#ICYMI

[walq-chan]

Yes, I'm a bit obsessed here, not sure if u had noticed 😅

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

[cryrovo]

WHAT I GOTTA SAY TO GET A PIECE OF THAT?!

art by: mossmaybe1 on twt

[eliotbaum]

My Love and My Joy are available as prints on our online shop, Tannenbaum Press until Nov 15th (‘24)! Two more days….!

[siriuslylantsov]

giggle fit

spencer reid x fem! reader blurb. fluff :) undressing because of sex but theres no sex. kissing! meh ending because i just wanted to get this done. 458 words.

spencer shuts the door behind him as he makes work of his tie and shirt buttons, shoes and jacket left behind in the hallway of your apartment.

while he does that, you make progress with your own stripping. the urgency of the moment makes both your actions hurried. you let your skirt fall and pull off your blouse, waiting.

you watch as he struggles with his pants, kicking them off. his lack of attention for his surroundings while he looks at you becomes very evident as he trips over his pants, toe getting caught in the front pocket. he stumbles forward, eyes wide, and you reach out to steady him. the sheer momentum that exhumes off him sends you both to the floor. you, falling hard on your ass, and him, on his knees.

you rub over the impacted area with a grimace, and then you meet his eyes. they're equally pained by the fall, squinting, face twisted funnily that you can't help but start laughing. he frowns in confusion but seeing the way you light up causes him to follow suit.

you lean forward and press your smiling lips to his, “slow down,” you murmur against them. he kisses you back with fervour and pulls you closer by the waist. your lips part as another giggle escapes you, he uses this opportunity to lick into your mouth but your lack of cooperation makes it a messy ordeal. 

your laughing persists and he gives up on kissing your lips, instead moving to the side of your face. you keel over on the carpet behind you. he looks at you incredulously, you can't be laughing right now.

he moves to straddle your waist, imploring you to stop squirming, careful not to crush you. he peels your hands away from your face and plants them under his on the ground. “stop it,” he whines. 

you only grow more delirious, “i cant-” you let out between a fit of giggles, the outburst causing your stomach to ache, you tense under him. 

he smiles at you, amused, shifting lower to your hips so that when he brings his head down, it’s level with yours. “your diaphragm,” he lets go of one on your pinned hands to press at the area under your ribs, “and your abdominal muscles are repeatedly contracting.” he presses a kiss to your lips, which you accept, “that's why it hurts.”

you're breathless as your laughter ceases. “huh, i always wondered why that was,” you use your free hand to rake through his hair. “thank god i have a loser boyfriend to tell me.”

“loser boyfriend really wants you right now, so how ‘bout you get up?”

“how ‘bout you get off me first? and don't trip this time.”

[readandwriteclub]

9:45

I will say, boycott McDonald's

(McDonald's collects facial recognition and voice print biometrics on everyone!! If you think it was the fry boy who called the tip line...)

CNN suggested that Luigi Mangione stage a boycott instead of what he did. a boycott of the health care industry. exercising my right to protest by fucking dying.

[dominicfikeme]

The Blue Spirit

Paring: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader catches The Blue Spirit when he is leaving to capture the Avatar.

Warnings: None! It’s all fluff :))

————————————————————————

There you sat on the cold metal stairs leaning against its railing, the breeze playing with your hair giving it the same buoyant wave as the sea on which the ship sailed. A sense of calm enveloped you, shielding you from the usual sense of worry that plagues your mind. Your tranquility however was short lived, stolen by the sound of footsteps, you peered through the railings at the shadowy figure. It moved with stealth, making its way to the edge of the ship. You walked towards the figure trying your best to not be noticed, as you got closer, the more familiar the figure seemed. The way they walked, moved, you knew it all too well. 

You cleared your throat intending to get his attention, the figure turned to face you drawing out his swords to his side, his face concealed by a blue mask. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, “Zuko” you said as you crossed arms, “you’re not going to fight me are you?”.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword, you took a step toward him, inspecting his disguise, you ran your fingers across the intricate designs on the surface of the mask he wore.

 “Where did you get this?”, you asked as you pushed the mask up revealing his face

“It was my mothers” Zuko replied, averting his eyes from yours

“Hmm I see... so, should I take the lack of eye contact as a sign of guilt?” you questioned

“Guilt?” Zuko said looking at you with confusion

“Yes Zuko, guilt. Guilt that you were probably sneaking away to do something reckless, the guilt that is very literally causing you to mask yourself.” you chided as you tapped on the mask and continued, “don’t feign stupidity Zuko, we both know you’re not fooling anyone”. 

He sighed, shoulders relaxing, “I need to get him y/n” he said

“The Avatar?”

“He is my only chance at redemption, and I can not… will not let Zhao take it away from me” he declared, “And I know what you think but I-”

“Okay”

“Okay?” he said taken aback

“Well firstly,” you said raising one finger, “nothing I say is going to stop you, I’d be preaching to deaf ears. Secondly,” you continued, now raising a second finger, “I have never taken a liking to Zhao so I couldn’t care less what happens to him!”

Zuko laughed as he placed his hands on your waist pulling you closer, you rested your hands on his neck taking in the rare sight of his smile. 

“Just… be safe okay?” you said as you kissed his cheek

He nodded as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You watched as he used a rope to scale down the side of the ship onto a small boat, you leaned against the railing, watching his figure slowly disappear into the horizon.  

————————————————————————

[flightrising]

🚨 HEY. Listen up! 🚨

The hoard of cycled gem marketplace items are cycling OUT at 06:00 server time on Monday, December 9, 2024.

Get your cycled gem marketplace items before they cycle out for another six months!

[thenaturalfriends]

Greg: It's gone from being a bit weird, cause I just called him 'Good Boy' one day--and afterwards he went, "Good Boy?!?"--and now we really only call each other Good Boy. And I do think we are good boys. Alex: Course we're good boys! Greg: I do think we are. Alex: We're good boys.

Bless @ninaolive for posting this video from the S17 New York Q&A.

[fushitoru]

@fh4irys @crimsonmarabou @colortheoryrocks @pocketdroll @pocketdroll

@crabby-libra @slowlyshycomputer @m00nyt0astforever @markleeloveletter @nxxrxm

@billiondollarworth @irenesolos @wandabillywrites @ranismybf @misslovingpearl

@angel1of-death @peonysfordayz @babyyyjk @spindyl @bearchermer

@2forthesh0w @yoghurtbrand @itzmeme @lazyperfectioniste @sharkubi

@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @emlovesya @m0nsterzl0ve @doodlebug0105 @tbhhonorrr

@citizenofthec0sm0s @iheartpinky @dindjarins1ut @satoryaa @eolivy

@mmeerraa @wwwwwwwrrrrr @backinmyphase @shasaaa15 @makingtimemine

@iamthehybrid @sayastyx @designerpvssy @forevamsoo @obsessedalpaca

@unlikelywolfenemy @satowooo @neddas-hive @sadmonke @breadsbasket

chapter 8: the lake a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, making out, touching bare skin pre-marriage (the scandal), eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

a/n additional warning that this chapter is not beta read. this may seem like a short chapter but it has TEAAAA (if you didnt already guess from the summary). i pushed myself to finish this for the peeps who finished finals this week so it may be a bit messy. anywho see u down below <3

prev. the rebound | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest gentle reader,

This Author finds herself most intrigued by the unfolding events of the Inos' recent ball. It appears that Her Majesty has not yet abandoned her faith in the diamond she so carefully selected. Will her confidence prove to be misplaced? Only time shall reveal the truth. Yet one cannot deny that fortune seems to shine—dare this Author say, sparkle—upon Miss Itadori of late.

Last evening, she graced the ballroom with a strikingly altered appearance, one that left tongues wagging and gazes lingering. Most notable, however, was the company she kept. Duke Nanami himself was seen at her side, engaged in conversation that appeared both earnest and uncommonly animated. A rare sight indeed, for His Grace has shown little interest in the charms of other young ladies this season. Could this be the beginning of something extraordinary? This Author will watch closely.

And who could forget the Gojo house party, where the drama rivaled even the most lurid novels of the circulating library? Whispers abound of a certain Lord Naoya Zen’in, who, it seems, departed the event looking rather... bruised, both in pride and in visage. What transpired to cause such a spectacle? Alas, my sources have yet to provide all the particulars, but one can only assume that tempers flared—and perhaps fists followed.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Satoru wipes his knuckles on a spare handkerchief, marring it with streaks of crimson. After the blood coating his hand is cleaned off, it reveals light bruises. 

He always abhorred such physical entanglements. Let other men soil their reputations in drunken brawls or duels over imagined slights; Satoru prided himself on wit and charm, a tongue sharp enough to parry any insult.

However, for the first time, it seemed that the blasé duke-to-be Lord Satoru Gojo, ever so apathetic to others and their struggles, was not so blasé anymore. What affected him was contradictory; after all, he had made a big decision to avoid being affected by the woman herself. So why was he so…inconsistent? Perhaps it is this unpredictability, capriciousness the reason he has to distance himself from any others who may be in harm’s way—the way forged by Satoru himself. There is no space for inconstancy, irresponsibility, whimsicality, or contradiction in his life, especially not with his duties and the weight held over his shoulders. 

But he allows himself this, one last time. Your expression lingered in his mind—the way your lips parted in shock, the stiff set of your shoulders as you brushed past Naoya’s lecherous words without deigning to respond. He had seen the moment your composure faltered, a crack in the armor you wore so effortlessly. The crack only he was supposed to cause.

It was intolerable.

As soon as pale pink ribbons trail out of the room, he moves toward Naoya, completely ignoring the lady who was talking to him and her trailing protests. When he’s right in front of the other man, he gives him a curt nod. “Naoya.”

The other man’s eyes—which were before no doubt prowling on other unsuspecting ladies—flit to him in surprise. “Lord Gojo, what a pleasant surprise. I daresay—”

“Meet me in the courtyard,” Satoru interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Naoya’s brows shot up, but he recovered quickly, a sly grin curling his lips. “A private word? How intriguing. Lead the way, my lord.”

Satoru didn’t wait to see if he followed. His stride was steady, his purpose unwavering.

The cool air of the courtyard carried the faint strains of music from the ballroom, the chatter of guests dimmed by the stone walls. Satoru turned to face Naoya, his stance deceptively relaxed, one hand resting on the pommel of his cane.

“Now, my lord,” Naoya drawled, his smirk widening. “To what do I owe this rather dramatic summons?”

The reply came not in words but in the swift arc of Satoru’s fist, connecting solidly with Naoya’s jaw. The sharp crack of the blow shattered the stillness, and Naoya stumbled, clutching his face as shock registered in his eyes.

“What in blazes—”

“Hold your tongue,” Satoru bit out, seizing Naoya by the lapels of his coat and slamming him back against the cold, unyielding wall. His tone was calm, his voice low, but it carried a menace that silenced all protests. “You will not speak of her in that way again. Do you understand me?”

Naoya grimaced, his defiant eyes narrowing despite the pain. “Ah,” he sneered, a breathless rasp laced with derision, “this is about Miss Itadori, isn’t it? Playing the chivalrous hero, are we, Lord Gojo? Or is it your own wounded ego driving this display?”

The next punch silenced him mid-taunt, burying deep in his abdomen. Naoya doubled over with a strangled gasp, his knees threatening to buckle, but Satoru held him upright, his grip vice-like.

“Speak her name again,” Satoru hissed, leaning close, his voice cold enough to chill even the night air, “and I swear you’ll find yourself in far worse condition.”

The tension between them crackled like a storm. For a fleeting moment, Naoya’s lips twitched into the ghost of a sneer, but his words died unspoken, arrogance muted by the sheer force of Satoru’s fury. Satisfied, Satoru released him with a sharp shove, watching dispassionately as Naoya crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath.

“You are mad,” Naoya spat, wiping at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll ruin yourself over this.”

“Perhaps,” Satoru replied evenly, smoothing the cuffs of his sleeves as though nothing had happened. “But I’ve never much cared for your opinion, Naoya.”

He turned on his heel, his steps measured, his expression impassive.

The sting in his knuckles was a small price to pay. Unfortunately it seemed that for you, it was a price he would pay again and again.

He had told himself the decision was rational. Logical. Your match had to cease because it had begun to unravel him. You were a distraction, one he could not afford. His life was designed for control, every action measured, every move calculated. A match with you, he had realized, would be unlike any other. It would mean more. It would demand more.

And yet, how could he feel this jealousy? This fierce protectiveness? It was contradictory, maddening even. His resolve to avoid entanglements of the heart warred against the memory of your laughter echoing through his mind. It was absurd, but he could not dismiss the sharp ache in his chest whenever you looked at another man, especially one so undeserving as Naoya Zen’in.

He had known from the start that you were different. No coy smiles or simpering obedience. No easy conquest to stroke his ego. Your instant rejection of him during your first meeting had been a blow to his pride and a revelation he had been too stubborn to acknowledge then.

Satoru was not a man who chased after women. He had no need to. And yet…

But even as he walked away, Satoru couldn’t help but feel the cracks in his own carefully constructed armor widening. What, indeed, was he doing?

You startle in your sleep, sitting up abruptly on your bed in the dark.

The season has taken a turn for the good, so far. With Whistledown singing your praises and the Queen not yet deciding to behead you, you were on the path of securing great prospects, whether it be with Duke Nanami or someone else.

“But you’re missing something, aren’t you?”

The voice is a low murmur, brushing the shell of your ear like the ghost of a touch. Your heart leaps to your throat as you twist toward the sound, your eyes darting across the dimly illuminated room. The corners of the chamber remain steeped in shadow, the moonlight doing little to ease your apprehension.

“Who’s there?” you whisper, clutching the sheets tighter, your knuckles whitening around the fabric.

The silence stretches, thick and oppressive, before a figure emerges from the shadow near the mantle. He moves with a predator’s grace, his steps silent against the floorboards. Even before he fully steps into the moonlight, you know who it is.

Gojo.

“You look startled, my lady,” he says, his voice carrying an infuriatingly casual lilt, though his gaze fixes on you with unnerving precision.

“This is a dream,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your effort to remain calm. “You are not real.”

“And yet,” he replies. “here I am. Curious, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge. He’s closer now, standing at the foot of your bed, his pale hair catching the silvery light like a halo—an angel or a devil, you can’t decide. “What do you want, Lord Gojo?” you demand, your voice sharper than you feel.

His eyes sweep over you, lingering for a moment too long before meeting your gaze again. “To commend you, of course,” he says. “You’ve been doing well—dancing with dukes, charming the Queen. The season’s darling.”

His words cut, though you can’t say why. “Why does that matter to you?” you snap, sitting straighter, as though defiance could shield you from the heat simmering in his gaze.

“It doesn’t,” he replies smoothly, though the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk that betrays him.

“Then why are you here?”

His answer doesn’t come in words. Instead, he steps closer, his boots brushing the edge of your rug. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out, his gloved hand catching a strand of hair that’s fallen loose. He rolls it between his fingers, as though testing its silkiness, before letting it slip away. “Because I can’t seem to stay away,” he murmurs. His voice is low, meant only for you, and it sends a shiver through your body.

You scoff, though the sound catches in your throat. “You’re insufferable.”

His chuckle is soft, a deep rumble that seems to linger in the air. “And yet, you don’t look away.”

Your fists clench around the sheets, anger flaring in your chest—anger at him, at yourself, at the fact that he’s right. Before you can stop yourself, you throw the covers aside and rise to your feet. 

He doesn’t step back. Instead, he stands still, a study in casual defiance, though his gaze flickers with something you can’t name as you move closer. His eyes lazily drag up and down your frame, which you notice is only covered in a flimsy, almost translucent nightgown.

“If this is a dream,” you say, your voice trembling with fury and something unspoken, “then it doesn’t matter what I do, does it?”

His smirk falters, replaced by a glimmer of uncertainty that only fans the reckless fire inside you. “Perhaps not,” he murmurs, though the tension in his voice betrays him.

Your hands shake as you reach out, your fingers curling into the lapels of his coat. His eyes follow the movement, then stare back at you, into your eyes. For a brief moment, his breath hitches, and his hands twitch at his sides, as though warring with the instinct to touch you. But the flicker of surprise in his eyes tells you he didn’t expect this.

With a sharp tug, you pull him closer, your lips meeting his in a collision of unspoken longing, yearning, and pining. The kiss is unsteady at first, as if both of you are testing the waters, but it quickly deepens, becoming a clash of fire and desperation. His hands find your waist, his grip firm but not demanding, as if he’s holding on to something precious.

You press closer, letting the reckless freedom the dream gave you sweep you away. His lips part against yours, and the kiss turns slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment, savoring you, devouring you. But then, his hands shift, moving from your waist with a slow, tantalizing seductiveness. They skim over your hips, his touch deliberate, before trailing down to the curve of your thighs. His fingers brush over the soft fabric of your nightgown, the heat of his touch searing through the barrier like it isn’t there.

Your breath hitches as he lingers, his thumb tracing a path along the sensitive skin just above your knee. The sensation is electric, and yet it feels like forbidden ground—an intimacy you’ve never dared to imagine, even in your most audacious thoughts.

It’s then that the dream begins to unravel.

His form flickers, as though caught in the haze of a mirage, the sharp lines of his figure softening. The room darkens, the corners of your vision blurring as though the world is folding in on itself.

“No,” you whisper, the word barely audible over the sound of your own pounding heart.

He looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with an intensity that feels as real as your racing pulse. And then he’s gone, the dream dissolving into nothingness, leaving you gasping and clutching the sheets. When you wake, the echo of his touch lingers, the heat of his hands on your thighs an ache you can’t explain. You press trembling fingers to your lips, your breath catching as though the kiss was still happening.

But no matter how much you try, you can’t shake the memory of his hands, of the way he’d touched you like he belonged there. Like he had always belonged there.

You choose to blame the irregular slumber you have gotten this past fortnight as the reason why you are being so discourteous. For Duke Nanami’s words drift your mind, never truly being registered, as you both had strolled, promenading hand in hand. 

It is not merely His Grace who suffers from your inattentiveness. Any suitor who dares to approach is met with the same distracted gaze, your thoughts elsewhere. Whether it is the lingering remnants of that unbidden dream—one you’ve tried and failed to forget—or the fleeting moments where you think you spot Lord Gojo across the green only to realize it is a figment of your imagination, your mind is a battlefield.

A few awkward conversations—where you are not truly present—pass and go, until you sit by the lakeside of Surrey Park, deciding to take a break from the conversations that awaited you if you were to stroll towards your family’s pavilion.

But not now, for here, nature offers solace. The gentle ripple of water, the soft rustling of leaves, the occasional bird song—all soothe the cacophony in your head.

You settle onto a bench, your gown fanning around you, and allow yourself to breathe. But even as you close your eyes and tilt your head toward the sun, the peace does not come. Your thoughts betray you, circling back to him—his infuriating smirk, his piercing gaze, the way his voice seemed to linger in the air long after he was gone. The dream was completely unbidden, unexpected. You had only started to move on and start this season anew. It seemed as your consciousness was working against you in an effort to bring fictional desires to life. 

You knew clearly that Gojo was infuriating, and had colored your name. So why must your mind actively go against what was clearly a certitude?

Before you could ponder on your thoughts for much longer, you heard her.

“You do seem terribly at ease for someone of your…reputation.”

The voice startles you, cutting through your reverie like a blade. Your eyes snap open, and there stands Lady Mei Mei, her expression a mask of genteel venom. You sigh inwardly, and bring on your best smile, albeit artificial. “Lady Mei Mei,” you greet, striving for composure. “To what do I owe this very unexpected…interruption?”

“Interruption?” she echoes, feigning offense. “How quaint. I merely wished to congratulate you on your newfound popularity. Though, I must say, the…boldness of your wardrobe choices does make one wonder.” Her gaze drags over your form, disdain dripping from every word. “Are you seeking a husband, my dear, or something far less respectable?”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your skirt, but you maintain your poise. “Boldness, Lady Mei Mei, is often mistaken for confidence by those unfamiliar with either.”

Her lips twitch, but the venom remains. “Confidence, or desperation? It is difficult to tell with one so eager to flaunt herself before the ton. Tell me, do you find it tiring? Whoring yourself out for attention?”

The word lands like a slap, sharp and stinging, and you feel the surge of heat rise to your cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, you rise to your feet, smoothing the folds of your gown as you stand. Your chin tilts upward, a shield of composure against the venom Mei Mei has hurled your way. You desperately fight the urge to slap her into nonsense, but there are eyes, no matter how hidden from public view you may think yourself to be.

“I find it far less tiring than wielding envy as one’s primary weapon,” you reply, your voice cool yet cutting, every syllable sharpened to a blade. “But then, I would not expect you to understand.”

Mei Mei’s lips twist into something that might have been a smile, had it not been dripping with malice. Her eyes narrow, the sunlight catching the cold glint of her stare. She shifts closer, the deliberate grace of her steps at odds with the tension crackling in the air. For a moment, you think she might lash out—a slap, a shove, something physical to match her words.

But before the storm can break, a voice, smooth and deceptively warm, cuts through the charged silence.

“Lady Mei Mei.”

Your breath hitches, and you whip your head around to see him. Lord Gojo strides toward you both, his movements as fluid and effortless as a ripple across the lake’s surface.

For a moment, your mind stutters, unable to reconcile the sight before you. He’s here. Not lingering at the edges of the crowd, not offering a polite nod of acknowledgment before disappearing into the fringes of Surrey Park. No, he’s walking toward you with purpose, the light catching in his silver hair, his focus unerringly fixed on the scene unfolding before him.

The man who had, for days, seemed to find every excuse to avoid you (and you him), whose gaze had flicked past you as though you were nothing more than a fixture of the lawn—he was now approaching with a startling intensity, his presence impossible to ignore.

His expression is inscrutable, but the faint furrow of his brow betrays something darker beneath the veneer of his charm. The tension in his jaw, the faint set of his shoulders—it all speaks of an intent that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Lord Gojo,” you whisper under your breath, your voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears. What is he doing here? And why, when he looks at you, does it feel as though the air has shifted?

Lady Mei Mei recovers first, her voice cutting through your disarray like a blade. “Lord Gojo,” she purrs, her saccharine tone a stark contrast to the venom she had wielded moments earlier. “What a surprise to see you here.”

But you can’t take your eyes off him. You’re too stunned, too disoriented by his sudden appearance and the sheer force of his presence. Why must he appear now? 

His gaze flicks briefly to Mei Mei, his lips curving into a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before his attention returns to you. And when it does, it’s as though the world narrows to the space between you.

“Not half as surprising as overhearing this delightful conversation,” he says, his tone light, almost lazy, but there’s an edge to it—a sharpness that wasn’t there before. His eyes meet yours again, and this time, the intensity in them is impossible to ignore. Your breath holds itself in, your confusion and shock colliding with something you can’t quite name. There’s no teasing quip, no playful smirk to soften his words. Just the weight of his gaze, pressing down on you as though he’s searching for something you don’t understand. Then, he returns it to Mei Mei. “I was unaware you had taken to dispensing moral judgments, my lady. Though I suppose one must occupy their time somehow.”

The barb lands, and Mei Mei’s smile falters. Her spine stiffens, her fingers twitching at her side, but Gojo doesn’t stop. He steps closer, his boots crunching against the gravel, and the shift in his demeanor is subtle but unmistakable.

“I would suggest, for the sake of civility,” he says, his voice softening to something far more dangerous, “that you refrain from such remarks in the future.”

The crowd, drawn by the commotion, murmurs from a distance. You feel their gazes prickle against your skin, their curiosity thickening the already-tense air. Mei Mei’s cheeks flush a pale pink, and her hands clench at her sides, the effort to maintain her composure palpable.

“You dare—” she begins, but Gojo cuts her off, his voice a degree colder now.

“I dare a great many things, my lady. Do not test the limits of my patience.”

The words hang heavy in the air, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. Mei Mei’s breath quickens, and though her lips curl into a sneer, the fire in her eyes dims. After a moment, she dips her head again, but this time it’s no longer polite. It’s forced, a concession.

“Very well, my lord,” she says, her voice tight. “I can see when my presence is no longer welcome.”

Lady Mei Mei walked past you to exit the scene, clearly disgraced after Lord Gojo had surprisingly butted in to your defense. Her turn was sharp, and her skirts flared. Then, she did something you hadn’t expected. After all, you were nonplussed from Gojo’s appearance in of itself that you did not have much awareness of your physical environment. Foremost of all, you were furious. How dare he waltz into the scene, aiming at playing hero and gentleman after all he has done to you this season? The anger consumed you, leaving you ignorant to Lady Mei Mei's schemes.

The movement came quickly—a flick of her hand, subtle yet purposeful, as though she intended to brush away an inconvenience. Only, her target was not the hem of her gown or an errant lock of hair. It was you. That is, that was the intention of the action. However, fortuitously enough for you, Lord Gojo had noticed it.

With a sharp tug, his hand closed around your wrist, pulling you aside just as Lady Mei Mei's push landed—on him.

The splash was enormous.

For a moment, the world stood still, the lake swallowing the ripples as though it too were stunned by what had just transpired. Around you, gasps echoed, punctuated by the soft clink of champagne glasses dropped in surprise. All eyes turned toward the water, toward the spot where Gojo had disappeared.

Your pulse pounded erratically, caught between the shock of it all and the mortifying realization that everyone was watching. Watching and waiting.

And then, like something out of a scandalous painting that no young lady of good breeding ought to admit having seen, Gojo emerged.

The water clung to him as though reluctant to let go, his white shirt turned sheer and pasted to his torso, revealing every lean muscle and curve beneath. Droplets trailed from the tips of his silver hair, tracing maddening paths down the sharp edges of his jaw before disappearing beneath the soaked fabric. His black necktie clung damply to his throat, accentuating the hollows there, and when his eyes met yours—gleaming with mischief and something darker—your breath hitched.

It was obscene. 

The crowd seemed to agree, though their response was far less scandalized than you might have expected. The ladies weren’t laughing; no, their gazes were riveted, their fans fluttering in a feeble attempt to hide their obvious fascination. Their admiration was palpable, their whispers laden with awe.

Flustered, you took a few steps back to give him space and to not drench yourself (a/n lmaooo you’re drenched already bestie), but you mentally noted to yourself to make his pectorals bigger in your dreams (not that you would continue to have such salacious dreams, of course. It was the mind creating desires you never had, obviously.) It was apparent that you were still very distracted, for you did not notice the two pairs of footsteps rushing towards your direction, towards Gojo.

“What happened?” Duke Nanami looked at Gojo’s very…wet state, concerned and alarmed. “What did you get yourself into this time, Satoru?” Lord Geto 

Gojo, who was still wiping water from his hair and grinning like a fool, gave him an exaggerated look of innocence. He ran a hand through his damp, platinum hair, the gesture almost too casual for someone in his drenched state. As he did so, the hem of his shirt inched upward, revealing a tantalizing sliver of bare skin, a sliver that led downward to a trail of white hair disappearing beneath his waistband—

“Kento,” Gojo laughed heartily, as if there were nothing amiss. “You worry too much! A little water never hurt anyone.”

Lord Geto, on the other hand, had been trailing behind Nanami. At the sight of Gojo, he started laughing, snickering mischievously at the sight.  He had a knowing look on his face, as if he were fully aware of the scene he was witnessing—Gojo’s accidental plunge into the lake being just another moment of unintentional chaos.

“Oh, Satoru, you're impossible.” Geto stepped closer, shaking his head in mock disbelief, but his smile was far too amused to be truly accusatory or reproachful. "Did you get knocked into the lake by your own... charm?" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he glanced at the crowd of ladies now eyeing Gojo as though he were some mythical creature freshly emerged from the depths.

Nanami sighed, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms in that ever-earnest manner that seemed to constantly play contrast to Gojo’s reckless energy. “This is exactly why you need a keeper at all times, Satoru.”

Gojo, still basking in the odd mix of amusement and the lingering attention of the nearby ladies, merely shrugged. “I’m fine, Kento. Just a little... refreshment is all.”

“By the looks of it,” Geto continued with a raised brow, “I’m more concerned about you than you are of yourself.” He gestured with a lazy wave, motioning toward the way the water had soaked through Gojo’s shirt, revealing a lot more than was likely intended. “And, I mean, look at that—those ladies aren’t gazing at you for your intellect.” (a/n LMAO ate him up)

Before Gojo could lob a retort, Nanami interjected with his trademark no-nonsense tone. “Enough of this,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re soaked to the bone. Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill—or create an even bigger scene.”

Gojo lingered for a moment, casting a leisurely glance around the gathering. The ladies, previously locked in their own conversations, now shamelessly ogled him, their fans fluttering uselessly against the rising heat in their cheeks. Their gazes trailed after him as he started to walk away, and you swore you caught more than one wistful sigh among the crowd.

And yet, even as he moved farther from the lake and closer to the house, his steps deliberate and unhurried, he suddenly stopped. Slowly, his head turned, and his piercing blue gaze found yours with unnerving accuracy, as if he’d felt your bewildered stare all along.

His smile appeared—lazy, confident, and maddeningly seductive. The corner of his mouth tilted up just enough to make your stomach flip, and his eyes... Oh, his eyes. They gleamed like a predator’s, sharp and teasing, and yet impossibly inviting.

The world seemed to tilt, the air around you thickening. Your chest tightened with the realization: that smile wasn’t for the crowd, nor for the fawning ladies he left in his wake.

It was for you.

Your cheeks burned, your thoughts a chaotic mess as he turned back and sauntered away, water still dripping from his hair and shirt. The ladies continued to gawk openly, but you remained rooted to the spot, your heart pounding erratically.

Oh, that bastard.

prev. the rebound | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n so....erm this was definitely a CHAPTER.....BUT AH POOKIES ITS HERE i got so excited bc i got the idea to write his lake fall so i finished this chapter. it's a bit messy, like i said, but i hope you liked it <333

I WANT TO SUCK GOJOS DICK BADLYYY i think this chapter was posted so fast after the last bc im on my period and im horny so hence the lake scene was born like i rawdogged this shit in five hours

ANYWYAS THERES PUSH AND PULL YEARNING PINING...so much contradiction hmmmmmm

miss itadori malfunctioning when gojo got out of the water (like a complete SLUT)

anyways i hope some of you WHORESS that simped for bridgerton!geto will be coming anew to simp for our main MAN. this debauchery i approve of. i fear all anons, especially zaynesbathrobe anon and anon in my walls, will be having a field day with this one

thank you for readinggg! please comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3 (esp reblog, a lot of people have been binging bridgerton!gojo recently and spam liking. tumblr daddy might lock me up and shadowban me/mark my account, so reblogs would be appreciated <3)

TAGLIST:

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover

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@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

[exosalt]

aot headcanons - skincare edition

Armin

Slightly on the dry side but v sensitive

Has a pretty simple routine - cleanser, toner, moisturiser, aftershave etc

His products are high end and high quality

Knows exactly what to use for specific skin issues

Religiously uses SPF

Eren

Combination skin but slightly on the oilier side

Doesn’t have a skincare routine

Uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash on his face when he’s in the shower

Steals Armin’s and Mikasa’s skincare products

Uses them wrong

Refuses to use SPF in winter

Mikasa

Normal balanced skin

Literally only needs cleanser and SPF and that’s IT

Likes trying out new face masks and sheet masks

Physically has to hold Eren down and rub SPF on his face

Levi

Used to have balanced skin like Mikasa but it dried out because he kept using hand sanitizer on his face

Cleanses twice a day but with antibacterial soap

Skin stills looks good because ✨Ackergenes✨

Jean

Combination and slightly acne-prone

Needs encouragement to use proper skincare

Not too fussed about following a proper routine, always forgets in the evening

Thinks growing a beard will cover the sins

Sasha

Has an oily T-zone

Tiktok is her main source of skincare info

Tried homemade Pinterest face masks but ended up eating it

Has a post on her Instagram of herself and Connie with face masks on and cucumbers over their eyes

Connie

Combination skin but slightly acne prone

Doesn’t really use anything special unless it’s recommended to him

“What’s your skincare routine?” “Water” - thinks that’s a flex

Loves trying new face masks with Sasha

Historia

Dry, sensitive skin but no one can ever tell because she’s perfected her skincare

Has a full 12 step routine

Loves giving skincare recommendations

Convinces Ymir to do spa nights with her

Reiner

Tears

LMAO jk jk his skincare is pretty simple

Has mostly normal skin but stress causes him to break out

Still trying to find products which work for him

Bertholdt

Oily + sensitive skin

Constantly forgets to use SPF

Doesn’t really matter because he sweats off all the product anyway

Annie

Combination skin

Constant dark circles

Uses super simple drugstore products

Only really focused on keeping her skin clean

Started using SPF because Armin suggested it

Marco

Combination skin but has an oily forehead

Doesn’t have a proper routine

Only buys products that are half off 🙃

Low-key scared he’ll exfoliate a freckle off

(The freckles demand love)

Ymir

Really only uses water and it works out fine

Doesn’t understand the skincare hype

Will still try out whatever Historia recommends for her

Erwin

this set

Hange

Doesn’t have a skincare routine

Likes putting weird things on their face just to see what effect they’ll have

Like they’ll rub a whole lemon on their face just to see what it does

Enjoys popping pimples

Miche

Soap goes up his nose every single day and impairs his sense of smell for like an hour afterwards

Cries when this happens

Prefers to keep it simple

Floch

Doesn’t wash his face

Crusty ass bitch

s/o to @sehun-cakes for helping me with this 😂

[iamamythologicalcreature]

From Snow on Ice, written by @leithillustration for @carryon-reverse-bang.

[bookish-bogwitch]

Thanks for the tags @emeryhall @rimeswithpurple @blackberrysummerblog and @roomwithanopenfire!

I’m in Omaha and made this today. It’s six sentences, right?

Who knew Carry On had so many beard rubs? (Spadey. Spadey knew.)

Tagging @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @raenestee. Miss you!

[redlettermediathings]

ICYMI this channel uploads Wheel of the Worst tapes in full so you can torture yourself right in the comfort of your own home.

[neonscandal]

Manga with Me: Sad SatoSugu Edition (Because That's Literally the Only Flavor There Is)

So I mentioned wanting to list out all the canonically most heartrending things I could think of as it pertains to Satosugu during an Anon Ask sometime ago and since the Christmas holiday is nigh upon us... what better time (because I started this a while ago)? If you would like to wallow in the heartbreak, you can always peruse this tag because this is truly something that rots my brain on the reg. So let's get into it, let's recount all the details that bounce around my head like an old school DVD logo in case anyone else wanted to be miserable too.

Part 1 | Part 2

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: Includes information up to chapter 236. This will be an exhaustive list to include details that haven't been animated. If you want to stay spoiler free, stop reading when you see the ⚠️ 

A/N: This basically just turned into an overly indulgent retelling of everything that happened because all of it is sad? Read at your own risk.

Let's start with a little bit of autobiography so we're all on the same page.

Gojo Satoru, heir to not only one of the Big Three sorcerer families but inheritor of their two familial cursed techniques. The occurrence of which hadn't been recorded for a century. His birth effectively tilted the scales and, subsequently, is responsible for the stronger breed of curses that sprung up to create balance in the world (in the same way Sukuna's finger woke other curses). We don't know much about his family except that he's been the target of unsuccessful assassination attempts since he was a kid. Subsequently, he's got an untempered ego that's largely unchecked and an unexplored power ceiling.

Why we love him: Real ones recognized a deeply traumatized person who hides it with a smile. ✨ Little did we know, the missing piece to that origin is what lurks in the shadows.

Geto Suguru, strong in his own right and implicitly guided by the belief that the weak should be protected. Leans into this enlightened ideal by also donning iconography that likens him to Buddha well before he considered being a cult leader. In my opinion (since I said this would be canonical, this needs to be called out as a headcanon), I think this was done to kind of cover the spread of his own insecurity coming into Jujutsu High as a society outsider. Especially when you consider Gojo's in his class.

Why we love him: While they appear to not get along, they really look to one another for balance. Ideologically and morally, Gojo will consider his perspective as he's the first person to really call Gojo on his flippancy and yoke him up. We love to see it.

CHRONOLOGICAL and rapid fire

They are two of only three special grade sorcerers at the time, the other being Yuki Tsukumo. It promotes this identity tied to their strength which Gojo is frequently sizing others up (sorry, Utahime) but also undoubtedly inspires a level of comfort Gojo probably hadn't known previously, to know that he had someone he could rely on.

In this, we see that Geto tuts at Gojo, keeping him in line from a social and moral perspective. He also weighs keeping the peace of citizens' minds believing that society should protect the weak and keep the strong in check. He rationalizes that jujutsu exists to protect non-sorcerers as if its their righteous responsibility. Sidebar: I love that the anime shows this convo taking place in a gym to visually use their shots missing vs going in as another way to show how they're at odds.

Subsequently, tasked with increasingly dangerous missions even though they are just kids because there's a shortage of strong sorcerers. There's a shortage of sorcerers at all. Undoubtedly, creates a sense of superiority in both and, likely, a greater sense of responsibility in Geto. As though the stronger he gets, the stakes continue to get higher as well.

Assigned a mission which effectively could impact the fate of the world wherein they have to protect Riko Omanai, another child and the Star Plasma Vessel, who is selected to merge with Tengen. Unbeknownst to us at the time but, even as students, they realized how shitty that was and had agreed unanimously to allow whatever Riko wanted to happen, whether she chose life or merge. Gojo propositioned it first and Geto's half-assed warning was simply that they might have to fight Tengen. Their overconfidence here kills me? But, essentially, protecting the weak and keeping the strong in check also meant enforcing what was right regardless of the mission and, more over, they could likely contextualize how unfair it was that they were child soldiers, as well.

Even with their difference in opinion or ideology, Gojo is reassured by the fact that, regardless of the demands of the mission, "we're the strongest". Which is huge when you consider that, for the longest time, he was always wary of others, likely kept people at arms' length, always had to protect others, etc.

I can only imagine the number of silly goofy selfies these idiots exchanged while on missions together or apart. Again, it just undercuts how, in spite of everything else, they were just goofballs.

This, I think, is important. Geto was the first person to rationalize Riko's desires to still go to school and be amongst her friends to Gojo. Geto had a sense of protecting the youthful life she knew from the start. Letting her enjoy herself was a part of the mission Tengen specified but Geto seemed moved by it without influence. Even if Gojo initially mentioned "calling it off" if the Star Plasma Vessel didn't want to move forward, this indicates the importance of, not just living (which Gojo will defend because he can), but living well which Geto is in support of.

Geto reassures Kuroi that she is Riko's family and, we can extrapolate, that he probably has his own bonds that are not blood but are still beloved like family. Even then.

Something I didn't take into consideration before but... it's Geto's fault/carelessness that gets Kuroi kidnapped. This likely causes a snowball effect of guilt as everything else transpires and ultimately leads him to his breaking point.

The fact that, where Gojo was once really intolerant of frivolity during the Star Plasma Vessel mission, he decided to show compassion by allowing for sightseeing and an extended stay in Okinawa, likely after taking Geto's previous rationale under advisement. Life is more than just surviving, afterall.

Usually when someone is strong, people lack the ability to comprehend or acknowledge their possible vulnerability. But Geto unabashedly expresses concern for Gojo potentially wearing himself out at the expense of extending their stay. It's small but its something expressed amongst equals and is shown to be such as Gojo says, "You're here too." TBH this altered my brain chemistry. Probably altered Geto's brain chemistry too. Can you imagine that reciprocation of trust and safety?? Ego boost.

What's especially funny about the exchange is highlighted by Geto's typical characterization as the fox eyed character or "kitsune no me" (even if its inconsistent). It can imply wisdom or someone who is mischievous. Given his other style choices, I assume its more for the wise aesthetic. But when he checks up on Gojo he gives the classic one-eye-open visual cue of being focused but with an air of confidence in response. Like, just puff out your chest and tell him you love him, already.

Literally, the soft way Geto watches Gojo be an immature little shit. For all the banter at the beginning of their origin story, this panel and, honestly, Okinawa really demonstrated how Gojo was endeared to Geto which hits a climax when they get back to Jujutsu High.

We only see Geto lose his cool when harm comes to Gojo. Toji getting the drop on Gojo was a shock to everyone but Geto sprung into action.

The fact that the first time Geto gives into his confidence and echoes Gojo's belief that "we're the strongest,", believing that, between the two of them, they could protect Riko's future... is precisely when Toji guns her down?? BRO. Irrevocably shattered his whole world view in a moment.

We only see Geto lose his cool when he believes harm has come to Gojo.

The fatal flaw in the Star Plasma Vessel mission was truly their combined hubris from being strong individually and being doubly reassured by their confidence in one another. Combine that with their loftiness of being sorcerers and it exposed them to a predator who doesn't need cursed energy to see footprints. The simplicity of it is aggravating. Toji's whole plan focused on a false sense of security but they were effectively already surrounded by an insulated false sense of security because of their power and standing in jujutsu society.

Moreover, the fact that Toji made such a big to do about how to defeat the Six Eyes but voiced the fact that Geto was negligible so long as he wasn't a shikigami user. Even if they were both strong, it still presents this idea that Gojo was stronger, he was the bigger threat.

Mind you, they were both bested by the same person BUT THE FACT THAT THEY BOTH LATER ESPOUSE SOME ELEMENT OF TOJI'S ESSENCE?? Geto takes on his vernacular (re: monkeys and essentially equates jujutsu as an evolution) and Gojo takes on the fit (which is crazy). More specifically, the fact that down the line, Gojo takes Toji's "Blessing" and Geto inherits his curse[d worm]. Ya know, maybe I was wrong about JJK antagonists because Toji really is the fork in the socket for a lot of what ends up happening.

This, is quite honestly, one of the most disrespectful coincidences of the whole ordeal because, while Geto shares physical characteristics with the Buddha and generally has a more humble and righteous understanding of the world, when Gojo experiences his power up at the beginning of his second fight with Toji, he experiences what we can assume is enlightenment as he boasts "Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the Honored One,". In many ways, this is just another thing scratching at the foundation of who they are.

Geto and Gojo are constantly set at odds, ideologically is the least of their differences as they learn to take one another's perspectives under consideration. The divide comes from Geto, born of non-sorcerers, who has a cursed technique that forces him to ingest curses which he equates to swallowing a cloth that had been used to wipe up vomit. How can one be clean and pure when forced to regularly imbibe something so disgusting? It makes sense as to how he solemnly would feel this sacrifice to be noble and necessary in practice with the tradeoff of being able to help the weak. Gojo, born into a sorcerer family, has cursed techniques that not only prevent the need to even touch a curse but also allows time and space to think through whatever comes his way as a Six Eyes user. An argument could be made for nurture vs nature respectively but, ultimately, I think the chasm between hard work vs natural talent is what breeds bitter resentment down the line which is further embodied in this moment. Where Geto tries to do right and walk the straight and narrow as best he could, it is still Gojo who is blessed with the enlightenment that should come with such discipline. What I also find interesting about this is the fact that, as someone who chooses to dress and carry themselves as Geto does, his undoing is ultimately tied to other famous Buddhist quotes that speak of finding sanctuary only within oneself and how attachment is the root of all suffering. It feels like in looking to Gojo, relying on Gojo, being attached to Gojo.. it filled a hole that was present within Geto and wasn't sated by his discipline or moral compass.

The above is also shown in how Gojo could immediately find where Toji was with all the hideouts where Geto had to work harder to still show up late. Everything is just so easy with the Six Eyes or I suppose that's how Geto started to feel.

The fact that, knowing they were equals before his power up, Gojo lied about Shoko healing him when Geto asked. Gojo, at the unset, haughtily believed that the strong shouldn't make excuses for their strength, and yet, hid a facet of his strength from Geto, the person who understood the burden of power best.

Gojo accepted blame for messing up during the Star Plasma Vessel when, empirically, Geto lost Kuroi first and failed as the second line of defense against Toji. I wonder how Geto felt hearing that admission when his own guilt was probably swelling within him.

After everything, Gojo still turns to Geto to determine what's right, questioning whether there needs to be a reason to kill the Time Vessel Association followers as they celebrate Riko's death.

Riko's death and their subsequent failure saw Gojo spending the year to optimize his power and prevent being felled by any vulnerability going forward. Geto was effectively sidelined and recognized the disparity between them as Satoru became "the strongest". Even so, with all of Gojo's bells and whistles, with Six Eyes at his disposal, he could not really see Geto's descent or chose not to properly address it because Gojo was never really one with typical emotional responses. It's something he goes into greater depth with Nanami in the light novels, acknowledging his lack of emotional intelligence.

As with his birth, which saw an increase in powerful curses born to keep the balance, his latent power up also had consequences like more frequent curse spawnings. This kept them busy and, as we discover apart. Since he could handle more missions on his own, by default, now Geto had to as well. They were the strongest together but they were together less and less. This effectively sent Geto further down a spiral and moral dilemma.

In spite of not being seen by Gojo during his time of strife, his first impulse when asked what kind of souvenir he'd like is to lean toward something Gojo would want. We don't know much about Geto's preferred tastes (anything is better than vomit rag) but this concession is so touching. Like, previously, we see where Gojo considers Geto time and time again when faced with a moral gray area but the consideration does go both ways.

When assessed to be a good person by Haibara, Geto challenges the idea which we can infer stems from his shift in worldview but, I also question if it is a manifestation of how he may feel about Gojo's power up, too.

The premise of Geto's defection can be broken down if we were to liken non-jujutsu sorcerers to harmless sheep. If curses and cursed users are wolves, then sorcerers are the guard dogs that protect the herd, lucky to have teeth to fight back. Geto believed it to be the duty of the sorcerers to protect the weak but hadn't confronted that even humans are capable of grotesque things, they are just as susceptible to evil. Riko's death illustrated this while also challenging his ability to protect. With the shortage of sorcerers, why must they sacrifice themselves for the good of those who are equally capable of being monsters, regardless of their perceived weakness? Haibara's death reiterated that there was no point for such sacrifice when such a fate can befall someone so good and wholesome. The nail in the coffin was, of course, finding the twins who'd been abused and imprisoned by humans because they could manipulate cursed energy.

We only see Gojo lose his cool when it comes to Geto. The reveal of his crimes, against the villagers and his own parents is outrageous given his rigid stance but that really doesn't have a place in jujutsu society. Those who cannot bend... break. As one of the only other special grade sorcerers, the fact that Gojo must subsequently become Geto's executioner is cruel and unusual punishment.

Again, we don't know much about Geto's tastes but we know that he'll ask for sweets for Gojo and carries a lighter for Shoko and that's really heartbreaking because I think we can infer he considers them family.

We only see Gojo lose his cool when it comes to Geto. Screaming about murder in front of a chicken joint is one thing, but when you find out that KFC is really popular on Christmas, there's an added layer of zest that really just twists the knife.

"Are you the strongest because you're Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you're the strongest." This was like... a critical hit when I read it. Up until this point, they were a unit who only had one another to rely on. Geto could recognize Gojo beyond Limitless, beyond Six Eyes as Satoru. There's safety and comfort in feeling understood by someone especially when you've lived a life so isolated. They were on a first name basis. While Geto had been undeniably stewing for months and suffering this turmoil, this moment is what finally pulls the rug from under Gojo. It's the moment that Geto does what everyone else does. Always burdened by his strength and now, the only person who sought to understand him beneath the weight of it all just conflated him with his power. It shakes Gojo's sense of self. Later, I think Geto thought this drove a wedge between them, likely as intended. But we know that, for Gojo, it didn't. Further, it was like an abdication of his place amongst the strongest. He acknowledged that Gojo was capable of forging the world as Geto wanted but never once asks him to join him. This also altered my brain chemistry? Because, as we've seen, Gojo would follow Geto's direction as his moral compass. Down the line, we also know that nothing changed Gojo's perspective on Geto. But Geto never bothered to ask.

Gojo couldn't follow orders and kill Geto. When Geto turns his back to him with a simple "if you want to kill me, kill me. There's meaning in that too," I wonder what went through Gojo's head. But when asked why he let him go, Yaga doesn't need words to understand. We also see that Geto's words, as intended, struck a chord within Gojo. This conversation is especially interesting because we see the flip side of what Geto couldn't consider. With all of Gojo's power, even he knows being strong isn't enough. His technique is famous for what it keeps away which is offset by the fact that Gojo is someone who craves connection.

The fact that cult leader Geto chooses to masquerade as a monk is not surprising, again, he'd been lightly cosplaying all throughout high school. But the fact that Akutami gave him a gojo-gesa? Akutami is a sadist.

The irony of Geto adopting Nanako and Mimiko and Gojo taking in Megumi and Tsumiki is not lost on me. They both tried to protect the youth of Riko and we can see how they understand that they are not allowed protection because they are strong... but then take on children? Geto seems to do so with different intentions, still protecting the weak. Gojo is basically forging his own battle bro and hoping that, by making all subsequent students strong they won't know the loneliness he suffers.

With JJK0, we see that ignoring the orders of elders is actually not at all uncommon for the strongest sorcerer. Whether that be carry out a 10 year death sentence against his bestie or anyone else deemed too powerful to control is really just dependent upon how Gojo feels about it. So he saves those the elders seek to destroy starting with Yuta by finding common ground in their loneliness. He presses forward in the face of the elders because they are "trying to take away the best years of your youth like that. There's no way I'm gonna let them do that. No matter who you are." It's something he knows all too well.

"I've always believed... love manifests the most distorted curses."

Here's what we know of last words and wills in JJK. We can infer that those who receive the last wishes of someone dying are cursed to see them through. We see that with Yuji and his grandfather as pointed out by Yaga. Even Nanami, before passing, worries his last wish would be a curse and a burden to Yuji so he chooses to send him with words of encouragement. Miguel makes a half-assed threat to curse Geto should he die in battle against Gojo. As we see in JJK 0... Yuta, the living, actually cursed the near departed Rika by begging her to stay and it is a manifestation of one of loves most twisted curses.

The fact that, even after 10 years... Geto will arbitrarily change someone's name so it rings a little closer to "Satoru" was one thing. BUT WHEN YOU HEAR THE WAY THE GETO VOICE ACTOR PURRS "SATORU" IN SEASON TWO!? I just- the affection is still there.

THE FACT THAT, EVEN AFTER 10 YEARS, GOJO STILL RECOGNIZES GETO'S RESIDUALS. Let a SatoSugu-anti explain this, please. Heterosexually. Because I've had friends who I've regularly seen over the course of 10 years and I still wouldn't be able to pick the homies out in a scent line up.

Even after 10 years... they still refer to one another on a first name basis. Culturally, it speaks to a comfortable intimacy, wouldn't you think?

As Toge and Panda sprung into action to defend Maki and Yuta, I wonder if it struck a chord of remembrance in Geto. For the times he'd lept to defend Gojo. is that what evoked his tears in that moment?

Their final exchange on paper is bad enough. But the fact that they set it to a musical score called "This Is Pure Love" in the movie?? Get out of my face. Outside of the JJK 0 parameter and nestled within the story around Shibuya, we see that Geto thought that their KFC fight ended their friendship. But we see, through Gojo's trust that Geto wouldn't kill his students and the reciprocation of not killing any of Geto's family members... Gojo's feelings never changed. They still know the inner machinations of one another's minds, even after all this time, but Geto couldn't see that.

Gojo effortlessly makes Geto smile once more with words we still don't know after Geto talks about not being truly happy from the bottom of his heart. Sir, if you don't malewife your way back to Gojo's side and put down the eugenics... SO HELP ME.

In Japan, Christmas Eve is considered one of if not thee most romantic holidays of the year. It's a lover's holiday where Gojo and Geto reunited and Gojo was finally forced to carry out his sentencing. Even so, having been killed with cursed energy, Gojo could not bring himself to destroy the body of his best friend. His one and only. This sentimentality is what leaves Geto's body susceptible to the likes of Kenjaku who works in the shadows and hyper aware of, not only Gojo's affection for Geto as his weakness, but also his ability to intimately recognize his residuals.

The fact that Geto is a recognized weakness for Gojo is known to others at all is what makes me constantly wonder whether Geto was doomed by the narrative.

1. You know people were talking in the TEN YEARS Geto just ran amok. After declaring war, he was so bold as to tell Gojo where he was going and Gojo still couldn't bring himself to follow. I'd be whispering, too. 2. In chapter 79, immediately following the Premature Death/Hidden Inventory arcs, Utahime is with the Tokyo first years following up on Gojo's belief that there's a mole. She specifies two or more people could be a leak and that "one has to be highly ranked, even higher than the principals" 3. Gojo and Geto were essentially the clean up crew for anything other sorcerers couldn't handle, they'd be known to the elders. I wonder if they knew how principled Geto was and exploited that. Lining him up for missions, just so, including the one that caused him to rebuke jujutsu society. Or if, his inflexibility would have always been what got him in the end. Hypothesis: I maintain that Kenjaku and/or someone who was tied to Kenjaku was involved in pulling those strings. Specifically with designs on Geto to get a bead on Gojo. Even if Geto wasn't doomed by the narrative, he was doomed all along by his connection to Gojo.

This isn't expressly a SatoSugu observation but.. the fact that Yuji is concerned about Gojo going into Shibuya alone? It is a SatoSugu observation because it precisely serves Gojo's mission of no one ever having to be alone again. The fact that Yuji still recognizes Gojo as someone who should have back up is so reminiscent of Geto in Okinawa but is also a poignant manifestation of the ideal world Gojo is trying to achieve. Even in this, we see Gojo with his goal in sight long after Geto's will has fizzled away. Imagine what they could have accomplished together.

Specific to the anime, the fact that they animated Gojo akin to the way the devils ran in Devilman Crybaby was both so unserious but also calls upon Akira Fudo's specific experience with power and humanity.

⚠️ Spoiler Warning for plot of Devilman Crybaby.

The imagery evokes the visual of another damned pairing of Akira Fudo and Ryo Asuka (above). Ryo is a white haired prodigy (sound familiar) who, after discovering the existence of devils, tricks Akira (good natured dark haired boy who he met when they were both children) into merging with a devil "to better defend humanity". Akira's purity allows him to maintain his humanity as he subsequently overpowers the devil seeking to possess him but retains his strength and physical prowess (... really familiar). The story devolves into hysteria as humans turn on the Devilman and anyone he's associated with due to fear of the very devils he protects them from. As this happens, the bitter side of humanity rears its ugly head and manifests in torture, paranoia, mob mentality justice and indiscriminate murder, enough that the demons take a break to watch as society crumbles and Akira questions whether humanity is even worth saving. The shit kicker of this whole situation is the fact that Ryo had been in cahoots with the devils all along. In fact, he'd been pulling the strings to eradicate humanity and let devils reign supreme for a very long time as the fallen angel, Satan. His true objective in converting Akira was to thank him for being by his side and because, unbeknownst to him, he was the only person he'd ever loved. He realized this after Akira's death (which he'd caused), of course.

Strongest sorcerer in the world and he is bested by the appearance of the man he shared his youth with. Couldn't have been overpowered by anyone on the board at the time and, with all the information available to him from Six Eyes, the only hope the villains had was to outsmart his heart. Do we realize how insane that is? Mans is a loverboy, for real.

In the anime, the fact that they animated a brief smile as he reconciled that it was actually Geto standing before him before reality hit was just for the sake of emotional damage. PLUS, they somehow made "my Six Eyes tell me you're Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise!" more dramatic by adding "my heart" and that just tells me there are certified SatoSugu shippers on staff.

Kenjaku has been bodyhopping for centuries. But, when confronted with causing Gojo harm, Geto's body is the first to fight against him. Both in his memories entering his mind after changing bodies but also in the way he tried to choke himself. Just as Gojo's soul recognized Geto and not Geto, Geto's soul recognized Gojo's.

Ken!Geto was the last person Gojo saw before being sealed.

As two of the closest people to Geto after his defection, Mimiko and Nanako harbored resentment toward Gojo for killing him but would not seek revenge as even they knew that Gojo was Geto's one and only best friend.

⚠️ Beyond the Animation ⚠️ Spoiler warning for JJK chapters 217-236.

Of Love and Strength

We interrupt this SatoSugu doom scroll to highlight a very pertinent theme that writhes through the cast of the strongest sorcerers. We see it with Kashimo, this restlessness of being the strongest and how others sought him out for his validation because... they admired his strength. Frustrated by the isolation of never finding a worthy fight, he cut them down mercilessly, always seeking a bigger battle. He's not the only reincarnated sorcerer who found second life just to flex on these modern sorcerers (the dude with the pompadour comes to mind right before Yuta called him bitchless). BUT the most interesting comeback is that of Yorozu, possessing Tsumiki, who seeks to prove her love by besting Sukuna in Megumi's meat suit. Through Yorozu's mission, this obsession with strength and equals is contextualized with a romantic undertone. She believes the cure to his loneliness (and I suppose hers) would be forged if she defeated him.

The battle itself even relays their attacks as a form of intimacy. The stakes of the fight are marriage, even though they both intend to kill one another. Yorozu takes offense at being fought with someone else's cursed technique. Even as she use's her Domain Expansion, she is flattered that Sukuna is able to make light work of it saying, "what...? You know all that about me? I'm so happy." It speaks to a familiarity, a consideration that Yorozu seems to be thrilled by. As if, having bared the breadth of their power to one another, that that honesty puts them closer than those who couldn't have made it this far in a fight. Hypothesis: Whoever taught Sukuna about love before and whatever Yorozu gave Sukuna prior to succumbing to the battle is going to raise the stakes down the line because, of course Gege has something else to devastate us after being lulled into a false sense of security. All in all, I think this fight served a larger purpose than burdening Megumi's soul as it showed how pervasive this link between strength and isolation is even back to the Heian period. It's what inspires Gojo's countermission after Geto defects but, prior to their split, we see the express knowledge of one another which implied an earnest connection. What I find funny is the fact that all these other characters assess their equals in these knockdown blow out fights but Gojo and Geto just... existed in harmony, acknowledging one another without all that? Away from Geto, we see Gojo is freest when he can go all out against Toji and Sukuna. Even with Sukuna, he believed his fists and power to be a means to earnestly communicate that he, too, knew that loneliness well. I include all this to say that it had to have been really sad to have finally found your equal, someone you chose to be by your side... only for them to leave and for you to never fill the gap that they left. This isolation was so despairing that he wished to liberate even his foes of it.

To not mention Shoko voicing her annoyance at Gojo's belief system centering not leaving anyone alone while she was beside him the whole time is a necessary trio inclusion. This is not commentary on the official translation that suggests Shoko's in love with one of them. Instead, this is a testament to the fact that, at the end of the day, Gojo felt alone if Geto wasn't beside him. Where one could argue Geto's mission was informed by a number of factors, re: protecting the future of people like Riko, preventing the sacrifice of people like Haibara, negating the abuse/bigotry experienced by Nanako and Himiko and lessening the burden on people like Gojo and himself, Gojo's sole motivation has always had Geto and/or what happened with Geto in mind. Shoko living in the reality of Gojo's vision gives me a bit of the sad, too.

Upon finally being unsealed from the prison realm and with the imposter Ken!Geto being the last face he saw, his first inclination is to track down Geto's body rather than reuniting with everyone else [that's left].

Mourning Geto's body is also imminently on Gojo's to do list pre-Sukuna fight.

When given the opportunity to pick the date of his fight with Sukuna... Gojo picks Christmas Eve, the anniversary of Geto's death. Once more, this is a lovers' holiday that even Kenjaku mocks upon hearing the selection.

"We seek not to be born on the same day, in the same month and in the same year. We merely hope to die on the same day, in the same month and in the same year. May the Gods of Heaven and Earth attest to what is in our hearts. If we should ever do anything to betray our friendship, may heaven and the people of the earth both strike us dead." -Romance of the Three Kingdoms

Let's just let that marinate.

At the end of Gojo's life... Geto's is the first face he sees. Still, in his mind, the cherry atop the satisfying fight with Sukuna would have been Geto being among those congratulating him. Not high school Geto as we see him in this afterlife. But cult leader Geto who Gojo never once lost affection for. Truly maddening.

I was going to include stuff from the light novels and the OP and EP's (since there are so many visual easter eggs in season 2) but this got to be really long and kind of just an obsessive retelling of events so.. if you've made it this far, you are probably crazy like me. In which case, I am sorry.

[fic-dumpster]

*kicks a rock* I wanna write more stuff like this but the way I had to delete a gazillion comments makes me wonder if ppl read the warnings 🧍🏻‍♀️. I even put it in red.

Hate is such a strong word

Pairing: Bully!Ran Haitani x F!Reader

Word count: 860

Warnings: MDNI, hate fuck sort of, very confused and obsessed Ran, degradation, corruption kink, bullying, mean Ran, noncon, tongue kissing, PiV, cunnilingus, fingering, words such as cock/pussy/cunt/whore/bitch/slut, headcanon-ish format. Idk… let me know if I missed anything!

Bully!Ran who hates your guts. He sees you walking around all pristine and clean. Not a single hair was out of place. He hates that. Not even makeup he could imagine running down your face when he eventually makes you cry.

Bully!Ran who can’t stand your voice when you speak in class. He hates your laughter when you’re talking with your friends at lunch and above all, he despises your humming when you’re standing in front of your locker. His locker is in the same row and has to stand your shitty voice every damn time.

Bully!Ran who can’t even stand being near you so he makes Rindou throw your books to the floor, send your phone flying, and pull your well-kept hair. Ran sickly enjoys watching you on your knees after his brother trips you.

Bully!Ran who got tired of you. Tired of you not noticing all the things you made him feel.

Bully!Ran who one morning snatched you up from your last class, cornering you in the gym closet. Oh, how he relished in your begging. You were gonna lose your perfect attendance? He couldn’t care less. You were gonna miss an important class? Fuck that.

Bully!Ran who clamped your face in one hand, wishing that you at least wore some eyeliner or lipgloss so he could smear it all over your pretty face he so much despised. He has to make do with what he has, right? Your tears and his cum would decorate your skin so well.

Bully!Ran who has you squirming like the worm you are in his hold. His other hand quickly wrenched away your white shirt, buttons flying everywhere and a constricted scream interrupted your begging.

Bully!Ran who despite your clearly terrified eyes and shaking hands, didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. On the contrary, he felt euphoric. Your trashing subsided, you couldn’t fight him, you couldn’t get away and nobody was coming to save you. Once you realized that, you became more pliant in his grasp.

Bully!Ran who squeezed your chest to his heart’s content. Pulling one mound out of your frilly white undergarments. He squeezed until you gave a pained whimper, and he wanted more of that. The frenzy he didn’t even notice he had— tenfold.

Bully!Ran who saw things clearer now. Amid the craze, he had an epiphany as his eyes focused on your face and the little inhuman sounds you were making. He didn’t hate those… no… he didn’t hate you at all. He just hated you for not doing all those things to him. Not to your friends, not your teachers and especially not any male in the vicinity. They didn’t deserve to even be in your presence. This… all this he was witnessing belongs to him.

Bully!Ran who with a frustrated growl violently crashed his mouth with yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise.

Bully!Ran who felt his whole body ignite as his tongue commanded yours to comply. Pulling your tongue out, his teeth gripped it harshly. a quiet wail from you and he was instantly bending your neck back and licking. His tongue traveled all the way down to the crease of your chest to your lips, lapping at your mouth and you had no say in whether you like it or not.

Bully!Ran who had you inconsolably crying on the cold floor as he buried his face in your cunt. Your hands desperately tried to get him away but it was all a game to him— you weren’t moving him an inch.

Bully!Ran who kept your legs wrapped around his head, resting on his wide shoulders as he called you a messy needy slut for being so wet for someone you supposedly didn’t care about. Every word from him was a slap to your swollen pussy.

Bully!Ran who pushed his fingers in your cunt, telling you how you sounded like a bitch in heat, calling you a liar and a whore for him. The squelching sound of his fingers violently moving inside you had him feeling sick. So sick that he stirred his long fingers deeper, feeling that spongy spot that had you yelling out his name for the first time as his stomach felt a sudden gut punch and bursting sensation.

Bully!Ran who cursed once he realized he came in his pants. He was fuming. And just as fast, he had you on your back with your shredded panties in your mouth.

Bully!Ran who takes your writhing body in between his arms as your abused hole warmed his cock.

“Stay— fuck… stay fucking still, damn it.”

Oh, Ran was going to burst again at any moment if your warmth kept squeezing him like that. Slow, deep thrust left you out of breath. Ran stretching out your little tight cunt around him, and just like that he kept pounding into your creamy insides.

“Such a good girl, taking what she’s given,” he grunted against your temple, “I’m gonna mess you up so good— fuck… you like that? You want me to ruin you?” His hoarse laugh reverberated through your bodies. “You’re tightening down there. ‘m taking that as a yes.”

A.N: damnnnnm… the first thing I write for tr after my drought of two years is debauchery. Ta-da? 🤗 ✨ I still feel so out of touch with my words N E WAY! enjoy K bye 💋