#geto cameo in the glasses

[forgetfulmachineart]

[ID: Teen Gojo pouting and crying shiny tears. He's resting his chin on is arm on a desk and his circular glasses are in his hands. Some of the star tears float off and some drip down his face. /End ID]

⭐ Star Boy ⭐

[tonycries]

Night(wing) Crawler - G.S.

Synopsis. Trapped with a too-smug, too-handsome Nightwing by the very same villains you were trying to swindle was not how you planned to spend your night. Luckily for you, Gojo can think of a much better way to pass the time.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! anti-hero!reader, Nightwing! Gojo, BATMAN AU, enemies-to-Iovers, forced proximity, píning, MARATHONS, manhandIing, Gojo goes FÉRAL, overstím, he is BIG, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, tummy buIges, BREÉDING, RIPPING suits, spítting, cúmplay, chokíng, arguing during it, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, matíng presses, making Gojo CRY, oraI (f + m rec.), p talking, breaking furniture, Red Hood! Geto cameo, slight vioIence, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 10.4k

A/N. *evil laughs* I just had to.

“You.”

“You.”

“Enchanté, sweetheart.” And Gojo - oh, it’s so undeniably Gojo Satoru’s sapphire gaze behind that satiny mask - tilts over his tall, bubbling glass of champagne towards you with the cockiest of winks. A wink. 

Your teeth set on edge - out of all the pompous, boorish high society balls that he could crash undercover, it just had to be the one that you were planning to heist. 

And by the most pompous, boorish hero of all. 

If looks could kilI, then you’d be upturning Gojo’s grave to finish him off yourself already. 

“Didn’t think you were one for masquerade balls.” He’s leaning in to brush off an invisible piece of lint from your shoulder, words coming out in scorching hot puffs against your ear. Low, hoarse. “Changed much during your lil’ vacation, hm? How is the Gotham State Penitentiary this time of year?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How’s the hottest one of the Bat Family doing?” You’re sniping back, head cocked innocently. Silent for just how long it takes for Gojo’s eyes to widen, breath to hitch- “Y’know…Toji Fushiguro. How’s Batman doing, Nightwing?”

There’s a strangely sharp glint in his stare, and his traitorously handsome jaw clenches through a wild grin. 

With a wide sweep of the bustling ballroom, he murmurs over the live orchestra. “You’re gonna give me away~”

“Don’t even have to try.” You’re tilting your head up in defiance when he closes in so many sultry inches, all the way until you could feel the heated press of Gojo’s ticking biceps through his formal suit. Heady masculine cologne invading your senses, “That mask does more than enough damage.”

Honestly, what fool dons a disguise with a mask that looks exactly like his hero one? 

Though, you weren’t complaining - if Nightwing accidentally provided the perfect distraction for you to swindle future big-shot congressman and business heir, Naoya Zenin, out of his precious diamonds then so be it.

The fact that Batman’s protégé would be humiliated was only a plus. 

Scoffing, “So what you’re saying is you want me out of it? Scandalous, but I don’t fuck before a first date.”

A very, very big plus. 

“Never in your wildest dreams, Nightwing.” You’re pettily raising your voice just a pitch to make the sculptured man in front of you squirm, as much as he would never admit it. “S’it that you don’t fuck or you don’t get to? Come here to try out your hand with the wives of the bourgeoisie?”

“I’m here on business, sweetheart. Gotta get to that brat Naoya’s office.” Gojo nods towards a gaggle of ogling older ladies, ever-the-charmer. 

It’s enough to make them swoon, and - you hate to admit it - for your heart to stutter just a beat. 

Because Gojo Satoru looked good. All powerful, lean muscle that carried him so many numerous inches over six feet. The rich, yolkish lighting makes his dark blue jacket look almost painted to his slender waist, and those meaty, meaty thighs. 

Easily the sexiest man in this room full of sordid businessmen and shifty politicians.

If you dared to let your gaze roam, you’re sure they’d stray past his milky collarbones to catch a hint of the even tighter black and blue hero suit he was surely wearing under. 

He looked more than good, if you were being honest.

But when has one of Gotham’s most notorious cat burglars ever needed to be honest?

And you’re so caught up in pondering just what the others see in him that it gives you an electric jolt to feel the doughy pads of Gojo’s gloved fingertips brushing down your thigh. Feeling as if he was searing through your saucy, glittering gown.

There’s a tremor of amusement when his sensory tips meet the cold hilt of your famed dagger. Hidden. 

Tonality dripping with something sickly sweet that makes your tummy lurch, “And it seems like I’m not the only one, Prowler. The Zenin diamonds?”

“The Zenin drug smuggling ring?”

You both give a curt, almost-missable nod. Your eyes back to analyzing the sprawling celebrations for any sign of the aforementioned Zenin heir himself.

Though, not for long- “Y’know, maybe I should send you back to your lovely penitentiary right now, girl. Already did once.” Whispered right against your sensitive earlobe. 

“Darling–” Your plastic smile is almost painful as you feel the interested stares from around the room. You did make quite an eye-catching pair, especially so close. Hand drifting to his beefy, veined forearm and pinching, “-you’re too close~”

“I don’t think I’m close enough.” 

Nails clawing down his smooth skin and towards his pale wrist. “Close enough for me to strike a vein without a single person here knowing any better.”

“That’s kinda hot–” Gojo’s lips quirk upwards, sleek brows quirking up to the curtain of his snowy bangs. And you don’t know where to look - down below, where he’s adjusting his pants with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, or up above where his irises follow a triangle between both your eyes n’ your lips, dead-on. “-for a petty thief.”

“You little-”

“Big, actually.” And of course, he has to interrupt with a look on his face that tells you he knew you were fighting to not take a glance downwards and confirm for yourself. “I’m very big.”

“I hear words compensate.” You’re batting your lashes through your own lacy Stygian mask, too close. “And I hear Toji’s bigger.”

“Enough with the-”

“My my, young love sure is fiery!” Saved by a rough, booming voice to your side of the festivities. Though, you’re not sure if it would technically be considered a “save” when you’re finally snapping your head and recognizing the source of those words. “I always do tell Naoya ‘ere that it’s time to settle down. No such luck so far!”

As Naobito Zenin slaps an overly harsh hand down on his son’s crisp, suit-cladden shoulder with a bark of laughter, you mutter. “Can’t imagine why.”

Though, perhaps it was a bit too loud.

Because Naoya’s nostrils flare in a sharp inhale, and you’re hearing Gojo stifle a breathy rumble of laughter from his broad chest- shit, since when were you two even pressed up like this? No wonder it must have looked…romantic to an outsider.

“Naobito Zenin, at your service.”

“Ah, my apologies for being so rude.” You’re pushing away from the hero as if it burned - and by the strange tingling on your skin, maybe it really did. Reaching over to the wizened, leering man for a handshake. “I’m-”

“Mrs. Gojo, of course.” Gojo gets there first. “My wife and I are new to Gotham, you see. We wanted to make connections here in our new home.” A warm hand casually slings over your shoulder, slender digits tight. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

What….the fuck.

And perhaps you should’ve screamed bloody murder - maybe that would make the Zenin’s take pity on you after an encounter with this lecher. 

“That’s right.” Perhaps you shouldn’t have leaned in just as you did to his hard front. But if the way that Gojo was momentarily stunned told you anything, it was that you were doing something right. “It’s all been quite a change.”

Naoya’s thin, mahogany brows raise silently - new to the city and already invited to one of the most elite social gatherings of the year? That certainly was intriguing.

“Gojo? Gojo…so familiar…” Naobito muses out loud, and your veins boil with anxiety as his face scrunches. Before he clicks his fingers with flourish, “A-ha–! You wouldn’t have anything to do with the revered Gojo Enterprises now, would you?”

Your faux-husband places a hand over his heart, “Ah, my most beloved little project.” 

“President?”

“CEO.”

Calling a multi-billion dollar foreign company a “little project” was generous, you think. But what was even more so was- “Though, it’s nothing in comparison to what I have coming up soon.” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Oh! We probably shouldn’t reveal much, however. Confidential, only friends and family.”

Naobito Zenin was practically frothing from the mouth at this point. And you notice that even Naoya’s suspicious furrow had almost completely disappeared. Almost. 

“C-confidential-” The older man squeals, before bumping a fist into Gojo’s puffed-up chest. “Why, we’re friends now, aren’t we? Tell me tell me- just between you and I, how big are we talking?”

“Big.”

“Bigger than Gojo Enterprises? S-surely impossible-”

You cut in, “Bigger. Better, considering the association with the parliament we’ve negotiated this time. Whoops- my apologies, darling, that simply slipped out.”

And through it all, Naoya stays unnervingly quiet - even while his father tries and fails to hide his squawks of delight. 

It would’ve almost been comedic if the air wasn’t so cut-throat tense. As if the clinking glasses and chatter of the ball were infinite miles away from your little bubble now. 

Past animosity almost evaporated, you’re managing to meet Gojo’s eyes. His cloud-pale eyebrows wiggling with a knowing waver, and you find yourself plastering on an exaggerated look of distress before carrying out the finishing blow.

“Oh, but you know–” Patting the delicious curves of his pecs, “-my husband has been so stressed lately. I’m afraid he’ll overwork himself mad with this new project.”

“Aw, dear…”

“I do wish he’d take on a partner to collaborate and split the innumerable profits with. But, alas, there hasn’t been a company competent or high-profile enough for our taste.”

And by the sharp elbow Naobito digs into Naoya’s ribs, you already know that you’ve won. Well, that the two of you have won.

Reluctantly, almost as if every word made his bones ache, his son purses out a tight. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo, my father and I certainly hope this isn’t too forward, but we believe that- ah, we might just be exactly what you’re looking for.”

You both adopt a look of faint surprise, “Oh?”

Another nudge, another step forward. 

“Apologies for the late introduction, but I’m Naoya Zenin. Future congressman, future CEO of the immensely successful Zenin Corporations” Each syllable practically oozing with icy smugness, “I believe I know what you want, and we are it. Please, allow me to reach out on behalf of our Zenin hospitality and lead the two of you to our private business room; where we can discuss this further…in-depth.”

Somehow, the trail end of his sentence made you shudder. 

“Ah, how wonderful!” Gojo’s arm wraps possessively around your waist, “Lead the way, Naoya.”

And if you were lucky to be led straight to the dragon’s lair of treasures, then you were even luckier when one of those said dragons stayed behind.

Indeed, Naobito was held back in conversation with another undoubtedly important parliamentary figure as you and Gojo followed Naoya out of the massive, gilded doors. Silent. Rigid. 

“Take him out. Drug-smuggling documents, then diamonds.” Gojo rasps from the corner of his mouth, voice barely audible for you let alone the stiff figure a few steps in front of you. Leading you along windingly decadent corridors and staircases. 

You’re shaking your head, eyes following the velvety curtains and gleaming ornaments on display and wondering whether you should increase your scope for this heist even more than just the diamonds. “Diamonds, then whatever. I don’t give a shit what you do.”

“Drug-smuggling documents, then diamonds, then prison for you, girl.” He snarks back, “Unless– you wanna make up for this appalling date by actually going out with-”

“We’re here.”

It seems that the Zenin’s did have quite an affinity for interrupting you two at the most important of times. 

And the only thing keeping Gojo from curling his features into a sneer is the sight of those rich, mahogany double doors in front of him. This was it. 

The infamous Zenin office room.

With enough secrets to overturn the nation, and– Gojo sneaks a glimpse at the determined set of your gaze - enough diamonds, too. 

Naoya’s spindly fingers twist on the burnished golden door handles, letting them creak open just a few inches ajar. Dim lighting floods out through the crack, and you’re seeing the outline of an expensive cross between an office room and a lounge room.

He gestures his hands in a wave inside with an almost-bored sort of drawl, “Guests first, I insist.”

Your fingers itch towards the dagger strapped to your thigh, and Gojo’s stare narrows. Tone steely yet polite, “No no, as the future master of the house-”

“I insist.”

“Alright…” He plants a staggering palm on the small of your back, “Come along then, sweetheart.”

Tentatively stepping onto the luxurious red carpet inside at the same time, you swear from your cunning optics you see Naoya’s lips twitch-

And then it happens.

All in the span of a nanosecond that neither you nor Gojo have the time to react - the floor and the ceiling crack open in an almost metre-wide line dividing you two and the door, a thick wall of metal snapping! shut in place before you can blink, and suddenly– suddenly, you’re trapped. 

“Fuck-”

“No!”

“You must excuse me for the rude welcome-” Naoya’s voice drifts over, and you’re noticing that the gleaming wall had a small window pane. Enough for you to see a sliver of crazed, honeypool eyes, “-Prowler and Nightwing.” 

He knows.

Of course, he knew. You were here trapped between a thoroughly bolted, heavy-duty panel of metal harder than diamonds. Ones especially made for trained heroes and- well, you. 

And one furious bang! of your fist told you that not even your overpowered strength would be able to break through - it barely even rattled the barrier’s bolts that proudly stood circumference of your head. Running the expanse from floor to ceiling, you were backed into a corner. 

Looking behind you, you’re met with the rest of the gleaming office; shelves upon shelves of books, a busy desk, cushy loveseats. And no window. 

No exit.

He’s spitting, face twisting into heaps of wrinkles as he grins. “My father might be half-blind, but I’m not.” Pointing accusingly, “You almost got me, I admit. But any fool could tell- the tension, the stupid flirting. Who else would it fuckin’ be if not for you two?”

Crossing your arms, you do your best to keep out the tremble in your voice. “Quite frankly, I’m almost insulted.”

“I’m not.”

And you do not glower at Gojo…this time. To firmly disprove Naoya’s point, if anything. 

The other man clenches his teeth, throwing his hands. “I don’t care what you feel. This is checkmate, so now you both simply die.”

Running your hands through your cage, you could practically feel the power. The strength. “Well, it seems you’re not just beauty- well, you’re not beauty at all, actually.”

“Don’t forget, he isn’t brains either.” Gojo pipes up, nodding towards you. “I know this daddy’s boy wasn’t the one to make this lair. It reads more like the works of-”

“Shut up shut up shut up-” You and him watch in mild astonishment as your captor drags his fingers through his hay-blond locks and pulls. You swear you could count every red, popped blood vessel in his bulging eyes. “-insufferable fucking- I have you two at my mercy, and when my father hears about this he will be pleased. Very pleased.” 

You will yourself not to gulp, “There’s nothing you can do to us.”

“Wait and watch. After all, I am the future head of Zenin Corporations, I’ll kill both of you. It doesn’t matter how.”

Before you can torment him any further, he turns tail and throws a withering glare your way. Hands on the doors, it feels like something leaden is forming in your throat. “Better sit tight until the ball ends and we can have our ah- fun little afterparty.”

.

.

.

“Can’t you stop that infernal noise, girl.”

You’re halting your body mid-punch, a thin line of sweat trickling from your temple. Heaving out, “I don’t see you helping.” 

Not even waiting for a response before you’re back to gifting the office wall with a solid CLANG! You’d already attempted the same with the metallic partition, to not even a single crater. And by the unaffected state of the rest of the room, you’re slowly realizing that every one of these four walls might just be made from the same material. 

Fuck.

BANG!

“For fucks-”

“What are you doing, then?” You’re whirling around to face a precarious Gojo Satoru, standing on one foot on top of a high bookshelf and murmuring utterly ridiculously to something clutched in his palm. “An interpretive dance routine won’t get us out of here.”

He’s been like this for the entire time - it could’ve been hours, it could’ve been minutes - since you’ve been trapped here. All he’s done was rifle through a few files and snatch a few documents. And…this. 

Hell- you didn’t even find your diamonds, yet. 

“You think about ‘us’ a lot?”

Rolling your eyes- you can’t even bother with a scowl. Instead, turning back to spend your time planting CRASH! after CRASH! over his protests. 

“Keep it down, sweetheart, I can’t-” Punching your way through even harder - making even louder noise, on purpose. “-hear-” Perhaps you could kill him before Naoya even gets here. “-the mic-” 

“What?” You’re grunting, ears still ringing from the deafening noise yourself. 

And just then you find your brows knitting together because Gojo Satoru looks so…satisfied. It strikes you to your very core. Which was definitely never a good sign. 

Jumping down from the bookshelf in one, fluid motion, he shows off a tiny rounded gadget grasped in one hand. “You’ll see.” Gojo purrs at your questioning gaze, winking. “You’ll see very soon. We’ll be fine, promise.”

Yeah, you really didn’t like the sound of that.

But before you can swivel back to your target - you swear you were seeing a crack - Gojo’s tucking away the mysterious object into his jacket pocket and taking it off. Letting the silken fabric hit the floor with a dull schwf! Right along with his tie, his belt-

“Wh-what are you doing?” It comes out more breathless than you’d have liked. 

“Changing into my supersuit, that’s what.” He lifts up his mask to roll his eyes, full and well knowing. The pinkish perk of his tongue drags a slow glide of wetness across his lips as he unbuckles his belt - looking you straight in the eyes. “Why? This turn ya on, sweetheart?”

“No.”

Yes.

Fuck, you hated how even despite turning away, you couldn’t help but angle your body just so that you’re ogling Gojo from your peripheries. You hated how every thud of clothes hitting the floor made a fresh new layer of goosebumps bead along your clammy, heated skin. 

It was so hot. 

“You should do the same– you must be getting warm with all that ruthless, blundering violence.” Comes the sing-song voice from behind you, oh- he was enjoying this. It sent Gojo’s heart racing to watch the way you were all flustered because of his actions. His body. 

Scoffing, another punch. “You just want to see skin, lecher.”

“With a body like that- fuck yeah.”

“Save it for the wives of the bourgeoisie.”

“Scared, Prowler?”

Oh, for the love of-

“Not on your life, Nightwing.”

And then you do it.

You make the mistake of giving into your instinctual desire to glare at Gojo Satoru, as if your eyes never wanted to leave him. And then you see it. 

All his long, tantalizing muscles and curves - being hugged so tightly in that black and blue suit that you could count every one of his eight washboard abs. Fuck. Gojo’s body seemed to go on for miles, pulling the latex tightly over his rippling flesh. 

Right on cure, your eyes trail from the bulging valley of his pecs, to the ridges of his v-line to…you gulp.

You always did think it gave him an unfair advantage - just how sexy he was. It was one of the reasons he managed to distract you enough to lock you up in Gotham State Penitentiary last time, after all. 

Tittering, “Take a picture it’ll-”

“Take this fist to your face.”

“Kinky~ it’ll only make me harder, y’know.”

Hard-er. 

And all of a sudden it was as if the tension in the room was like molasses, and you were drowning in the saccharine concoction. Nightwing- Gojo really was too cocky for his own good, but what was even worse was he could back it up, too. 

Your skin flares up with a burning breeze, and your voice comes out peaky. “Fine.” Through his mask, you swear his eyes widen once your hands fly up to take off your own. And then to the zipper of your gown, “But only because it’s so hot.”

Pulling it down just an inch before-

“Wait…let me?”

Just a flash of that glossy black suit of yours, just a single sneak-peek of it enveloping your skin and he was pressing you to the wall. Ravenous.

You were gorgeous. 

Balmy heat of his body making yours sizzle up, all Gojo needs is only one of his massive palms to pin both your wrists wayyy above your head. Meaty thighs massaging up against yours to stop your jostling body. 

Lips twitching up into a smirk at the carnal hunger in your eyes, “Let me…help with that, yeah?” His gravelly words resound in your eardrums and make your thighs squeeze. The fat fringes of his digits draw slow lines down the side of your figure, memorizing. “S’a hero’s duty, after all.” 

You’re growling, “Do it. Do it if you’re not scar- ah!”

But that’s exactly what Gojo had been waiting for. 

Exactly the moment to make your pretty voice break, exactly the moment for him to tuck a finger behind your back and all but rip–! your dress from the back.

“Would ya look at thaaaat-” He’s snickering out in awe as your flimsy gown falls halfway through tatters around you, all along with your dagger. Revealing a snug suit that makes his mouth simply water. All gorgeous lines of your body that he can’t get enough of. “Always fuckin’ hated this suit.”

His sinful pants strike you in gusts when Gojo leans his admiring head down, down, down to push right into the valley between your heaving tits. “Made me s-soooo fucking hard every time I saw ya in it.”

Did you just make Gojo Satoru stutter?

No wait- even better, was that achingly hard outline bumping right between your legs what you thought it was?

He’s rubbing the swollen outline of his mushroom tip at the target of your hot core, drinking in that cutely surprised expression on your face. Something devilish. “Oh~? What’s this? I-if this is what it took to shut that pretty mouth, I’d have done it sooner.”

But what he didn’t account for was the way that you would take the initiative shutting him up. 

The way you would breach that almost-non-existent air between you two and crash your lips onto his. In French kiss so filthy that it makes Gojo moan–

“You’re better like this-” You spit between his strawberry pink lips, the taste of his bubblegum sweet taste now your most favorite. Cherry flavored, almost. “-when you shut up.”

In response, he’s nipping on your lower lip and draaaagging. Smirking at the adorable squeal that lets off from your ajar jaw, “Can’t even keep yer h-hands off of me, always knew you found me irresistible.” And Gojo doesn’t even need his other hand to entrap you now, pinning you with his muscled front. A sultry glissade of mere inches up n’ down up n’ down up n’- 

You could tell that he was big. 

So could that soft palm of yours, sneaking down to cop an agonizing feel of his rotund bulge. Fingers rovering generously along the damp crevice of his slit, “What was that?”

“Found me ir-re-sis-”

Harder. 

“Shiiiit.” He hiccups, head swimming. “Suck- suck on my tongue.”

You do. Making Gojo’s eyes glaze over at the twist of your pillowy lips, making him rut-

“Fuckin’ dirty little thing.” The rough texture of his tastebuds swirl across your own, and even through his mask you swear he looked fucked-out already. Taking off his suave gloves, he leaves one spank on your thigh. Two. “Mmm- spread them f’me now.”

You’re snarling, despite the furious throb you feel from your leaking cunt. “Who’d ya think you are to ngh- boss me around?”

“Have it your way then, girl.”

And when he says that shit, he means it.

Before you know it, he’s sitting on the capped curves of his knees with a loud bam! You’re grimacing for but a mere split-second at just how much it must have hurt, before realizing that Gojo doesn’t care.

It’s the last fucking thing on his mind once he’s gliding an open, calloused palm underneath one of your unsteady legs and wrangling it on top of his sculpted shoulders. 

You’re latching a hand through his soft, fawny strands with a yelp. “Asshole.”

“Witch.”

“Pussy.”

“Pussy, alriiight—” The borders of his short, manicured nails draw an invisible line down, down, down to coast the puffy fissure of your pussylips. Before pinching and tearing cleanly between the legs of your latex suit. Breathing deeply in- “There she is. Pretty girl…hey there, the name’s Satoru. I’m the stuff of your wettest dreams.”

You can’t even bite out a retort - a plea - before Gojo’s diving nose-deep allll the way into your drooling cunt. Nudging apart your gluey folds with his perky buttoned nose, lengthy tongue slathering your hole with a fat drag-

He’s basically glued. Addicted with only a single taste, and swerving his tongue to scratch up in solid, dizzying circles around and around your soppy entrance. 

“Sh-shit-” Your thighs break out in jitters, and he only responds with a firm tug to interlock your craned limb ‘round his neck. Making your spine bend the perfect curvature off of the cool wall, “-more. More.”

SPANK!

The rims of Gojo’s fingers burn into the globes of your ass, and he’s so unrepentant about it. So smug. Making such a spectacular show of letting your globs of slick pour down his tongue. 

Kiss-bitten maw hanging wiiidely agape to make you watch the thick rivulets of sap that hit the back of his awaiting throat. He’s dripping wet all the way down to his bobbing Adam’s apple, treacly splotches of juice hitting the floor in puddles. 

Gojo gurgles out something feral, still mushing his pert maw to your wet mound so you’re feeling each n’ every vibration. 

“Dooooown, kitty.” Another spank, and another steamy snog of his mouth. Though, this time he’s letting his pearly whites catch on your plumpened clit. Dangerously so. “Watch ngh- watch it, I bite.”

With a frustrated tut, you’re pushing his pretty features even deeper into your pussy. Making him pinch your sensitive nub between his teeth even harder. Slobbering a long drag from every inch of his pointed chin, to the very apples of his high cheekbones. 

“Maybe m’into that…Satoru.”

“Oh- Oh.” Through the bleary gaps in your eyes, you’re noticing that Gojo was blushing. Bright. Red up to the tips of his ears. Burning skin chafing up into your own, and you’re practically melting at his heat.

That sound was like heaven to him. You were like heaven to him. And Gojo’s dilated irises hold direct eye contact with you once he’s digging his round fingertips roughly onto your asscheeks. Resonating out such saturated squelches after squelches as his tongue laps every nook and cranny. “You’re gonna get it- fuck, you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

So many delirious moans rip out of you with every slash of his tongue, perking it in every right sensitive spot of yours - without even trying.

Mewling, “Toru- ngh- Toru.”

“Easy there, easy there.” He giggles out in a wet sputter right into your inner thighs, ragged voice all waterlogged with so many ounces of you and your sweet pussy. In the blink of an eye, you feel like you’re floating - only mere moments later do you realize that it’s because Gojo’s holding you up. 

With only one hand.

Relieving you of any thought other than jerking your cunt repeatedly on top of his open mouth in a sultry tempo. Back and forth. 

“Have no idea h-how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He spits into your weeping pussy - both literally and figuratively. Free hand darting upwards to push aside the glutinous barrier of your folds and spray it with a thick wad of spittle. Licking over the shiny sheen, “No idea. Always actin’ so ngh- high and mighty. Had to fuck my fist every time I fought ya, had to run off and- shiiiit cum to the thought of you all over my tongue.”

Gojo was babbling, and right now it was as if he started and couldn’t stop.

“Annoying fuckin’ girl.” He’s snarling, every syllable falling out before he can even think. The swollen point his thumb treks past your walls and catches on the fluttering orifice of your hole. “Ya just need to be eaten out reeeeal proper. Lemme show you how it’s done.”

Then you feel like you’re being split-apart, and you knew you were fucked. 

Because Gojo’s fingers were both long and girthy. 

Such a lethal combination that had you mussing up his silky bangs while you held on for dear life. 

His barreling inches crawl right past that first cozy outer ring, showering it with such lustrous layers of pure, slippery need. Pushing and pushing until they’re skirting to thrash right into the bulging area of your g-spot. 

And just when he’s pummelling your molten wall with a harsh strike, just when Gojo’s mouth parts at the pure ecstasy of finding it. Of how pretty you looked. 

You’re letting your own, too, in a frail whimper. “Th-that all you got, Nightwing?”

“Ohhh, I love a woman that bullies me.” 

All that Gojo whispers into your cunt - low, almost reverent - before his touch turns deadly. Cock aching painfully, thighs squeezing together until his pulsing, hot shaft gets squeezed. 

You’re faced with the full force of his slick-covered fingers pumping direct hit after hit. Sending white-hot flashes of pressure straight from the stout ends of his fingerpads and right to your brain.

“That all I got? H-heh, that all I got-” He’s echoing your previous words like a mantra. Breaking. Octaves higher as if he was on the verge of laughing. “How fucking cute.”

“C-cute?”

“So fucking cute.”

“I-I’m not- fuck!”

Pinpointing his long index purposefully in a massage right up against your g-spot, like it was a button for him to toy and push. 

Gojo’s smile leers ever-wider as he holds it there, listening to the way your moans pitch creakily. “What’s that?” And you’re barely spilling off a few more syllables in response before he angles his wrist deeper to push down even harder. Making your entire body shudder, “What’s that? Yeahh, s’what I thought.”

You were so tight around him that Gojo’s forcing himself to bite his driveling bottom lip to hold back countless embarrassing whimpers. Because you were clinging onto him like gum, tugging his fingers back into your boiling hot depths every time he’s reeling back.

And the problem with Gojo Satoru was that he couldn’t decide. 

He wanted you. And he wanted it all. 

Couldn’t stop from alternating between scissoring his dexterous fingers into every ridge and crevice of your goopy cunt, and making out with you like he was parched. Lolling his tongue like he was drunk- all over your swooping slit and rubbing in tiny hearts on top of your hooded clit. 

“Need you. Need you s-shoooo fuuuckin’ badly.” He couldn’t even speak properly at this point. You’re flinching as a third finger slimily squirms inside your pussy. “Want it all.”

So fucking sloppy in ways you’ve never seem him.

Your dewdrops of slick coat the outside of his mouth and stick in delicate strings, growing thicker and thicker by the minute as he once more strikes your magical spot and makes your toes curl. Gasping, “Yeah- yeah, fuck. Take it, take it ngh- all, Satoru—”

You think you’re gonna snap.

“Upsie daisy.”

Basically being manhandled to lean your entire weight on his shoulders. You don’t think you’re even holding yourself up at all this point. Feeling every flex and ripple of the hero’s deltoids underneath your fleshy mounds.

You’re so loud - and not just from your mouth.

“Hell yeah. Talk t’me.” Juicy sloshes spring onto the edges of Gojo’s mouth after every gyration, practically devouring you. He narrows his lust-murked stare to your glistening hole, giggling - fucking giggling - at how your hips just can’t stay still. “She’s saying…ohhh she’s saying- saying she’s gonna be good f’me.”

You’re blinking down with dazed intrigue, watching with an empty head at the way that his motions only get faster. And faster. 

Pupils sprinting allll the way to the back of your heavy lids, “Close. Think- think m’so close, Toru.”

“Ya think?” He muses, drawing a bold stripe up your bruised and battered g-spot. One so hard that it has the corners of your lips flooding with a bubbling torrent of saliva, it has your eyes shuttering- “Oh, girl– I know. You’re cummin’ already, sweetheart.”

Shit- you were? You were. 

Head spinning, throat raw. 

And you didn’t even realize it with just how fucked-out you were on his long, lecherous tongue. Rendering your head permanently dizzy with those vulgar patterns he was drawing with it, both inside and out.

Your goopy walls tingle with the force of your high, ears popping with the pressure of those startling peaks after peaks. Ones that Gojo drags out gladly. 

“Cumming from the hah- the great Gojo Satoru, huh?” He’s groaning, tonality husked with a shiver of something predatory. Unstable. Needy. Smashing away over and over and over on your most tender spots, buzzing. “Cumming all over my mouth. Always was meant for this- meant for me.”

If you thought that the squelches from before were blasphemous, then you surely weren’t ready for the slurps that follow now. 

So loud. 

Slithering the curling tip of his tongue to slap down on your quivering entrance, he’s pounding your hole dually with a mean mouth and even meaner fingers. Merciless. 

You’re cumming and cumming and he’s stringing you along with every explosive ram and suck. Tired fingers pulling out of your hole with a wet plop! and lurching down to squeeze his achingly hard cock. Grinding the fat of his palm over n’ over across his length-

“S-soooo sensitive—” You’re sobbing out, eyes leaking hot tears once the crescendo of your orgasm pulls taut, powerful tingles rushing from where Gojo was latching his neat teeth onto your clit and biting. 

And not even wringing your fingers to scratch his scalp, not even draaaagging Gojo by his sweat-matted hair could get him to part. 

He wasn’t done yet. No. 

His chin hits the very back of your cunt as he targets your pussy with yet another viscous few wads of spittle. Scattering it all over your sloppy hole when he’d drunk up all your sweet sap and there wasn’t enough. “Wanna taste more o-of you. S’fuckin’ sweet, wanna taste more.”

Because to him it would never be enough.

Not even when you’d finally let your toes uncurl, not even when your cracked whimpers were turning hushed. Bated. 

Not even when he finally breaks his kiss between your legs with one last looooong slurp. Well, multiple. Gojo simply kept parting and coming back every few seconds with the most vulgar kisses because it hurt him to leave the very same pussy he’s been dreaming of since the day he first met you. 

“Fuck. Fuck.” Gojo seethes out through rough pants. The soppy thwack! of wiry ribbons of drool from both sets of lips smacking him in the face. It lacquers all over his prettily flushed face and makes a mess.

Yet, you think he’s never looked prettier. 

And the only thing messier was that smile he was giving you - dopey, and crazed. With beads of syrupy slick hanging off of his cerise lips, “You…you got my mask all dirty, sweetheart.”

“Dirty” was an understatement. 

Gojo’s black mask was drenched, soaked through until every bit of his milky skin touching it smeared with a shimmery lamination of sap. You’d done such a number on him that when he hooks a thumb underneath, it lets out the most sinful squelch!

“Hear that?” You’re watching, speechless, once he tugs it off haphazardly. Impatiently. Ethereal white locks splaying out and over like a halo, “That’s the sound of ya being eaten out reeeal good n’ proper.”

And when Nightwing takes his mask off, you have to blink. 

Because you’d fully and completely thought that Gojo Satoru could never be prettier - but when he was like this? When you could finally see his face fully?

Shit, you’re feeling your heart hammer against your ribs with a painful ba-dump–! just by looking into his summer blue eyes. The cute blush painting his features even more evident, and you’re catching his nose crinkle. 

You’re pushing back the stray twines of his bangs sticking onto his prespired forehead. A touch that makes him shiver, a touch that makes his hardened cock twitch in his supersuit. “Never put that on a-again, I swear.”

“Ate that pretty cunt out and you’ve hah- fallen f’me already, hm~?” He’s wriggling his pale brows, and the look in his eyes is so enchanted that it leaves you momentarily speechless.

If you’d fallen for Gojo now, then he had already fallen for you a long, long time ago.

You hand on his hair tightens, searing. Angling his handsomely pussydrunken face until he’s looking up at you, “And who was saying they’ve been hngh- dreaming of eating my ‘pretty cunt’ for ages now?”

“I…”

“Shut up.”

And when you tell him to shut up, he shuts up. For perhaps the first time in the twenty-something years he’s been terrorizing this Earth.

Oh, for just how famed Nightwing was for his reflexes, Gojo barely sees it coming when you’re pushing him onto the muggy floor and collapsing right on down with him. Feverish. Needy. 

He was so fucking hard that you swear you could see the zig-zag of his inflated veins through that massive bulge. Through his clothes-

Seriously, you’re ripping through the tough latex-y fabric wrapping around his inner thighs with a smirk. If he got to rip your supersuit then you should only return the favor. 

You can’t help yourself, the very tip of your mushy tongue drips with a few pearls of saliva with just how badly you wanted him in your mouth. You’d seen the way that Gojo was huffing and grinding his cock as much as he could when he was filthily making out with your cunt.

Judging by the way he was jolting and moaning at your every touch, you were surprised he didn’t cum just from-

Oh.

He did. 

And from the startled look of awe on Gojo’s face, he didn’t realize he had, either. 

“Oh?” You’re skimming the fat plane of your thumb over his leaky orifice right in the middle, bawling out thick ropes of creamy white which slipped n’ slid allll down your wrist in generous heaps. “A-and you called me ‘cute’.”

Shit, but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know where to look.

True to his word, Gojo was big - more than big, actually. 

His cock was oh-so-pretty, standing red and proud at something near nine or ten inches. Oodles of buttery seed dripping down the side and ready for you to lick up. 

Nestled above breeder balls, he’s lightning bolted with fat, rosé veins you couldn’t wait to feel scratch up your insides. A girthy circumference that made your poor knuckles ache to wrap around, so needy that every throb made your wrist jolt. 

So…sexy.

“Satoru…”

And something in your tone of voice seems to jolt Gojo into overdrive. 

He’s letting his meaty thighs crack open, displaying you with the attractive ripples of muscle. “C’mon, sweetheart-” A large hand softly cups the back of your unsteady head, “-clean up this- this mess you made.”

If this was any other time, you might’ve snapped back something about it being the mess he made himself. If this was any other time, you might’ve teased him for the teary cracks shattering his words.

But right now, you were striking the bullseye of Gojo’s round, coral pink divot with a hefty dump of saliva. Thumbing it right over his weeping middle and lazing your tongue tenderly all down the grooves of his veins.

You could feel him throb and buck underneath you, so turned on that you could practically taste it. 

“Gods. Fuck. Fuck, girl-” He’s spitting out through lowered lashes, watching your tongue flop out to lap ‘round and ‘round his mushroomy tip like your favorite lolly. “-like that. Just like that.”

Gojo tucks a thumb underneath the curve of your chin, prying your maw to fall open just enough so that he can tap-tap-tap his blushing, thick head on your tongue. So that he can spurt out a few more gumdrops of seed and watch them glisten all the way to your throat. 

He’s watching you with an open mouth,  “Oh yeah. Oh yeah, my girl. Now you’re gonna hah- take all of me, right?”

Your pussy twitches with interest at his words — “my girl.” And the only thing you can think to do is let your digits sift underneath his tender slit, grinning. “Make me.”

It’s all the confirmation that Gojo needs to lurch open your slobbering mouth even further and plunge his veiny cock into you. Hissing at the way your tongue drags underneath his sinking shaft, he burns red to the tips of his ears. 

“N-now now, play nice and say ‘ahhh’—” Your mouth was so hot. And it was working so many wonders on his fat cock that it was forcing him to gasp out tiny sobs. “Take me- fucking- fucking take me or god help me-”

He didn’t even know what he was saying.

Never breaking sultry eye contact, Gojo’s swabbing his cum around your plumped lips like a whitish lipstain. Fucking up feverishly, his trickling tip hits the very bottom of your throat and stays there-

“Ya like that?” He’s snarling out, perfect teeth pulled back on full display. You’re moaning into his tufted, snowy-white pubes at the sight of his glinting canines. “‘Course you do, course you do. F-fuck don’t know how many ngh- time I-I’ve imagined this. All because of you, nasty girl-”

Without warning, he’s pinching your nose together and you whine in answer. Crescents of your nails clawing down red, red lines all over his toned abs, “Alright alright- ngh- mostly because of you.”

He lets go, finally. Snickering at the steady tears that fall down your cute face. 

Fighting against his flapping lids to watch the way you’re bobbing your head in a primal cadence now. Your nose brushing up against his heated skin every time. A fat few rivers of drool find themselves glazing your lips, your chin, Gojo’s shifting pelvis in a puddle. 

He was so hot and weighty inside, and your jaw was starting to ache just from the sheer bulky fatness. Your cunt leaking - bawling - at the way his ballooned-up veins rub against the roof of your mouth up n’ down.

“You and that damn suit n’ those damn eyes a-and that-” He bucks up, up, up, core tensing sexily each time. Smashing the rounded curve of his tight balls against your chin. “-damn mouth. Now mine, all mine oh—”

Your fingers just barely graze over Gojo’s plump sack, making his precious, pinkish skin wrinkle. Making him gasp- “O-oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck-” His head snaps upwards, eyes rolling to the very backs of his head. “-c’mere. C’mere.”

Maybe it’s because of the remaining aftereffects of your mind-shattering orgasm, maybe it’s because you wanted him so bad you couldn’t think; but you’re so pliable in Gojo’s big, strong arms.

He’s bending a few degrees to scoop you up in a mess of boneless limbs, all in one go. Sitting you all pretty and struggling to balance on his slender hips– his v-shape was mouth-watering. 

And your thighs fit so perfectly snugly on either side, glissading your pussylips up and down on his cylindrical shaft. You’re riding all along his bumpy veins, head bobbing at every probing spiral that pokes past your folds. 

“Fuck me.” Gojo whispers against your throat. Reaching over languidly to rip even more of his supersuit for you, all the way down his inner thighs, his chest, everywhere. For you to ruin. “Fuh-fuck me.”

Whining, “Give it- give it t’me, Toru–”

He blushes. 

You didn’t know who was yearning for it more. 

Gojo repeatedly spanks your slippery hole with the very rounded crown of his cockhead, sandwiching himself between your bloated lips. And the sight makes him grin, the sight makes him twitch- “Open. Open wiiiide, sweetheart. Tight fuckin’ thing.”

Your knobbly knees ricket as you splay them out shamelessly, “‘Nough teasing. Want it- a-and I want it now.”

Bratty girl.

Though, he always has loved that side of you. 

And it’s exactly what makes Gojo depart his hips off of the ground in a sudden rut and fill you up to your brim. Just the plump circle of his tip mazing past your entrance enough to render you stupidly speechless. 

You swear you hear him bludgeon just the few inches of his head into your channel with a wet plop! Before your ears ring with something even louder…even wetter. 

“Fucking- shit shit shit-” You’re almost letting your mouth sing with a whimper once his gorgeous eyes shutter closed, a cute pout smearing over your face. Gojo’s shifting, he’s restless, he’s planting his feet firmly flat on the floor and bucking wildly. Through clenched teeth, “This is- all- your- fault.”

Suddenly, you’re feeling something warm and thick soaking through your walls. Slathering ribbons of liquid sloshing around your wet inners and mixing with the waves of your aroused slick. 

Did he just…? Just from putting it inside? 

And, really, you felt so heavenly inside - what was a man to do?

Your gooey walls molding around his length like molten gold, it was driving Gojo crazy until all he could do was wrap his arms around the small of your back as if you were his lifeline. Panting out cloudy breaths against your face, he stares deeply into your eyes and cums-

Your eyes flap open alertly, “T-Toru– did you just-”

“Shut up.” He’s huffing, gnawing on his wobbly lower lip like chewing gum. To shut you up, he’s shoving your face between the plummy cushions of his pecs. Grunting when your tongue comes out to suck his rose pink nipples. “I’m just- I’m- ngh–”

Just fucking his globular wads of seed until you were overspilling, is what. Pumping the bottom of your pussy so full that you’re feeling him smear sticky streaks down your cervix, the gluey-texture making your back arch for more more more-

“Can’t help that this p-pussy is so fuck- filthy.” He’s trawling out syllables from the back of his hoarse throat, a thin line of saliva leaking from one end of that fucked-out grin. Eyeing the plapping of his cum pouring in bucketloads out of you and onto his skin, “That you’re so…”

Can’t help that he’s been dreaming of this since forever. 

Gojo didn’t have to say a word, because the massive puddle formulating from between your icing-topped folds was chatty enough. Really chatty, in fact, that the man finds himself nodding away blearily with every shrill squelch! from down below. 

Humming, “Mhm— real t-talkative, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His pants puncture with a few breathless titters, watery gaze flickering between your sweaty face and where he was disappearing. Depraved. “Nicer than her, too.”

Lips falling into a partially-offended, partially-delirious oh! your brows furrow, “S-so mean. Don’t make me- ngh- don’t make me g-get off, Satoru.”

“Get off, huuuuh?” He’s drawling, hands pushing you down even further along his blushing red cock. You were so insistent and fiery, it made him so much fucking harder. And it was cute, the way you’re flinching when his tip throbs even fatter. “If you wanna ngh- tap- tap out, jus’ say so, my girl.”

“Never.” 

“Never?”

Rolling those beautiful eyes of yours, “You’d tap out first.”

Fuck yeahhhhh, he was shifting his hips just a little to make you feel how much girthier you were making him. The clingy sides of your walls snatching on the way his crownhead pulls taut, stretching your innards to the very max. “No. You.”

He doesn’t know if you even realize just how much more damp you’re getting. A syrupy wet patch already formed and growing on his v-line, dribbling down to his twitchy balls. “Scared, Nightwing?”

“I’m not even trying, sweetheart.”

And with that said, only now do you realize just how true his words are. 

Two impressive hands interlace on the crown of your sticky scalp, pushing you- bullying you down like some glorified ragdoll. 

Your thighs twitch as if you were unsure whether to clench or spread. You can feel Gojo’s sweltering hot cock squeezing and squeezing his fully proud length inside of you - you didn’t even realize that he hadn’t bottomed out yet because he was simply so big.

But when he did finally fit all the way?

God, it felt like he was drilling his split-ended tip right into your lungs. 

“There we go- thereeee we go.” Gojo breathes out thickly, and it felt like something leaden in his tummy was finally unraveling after all this time. Finally stuffed inside your pussy. “Knew you could t-take me- heh. S’biiig, isn’t it?”

Really big. 

And every shallow bounce of yours made your pulse burst near your throat, stars sparking behind your burdensome eyelids when he pinpricks tiny speckles of pre on your most favorite spots. 

“Yeah yeah- ride me.” He grapples at your scalp and pulls. “Fuckin’ ride me. S’all yours n’ I wanna see you ngh- milk it.”

“Gods- ohhhh gods.” You’re shrilling out in a strained pitch when he jerks upwards and clashes into your g-spot, your nails claw ragged lines on the carpet as if you’d just been thrown to the wolves. Stupid now. Hips jerking away from his tantalizing pace-

“No running.” Gojo spits, pained. One hand curling around your throat and dragging you down to smack the backs of your thighs against his weighty balls, the other cupping your face delicately. His long, textured tongue laps up the salty pearls of your tears with looooud slurps. “Wh-where the ngh- fuck do you think you’re going?”

You didn’t even have an answer because every possible one was being fucked out of you. Brutally. 

One sharp jab. Two. Three into your tender alcoves and you feel like collapsing, your front melting into his toned one, drool spilling out in spit-loads. 

It’s all you can do to gyrate your waist back and forth in sloppy circles to meet his pace. Looong figure eights that made Gojo’s thighs shudder, and your clit scratch his creamy happy trail. There were so many thorough inches being fed into your cunt, probing deeply. Over and over and over- 

And no matter how full you were he’d keep rutting and rutting. Like he couldn’t stop. Rotund head sagging down your cervix to leave streaks of pre and he was still pushing.

Gojo bores up at you with glazed eyes, saliva-glistening lips parted ever-so-slightly while he pounded up into you as if in a daze.

You’re swearing his dilated pupils have formed into hearts- “Mmmm– love you, my girl.” He carries out a tender kiss on your forehead, and a rough squeeze on your throat. Jostling your lolling head back and forth ever-so-slightly, to dab his digits in a seeping puddle of slick and push past your lips. “Love fucking you. Being haaaaa– fucked by you…”

It’s not often that anyone can catch Gojo Satoru off guard.

But you’re not just “anyone.”

With your honed expertise, all it takes is one jackhammered thud! into the back of your pussy - two - before you’re flipping your ravenously glissading bodies over. 

“Then f-fuck me properly, Toru.”

Maybe he heard your words through the static-y buzzing in his head, maybe he didn’t. Either way your tone makes something inside him twitch, full-bodied. 

And you don’t think Gojo even registers it beyond a stuttered ohhh–! at first, you don’t think he even realizes the way he’s immediately sprawling you out flat on your back and bending you into a rude mating press. 

Still not slowing down. Still not faltering. 

Ah, you don’t know if you’re a genius or just plain stupid. Because you still manage to yelp, “S’that- s’that it?”

As if on primal instinct, he’s letting out a growl near your mouth. “Hah- haaah– Y’know…I-I’m reeeeal flexible, my girl.” Your calves burn with exertion once he throws them unceremoniously over his shoulders, core tensing in a way you can’t help but ogle. “Real flexible.”

At first you didn’t understand why he was telling you this. At first.

Before Gojo drags his large feet up, up, up until he’s planting them where you can see - sweaty thighs lugging forwards where he’s bending you in half and then some. 

It was so cute how pliable you were underneath him, manhandled to every whim and want and need-

This brand-spanking new angle was everything. 

Thrashing into your springy cervix - hard. Stretching out deeply-seated sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. It makes you feel so fucking filthy at the sting of his papping balls bruising your ass like never before. 

And his tip is so greedy, feeling the swashing splash of his own seed dripping all over your walls and still bursting to erupt with more. He could tell he was close, aligning himself to crash into his favorite target of your g-spot. 

“Fuck–” Your mindless legs threaten to close - not that he would ever let them. “So much. Fuck me, p-please.”

“What was that?”

“Please…”

“What was that?”

“Please!”

Gojo’s hunched over, seethingly red in the face. Ivory bangs half-way covering his intensely half-lidded stare, stray spatters of perspiration hit your chest like bullets. 

“Gonna ngh- fuck you properly.” He spits, hands ghosting over your tummy - namely that globed bulge he was fucking into you. A mere nudge of it with his thumb leaves Gojo’s breath leaving his lungs in a sizzling woosh! Sculptured chest vibrating, “Gonna breed you properly. Gonna…” 

You’re flinching when fingers waft over your nubbed clit, the stark volts of electricity prompting your ass to hit back even rougher against his sharp pelvis. 

“Want it, Toru.” Wobbly arms wrapping around his flushed neck to pull him in close. He looks at you lovingly, while he fucks you like he hates you. “W-want you to ngh- breed me.”

And that does it - for the both of you.

Gojo Satoru’s breath hitches with a cry, balls achingly tight. Needy. “Gonna make you m-mine.”

Running headfirst into your highs, it hits you like a tidal wave. You don’t know where you’re seeing white from; the flurries of stars speckling your vision, or from the torrents of cum Gojo pours out past your sloppy entrance. 

“Your p-pussy–!” Gojo bursts, drilling into you as if he was crazed. Fat tip swirling around your pretty insides with decorative ribbons of pure white, his cum seeps into you thickly and you swear you can feel him well up the door to your womb. “O-ohhhh your pussy your pussy your- p-pussy, takin’ me so well.”

“Fuck me-” You tug on his pink lips with your teeth and it makes Gojo empty out another few webbed streaks of sap into the bottom of your pussy with a thud! Brows furrowing, “Deeper.” Even though he was so deep you think you might burst. “Harder.” So hard you felt raw. “More.”

You were already overspilling, the throes of your burning hot orgasm just barely letting you register the splat-splat-splat of his cum pumping in n’ out of you. 

Two of his slender fingers urgently scoop those few escaping globs back through your pussylips, Gojo’s girth so wide that he doesn’t even have to try to plug you full and tight. 

“A-all safe and sound.” He’s patting at the cumflated outline on your tummy, cylindrical and round. Your walls were so plump and tight with him that just the simplest dig had you squealing. “A-all…”

And Gojo looked like he could purr if he could. 

All fucked out and satisfied, the pussydrunken grin on his face seemed permanent - and so was that tender glint in his eye. Peeking up at you through long lashes, he leans his head over to listen to your juddering heartbeat, “All mine.”

Your tummy lurches, and you find yourself smiling before you can stop. But it’s not like you wanted to stop.

In fact, you didn’t want to stop at all. 

“That last one’s a tie.” Your voice scratches the favorite crevices of Gojo’s brain; so mushy and melted that it takes a long while before his lips drop into an understanding oh! You sweetly peck his lips, “Rematch, Nightwing?”

Fuck. 

His poor, overworked cock twitches.

Fuck. 

And of course, it was a rematch with the two of you.

Of course, the one rematch turned into two. Into three. Into four. Into- you’d lost count after five, and you were sure right now that you couldn’t even do any maths past that.

After breaking Naoya Zenin’s loveseats, after splitting his desk literally in half. Eventually, you’d either forgotten about the man himself and your fate, or you just didn’t care. You were so fucked dumb that all you can cry is a broken, “Sa-to–ru!”

Because if there was one thing that Batman taught in his rigorous training scheme, it was stamina. 

Gojo was taking you from behind right now- well, that was being generous. 

He was slumped down over you until his abs were liquefying down your arched spine, head buried deep into the clammy crook of your neck. Swirling his sensitive cock all around your tenderized insides, thighs trembling where he was pinning the both of you down onto the floor. Too sloppy and fucked to even try anywhere else.

“M’here—” Gojo drawls out, heavy tongue stumbling over the sounds. He pats the cute tummy bulge that he’s responsible for first, and then your gushing pussy. Pulling you to him, he really was acrobatic, “M’here. Toru’s h-here, my sweetheart.”

Fuck- those last two words make him jetstream out a sweltering few beads of seed. He couldn’t even cum properly anymore. 

Driving into you until every voluminous mass in his body was now packed intensely between your snug walls, he shifts inside of you with a sloooow gyration and feels the knotted mess he’s made. 

“My sweetheart–” Gojo’s biceps bulge where he’s shoving your head into the soft carpet, into the pond of saliva that just won’t stop leaking from your parted mouth. His words depart in a cracked plea, “My girl.”

“Y-yours.”

Maybe you’re cumming, maybe you’re not - you don’t even know, at this point. 

Half-lucidly aware of the faint tingles shooting up your spine, and making your temples throb. Gojo himself feels out of control, hips reeling back, back, back to slam into your jiggling ass. 

He’s pawing himself a rough handful of your fleshy mounds once he throws his head back and lets his aching shaft jolt. Straight from his drenched base, all the way to his overstimulated tip- exhausting out one bead of pre. Two. 

Before Gojo cums dry.

“O-oh.” His teeth snag near your pulse, wet splatters of tears soaking your skin. Something animalistic twinging at the back of his cottony mind at the way you literally milked him until he was dry. Despite himself, he laughs. High-pitched. Crazed. “S’a- tie- s’a tie, I went e-easy on you…”

Somehow, you’re managing a grin. “My hero~”

And Gojo was just about to open his mouth - maybe to counter back something nonsensical, maybe to ask for a rematch over n’ over until he passes out.

But what happens instead is that overly familiar metallic gate explodes open.

You have to blink away the clingy fog in your eyes in alarm, and you’re embarrassed to admit that it took longer than you thought. Dammit, he really did win that last round- ah, rematch.

Still stunned, you can barely even dredge up some semblance of dignity as a towering man in a red helmet and skin-tight black suit walks in. Past his sexy biker vest, and those muscles upon chiseled muscles, you think you see- yeah, it really is. A red Batman logo. 

Red Hood. 

A low snicker sounds from underneath his mask, swiftly being taken off to reveal a man so pretty that you feel your jaw slacken. 

He runs a hand through silky, waist-length black hair, amethyst eyes glinting with amusement and something…more as he takes in the sight. Long lashes fluttering, he lets go of a specialized machine gun you assume was used to break down your cage. “Yo, Satoru.”

“Suguru.” Gojo gruffs out in a condensed gasp, though he makes no move to stop. None at all. Still balls-deep, and rubbing his tip down your spongy cervix. “Wh-what- fuuuck, don’t squeeze like that, my girl- took ya so ngh- long?”

Red Hood- Suguru, waves his other hand airily, only then do you see the knife clutched in it. The extremely…bloodied knife. “Ah, y’know~ Had to clean up some messes. Toji wanted revenge on the Zenins, the usual family drama.” Eyes flashing, “He’ll be up once he’s done to ah…join us here.”

Oh god, was the entire Bat Family here? You get the distinct feeling that this was not just “usual family drama.”

But you can’t say a word when the other man bores his piercing gaze onto you next. Tone smooth and syrupy, “So…Prowler, I’m assuming, by the ripped up costume?”

You feel your skin heat. “The one and only.”

“Geto Suguru, gorgeous.” He pulls out a tiny spherical gadget that looked exactly like the one Gojo had been toying with hours- days? ago. “I already know your name, Toji and I heard it over and over. Which, by the way, you should remind that idiot Satoru to turn his microphone off.”

Ah, that explains a lot. And wait- it was on this whole time? 

Shit. 

While Gojo only huffs out a pant of laughter, planting yet another deep jackhammer into you, you feel the apologies bubble to your lips. That is, until- 

“Unless you want someone to feel…” Geto licks his lips slooowly, bangs swooning over his sleazy gaze. You watch with widened eyes as a hand falls to his bulky belt, carnally. “-left out.”

A/N. Mhm what happens when ya let a girl listen to Nightcrawler.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[gojoest]

ENTANGLED ━━━ chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x zenin f! reader

series masterlist┊next chapter

synopsis: you — the daughter of zenin naobito (the head of the zenin clan), born with no cursed energy and therefore deemed to be the disgrace of the clan — have only one dream. to escape from your own blood that’s rejected you ever since birth, even if it means you have to dirty your hands in the process. when simply running away is not an option, for they would indubitably find you and drag you back for worse, you find your getaway in the arms of an enemy clan  

warnings: MDNI, canon divergent, non-linear narrative (a lot of jumping back and forth between past & present, it’s indicated accordingly), female reader, she/her pronouns, reader is a zenin born without cursed energy, discrimination, abuse and bullying during childhood (she gets the toji treatment :/), brief mention of direct maternal death (regarding reader’s mother), childhood friends that fall out but come together, marriage of convenience (but with a twist), eloping, pining, kind of slow burn ngl, ijichi, shoko, geto, naoya + naobito cameo, mentions of food and alcohol, terms of endearment (calls you miss zenin, bride-o-mine, then mrs gojo later on + sweetheart <- so do you but with a lot of sarcasm behind it), sexual tension, male masturbation, although it’s left vague there’s some elements of incestuous behaviors on naoya’s end, wc: 9.3k

chapter one guideline & timeline:

I. The News — takes place in the present time.

II. The Proposal — two weeks prior to The News.

III. Sealing The Deal — two days after The News.

IV. The Past — flashback to the past, mainly from reader’s pov. this part is to be continued in chapter two, from satoru’s pov.

V. The First Night — after Sealing The Deal.

VI. Bad Faith — the day after The First Night.

The News 

Nobody could ever predict what Gojo Satoru was up to, except for one specific behavioral aspect of his — those who’ve spent a fair amount of time around him could easily figure that whatever it was on that man’s mind, it was, without any doubt, unorthodox and crazy. 

Yet every now and then, Gojo Satoru managed to outdo himself and exceed even their wildest expectations. This time — by dropping a bomb nobody saw coming, especially not from him.  

“Gojo-san, there’s an upcoming mission assigned to your students, and you are to supervise them throughout it”, Ijichi hands a document regarding the occasion, but his arms hang in the air as the blindfolded man is absorbed in a rather peculiar activity, patently unwilling to receive the papers. 

“Eeeh”, Satoru drags out a displeased whine, without even bothering to look at Ijichi. Currently seated and mindlessly spinning around in a swivel chair that he rummaged out earlier that day from one of the storage units in Jujutsu High and dragged into the classroom for god knows why. His entire attention focused on keeping his long legs up in the air as he spins as fast as he can without possibly breaking the chair, but still, he shows some semblance of interest. “When? Where? What’s it about?”, the words spoken in slow monotone. 

If you look at the papers, you might know the answer to all these, Gojo-san. Ijichi thinks to himself but, of course, doesn’t dare say it out loud. “It’s in two days from now, the location is—” 

“Stop right there”, Satoru cuts him off, ceasing his childish ministrations with his feet landing a heavy stomp on the floor. He slowly gets up. “In two days?”, he rubs his chin, thinking, “I am afraid, I can’t. I am getting married then” 

Of course, you are. Ijichi thinks in an internal monologue. 

“With all due respect, Gojo-san”, he clears his throat to push back the laughter that’s about to climb up and out his throat. “You could’ve come up with a better excuse than this to, umm—”, after fixing his glasses, he continues, “—ditch your duties” 

“That was not an excuse, Ijichi, nor was it a joke. I can’t believe you think so lowly of me as a teacher”  

For a second there, the evident seriousness in his voice sends a shiver down Ijichi’s spine, which, to be honest, is not entirely caused by the way Gojo spoke to him, but also what he spoke of just now.  “I really am getting married”, he repeats. 

“Oh?”, Ijichi’s eyes widen, unable to utter another word other than an exclamation while processing the credibility of his words. This man is not joking? This man, of all men, is getting married? For real? 

“To be more precise — in two days from now, I will be busy kidnapping this bride-o-mine” 

“Oh?!”, still speechless, another gasp leaves Ijishi’s mouth. “You’re eloping?”  

“That is correct, ten points for you Ijichi!”, Satoru claps his hands. “Keep this a secret for the time being. I know it's a matter of time for everyone to know, but I'd rather they found out after it’s official since prying eyes might get in our way and spoil our plans. Got it?” 

Ijichi only nods in return. 

“Good. As for the mission — let Nanami handle it in my stead, the students will be fine as long as he’s with them” 

After Satoru left, excusing himself with a “oh, so many things to do before the big day, you know?” spoken with his trademark silly chuckle, Ijichi stood there in the empty classroom for a while, frozen. Shocked to his core still, but now also curious. Who was that woman to make Gojo Satoru want to marry her? 

The Proposal 

(two weeks ago) 

“To say I was surprised to get a call from you would be an understatement, Miss Zenin”, Satoru grinned at you, taking off his sunglasses immediately upon your arrival and placing them on the table. 

It’s not that you were late — he was simply early, something quite bizarre for him honestly. Already ordered drinks for the both of you and waiting for you to show up with his legs crossed and fingers nervously tapping on the table — again, being nervous was something quite unusual for him as well. 

“And to ask me to meet you here of all places—”, he sprawled out on the chair, leaning his back against the wooden splat, his long legs reaching the other side of the table from beneath and pushing the chair there with his feet to invite you to sit. He was being a gentleman in his own way, to which you rolled your eyes but made no remark. “Are you going to ask me to kill someone for you?”, a mocking chuckle escaped his lips after he finished his sentence. 

“Not necessarily”, you replied, unamused.  

The day before, you called him. Asking to meet you here, in this secluded spot disguised as a cafe which regular people avoided, since it was a place swarmed by dangerous individuals and illegal activities. Drugs, kidnapping, assassination — whatever shady dealing you could think of. It had to be this place, after all there was no way for a Zenin to meet a Gojo out in the open, considering the bad blood between the two clans since generations ago. Especially not the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the clan head, and Gojo Satoru, the pride and leader of the Gojo clan. It would’ve caused consequences, for you at least. 

“You’ve got some balls to come here alone though, I must admit. As intriguing as always”, Satoru scoffed. “I don’t remember the last time I sat this close to you. Not since we were kids”, his lips slightly curved into a nostalgic smile as he reminisced about old times. “Now you avoid me anywhere you see me, like I’m some sort of disease”, and the smile shifted back to a regular one, although you could tell it was forced, just to keep his usual nonchalant appearance. “Not that we meet outside of clans’ gatherings, but still—” 

“Can we skip the yapping and cut to the chase? I don’t have much time”, you interrupted. “Sure, Miss Zenin”, he shot back. 

Miss Zenin. The way he called you that annoyed you abysmally, and that probably was his intention all along. But you had to ignore it for now, you really didn’t have much time on your hands — you had to go back home before anyone would notice you weren’t around. 

“I have a favor to ask, actually — it’s more of a proposal” 

 “Listening”, his head tilting to the side, eyes locked on your lips, awaiting the words. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Silence. 

It took him a few seconds before he could speak, pondering in his head whether he heard you right. Eventually the only word he could utter was “What?”, to which you said nothing. You figured it was best to give him some time to process the information.  

“What’s the catch?”, he spoke again, eyes now squinting. 

“Glad you asked”, you gave him a knowing smile. 

“Of course. I would say it’s a joke but no way you’d call me out of the blue just to pull my leg” 

“True, it isn’t a joke” 

“I believe it’s not out of love either? Unless... I am wrong? Have you been harboring such strong feelings towards me all these years?”, his tone slowly transitioning back into mocking after the initial shock had faded. 

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “You wish. See, that would only happen in your dreams” 

Laughing, he slowly shifted in his seat. Leaning his body forward to rest an elbow on the table and press a cheek against his palm, his other hand playing with the straw of his drink. “So, you want out of the clan, huh? And finally have the courage to do it” 

“You figured?” 

“Well, I grasp things quickly. Considering how the Zenins treat women and especially those born without cursed energy, like yourself, this wasn’t hard to predict. But I am surprised by the choice of your method” 

“And I am surprised you didn’t cut me out by now since this was a shot in the dark”, you eyed him, baffled but pleasantly. 

“Let’s say I am intrigued by your proposal, which turned out to be quite unromantic, but I'll look past it”, a mystifying grin splattered on his lips. "Also, as you already know, there’s a Zenin or two I am willing to help”, he laughed. “So, tell me — what’s in that beautiful head of yours?” 

"Well, as you already guessed — I want to leave the clan. Being a Zenin is not for me, never has been. I’ve been treated like an abomination all my life, looked down upon like I barely fit the criteria to be human in their eyes just because I was not gifted with abilities, and I am done with it”, you paused, trying to hold back the cracking of your voice. All the years of mistreatment washing over you as you spoke. You took a deep breath, “Simply running away is not an option, they will find me and drag me back for worse. You know it. But if you help me—” 

“—their hands will be tied”, he finished your sentence.  

You nodded. “They can’t go against you. Well, there might be a slight commotion, namely coming from my brother, Naoya. But he won’t do anything brash without father’s approval” 

“That lousy brat? I didn’t know the two of you were so close”, Satoru lifted an eyebrow, a bit bothered by this. 

“We’re not, but it’s complicated” 

He got the message — you did not wish to talk about it. And he’d let it slide. For now. “And you think you’ll be free once you become a Gojo?” 

“Not immediately, but eventually — yes. I don’t plan on staying by your side until death do us part, you know” 

“What an eventful meeting this turned out to be — first I get a marriage proposal, and now a divorce, all at once”, he laughed, covering his eyes with a hand. Perhaps to hide something in them that didn’t quite align with his laughter. “What if I get attached and refuse to let you go?”, he spoke, with a tone more serious that it took you aback a bit. “Have you considered this?” 

“Are you a comedian now?”, you brushed it off. “We both know such thing won’t happen” 

“How come you’re so sure?” 

“It’s happened before, you know it” 

“We were kids back then”, he smiled softly, with a sprinkle of regret on his lips. “We used to sneak out to spend time together, but things are different now” 

“But you stopped coming” 

“My training got more intense, didn’t have time for games anymore” 

“You bet. I know you did it to keep me out of trouble. You were aware I was getting scolded and punished for meeting you” 

“Oh?”, he gasped. “You knew?”, a powerless laughter followed the realization that all these years you didn’t just avoid him out of spite. Part of him felt at ease about it, that you always understood him, even without words. Just like back then. Maybe because you were both a mutation of a different breed — a special boy put on a pedestal by many, a monster if you will; and a nonspecial girl looked down upon by her own blood as a disappointment, barely a human — yet the loneliness you carried weighed the same on your hearts. 

“Yea”, you sighed. “Back then you did it to keep me out of trouble, now you’ll do it to get me out of one. When the time comes, we’ll separate but keep it a secret. If my clan finds out, they won’t let it slide. I’ll show up for gatherings every now and then, to dodge any possible suspicions, but that’s all. Treat this like a deal” 

“That’s all good, but deals require an equivalent exchange so both parties benefit from it. You get your freedom. But what about me — what do I get in return?” 

Your lips curved into a scarce smile, delighted that he was willing to negotiate. This could actually work, you thought. “Well, it’s not like your family will be very pleased to have me but still. The most important thing is, you won’t ever have to deal with the blind dates your clan sets you up on, with an arranged marriage in mind. I bet they’re nagging you about it constantly since you’re pretty much of age now” 

“What my clan is concerned about is an heir, marriage is just a stepping stone. How will this temporary thing between us do that? Temporary and fake on top of that?”, he questioned through a scorn. 

“I’ll give you a child”, you shot at him in a heartbeat, voice unwavering. This was part of the plan after all. 

“What?”, he laughed, tilting his head in pure astonishment at your offer. 

“We will lead a normal married life, like a proper wife and husband. I’ll have your child, this secures me even better. That way I’ll be tied to the Gojo clan forever, not the Zenin” 

“You’re aware what we need to do in order for you to have my child, right?” 

You were, but when he put it like that your face got hot against your will, heat burning your cheeks and sizzling on your ears. “I am”, you mumbled, unable to look him in the face. Petrified to meet his gaze. 

“You really are insane”, he covered his face with both hands. Perhaps he was petrified, too. 

“Coming from you that’s rather concerning. Now back to the point — you up for it?” 

“Alright. Let’s do it” 

Sealing The Deal 

(back to present) 

For the past two days Satoru pulled all the strings possible in order to speed up the marriage procedure. He diligently prepared all the needed documents to officially register your matrimony. All that was left was to go to the ward office and submit the marriage application after signing it along with two witnesses. 

With that, today would mark your last day as a Zenin. 

“Do you know who the girl is?”, Shoko asks, leaning against the wall in the ward office hallways, waiting for Satoru and the mystery bride to arrive. 

Geto shrugs from next to her, “Nope, no clue. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is happening — he is actually getting married” 

“You of all people didn’t know he was involved with someone?”, she scoffs, turning her head in his direction. “Strange, maybe he was hiding the love of his life from you so you wouldn’t snatch her away” 

“He wasn’t involved with anyone, if he was — we both would’ve known. Besides, what do you mean by that? I would never break the bro code, come on” 

A semblance of a lazy laugh slips through Shoko’s lips. One can tell she didn’t get much sleep (again) by how lethargic and unenthusiastic her reactions were. “Girls end up falling for you always, so maybe he chickened out to introduce her” 

“That’s because he sucks with girls”, Geto snorts.  

Satoru wasn’t exactly the sweep-you-off-your-feet type of guy. His looks were bewitching, that was a given, and women would latch on him, only to give up shortly after. And all the reviews were unanimous — I want someone that will put me first, but with him — I don’t see it ever happening, his mind is elsewhere.  

“Maybe he finally caved in after years of his family pestering him to get married”, Shoko throws another guess. 

“Satoru caving in to an arranged marriage? Seriously, Shoko... Does he look like the type to listen to what elders tell him to do?” 

“He never looked like the marrying type either, yet here we are” 

“I don’t know”, Geto sighs heavily. “This is way too odd” 

“Hey, hey~”, Satoru’s voice echoes through the hallways. “Sorry to keep you waiting, my bride was barely able to sneak out from the Zenins. You know how the old farts there are” 

Hearing the name Zenin, Shoko and Geto glance at each other with the same perplexed look in their eyes. A Zenin? Sneaking out? 

Forcing a somewhat adequate smile, you shake their hands. You could tell they were taken aback after hearing your name, it was written all over their faces that they didn’t quite endorse this insane whim of Satoru’s. 

“Satoru, can I have a quick word with you”, Geto pulls him to the side after giving you a polite smile as a form of apology. 

“Are you eloping?”, he whispers, although quite audibly, “With a Zenin? Have you actually lost your mind, Satoru?” 

“Suguru”, Satoru lazily drapes an arm over Geto’s shoulder, “Yes to your first question, as for the second — have you ever seen me be normal about anything?”, he laughs. 

“Not the right time to humor your misery, Satoru”, Geto says through gritted teeth all while forcing a smile looking your way, to avoid any awkward impression on your end that the two of them were talking about you (even though that’s exactly what was going on). “There’s existent animosity between your clans already, are you trying to start an actual war all over again?”, he snaps, giving a sharp nudge to his side. 

“Ouch~”, Satoru yelps. “Come on, Suguru. What can they do to me?”, his words brimming with confidence compel Geto to rub the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Do you remember, that one time on the rooftop back when we were still students in Jujutsu High, I told you about a girl from my childhood?”, Satoru continues. 

Geto nods. He does remember it vividly, after all it was the first and last time Satoru has ever talked about a girl of his own accord and with so much passion behind his voice. 

“That’s her.” 

“It’s our turn”, Shoko interrupts. “Let’s go get you married” 

As you all entered the hall, Suguru gave Satoru a soft pat on the back and glanced over his shoulder at Shoko with a validating nod. 

Satoru got a pass from his moral compass. 

-- 

Signatures were inked, rings were exchanged, and vows were made to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part. 

It is said that vows are crucial in a marriage, they set the tone for your relationship going forward and serve as a ground to build your values on. Whatever values could be built on a soil soaked with lies, you thought to yourself as you all walked out. As soon as the ceremony was over Shoko rushed out to get the dose of nicotine her body was yearning for the entire time inside the ward office, leaving you three behind. 

There was nothing holy about your union, it was a lie to begin with. And, naturally, so were your vows. It shouldn’t bother you this much that you were to break the fake promises you just made to the man that handed you a one-way ticket to your freedom. 

“What’s with the face, Mrs. Gojo?”, Satoru softly pokes you in the arm, the unease in your expression doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “We just tied the knot, yet you look like you just walked out of a funeral” 

A funeral. Right. That’s how it felt to you. 

You buried yourself, your past, in there. You got what you wanted, but part of you was terrified of the new person you were to become. Mrs. Gojo, huh? You were not in the right headspace to be snarky about it now. 

“I’m fine. All these formalities are draining, that’s all” 

“Then we’ve got to recharge”, he grins, then turns around and shouts at Geto who’s walking a few steps behind and scrolling on his phone, “Suguruuu, let’s celebrate, shall we?” 

“Geez, you’re loud, Satoruuu”, he cracks an irked grimace, sticking a pinky finger into his ear. 

“There’s no need for that”, you whisper, tugging at the hem of his shirt.  

Satoru’s fingers trace over your knuckles, hesitant to get a proper hold of your hand, but he gives in anyway, “We have to pretend there is”, he speaks in a low voice, and wraps his hand around yours. “Besides, it’s lunchtime. We need to eat” 

You don’t resist, neither his touch nor his words.  

On your way to the restaurant that your (now) husband made a quick call to reserve a table for four, Satoru sat on the driver’s seat — a rare occasion, usually Ijichi drives him everywhere — glancing at you beside him on the passenger seat at every opportunity, studying your features and how much they’ve changed compared to his childhood memories of you. It’s not like he never saw you after that. But you’d never let him take a good long look at you, always running away the moment you noticed him around. Before he could know it, he was smiling, mouth agape — a soundless “ha” passing through the crack of his lips, the sunlight hitting his eyes, yet he couldn’t blink — he had to take you in. He was back to being a child at that moment, wearing his genuine feelings on his face without knowing how to mask them. And you... you were even prettier now. 

The two sitting on the backseat exchanged an astounded look after observing the scene unfolding before their eyes. Who would’ve guessed that their friend had such a hidden, soft spot for someone and could make such genuine faces? 

The Past 

You were born with bad luck. 

That’s what you told yourself. And that’s what others, who felt sorry for you, thought so too. Mostly those unfortunate enough to be servants in the Zenin clan that have witnessed way too many things happen to you. 

First, you were born into the Zenin Clan as the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the leader — that alone was the biggest mishap the heavens bestowed you with. A problematic clan with questionable values, where owning powerful cursed techniques was held in highest regard and considered the measure of your worth as an individual and whether you were fit to be a Zenin. Rejecting, without an ounce of remorse, their own flesh and blood and looking down at them like inferior beings did they deem their ability weak and unworthy. 

With that being said, here comes the second — you were born into that clan, with no cursed energy. You didn’t make the cut ever since the beginning. The clan didn’t even mourn the fact you were lacking, they simply treated you indifferently, and sometimes with disgust, like you were one of the servants — easily replaceable. “It’s not enough that you were born a girl, but you are also lacking the gift. You were never meant to be part of this family to begin with, the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”, your grandmother would often tell you, right before throwing you into the disciplinary pit with curses. Till then, maybe through some miracle you could manifest some cursed energy if she locked you up there for long enough, so you could be at least a little bit useful. 

Wait. There’s a third, too — your mother lost her life giving birth to you. It’s not like you felt any guilt for that, you never knew what parental love was anyway, therefore didn't see it as a burden that weighed on your conscience. In fact, you were partly relieved that there was one person less to mistreat you there. 

Your older brother, Zenin Naoya, would often use this to harass you. Telling you “Maybe you’re not that hopeless after all, since you killed mother. Or maybe that’s even worse — she’s going to be your only kill” with that revolting laugh of his.  

Other kids looked down on you too, avoiding you like you carried some disease. There were rumors even, how childish, now what you think back — that if you came closer to them, you’d rid them of their powers and of their mothers too. Oddly enough, those rumors were started by none other than your brother. Perhaps he wanted to be the only one to pick on you. While he made every woman walk three paces behind him, he’d keep you close, telling you in a condescending manner “How am I to look down on you if you keep walking behind me, little lamb?” 

And you truly were a little lamb. Living and growing only to get the life in you eaten away by the Zenins. A sacrifice for no good. 

But the summer of your sixth year was different. 

You met a boy. 

He looked like winter in the middle of summer. Snow-white hair falling over his face and likewise lashes, sitting like tender snowflakes on his eyelids. The bluest blue in his eyes you had ever seen in your life, and if you stared long enough it’d throw you into a trance. 

There was a sense of loneliness to him akin to winter too. 

How when the cold months came around, people would spend less time outside and instead run to their homes to warm up in front of the fireplace. He was the winter people were hiding from. 

And you figured, you had heard of him. He was the special boy of the Gojo Clan, the first in centuries to inherit both The Limitless and The Six Eyes, whose birth alone shifted the power balance in the world, who had a bounty over his head at such a young age for being a force too great to be kept alive. 

He was the complete opposite of you, yet somehow the same as you. One rejected for being too much, and the other — for not being enough. Both were similarly exhausting, arduous, and lonely. 

You first met during a clans’ gathering. The big three brought together under one roof to discuss some matters you can’t quite recall now, just like you don’t remember the reason you were brought along. Perhaps to carry stuff around, like you always did. 

An exchange of shy glances as you waited outside, sitting on the wooden engawa (veranda) led you both slowly scooching over closer to one another, until the gap between you was small enough that you could see how his heartbeat made the collar of his kimono flutter ever so slightly. 

“Is it sweet?”, the boy pointed at the popsicle in your hand. “It is”, you answered along with a nod. Bringing it up to his mouth — “Want some?” — you invited him to take a bite as he looked at you with uncertain eyes. A blush painting a beautiful cherry hue on the pale complexion of his cheeks. He nibbled on the side of it — “It is!” — his eyes grew wide, a glow in them. 

“You’ve never had one? — surprise in you voice. “Of course, I have”, he lied, scratching the back of his head, a bit embarrassed of possibly seeming uncool in your eyes. 

He had a strict regime when it came to the food he consumed. Whatever he put into his mouth had to be of great value and nutrition, diligently prepared by the best chefs, so his body, or as others saw it — the shell where a god resided in — would grow healthy and strong to be on par with his powers. 

It was the first time you shared food with someone else. You usually ate alone, disgusted by the Zenins surrounding you around the table that your throat felt too tight to swallow anything that you put in your mouth, be it water even. 

And it was the first friend you ever made. While everyone up until now turned a blind eye and avoided you, he didn’t run. He even stayed. 

Introducing himself as “Satoru" only, he deliberately refrained from saying his full name at first. When you never pushed him to reveal it, he turned a bit fidgety. 

“You never asked about my last name” — lips slightly pursed, the muscles on his face fighting off a pout but failing eventually. “Maybe I’m not that interested in you” — tilting your head, you teased, yet — “Just kidding, I know who you are” — you quickly added upon seeing his brows knitting in dejection. “But you can be just Satoru with me” 

From that day onward you’d meet in secret every now and then, whenever both of you could manage to sneak out. For just a little bit. To eat popsicles and other sweet things together. 

That was, until your brother found out. 

Naoya always kept tabs on you after all. You were a prey to him, and chasing you was like a game. It was only a matter of time before he knew. Or perhaps he did already but let you sneak out on purpose so he could use it to his avail and torment you further. 

Naturally, the time you spent with Satoru fell shorter compared to that spent in the disciplinary pit. “That’s to teach you a lesson, little lamb”, Naoya would say with a twisted look in his eyes as he locked you up in there. 

At times like this, you’d remember your grandmother’s words — “the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”. 

...and an idea brewed in your mind. 

If you could run away right now, you would. But where would you go? What would you do? You were only six. If your own flesh and blood was this cruel to you, how could you expect the outside world to treat you any better? 

You were not that naive. You knew you had to wait. 

You endured the endless hours that felt like days and weeks in that pit, surviving by pure miracle every time. Or was it hope that kept you fighting? Because you knew, by the end of it, as long as you were alive, you’d find a way to meet your friend, the only one you had. And maybe he could save you one day. Maybe, tomorrow you could make a promise to each other — that when the time came and you were both of age, you would take his last name and be freed of the curse you were born with. 

...but Satoru never showed up. 

(to be continued) 

The First Night 

(back to present) 

It was getting late. You spent more time than originally planned at lunch with Shoko and Geto as everyone had already cleared out their schedules for the day to join you on your escapade. 

You thought at first, that the entire time you would have to dodge questions such as How did this happen? When did you start seeing each other? When did you decide it was time? Who proposed? How? Doesn’t the animosity between your clans worry you? Have you considered the consequences even? Are you perhaps pregnant? Is this why all the rush is for?, etc...  

But that never happened. Neither of them pried, nor made you uncomfortable invading your personal space. In fact, they made you loosen up a bit by being warm and friendly, already treating you like one of them, mocking Gojo’s constant mischiefs in front of you. The setting resembled that of a parent-teacher meeting where you were in the role of the parent, and they were the teachers complaining to you about Gojo. It was a rather humbling experience for the whitehaired man who sat there pouting and subtly gesturing for them to cut it.  

But when he heard you laughing at their stories, he ceased. Sucking it up, he let them continue playfully bashing him. He had really missed your laugh. 

“So~ we’re here — welcome to your new home”, Satoru points at the huge mansion after helping you hop out of the car. One of the bodyguards in the yard immediately took the keys from his hand and drove the car away to park it in the garage area. 

To say this thing before your eyes was huge would be an understatement actually. After you quickly scanned the place you noticed there were a few more houses built around the mansion, and perhaps even behind it.  

The Gojo household was located in a huge, fenced area with a single front entrance, for security purposes (so it would always be known who walked in and out under meticulous surveillance), leading to a big yard with a well-kept garden befitting the Gojo Clan. The first house in front, and the biggest, was the main mansion — inhabited by Satoru’s parents and grandparents (from his father’s side), while extended family (like aunts, uncles, cousins — basically the most important members of the clan) resided in the ones around it. 

Satoru, despite being the clan head, did not live in the main mansion. His place was relatively isolated from the rest (ironically resembling the life he led and the powers he had), situated far behind all the houses, right before a path that led to a forest-like area as part of the Gojo property. 

“No way”, you gasp — “Don’t tell me you live with your entire clan?” — as you quickly pad forward, leaving him a few steps behind, to further inspect the place. 

“Not technically but yea, we stick together — clan traditions deem it this way”, he sighs. 

“Never took you as the tradition following guy, to be honest” 

He chuckles, “What can I say — I am full of surprises~ But truthfully, as the clan head I can’t just up and leave, you know? Besides...” — a pause, observing you as your eyes roam around studying the place, head turning from one side to the other in astonishment. Then his gaze shifts to his left hand. Lifting it slightly and spreading his fingers to look at his ring, and then back at you. “...sometimes deeply rooted habits are hard to break. Especially if one holds onto them for too long. It’s hard to let go no matter what kind of person you are” 

“There’s something even beyond you, Gojo Satoru?”, your voice almost mocking but somehow lacking the right tone to it, too distracted by your surroundings. 

He laughs, “Maybe. Just one little thing only” — words mumbled under his breath, too soundless for your ears to catch on. 

-- 

After you made it in, he gave you a full tour around the house. Walking you through each and every room, thoroughly explaining where things were and how you could touch up anything you desired and change it to your liking — this was now your home, too.   

The last stop was the bedroom.  

“Should I carry you in bridal style? That’s how newlyweds do it~”, Satoru smirks at you, arms crossed around his waist, his side leaning against the doorframe. 

You were about to make a face there for a second and give him an eyeroll, maybe even pick on him for watching way too many romcoms, but you held back. 

“Sure, why not”, you mumble instead, looking down. 

After all, before you was the room where certain things were to happen in, according to your deal, and you thought it’s best to let him indulge in this play pretend and carry you in as your feet were frozen in their tracks anyway. Nervous of what was ahead, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 

“Oh?” — caught off guard, not expecting you to actually go along with it, he gasps, but then — “Right?” — quickly plays it cool. “Alright, bride-o-mine, here we go” 

Charging towards you with a slow step, he leans down so your eyes are on equal level, face an inch away from yours. So close that, as he cracks his lips open to swipe a tongue across them his hot breath feels like steam against your skin. Licking his lips, a habit you were painfully familiar with, it was something he did when he got nervous that seemingly didn’t change from when he was little. 

He scoops you up effortlessly, holding you tight but tenderly at the same time. His fingers clutching firmly around you yet at the same time careful enough to not bruise you.  “Almost there”, he pushes the creaked door open with his foot and carries you in through the doorway. 

Flustered, you turn your head the other way in an attempt to hide the heat eliciting from your face. You were way too close. His scent invading your nostrils, you could almost distinguish his natural body odor from his perfume. 

“Oh, my... If you shy away this easily”, he carefully sits you on the bed — “how are we to make that baby~ Hm?” — and smugly smirks as he plops down next to you right after, his knee scarcely brushing against your leg.  

“Tch...”, you click your tongue, heat still spreading like fire on your cheeks, and even far up to your ears. “Didn’t know you wanted to bed me right away?” — is he really going to jump on you now? Why bring up the baby talk otherwise... 

He gasps in an overexaggerated manner, gluing fingertips to his mouth, “Thought I could give you some time to adjust, but if you insist...” 

“Ugh, Gojo”, you aim a reflex eyeroll his way. 

“What now, are you talking to yourself?” 

“Excuse me?”, you lift a brow. 

“You’re a Gojo too now, you know?”, a grin on his lips, the kind he makes when he’s about to win something. “When you refer to me, you have to say my first name — Sa-to-ru — to avoid any confusion~” 

See, that was his goal all along — to make you call him by name, just like in the past. 

...but two can play this game. You had no intention of losing this battle to him. 

“Sweetheart”, your tone overly delicate on purpose, as you tilt your head, cheek pressing against your shoulder. “Isn’t this better?”, you flutter your lashes at him. 

His reaction comes slow. The full grin from a second ago is now a half, the other half — a surprise, with a sprinkle of a new, unknown to you glint in his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, sweetheart”, he breathes, scooching closer to you. An arm finding its way around your waist, wrapping itself from the small of your back all the way front, hand stopping at your navel. 

A flinch shudders through your body, but he’s got you still, you can’t pull away. “What happened to giving me time to adjust?”, you mutter, not as feisty anymore. This was a side you haven’t seen to him, which you figured was natural. You knew him as a kid, now — he was a man. And like all men do, he was acting on his urges. 

“You push my buttons”, he’s leaning closer, and closer, and closer, until your noses are brushing and breaths are exchanging. His free hand rolling up and tucking the few strands of hair falling on your face behind your ear, then slowly sliding to the back of your neck. “Trying to get me excited?” 

“If a mere endearment excites you this much, what will become of you when I say your name?” 

He laughs, his breath infesting your mouth. Lips accidentally grazing yours from the action itself, which draws a low, helpless hum out of him. “Care to find out?” 

You jolt — something about the way he was looking at you told you this wasn’t just some simple teasing — and finally bring your hands to use and push him away and get up. “I need a shower” 

“Ah, got all hot and bothered? It’s okay, I am used to it — I have this type of effect on women all the time~”, he chuckles, earning yet another eyeroll from you. Reaching behind to grab a pillow and sit it on his lap, subtly hiding the fact that he got all hot and bothered, too. “You know where the bathroom is, sweetheart” 

He won this round. 

-- 

Satoru is still sitting in the bed, back relaxed against the headboard with one foot thrown over the other on the mattress, as you make your way out of the bathroom. You smell like him now, he thinks — only natural after having to use his shower gel and shampoo — as your freshly showered self approaches the side of the bed your pajamas were carefully folded and placed at. He took it upon himself to buy them for you, along with some clothes, and shoes, and bags, since you couldn’t pack and take anything with you. 

“Can you, umm”, you fidget, “turn around or something? I want to get dressed” 

“There you go again, shying away from your own husband”, he smugly teases. 

“Oh, you want to watch so bad? How perverse of you, sweetheart”, you mock, loosening the belt of your bathrobe so the fabric covering your shoulders slides down a bit, revealing more of your flesh. 

There’s a good chance for this reverse psychology to backfire now, you think, but you just couldn’t make peace with him picking on you like that. 

He shifts in his place, now sitting up on the opposite side, legs touching the ground and his back turned against you. The transition was so quick and instinctive as if he, by sheer luck, dodged a bullet aimed to take his life. “I’d love to stay for the show but, you see...”, he rubs the back of his neck, “I need to check the report regarding my students’ mission from today” 

“I see”, a victorious smirk on your lips as you watch him walk away. 

This round was yours. Now you were even. 

-- 

You were going to be trouble. 

The report was, of course, an excuse. He had to make it out of the room, or he would’ve done something terrible to you. 

His face burning hot as he quickly stripped himself of his clothes in one of the guest rooms downstairs and went straight into the bathroom to cool off. An aching pulse on his groin dragging inaudible curses from his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

A stream of ice-cold water hitting his face, hugging his shoulders, cascading down the rest of his well-built body before washing down into the drain. He stands there still and completely unaffected by the temperature. He was burning inside. 

Eyes shut, he thinks about you — about the way that bathrobe loosely enveloped your frame, about the gap temptingly revealing bits of your cleavage, leaving little to the imagination... about sliding his hands down into that very gap and pushing it open, taking the fabric covering your shoulders in his hands and pulling it down your arms to expose your breasts... about clasping both of your wrists behind the small of your back while his other hand moves to the side of your face and holds your chin before kissing you hungrily... then moving to your jawbone, and then lower, and lower... and lower, kissing and nibbling until he reaches your nipples, and then further below... 

His hand relentlessly stroking his cock to the visual of you in his imagination. Part of him absolutely disgusted by what he was doing right now, thinking how he was tainting the innocent girl from his memories. But then another, the one he couldn’t suppress — shamelessly trying to picture even beyond, making up in his mind what he thought your sweet expressions and obscene sounds would be like under his touch.  

His balls tighten up to him as he pumps himself from base to head with firm strokes, low growls rising from his throat echo through the walls the faster his hand works up and down his shaft. 

The tension soon leaves his body, his cum oozing out from between his fingers and spraying all over the bathroom tiles.  

Oh, you were going to be trouble for sure... 

-- 

“What puzzles me though, is that nobody has called you all day”, he walks into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. “In all honesty, it’s been bugging me for a while now”, a hand brushes back his damp hair. 

“They think I’m staying over at a friend’s place”, trying to ignore the view before you, you avert your gaze from him and his ridiculously lean body and well sculpted six pack that looked way too perfect to be real. He probably came here half naked, on purpose, to get back at you for earlier... Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing — you kept internally repeating to yourself. Play it cool. 

“And they let you?”, he casually saunters over to you, his hand reaching behind you to grab a hold of his nightwear sitting on his pillow. Seriously? He had to walk all the way to your side only to reach for the pajamas placed on his? What a sore loser... 

“Mhm”, you hum, lips tight and eyes looking down at your lap, “I managed to convince father. The odds were in our favor, I guess? — But I have to pay them a visit tomorrow, to deliver the news” 

“We will pay them a visit”, he corrects you. “I’m coming with you” 

“You don’t have to” 

“But I want to”, he insists, his resolve is solid. 

“Okay”, you don’t resist any further. “What about your family? When are we telling them?” 

He makes his way to the bathroom inside the room, while still speaking to you from over there. At least he’s not as shameless to get dressed in front of you.  

“They’re easy, I’ll talk to them some time tomorrow. Might organize a little thing to introduce my wife properly, heheh” 

“How do you think they’ll take the news? I mean, I know they won’t endorse it but — on a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it will be?” 

“What does it matter when it’s fait accompli? Besides, they can’t go against my decisions, so”, he shrugs after making it back, fully dressed now. Thanks god. But wait... 

“Did you seriously get us matching pajamas?”, you look him up. He was wearing the exact same pair in blue, while yours was a light shade of pink. 

“Yea?”, he emits a dorky snicker. “Don’t you think it’s cute?” 

“Ew, cringe”, you fight back a snort. 

What a truly bothersome man... 

Bad Faith 

— (n.) dishonest behavior with the intention of deceiving someone. “bad faith” refers to dishonesty or fraud in a transaction. depending on the exact setting, bad faith may mean a dishonest belief or purpose, untrustworthy performance of duties, neglect of fair dealing standards, or a fraudulent intent 

You slept well for once in your life, despite being in a new place, a new bed — you knew you owed it to the fact you were away from the Zenins.  

The same can’t be said about Gojo though. 

He stayed wide awake all night, restless, turning and tossing, making occasional visits to the shower even, to calm it down. Annoyed to some extent by how he was the only one in turmoil while you innocently slept next to him, unaware of his condition. He felt like an insatiable teenager all over again. How embarrassing, he thought... 

During the whole car ride to the Zenins, he kept yawning and rubbing his eyes from beneath his pitch-black sunglasses that were adeptly hiding his dark sleepless circles caused by none other than you. 

“You can wait in the car”, you try your chance one last time after arriving. 

“I said I’m coming with you, so don’t waste your breath” 

“Fine” 

After you both make it past the gates of the Zenin household, the few of the servants standing in the veranda quickly pad inside — most likely to bring it to your father’s attention, you think. 

All the rest you got the night before instantly leaves your body now that you’re in Zenin territory, your chest filled with unease as you cross the threshold of the place that, despite being so big, could never quite fit you in and be a home to you. 

Your mouth feels too dry, you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it keeps sitting there like an immovable object, growing bigger even the further you step in. 

Unknowingly, you’re grabbing Satoru’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Relax. I am right here”, he leans in to soothingly whisper in your ear, which makes you realize your actions. You pull your hand away, picking up your pace. 

...only to slow down and take a step back the moment your eyes fixate on none other than your brother, Naoya, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Waiting for you. His hair falling on his face, covering the look in his eyes but by the way his teeth bite into his lower lip, you can tell — he’s not thrilled by the view of you together.  

“Well, well”, a loud, hysterical laughter erupts from Naoya’s mouth as he strolls over to you, thumbing the bridge of his nose. “If this doesn’t remind me of good old times when my little sister would sneak out to play with you — are you perhaps falling back into that bad habit of yours, little lamb?” 

You flinch as Naoya’s claw-like hand reaches for your shoulder, ready to hook his grip on you, but with a swift move Gojo stands in front of you and stops your brother, leaving him unable to go any further due to his infinity. “Hello to you too” 

Naoya clicks his tongue, not pleased with the impenetrable intrusion. “Tch... Move, don’t butt in in family matters” 

Satoru chuckles condescendingly, “I am family too now, you know? — Dear brother-in-law" 

A jarring burst of inconsistent, unsettling laughter follows this declaration, each sound leaving Naoya’s lips grows more hectic and twisted, the tone wavering between low and high, and it sends a chill down your spine. 

“Huh... sis... that true?”, the deranged madness in his voice dying down now, but he speaks with a timbre of sinisterness. His eyes wide, unblinking and staring right at you with piercing lunacy in them. 

He had the same exact maniacal aura to him right now, just like years ago when he first confronted you about the secret escapades with Satoru. 

Terrified, you hug your shoulders. Head turned the other way, trying to hide from the sharp daggers in his gaze. 

You only manage a nod, and the sick sound from seconds ago echoes through the hallway once again. 

“You—”, Naoya grits his teeth, trying to draw near you but the whitehaired man before him won’t budge. “How long have you been plotting this for, huh?” 

Irritated at Gojo’s technique that leaves him unable to come any closer and wipe that mighty grin off his face, Naoya takes his frustration out on the wall by punching a hole right through it. “You fucking as—” 

“Naoya”, your father’s voice approaching from behind him interrupts the commotion. “Go cool your head off” 

“Tch...”, it’s not that he feels like complying, no. His arrogant self would never bow down to anyone, not even his own father, the clan head. 

But walking away right now gave him a chance to pass by you — and he’d gladly take it, as there was something he wanted to confirm.  

“Did you let him touch you, little lamb? Answer me — did you?”, he stops right behind you and whispers from over your shoulder. 

You wince, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. Noticing that Satoru’s hand is moving slightly up and getting ready to possibly attack your brother, you gesture at him to stop. Mouthing a silent it’s fine. 

“Don't but in in husband-wife matters, our sex life is off-limits for you, brother”, you mutter over your shoulder. 

“Pfft”, his eyes squint knowingly at you. “Good — I don’t smell foreign residuals on you. Good, little lamb. Good.” 

-- 

“So, you two, huh?”, Naobito, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the tatami room, takes a sip of his sake and wipes the droplets drizzling from the corners of his mouth. 

It was barely noon, yet your father, as per usual, had already started his drinking for the day, most likely during the early hours of the morning at that. 

You hum, but the man beside you, your husband, had something more to say. 

“What can I do, old man — your daughter’s a beauty, I had to go and take her. Pardon my rudeness, I forgot to ask for your approval first” — to which you basically facepalm yourself. 

“If you had done that first, you wouldn’t be sitting here now, you arrogant brat”, Naobito drags out, the alcohol must be getting to him. “But the damage is done already, what can I say”, he adds through a hiccup. 

“—or do, against me — Right, old man?”, Satoru shoots a proud grin, then on a more serious tone, he continues — “She’s mine now. And I don’t quite fancy it when people pry on what belongs to me. So, I ask of you to act accordingly from now on, or there will be consequences” 

“You ask? Yet this sounds more like a threat to me” 

“It could be, depends on you” 

Silence. 

The air in the room is intense and heavy after these exchanges. There’s a calm smile on both of your father’s and husband’s faces, yet the glare in their eyes is as cold as absolute zero. 

“With that being said, glad we’re on the same page and thank you for the half-assed belated blessing~ I will take care of her from now on, don’t you worry”, your husband nonchalantly breaks the silence, then looks at you with a quick shake of his head towards the door. Meaning, our job here is done. Let’s go. 

“You might go, I wish to speak to my daughter, alone” 

Satoru glances at you, looking for consent in your eyes. You nod affirmatively, “Wait for me in the car” 

Before walking out, Satoru gives one last warning. “Old man, if you try anything funny, I’ll make this place one with the ground beneath you”  

-- 

“Make this place one with the ground?”, Naobito laughs uproariously. “You’ve gotten under his skin. Good.” 

He gulps down another cup before proceeding, “He’s always got a soft spot for you. I’ve seen his eyes wander in search of you during clans’ gatherings, but this — this is beyond my expectations even”, he wheezes. “Good job. You’re finally doing something right and being useful to the clan” 

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my own sake”, you grit your teeth. 

“I don’t care for your purpose so long we sow the benefits of what you reap, just like I don’t care how you do it so long you take him down — poison him or slit his throat in his sleep, I couldn’t care less. Just make sure he’s dead by the end of it — it’s the only way to get that lousy freedom you’ve been babbling about all these years” 

The terms were clear from the beginning, yet your stomach fills to the brim with guilt, threatening to spill out from your mouth the more your father speaks of it. 

And he continues, “If you give him a child too in the meantime — even better. That way the Zenins can take over the Gojo Clan”, a greedy curve on his mouth wet with sake. “But in all honesty, what surprises me the most is you, actually — you’re more of a Zenin now than ever”, an unhinged laughter cracks his lips. 

Your father’s words stab through your heart like a sharp knife. Snapping a few necks for the greater good for yourself, your freedom, shouldn’t be a problem after all you’ve been through. 

But then, why does it feel like he is right? You are more of a Zenin now than ever. Why does it feel like the more you try to run away from the Zenins, the more you become one? 

And why does your heart ache so much for the man you are to kill soon?

[versupital]

JJK ROOMMATES (aka my tumblr debut)

summary! he comes home to find that you’ve been drinking, and sees you in a rather… compromising situation of sorts. things are said, some teasing is done, and your relationship with your roomie is forever changed.

PAIRINGS. gojo/reader, nanami/reader, choso/reader

CONTENT: implied smut, switch!reader, slight exhibitionism, cunnilingus, afab!reader

this is my first post on tumblr!! i hope everyone enjoys. crit welcome ^.^

GOJO [with Geto + Toji Cameo.] oh so you can twerk on your friend? come show me what that ass is really good for.

You had invited your girls over for a sleepover. A small group, only three of you. The goal had been to get wine drunk, paint, and play some drinking games. (Like naming all the things you like about Satoru Gojo.)

A few glasses in and plans had changed, though.

You were in the center of the living room, the furniture moved out of the way, as you all had a ‘dance battle.’ But you were so far gone off of wine by now, that you were basically just dry humping your friends and taking turns throwing it back on both of them while they cheered you on.

You could smell the noise complaint letter from the landlords a mile away, but right now you didn't care.

The wine had your senses tingling. You could sense the unwanted urge to text your roommate and ask him what he was doing. But you knew full well that he had declared his own plans away from home with his friends, and that it was not your place to rush him.

But God, it was so hard. Your impulse control had practically vanished by now. It would be nothing to sneak away and call Gojo, putting on your whiny voice that always got him to fold like a lawn chair.

As if eavesdropping on your thoughts—right when you were in the middle of bending down in front of your friend to touch your toes and hit an extremely raunchy dance move—the front door busted open and in walked Gojo with two of his friends you'd only seen a few times: Toji and Geto.

Gojo was carrying a tower of pizza boxes while Geto held two thick bottles of clear liquor, and Toji stood empty-handed, a smirk on his face.

"We're crashing your party!" Gojo announced, sitting the boxes down on the counter. If not for his sunglasses, you would be able to see his eyes practically burning through your clothes.

You didn't bother straightening up or pretending that you weren't just throwing ass on your friend. And she certainly didn't pretend not to be catching all that you were throwing.

And the boys certainly didn't pretend to not be looking.

Y/F/N who had been standing to the side, recording, dropped her phone and spoke up, annoyance in her tone.

"Who the hell invited you?" she demanded.

"Well, I do live here, so write that down,” Gojo retorted, coming around the island, pointing at you. "Secondly, look at how you have my roommate acting. Looks like I got here just in time. I didn't even know she knew how to..." his eyes had latched back onto your ass. "Do that."

"Jealous that someone knows how to twerk better than you, Satoru?" Geto chimed in.

Gojo was silent, as that was clearly not what he was jealous about.

“Alright, sounds like a twerk battle is in order!” Toji boomed, clapping his hands, walking towards you girls.

“They just want to see us shake some ass,” your friend whispered from behind you, as you stood straight with your back to her.

You giggled, not caring in this slightest if it was a trap, as you’d gladly show off your skills to the white-haired boy. His friends could look if they wanted to, but it was his gaze, his opinion that mattered most to you.

The boys piled into the living room with schoolboy expressions and tried to sneak onto the couch.

Your girls immediately started exclaiming, “absolutely not!” “Get your ass up and twerk.” “You thought this was just going to be between us girls?”

The boys insisted on you allowing them to catch up to your level of drunkenness, to which you agreed.

And that is how you ended up in the corner of the living room, grinding on Gojo's lap.

The scent of tequila clouded the room. The music, at some point, had been switched from thumping party music to soft reggae, the lights all turned down.

Toji and your friend (who had yelled at the boys) were eating each other’s faces in the kitchen, and your other drunken friend was in deep conversation with an equally as drunk Geto on the couch; both of them sitting cross-legged and dangerously close, in their own bubble.

Everyone was occupied. So no one noticed Gojo's hands drunkenly slithering up your back side, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of your hips, his breath hitching as he tried to keep himself quiet.

You kept dragging your hips forward and backward on his clothed dick—that had long since hardened beneath you—the world fuzzy around the edges as you barely registered what exactly it was you were doing.

The "twerk battle" had been just this, essentially since it started, because Gojo had lost his mind when you'd started throwing it at him, and the liquor had gotten the best of his lightweight ass.

"Y/N, wait..." he groaned out suddenly. “What are we doing?”

A surge of confidence washed through your veins as you stood and turned, wanting to see his face. His blinking eyes, now free from the sunglasses, were stunned as he stared at you, lips parted.

“What do you think we’re doing?” you questioned, biting your lip, perching yourself back up on his lap and proceeding to make the same motions with your hips from before.

A low groan escaped from deep within his throat.

“But Geto and—“

You placed a finger over his soft lips. He bared them back to nip the tip of your finger with his teeth. The sensation flooded your nerves, down to your core.

“Do I hear the Satoru Gojo being… shy?” you teased.

His hand flew to your throat in a flash, the pads of his fingers pressing into your glands and forcing your face towards his, the aroma of different kinds of liquor mixing together in the air between you.

“Who’s shy?” he purred, cocking his head to the side. “You honestly saying you can handle being fucked in front of your friends? That what you want?”

You gulped a bit.

“I…” The words got hung in your throat.

“As I figured,” he cooed, pulling you even closer to him. “It’s alright, we’ll kick everyone out soon, and then I’ll mark you all over this livingroom. But for now, keep grinding, princess.”

NANAMI miss me so much you had to touch yourself in my shirt baby?

Maybe just a little masturbation wouldn't hurt. To rub one out quickly and relieve some of the pent up energy you had from not having a partner in months couldn’t possibly be weird.

Except for the fact that here you lay, a bottle of tequila with a noticeable dent in it on the table next to you, snuggled up in one of Nanami's big, blue dress shirts. You'd never admit this to him aloud, but on these times that he was gone on long trips, you missed him.

At first you'd chalked it up to missing the security that came with living with a man, but you realize now it was one-hundred percent his company, his warmth, him that you missed. His shirt was the only thing that filled the void for you. You’d secretly wear them all week, but this was the first time you’d found yourself masturbating in one.

One minute you’d been sipping curtly on your tequila, the next you’d begun picturing Nanami; his fingers unclasping the heavy golden watch that he always wore, then you’d laid back on the couch and imagined what other things his big fingers could do.

Your hands found the top button of his shirt, and then the second, and then the third, until your breasts came free, the cold air eroticizing your nipples until they were so hard that it hurt. You slid a hand underneath the waistband of your underwear and began to tease yourself, the free hand twisting one of your nipples as you let out a gasp.

You could smell Nanami's cologne. Strong, but sweet; just like him. The scent of a man in general was driving you forward as you slid your fingers across your slick clit in circular motions.

You kept inhaling deep breaths through your nose to get more hints of the cologne; his general musk. You couldn't help picturing his face with his lips parted in pleasure, his hair between your fingers, his hands sliding up your arms, binding them together with harsh ropes—

You gasped as you tried to shake such nasty thoughts about your sweet roommate away, but the pleasure coming from your wild imagination was adding to your arousal.

His face appeared in your mind’s eye all over again. You shut your eyes and finally stopped fighting it. You were aching to slide a finger in, so you gave your body exactly what it wanted. You let out a gasp, a gasp so loud that it masked the sound of the door opening.

You began pumping your finger in and out, wringing pleasure from every stem of your nerves. You whined at the intensity, still seeing Nanami in your mind's eye, hovering over you. He’d massage your thigh with his free hand as his fingers pumped mercilessly into your dripping core. Despite his innocence, you knew he’d put your pleasure first. You knew he could take care of your needs and satisfy your hunger. Another whine fell from your mouth.

By this point you needed those restricting lace panties to come off and give you more room to open your legs. You opened your eyes so that you could see what you were doing, and when you did, your visions of Nanami didn't go away, because he was standing over you.

You let out a yelp and immediately took your wet finger out of your core, using your hands to pinch his shirt closed and hide your breasts.

"N-Nanami, you're home,” you rasped, your throat dry from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I—“

"No, I-I'm sorry," sped out of his mouth, cutting you off. "I should have looked away the second I saw you."

His cheeks were as red as yours felt. And yet, the expression his face did not seem very sorry. It was an expression similar to a starving man watching people eat through the window of a restaurant.

"I've never come home to a woman touching herself in my shirt, though," he added sheepishly, swallowing so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

"I just..." you started, sitting up, your heart racing; as you still hadn't shaken the embarrassment. You didn't know what to say, so you started gushing out apologies. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, this is weird and creepy and—"

"So fucking hot," Nanami breathed.

"W-What?" you blinked up at him, unsure if he’d really said that or if the liquor was really hitting now.

"I mean, it's..." Nanami cleared his throat and started tugging on his collar. "It's so fucking hot, in here."

"Maybe you should take your shirt off," you heard yourself say, though it sounded so far away. You couldn't believe you'd just said that. Had those words actually come from your mouth?

He had long since looked away, but now his neck snapped back towards you, his pupils black with desire.

"Of whom?" he asked.

"Me," you whispered, as if your pussy was speaking for you.

If Nanami was shocked, he didn't show it. He dropped his suitcase on the ground with a thud and was sitting in front of you on the couch in milliseconds.

He reached up and took off his glasses, sitting them down on the table, next to the liquor bottle. A single strand of his blond hair had fallen over his glistening forehead, and you were so deep in heat that it made you even wetter.

“How much have you had to drink?” he questioned. “I… don’t want to feel I am taking advantage of you.”

“Hmm,” you began, “maybe that’s what I want. I solemnly swear that I am…” you hiccuped a bit, inciting a deep chuckle from him, “mostly sober.”

Your arms fell away from your chest and your breasts popped back out of his shirt. He licked his lips, clearly wanting to hold back, but he must have lost the battle with his morals because his erotically cold hands found the buttons of his shirt on you—and started expertly popping the rest open.

One. By. One.

His shirt fell away from your chest and exposed your entire naked torso, which Nanami gazed at like it was the last supper. You shifted before him, wanting to hide yourself.

"You always get so bashful when I stare," Nanami cooed, a soft hand pushing the shirt down off of your shoulders until it was a big pile around your waist. "Never understood why. You're so..." he sucked in a breath and dropped his hand, curling his fingers. "I want to eat you alive."

You bit your lip. You wanted to beg him to make good on his threat, but you knew it was already so wrong of him to be undressing you, let alone to put his mouth on you. But you wanted him to. Wanted it so bad, it was causing pain between your legs.

“Then feast,” you tutted back, leaning on your elbows and slowly spreading your legs—revealing the light blue lace panties, complete with a tiny pink bow; the ones Nanami had caught himself staring at a few times when doing your laundry.

It was like you could read each other’s mind, and before you knew it, those panties were across the room; your roommate’s head in their place.

CHOSO i just saved you! how are you gonna repay me?

Choso opened your apartment door, grunting in pain for the hundredth time at the searing wave of pain that was traveling up his back. He could go for a hot shower and a massage, but he was lucky to even get the 'hot shower' part, given your apartment had the shittiest plumbing he'd ever seen.

A long day of working out, and all he'd wanted now was to sink into the couch and pretend to fight with you about putting on face masks and having a movie night. Verbally, he always claimed he hated it; because apparently, guys weren’t supposed to like that kind of thing, but internally, that quality time was sometimes the only thing keeping him going.

He glanced around the living room and kitchen. You weren't anywhere to be seen. Not unusual, you could have just been out with your friends. Your car was out front, but that hardly meant anything; you’d disappear for hours and even days without your car at times. He knew you had a life, but he also felt it to be his duty to make sure you were safe.

Choso sent you a text about dinner plans, and decided to start dressing down while he awaited your reply, partially taking off his sweaty gym shirt and resting it around his neck. The gnawing suspicion that you were home was confirmed when he heard your phone ding across the room. He hummed, deciding he would juuuust have to wait for you to emerge. Hmph.

It was as Choso began to unpack his gym bag that he heard banging, like someone knocking on a door. In the silence of the home, he was able to catch your bone-dry voice shouting on top of the knocking.

He went into action. Adrenaline immediately began to make him sweat all over again as he hustled around the house to locate the noises, realizing they were coming from down the hall.

He pulled on every doorknob until he found one that didn't twist: the bathroom. Locked.

He heard your voice from the other side; completely frantic, hoarse from an undetermined amount of screaming.

His heart sank. The thought of you in trouble caused his mind to wipe clean of all ideas and thoughts besides getting you out of it.

"Y/N?" he called to the other side of the door. "Are you... are you locked in there?"

You wailed from the other side. Choso's heart had already sped up, but now it was completely shattered.

"I...I don't know," your muffled voice slurred from the other side

Choso realized then that you had been drinking, and locked yourself plain into the bathroom. He wondered how many hours you'd been there. He had been at the gym for most of the afternoon.

"What did you drink?" Choso asked, still shaking at the handle, trying to wedge it free.

Deflecting the topic to try and make you feel better had been something he’d learned while trying to navigate this new world of human emotions.

"I only had a..." a hiccup cut you off. "I only had a little bit of cognac."

"How much is a little bit?" Choso questioned. "You've locked yourself in the bathroom, Y/N. How much did you drink?"

"I don't... remember," you cried. "Been stuck for hours. Choso..." your voice practically screamed the last word, and he could hear your voice cracking more. "I need you."

Choso didn't have time to debrief exactly what a statement like that did to his psyche before he was super-manning back to the livingroom to search for the chain of keys that unlocked each door in the apartment.

He would have to try them all, one by one, because he had no faith that he would be able to explain to you how to unlock the door from your side.

He came back and heard you crying his name once again. He put his hand flat on the door, as if you could see or feel him from beyond it.

"I'm here, Y/N," he said softly. "You'll have to be patient with me, but I will get you out. I promise."

"Please," you called back, equally as soft.

That was all the push Choso needed to ram every single key into the lock with panic. Over and over he frantically shoved each key in with shaking hands, trying to set you free.

He finally felt the lock click as a key found its match to the ridges inside and the doorknob shifted. He rattled the knob a bit and then the door was coming open.

He looked down to see you, red-faced and tear-stained on the floor, your knees to your chest.

Choso took a deep breath knowing that you were not bleeding out on the bathroom floor or anything, but his heart still thumped rapidly in his chest at the fact that you had been in here, with no food or water, and apparently no cellphone for hours.

And before he had a chance to utter a single word, you were on your feet and stumbling toward him, throwing your whole body weight on him, which didn't even make him stumble.

He raised his black eyebrows in surprise. You were... hugging him.

He let himself melt into the hug for just a moment, smelling your soft aroma mix beautifully with the liquor.

"You saved me!" you cried out, your little arms trying their best to make it all the way around his frame.

He let his own hands wrap back around you for a moment, patting your back awkwardly, despite the feminine urge to let his hands linger.

"I just unlocked the door," he joked, his voice coming out quite dry.

You backed away from the embrace then, staring up at him with dilated pupils.

“I need you more than keys need doors," you said suddenly. “I…I want your key.”

Choso blinked in disbelief, unsure how one responded to that.

"Let's get you something to eat," he said instead, deflecting again, plucking your hands away from his heated body but swallowing thickly all the while.

He grabbed you by your elbows and pulled you gently out of the bathroom before placing one hand on your hip to steady you as you stumbled with him down the hall.

Despite your stumbling, you didn't impact Choso's pace at all. You were falling into him in all kinds of ways, your head lolling on his chest, and there he walked next to you as steady as ever; his breath hitching each time the side of your body rubbed against his.

He brought you to the couch and coursed you down slowly. But, just when he was about to stand straight, you grabbed him by the sweaty shirt that hung around his neck and kept him close to your face.

He gasped, his perfect lips letting out the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. His eyes widened, and you imagined them rolled back deep into his head, wondering what other noises you could wring from him as your hands explored the shapes of his muscles.

"I don't like repeating myself, Cho," you said through your cracked and sore throat, soberness creeping up on you very suddenly. "So you either fuck me; or I make you sit here and watch me get myself off while moaning your name."

He looked shocked but only momentarily, then his face twisted into a representation of his desire. You caught a quick glance at his sweatpants; whatever he said next would be easy to tell a lie from the truth, because the hardened length in his pants had already given his answer for him.

"I think you’re a little too dehydrated,” Choso cracked, trying to plaster a grin on his face, but it was hard for him to laugh through the overwhelming urge to obey you.

“I don’t need water,” you said, your raspy voice betraying you, “I. Need. You. How else can I thank such a good boy like you for helping me out of the bathroom?”

Good boy. You’d called him a good boy. His eyes practically fell out of his head.

Alright, fine, he thought. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been flirting with each the past few weeks, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already heard you moaning his name, it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed you leaning your head on his shoulder during movie nights.

He sat down next to you on the couch and reached over to grip you by your hips and effortlessly brought you down on top of him.

“Wanna thank me for helping, huh?” he mewled. “Let’s see how grateful you really are.”

still working on mastering their characterizations; i feel like gojo’s was a lil off, but with more practice i know ill get there >.<

xoxo, pennjammin

[nisuna]

Nini's Masterlist

GUYS I FINALLY DID IT, welcome to my masterlist :^)

<3NEW AND FEATURED<3

supportive!bff!Yuji x f!reader (s;a)-TW mental health-

Late night Choso thoughts (f;s)

cult leader!Geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader (s)

boyfriend!Geto x f!reader x bestfriend!Gojo (s)

Jjk Men making you cry during sex

boxing match aftermath; Sylus x f!reader (s)

step bro!Yuji x Nee-chan!reader (s)

Inbox OPEN! (request rules)

s(smut) ; f(fluff) ; a(angst)

Pick your Poison:

JJK

*Itadori Yuji*

supportive!bff!Yuji x f!reader (s;a)-TW mental health-

step bro!Yuji x camgirl!reader (s)

step bro!Yuji x curvy!reader (s)

bff!Yuji x f!reader (s)

Choso x f!reader x Yuji (s)

step bro!Yuji x Nee-chan!reader (s)

*Gojo Satoru*

teen!Gojo x milf!reader (s)

Gojo x Geto's little sister (s)

mommy issues!Gojo x f!reader (s)

Perv!Bffs!Satosugu x f!reader (s;f)

tipsy/big brother!Geto x f!reader x Gojo (s)

soft-dom!Gojo x shy!glasses!f!reader (s)

boyfriend!Geto x f!reader x bestfriend!Gojo (s)

*Geto Suguru*

Geto x f!reader (feat.Gojo cameo) (s)

FWB!Geto x f!reader (s)

Perv!Bffs!Satosugu x f!reader (s;f)

tipsy!big brother!Geto x f!reader x Gojo (s)

cult leader!Geto x non-sorcerer!f!reader (s)

smut adventures of CL!Geto part 1 (s)

smut adventures of CL!Geto part 2 (s)

boyfriend!Geto x f!reader x bestfriend!Gojo (s)

*Choso Kamo*

Choso eating you out on your period (s)

Choso x f!reader x Yuji (s)

Late night Choso thoughts (f;s)

*Fushiguro Megumi*

Fushiguro Stepcest tag team x f!reader (s)

pervy!step bro!Megumi x f!reader (s)

*Fushiguro Toji*

Fushiguro Stepcest tag team x f!reader (s)

Toji x single mom!reader (s)

Toji x single mom!reader pt.2 (s)

*Nanami Kento*

husband!Nanami x wife!reader (s;a)

*Ryomen Sukuna*

Sukuna x protective!big sister!reader (s;a)(TW:forced s*x)

*Multi*

Jjk Men making you cry during Sex (s;a;f)

Genshin Impact

Anemo Boys x f!reader (s)

HSR

yet to cum :^)

CSM

*Hayakawa Aki*

yet to cum :^)

LADS

*Sylus*

boxing match aftermath; Sylus x f!reader (s)

------

Keep me awake and ready to write with a kofi<3

[gojokive]

Let Me In.

❝ that's not my neighbor ❞  › toji fushiguro › kamo choso › gojo satoru › nanami kento › geto suguru ‹

𝚂𝚈𝙽𝙾𝙿𝚂𝙸𝚂 › falling for your next-door neighbor was never a part of your plan. he has a wife and child and him being nice was simply being a kind person but you taking it and twisting it into something else was all on your own. so what are you supposed to do when you're staring face-to-face with your neighbor's doppelganger.

↳ 'toji' fushiguro x afab!reader ♡ ↳ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ › angst, smut ↳ ᴄᴡ › mention of gore and dismemberment, blood, monster like (beefcake) toji, oral sex (female receiving), semi-public (you're in your own box but like still in the open? lol), cameo's from Nanami & Yuji & loads of teasing. ↳ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ › 2.7K+ ↳ ᴘᴏsᴛ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ › 07.29.2024

thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s)/like(s) are totally welcomed! › read more work here: masterlist ‹

”oh, c’mon pretty.“ your breath hitches at the row of sharp teeth on display as he places the bloodied hand of a DDD member right up to the glass and waves. ”I won't hurt ya, mama. You're far too pretty for that. Just open the door.“ He uses it's fingers to tap against the glass as your breath hitches at the show of brute force.

The doppelgänger in question is imitating your neighbor, Toji Fushiguro. One of the neighbors you have a massive crush on. In all honesty, he would have been a direct match if it hadn't have been for his eyes. His pretty emerald green eyes are gone, the white's of his eyes replaced with a solid black and his pupil's with grey.

“I’ll give you a treat if you let me in.”

"Toji is already upstairs. I let him and his wife in earlier."

"Are you sure it was the right one?" He laughs but it sounds off. More like a sinister version of Toji's. It sends a chill down your spine as you wring your hands together.

"P-Positive." You clear your throat. "Open the door, pretty."

"What's in it for me?"

"A treat." You don't know why you’re tempted to let him in but you are. It isn’t until he grins again, tossing the hand behind him and pressing his own against the glass that leaves a streak of blood behind. "I'm tired of begging. Open the door."

You trail your eyes down the carbon copy of the man that’s currently sitting upstairs with his wife and child.

“-my wife, my son and I aren’t expecting any visitors today. Thank you.”

You squint, breath hitching but trying your hardest not to let him see how nervous you are. He teasingly runs his hand down to his bulge and gives it a gentle squeeze before grabbing it to give it shape. Your eye twitches when you notice how big he is, hating how it's messing with you and he knows it. He smirks at your obvious reaction because he knows exactly what he's doing to you. You're so down bad but he knows he can use this in his favor. Especially since it's been so long since you've been with someone other than your vibrator.

He's been watching you for a while. He knows exactly what he needs to do to get you to surrender. He'll pleasure you until you pass out and once he knows you're out cold, he'll kill his alternate.

“Mm, You look as if you liked that, mama? Wanna taste?" He chuckles as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. His smile is wickedly handsome even with his sharp teeth on display.

Another factor that reminds you that he's just a replica.

"Open the door.”

Biting your bottom lip, you contemplate your options. Your first thought is to press the 'danger' button and dial the DDD again but you wonder what use would that have? He's already wiped out most of the DDD they sent your way the first time. What's the use in getting more people killed?

"I can see you're conflicted." He points to the door and then back at himself. "Open it."

You clear your throat the moment he winks. You’ve dreamt about those lips on you more times than you would like to admit. Doing things to you that a married man shouldn’t be doing to anyone other than his wife. He knows what you’re thinking, knows you’re contemplating opening it for him because your craving is clear as day. 

“I promise I won’t tell,” He says, tilting his head like he's thinking. ”Wait no, I guess I should say I won’t kill anyone, right?”

“I can’t-”

“Oh but you can.” He nods his head to the dead bodies behind him as if to taunt you. “Their death's are on your hands and if you press that button again. More people will die. You don’t want that, do you sweetheart?”

You frown at his words. They were doing what they were hired to do. It’s not your fault they couldn’t handle their job. Granted, this doppelganger is a lot stronger than the others. It's not your fault they were killed. But, you know if you let him in, he's going to kill Toji and his family.

And their death's will definitely be on you conscious.

"Their death's have nothing to do with me."

"That's a little heartless, don't ya think?" His laugh is boisterous as he shrugs. "Sexy."

You stare each other down but there's something in you that feels drawn to him.

"Time's ticking. Make up your mind."

There was a split second where you glance at the button again, knowing you have to push it. You need to push it. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what you’re supposed to do.

He catches wind of what you were about doing and punches the glass, nearly shattering it and leaving it cracked.

“I wouldn't press that again if I were you, yeah?” He grits through his teeth while flexing his fingers.

“U-Under DDD code 364.c1-”

“yeah, yeah, yeah.” He cuts you off with a wave of his hand but his smile never fades (though you wish it would). “Press that button again and I'll break this glass.” He growls, showing his sharp teeth that you know can rip you to shreds if he really wants to. “Now, open the door. Let's not make this harder than it needs to be.”

“I-If I do?” You ask, “Wha-”

“Playing hard to get, I see. It’s okay. I know you’ll open it. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Oh, I’ve been watching you, pretty.” He chuckles, palming himself as you watch it twitch from the stimulation. “Watching how you touch yourself to the thought of him. You wish he was yours instead of hers, don’t you?” This Toji laughs at the way your eyes widen. “Thought so. I can make that happen, mama." I just need you to unlock the door.”

You don’t know how you should feel, honestly. On the one hand, you know you should care since you know it’s your fault for falling for a married man who was only trying to be nice. Saying hello whenever he sees you, opening the door like a gentleman and just being sweet to you. You know Toji wasn’t doing it for you to take it any other way than him being cordial but he was one of the only ones (aside from Nanami) who even acknowledged your existence. Poor Nanami, he tried everything to get your attention but Toji was permanently ingrained in your mind. Why couldn’t you fall for him the way you did Toji? You knew if you did, it would have saved you the headache and heartache.

Too bad your heart wouldn’t comply (or rather, your body wouldn’t let you comply).

You realized you were down bad because whenever you would masturbate, it was his name on your tongue. It was his voice you heard praising you and it was the man himself you imagined on top of you. You didn’t mean to fall for your mean-looking neighbor but he had the physical appearance of your dream man (and even if you couldn’t tell his personality from the minimal interactions), he was always friendly. Even when his wife wasn’t around. As much as you would love to be in her shoes, You wouldn’t dare break up a happy home. You’ve never done it before and you would never do it in the future because you wouldn’t want it done to you.

What goes around, comes around… right?

So why are you thinking about it now?

You should do your job and call the DDD again (no matter how long it takes for them to dispatch this doppelganger). You should do the right thing!

So why aren’t you closing the shutters and pressing the button?

Why aren’t you calling?

What’s going through your head?

“Open the door, mama.”

You know it’s wrong but… at least, if you can’t have the real Toji, you can have a semi-picture-perfect version.

A smile creeps onto the doppelganger's face when he realizes you’re so inside your head and trying to justify the decision you’re about to make. You don’t realize your hand is closer to the ‘unlock’ button until you hear a long ‘buzz’ sound through the room.

“Shit!” You jump from the sudden realization of what you’ve done, hurrying to lock it back but it’s already too late. He’s already slipped through the heavy metal door. "No, No, No!" You scramble to call the DDD for support. You’re stumbling over your words, knowing you fucked up big time. You’re sure to be fired and you can’t have that! Not now when you need this job. "I need someone to-"

Before you can even finish, you feel his large hand wrap around yours to snatch the phone. He goes even further by ripping it from the wall and launching it across the room.

Completely breaking it from further use.

“What did I say?” You hear him growl, nails digging into the top of the leather chair as he swivels you around to face him. “You don’t listen do you?”

“I could get in trouble-“

“Don’t worry about that right now…” You notice his brow twitch in irritation before relaxing again as he gently grabs your hand. “The only thing you need to worry that pretty little head over is how I’m going to enjoy devouring you.” He places it over his hard-on to have you rub it for him. From the base to the tip, he’s huge. You knew that from when he was holding it earlier but actually feeling how heavy it is, is another story. It's almost monster like in size, length and girth and for a second you don’t know how you’re going to take all of him...

Wait... Why are you even thinking about this right now?

Is this what they meant about being down bad?

He grips your chin and brings your head back so you're looking up as he stares down. The look on his face screams: smug. He knows exactly what's going through your head and quite frankly, you're so easy to read.

Even easier to manipulate too.

"This mouth has to be for something other than yapping, yeah?" He runs his finger over lips as you take it into your mouth to suck on it. He chuckles, thinking of all the ways he'll make you submit. He doesn't even care about killing his doppelgänger. At least, for now.

He can't leave you aroused like this now, can we?

You, on the other hand, are so in your head, you don't realize how he's got you under his spell. Thinking about his size makes your mouth water. Thinking about how he would have to bully his cock into you makes your pussy clench. God, he would feel so good. You know this and it makes you want to try to fit all of him inside. You want him to fuck you senseless. You have no doubt the stretch will burn so good to the point you won’t know what to do with yourself. His body completely engulfs yours and for a second, you can feel the heat travel through your body at the thought. Your thighs clench and he dares you to do something, laughing at how your whole demeanor has changed.

“You like that, don’t ya?” He teases, “Like how you know I can manhandle, doll?” 

It jumps the more you stroke it. You wonder if the real Toji’s is as big as this but then you shake that thought from your head.

“How about I take you to your place and show you how much better I can be?” He moans once you squeeze it.

Fuck, you want it so bad but you’re still on the clock. You can't leave even if you wanted to.

And you absolutely want to. 

“Can’t.” You whine, moving closer (so close your lips almost touch) but the sound of the front door closing and footsteps being heard frightens out of you. You push him underneath the desk and hold a finger to your lips. He grins before winking as if to say ‘yeah’. You feel the warmth of his hands on the inside of your thighs, prying them apart only to smell how you’re absolutely dripping with need.

You try your hardest to not be obvious but it’s easier said than done when you’re ticklish. The moment he nips at your inner thigh causes you to moan, your laughter dying out as your neighbor looks confused.

“Sorry. Y-You’re good though! Have a good night, Yuji!” You squeal his name as he frowns but nods as he heads through the door. 

“You smell so delicious.” Toji groans to no one but himself, wanting to spread you out like a full-course meal but he’ll have time later. Right now, he simply pushes your skirt above your hips and move your panties to the side to lick a stripe up to your clit before nipping at it. “Taste fucking good too, baby.”

“Ah, ah…” You place your fist near your mouth to try and silence your moans.

There are more footsteps, halting you from enjoying the pleasure he’s giving you but you know you aren’t going to last much longer. It's a given since you haven’t done anything sexual with someone in so long.

“Hey!” You’re startled when that familiar mop of blonde is visible and you’re face to face with Nanami Kento. “I was hoping you were working today.” 

“H-Hey, Kento!” You smile, trying to disguise your heavy breathing but of course, he can see right through you.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Y-Yeah! I, um,” You pause to stop the moan you almost release as your smile strains further. You can feel Toji going to town on your pussy, realizing it’s probably the first time he’s ever tasted something like it. You choke just thinking about it causing Nanami’s brows to crease. “I-I’m okay! I promise.” You chuckle nervously, hoping he can't hear what's happening below the desk.

“You sure?” 

“Y-Yes! Coming home?”

“Yes. Work was rather stressful.” You nod along to his statement, knowing he doesn’t know how true that statement is for you right now.

“I- Fuck-” Nanami eyes widen at your vulgar language, unsure of how to respond. He’s never heard you curse before. Hell, he’s never heard you speak aside from asking him the necessary questions to gain entry to his condo. So this is all new to him. “Do you have your entry pass?”

“Oh yeah, sure.” He hands it to you but carefully watches your demeanor for anything out of place. It’s when he notices how squeamish you are and how your breathing is a little heavier than usual.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine, Nanami.”

"Kento." He corrects you with a smile before grabbing his other identification you need. “But hey, now that I have you here, I was wondering if you wanted to come over. For dinner?”

"Dinner?!" You grip the desk before slouching over trying to move his head. Your voice grow in pitches. "D-Diner..."

"What's happening? Are you hurt?"

"Cramps. I-I'm sorry." You whine, apologizing for worrying him. You bite your bottom lip and sigh, "Y-You’re good to go and here.” You write your number on a piece of paper and slide it to him along with his pass. "C-Call me and you we can set a date." You feel Toji's nails dig into you at this as you hiss at the burning feeling.

The blonde, however, is a oblivious to what's going on as he smiles before telling you to take care and heading through the heavy metal door.

You know he was the last person to come through the door, slamming the shutters close to pull yourself away from him. He quickly picked you up to place you on the table with a growl. Your arousal glistening all over his mouth and chin.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you, pretty girl.”

Yeah, he’s going to make you scream for him in more ways than one.

© KUNAJOU 2024 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED  PLEASE DO NOT PLAGIARISE -and/or- TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK. thank you for reading! & remember: you nice, keep going.❤️ comment/reblogs(s)/like(s) are totally welcomed!

[mitsuristoleme]

cw: gojo x geto, canon compliant, shoko cameo, angst, NOT proofread

“Satoru!” 

“I love you, Satoru.”

“Satoru, you’re the love of my life.”

Satoru sinks to the ground next to bed, curling into himself. What had just happened?

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

What the fuck did that even mean?

His glasses had come off a while ago, lost somewhere in the streets of Shinjuku. 

He wants to cry. He wants to cry so much. The tears just wouldn’t leave his eyes, his heart heavy in his chest, burning a hole through his body. 

“I’ll never leave you.” Suguru had said, his nimble fingers tracing patterns under Satoru’s shirt. 

Lies. 

He lied.

He left him. 

“You’re the love of my life.” Suguru had said for the first time, the words whispered in Satoru’s arms as he passed out after eating his first special grade. 

Was that a lie too? 

Did he ever even love him? 

Why would he leave him behind?

Satoru has no idea how long he sits there spiralling into the dark cavern of his thoughts before the tears start to roll down his face, before his sniffles turn into sobbing and hyperventilating, pulling sharp breaths into his nose for no reason than his body’s need to live on.

“Satoru~” Suguru had almost purred, his eyes crinkling into that signature half moon smile , waving him over, his bag slung over his shoulder, the setting sun behind him making him look ethereal, angelic even.

“Why?” Satoru questions aloud, his voice cracking, a fresh round of sobs forcing itself from his mouth once more. 

His chest hurt. 

Was it from crying too much? Was it heartache?

He vaguely registers his the door clicking open and shut. 

There’s a hand on his back. It’s warm, comforting.

The other hand slides between the cage he’d made with his arms, to grip onto his chin, forcing his head to lift up. 

His eyes are full of tears, he doesn’t know who he’s looking at. His six eyes are sluggish, all he knows is that he knows this cursed energy.

His heart soars for a fleeting moment.

“Suguru?” he croaks.

“No man, it’s me, Shoko. ‘M sorry.”

Satoru wails, “Shoko. Shoko, he- he left, Shoko. He left me.”

She sighs.

“I know. C’mon get up, get in bed.”

She somehow manages to haul him into bed.

Satoru hears her mention a sedative through his sobs. He doesn’t care what she does. 

Theres a prick on the base of his neck. His head swims. 

Shoko runs a hand along his forehead. He doesn’t know if it’s to get his attention or soothe him. Both maybe.

“I’ll be here tomorrow. But you need to sleep right now.”

He nods. He doesn’t know what else to do.

Suguru’s face flashes through his hazy mind. The millionth time tonight. 

He would’ve followed him anywhere. Why didn’t he take Satoru with him? He would’ve died for him. But now? Now he was just dying inside. 

There would be an order for his arrest sent out tomorrow. Satoru would be told to capture his own best friend, his boyfriend- was he his boyfriend anymore? 

He loved Geto Suguru. 

He loved him.

Satoru passes out at that. 

a/n: IM SO SORRY!! if anyone was curious, i was listening to loml and the smallest man who ever lived by taylor swift while writing this. i also almost cried. so. hope you had fun??? comment and reblog mayhaps please?

also i wrote this in like 20 something minutes pls forgive me for any errors

[tiramissyoucake]

Hello! Hope you are doing good :)

Can I request a reader who is stronger than Gojo? Gojo had a crush on her for years, but she only sees him as a friend, one time when she is staying in his room with him, she would confess that she has a girlfriend.

Can it please be angsty :')?

I'm doing good thanks! Watched oppenheimer today, it melted my brain a little but it was great

THIS IS IMPORTANT THO: For the sake of reader's sexuality being ambiguous I did keep their partner's gender unknown, I feel like specification would ruin it sjdksjdj I hope it won't bother you

Satoru gojo x reader, angst, reader is stronger than gojo, gojo is very irrational and angry here, gojo has a back + leg injury here, reader is already in a relationship, brief Satosugu banter, Shoko cameo, very little proof reading approx 2.2k? words

The strongest have responsibilities, any ideology any person holds always places responsibilities on the strongest. Be it to protect the weak, further the world, anything of the sort– the strongest bare the burden. Satoru knew this better than anyone, he was raised to believe he was the strongest in the world of Jujutsu– his parents, friends, teachers, everyone agreed he needed to accept the fact that he was strong.

He just didn't know he would be humbled so quickly by stronger acquaintances. He thought he would be dead by the time someone as strong or stronger than him appeared, yet here you were. Satoru was improving bit by bit through his experiences in Jujutsu Tech, but you? You were practicallt sprinting to the finish line as everyone's fastest paces looked like light jogs next to you. Any time you were praised for your quick ability to adapt and improve your technique, you would downsize your power– it infuriated him.

The day Satoru realised you were stronger was during close combat training, it was when Suguru was still around– he was smart enough to back off when you invited him for a sparring session, this piqued Satoru's interest, how strong were you for Suguru Geto to back away from a physical fight? He was probably the best fighter when it came to close combat.

A loud "I'll take you on!" Brought both your and Suguru's attention to Satoru as he removed his uniform's jacket, throwing it aside and approaching you on the mat. "... Have we met before?" You asked.

"Only one of the two strongest sorcerer's in this dump, Satoru Gojo" He quickly introduced himself, cracking his knuckles and twisting his neck left and right getting all of the kinks out of his bones before standing infront of you. Suguru only grinned as he patted his friend's shoulder once. "Then, I'll be the referee, sound fair?"

"Nice, Suguru! Sneak in some points for me, 'kay?" Suguru scoffed. "I'm not keeping track of that."

"You two seem quite close," you pointed out, smiling at the natural banter between the two, you introduced yourself quickly and after getting the formalities out the way, you took your respective spots; you and Satoru facing each other as Suguru stood in the middle.

"Ready? And..." Suguru began, the two opponents taking a prepared stance. The curse manipulator waited a beat (both to build up anticipation and to mess with his best friend). Then...

"Start!"

Satoru had evaded once blow from you then tried to land another, not even two moves after that he was pinned to the ground with his arm twisted behind his back, that was the first time he tasted defeat. His embarrassed reddened face was more clear now that his glasses had slipped off of his face when he was so confident he didn't even need to take them off, Suguru kneeled down next to you and hummed "oh, did I mention that she's pretty much the strongest around here? Oopsie~"

"Quit laughing and help me up!" After you allowed Suguru to take a commemorative photo, you helped him up, and he dusted himself off as the tips of his ears turned pink. You found this mystery stranger amusing. "Gojo, was it? I think we'll get along fine!"

Satoru didn't know why but his heart skipped a beat, at that moment he thought he has some kind of attraction towards those who are stronger than him (which were a scarce few), but that theory would be debunked as he simply realised it was only love at first sight.

"You kidding me? After that beat down, just call me Satoru!"

You in fact, did not call him Satoru after that, but you eventually came around after multiple instances of either saving him, guiding him, giving advice and if he tried hard enough you would give him small glimpses of your vulnerable side (it was only fair, he was always vulnerable with you!), yet the closer he wanted to be with you, the farther away you seemed; it worsened after Suguru left. The stage of the strongest sorcerers dwindled.

he watched as he hobbled away from the scene on Shoko's shoulder, you made it just in time as Satoru received a blow to his back– the curse's level proved too high for him to handle by himself. Everytime Satoru watched you fight or use your technique, he felt his admiration grow for you (not that he would ever admit admiring anyone else), outside of combat he would shoot playful comments to you and you would actually return them– you didn't yell at him like Utahime or roll your eyes like Shoko, you seemed genuinely happy to be talking to him.

The book of mental notes about you in his head gets thicker and thicker with every interaction, Satoru can dissect any aspect about you and explain what he loves about it in detail, what he loves about you.

"Is he okay?" He was brought out of his thoughts when your voice reached his ears. He laid on one of the two beds available in the infirmary, and Shoko greeted you at the door.

"Yeah, it's nothing major– he didn't say a word since he got here, though.." Shoko turned to look at Satoru, an unsettled expression on her features. "He's never gone this long without babbling.."

"Im a traumatised survivor, I'm processing my fear and intense emotions!" Satoru sat up, hissing through the laugh as he joked. He made eye contact with you; his saviour. You simply huffed out a chuckle. "You must be getting stronger if you can joke around after that."

"Not as strong as you." He quickly shot back with a grin, Satoru had long accepted the fact that you were stronger, you had more stamina, more cursed energy, and you had a good head on your shoulders.

"Shoko, you go relax– I'm sure taking care of this baby took a lot out of you." Satoru pouted, Shoko laughed and nodded, patting you once on the shoulder."He's good to go. He just needs bed rest for now, just toss him in his dorm room!"

Satoru didn't know if he wanted to curse out Shoko or thank her, he had your attention to himself now as you helped him limp back to his dorm room– you were so close to him all he could smell was your scent, all he could feel was your hands on him, so secure so he wouldn't fall and yet he hoped you wouldn't feel his pulse quickening.

It was quiet, and for once, Satoru was content with that as long as he was near you. "Satoru? You've been quiet this whole time..." You pointed out casually, your tone concerned as your expression seemed serene, calm even. He grinned at you, tipping his head down to look around you through his scratched shades. "What? you worried about me? Sheesh, take me out on a date while you're at it!"

You laughed almost uncomfortably, although he didn't pick up on it. Reaching his dorm room and letting you in, he flopped down onto his bed and groaned loudly. "Do you need anything else? I'm going to go now." That got him to sit up

"Alrea- ow?!" He hissed as his leg throbbed in pain. You winced and watched him, Satoru looked up at you with an expression akin to angry confusion, but you knew it was mostly his irritation to the pain. "But.. why? C'mon, what's the rush? You can stay with me for a while!" He patted the spot next to him on his bed, grinning at you.

A chime resonated. You took out your phone, and your expression dropped. "I'm sorry, Satoru. I kinda have a date."

"... huh?" He asked you as he tilted his head, genuinely confused. You, in turn, tilted your head back at him. ".. didn't I tell you?"

"Tell me, wha? It's just plans, right? It's not an actual date." Satoru waved off his worry, laying back on his bed and resting his hands behind his head."It's not like we can date anyone. The strongest just can't risk themselves like that!" Which is why he believes you two would be the perfect power couple– He's strong, he'd be fine! He just needed you.

"... Satoru, I am seeing someone." You finally revealed, you watched his reaction intently, it was almost comical; his eyes peeked over the rim of his shades as he tipped his head down once again, staying still for a moment before slowly sitting up until he was in a proper enough sitting position for this conversation.

".. what do you mean?" He asked with a deeper tone. He was clearly shocked– resisting asking the question 'How dare you? How selfish can you be?' You're seeing someone, and it's not him.

You're dating someone, and it's not him.

"I thought you knew," you started. "I really thought Shoko told you -"

"Shoko knows?!" You were silenced quickly by his sudden shouting, you weren't stupid or naive, you suspected Satoru harbored romantic feelings for you but you didn't think he would burst like this; especially to you, his tone was always so sweet and playful to you– sometimes even vulnerable. You were never on the receiving end of his shouting.

You didn't answer, what were you supposed to say? Apologise? You did not owe him an apology for falling in love. You certainly don't owe him an apology for not returning his feelings. Satoru continued. "We can't love like normal people– WE have to stick together!" He almost tripped getting up, gripping your shoulders too tightly for your comfort. "I'm stronger than any stupid curse or curse user! Stronger than any other sorcerer! I'm the perfect person for you!"

You almost couldn't believe these audacious words you were hearing, as Satoru screamed at you, his glasses slid down his nose showing you the glint of tears as the tip of his nose began to redden with his cheeks; you didn't know if it was from anger, sadness or both.

"Satoru- please calm down." You held his wrist, trying to bring him back to reality. He grew angrier as you continued speaking. "Just because we're strong doesn't mean we have to shut ourselves out from the world– you need to understand."

He wanted to kiss you just so you would stop talking, so you would forget all about that stupid partner of yours and instead become drunk with the feeling of him. He knew you had the power to kill him easily if he did that.

"Please– I guarantee you, whoever they are, I love you more than they do." He wouldn't listen. "I should be - WE should be together!" His shaky hands moved to hold yours closely, shoving them at his chest. You were thrown off by how fast his heart was beating.

"You feel that? This is what you do to me!" Desperation was evident in his voice as it cracked at the end of his sentence. You ripped your hands away from him. You've had enough.

"Stop it! You're acting like a child!" You couldn't reason with him. Logic wouldn't get through. "We don't have any obligation to be together! I'm strong enough to protect those I love!"

"So why won't you love me?! You can save your energy -" his hand landed on his chest "-with me! I don't need protection! I JUST NEED YOU!" Entitlement, love, anger– all his emotions came crashing onto him as he watched your expression contort with anger at his behaviour, he's sure he sounded insane but it doesn't matter, he could see that you refused to have him– for the sake of some weakling that couldn't even compare to him.

"They're just some pathetic civilian, aren't they?!" His accusations crawled under your skin and boiled your blood, what did he know? "Someone who would die against a grade 3 curse or whatever! I'm right, aren't I?!"

You wanted to shout back, to slap him even– you restrained yourself, you didn't get to where you are now by killing whoever disagreed with you, he wasn't on par with you– no one was. Your partner was your comfort in this lonely world of your relentless pursuit of strength. Looking at Satoru right now, you realised only they could provide that comfort for you.

Not Satoru.

"... you're being delusional, Gojo" ... huh? Gojo? Who's that? His heart plummeted into his stomach as pure disbelief and disgust oozed from your words.

He couldn't ask for you to repeat his name as he saw you turn and hurriedly walk out of his room. "Wai-WAIT!" It took him a moment to find his voice, another to blink away the tears, one more to lose his footing as the pain took this chance to ruin any opportunity he had of stopping you, he stumbled to the cold floor and couldn't catch himself or you in time.

"(Name)- waitwait! Please!" You didn't turn back. After everything he said to you, there was no way you knew Satoru anymore. This wasn't Satoru. This was some entitled brat from the Gojo clan.

He was glad you didn't see how pathetically fragile he looked from this dull injury, straining to get up and at least sit on his knees– another part of his mind hoped you stayed to look at him, crying and sniffling as he mumbled your name weakly on his dorm room's floor, maybe then you would have pitied him and agreed to at least go on a date with him.

Satoru always thought you were fated to be lovers. Now, he was reduced to his burden of being the strongest of the Gojo clan. He was over the moon when you two were close enough to use your first names. Now, he was back to being a stranger because of a selfish fantasy.

[cheralith]

‘vogue’ happened on my ‘for you’ page suddenly yesterday night, but only now i had the time to properly check it out and enjoy it. i’m a big fan of ‘the devil wears Prada’ too, so spotting the details and cameos you added in it was really fun for me, i smiled all the time while reading it! that’s how much i enjoyed reading it! <3

i’m not a person to leave such a long comment on a fic unless it’s ao3, and i didn’t want to cloak in or occupy your comment section with a bulky comment such as this TT so i figured that leaving this message here was the right choice. please bear with me (and you don’t have to answer! i’m already grateful if you read this comment, truly!) because i absolutely loved it. for the sake of being brief, i’ll focus on the last scene but everything of this work was truly a masterpiece that i’ll come back to —i’ll stay tune it since you say it will be a series!

It's so... fresh. Your glasses were hiding such a view, like curtains to a window that unveiled the utmost rare and breathtaking sights. […] Geto studies it like an artist to a blank canvas, devoid of anything yet holding just the perfect amount of space-wanting, waiting to be filled with anything and everything.

omg… the way i absolutely folded! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ i loved the way you described here because —and maybe here is my sleepy head talking— the way is written really makes you understand just how focused geto is on y/n. the way he greedily yet patiently takes his time to study the face, the delicate way you described it… weak to my knees ! absolutely weak to my knees !

He eyes how you turn towards the building one more time, doing your usual adjustment of your glasses (it's a habit you often do in times of nervousness, he's picked up) […]

it’s kind of embarrassing how i was smirking here because sir… did you just implicitly affirmed that you do look at y/n?? it was such a nice detail to read because it implies that he does look at her enough time to link the action to a proper feeling, an expression of sorts. but maybe i’m just looking too much into it?? maybe i’m saying nonsense?? i don’t care, i’m delulu and sleepy!! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

i don’t want to take any more space (it’s just a sentence after all) but i absolutely loved the way you described how geto felt ‘irritated’ from the ‘hauting’ image of y/n’s face in his mind! it was a nice touch! now on my last point —and then i’ll disappear on thin air!

It’s instead, the person that’s wearing it. Because somehow, the eerie sketch of the model's face that he had drawn years ago...... somehow replicates your own face perfectly.

that was a very good cliffhanger. as a (somewhat) writer too i can only imagine and theorize the hard work you’re probably doing for this story —the behind of the scenes basically, and if you wanted readers to stand on their tiptoes and get curious about a possible plot twist (it’s called like this right? my first language isn’t english TT) … let me tell you, you absolutely nailed it! because i’m both standing on my tiptoes with my jaw on the floor.

i can’t wait to see what you have in store for this ff because you got me hooked. and the last part only further points to a possible connection between suguru and y/n which i can’t wait to discover more about! even though they both don’t seem to realize as of now —well, actually now geto does but just to a superficial extent, thanks to that sketch.

i’m sorry for the long comment because sometimes i feel like i’m saying nonsense and repeat myself over and over again so it might come off as annoying or rude TT god or whoever was on charge really didn’t blessed me with the power of synopsis, which i can only apologize for. just thank you for writing this, it was really good and i can’t wait to read more from you! thank you and take care of yourself!! i’ll patiently wait and, once you’ll feel ready to update a second part, i’ll be here reading it and enjoying it! (/genuine, no pressure! in this household we appreciate the hard work writers put in their works and respect their time ofc!)

have a good day/night ! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ 💗

one of the things i absolutely struggle with is just writing too much and on my end, it seems a little tricky and questionable, but for those on the other sides of things, it just means more cake for them and this very much applies to comments as well, so anonnie, NEVER apologize for long comments!!!! it shows your appreciation for the work and as someone who's on the receiving end for it, i hold so much love for comments like these!!! and your english is nothing less of wonderful!!!

i was praying someone would catch the little glasses bit! it's been the little motif i had incorporated in the first chapter as a symbol of the reader's shield from the new world of her work so i was pretty proud of blending it into the chapter. it also ties in with suguru finally noticing our little assistant for more than just a coatrack—just the first stepping stone of what i have planned for these two huehue •̀⩊•́

other than that, thank you again for enjoying my writing and i'll treasure ur kind comments dearly <33!

[ohimsummer]

TROUBLEMAKER ft. CAT! STSG AU

— cat! au (gojo + geto), afab! reader, shoko cameo, stsg cat shenanigans, crack, some explicit language, gojo is the most annoying and insufferable he’s ever been ever (/affectionate)

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ part 1! finally got around 2 finishing this :3 idk about satoru yet but suguru is a fluffy oriental shorthair in my head. no I will not debate this ♡

wc 4.2k

“They’re…cats…?”

There’s an incessant sound of scribbling on Shoko’s clipboard. Her voice is almost drowned out by a white feline’s cries for your attention. “Yup.”

The other cat, the black one—Suguru, apparently—lies content in your arms, purring into your chest as you thread through long, sleek fur. A voice nags at the back of your mind that petting him is a little peculiar, but his hair is like silk. You can’t help it.

Satoru, ever the asshole, batted away all your efforts to pet him, and is now left in his regret to wander circles around your ankles. Angry, dilated pupils never leave Geto—who remains blissfully indifferent—as Gojo paws at your feet to be rewarded even a glance.

“It’s the side effect of a cursed spirit. I’m assuming it went ‘whoosh’ and they went ‘psshhh’.” Shoko makes a shrinking motion with her hands. “And now they’re cats.”

A frown weighs down your lips at her lackluster explanation. “I don’t think I understand—”

“Anyway, it should wear off in a couple days.” Her pen swivels in your direction, eyes steady trained on her paperwork. “You gonna need my help buying supplies?”

“Huh—!” The words choke up in your throat. “Why are they coming with me?”

Shoko finally spares you a glance, an audacious look as if you asked something idiotic. “Oh, please, you really think they’d be happier staying with me? Besides, I don’t wanna do it. Duh.”

There’s also the unspoken assumption that she wants the apartment to herself for a couple days. Or to have Utahime over in peace but, ultimately, you’ll be stuck catering to this feline duo.

“God, I—, fine.”

The journey back to your place is going smoothly, save for when Gojo conveniently decides to figure-8 between your steps. Or stop in front of every sweets shop to blink his giant, round cat eyes at you over his miniature sunglasses.

“He’s so cute!,” a passing older lady stops to fawn over him. “Look at him and his little glasses, how adorable!”

And you just offer up a grin, afraid to dip a toe into this awkward small talk as if Gojo has always been this talkative, adorable kitty—knowing just yesterday he had you in a headlock over not sharing your own dessert with him. You also don’t want to be susceptible to any related teasing whenever they turn back, brushing off her comments with forced laughter as you continue onwards.

Gojo lags behind, responding to the woman with some proud cat noises before running ahead to reach your side again. Unfortunately, right on his heels is this persistent older lady.

You can hear her firing off a barrage of questions and statements: “What’s his name? Is he a Persian? I have a little gal at home that looks just like him!”

It’s a struggle not to roll your eyes. Sure, her chatter is innocent, but you don’t want to be bothered. Besides, these are not some childhood pets accompanying you on an errand—they’re two, 6-foot-tall boys in feline bodies, primed to snag onto any questionable comment you make as ammo to bully you in the future.

“His name is Gojo. Not sure of his breed. I just got him.”

Uninterested tone, closed-off body language, pace picking up—none of it seems to be enough to deter her.

“He looks so nurtured!”

Said he looks cranky and tired, legs a blur as Gojo runs to keep your pace. He growls out obvious complaints, nipping and clawing at your ankles to slow you down.

“You must be such a wonderful cat momma to him! I bet he’d make some pretty babies—“

Suguru makes a stuttered, breathy noise in your ear, an amused chuff that must be his cat version of laughter.

An incoming crosswalk threatens to leave you at the mercy of her conversation. Your eyes are trained on the mocking, red hand, the one thing that prevents you from booking it to the other side of the street.

You’re forced to slow down as you draw nearer to the heap of people awaiting the signal change.

Her “Could I get a picture of him?” sends a shudder down your spine. Perhaps jaywalking would grant you a ticket out of this.

The crossing icon switches right before you’re forced to a complete stop, and a sigh of relief escapes as you maneuver through a confused crowd. Mutters of apology are left in your trail of dust, along with the ear-catching clamors of a white kitty.

You only peep behind you for a brief second, Suguru’s ticklish fur floating around in your nose, and you spot the lady getting swept away by the wave of ongoers. Her voice is lost beneath the sea, a camera-yielding hand flailing above unbothered heads.

Geto flicks a bushy, dark tail over your face, thoroughly getting hair on your tongue this time around. You’re about to turn and scold him before skidding to a halt right before colliding with a large, metal pole.

His white-furred partner is not so lucky, though he only makes an abrupt faceplant into the back of your lower calves. Gojo plops back on his rear, giving a low meow as he uses a paw to straighten his crooked sunglasses.

“Thanks, Suguru” you mutter, and he flicks an ear in response, continuing to guard his spot on your shoulder for the remainder of the journey. Geto is mostly silent, save for the occasional silky mew to either grab your attention or get his explorative friend in line.

Upon entrance to your apartment building, Satoru only seems to grow more unruly. He leaps onto the front desk, spitting sharp grievances as you gather him up and layer apologies to the worker behind the counter. Suguru makes sure to land a few light warning taps on his head, almost slipping off your shoulder when Gojo retaliates with his own irated slaps. The scene of you tottering into the elevator while also breaking up a literal cat fight makes for quite the show for the few people in the lobby.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands pretty full, eh?,” a man chuckles, arm held over the elevator doors so you may stumble inside.

“I don’t—stop it, you two—know what I’m gonna do with them,” you sigh, and he replies with a sympathetic head shake.

The doors ease shut, and then what should have been a short trip to your room is prolonged when Gojo decides he wants to swat at the buttons. Now, on top of stopping at floors where there are actual people waiting, you’re stuck visiting six others that he and his mischievous paws have so chosen. And also forced into more awkward interactions of people complimenting your wonderful animal caretaking skills.

“The black one is so well-behaved.,” a young brunette fawns. She raises a hand to scratch under Suguru’s chin, face falling in embarrassment when he pulls away from her. “O-oh, I’m sorry.”

You can’t tell if she’s apologizing to you or him.

A short cough disguises your giggle, and you inform her, “Ah, it’s fine, he’s just weary of other people.”

She seems reassured at your words, glancing at a wriggling Satoru in your grasp. “He doesn’t look too interested in being pet, either, haha.”

Gojo weighs heavy in your arms, and you readjust to get a better grip on him, ignoring his meows of complaint. “Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole—“mrrow!”—and he might scratch, so I’d advise against it.”

A shy grin spreads on her lips, and then the girl is exiting the lift, waving goodbye to you and the two kitties.

Upon reaching your own floor, Gojo zooms out into the hallway, vocalizations echoing in the empty corridor. Geto remains carefully seated on your shoulder, leaning onto your head and surely leaving strands of cat fur in your own hair. The white cat speeds ahead until he arrives at your door, and then immediately begins another cacophony of loud meows, seemingly in an effort to rush you.

“Satoru, be quiet!”, you whisper-shout at him from down the hall. The words are barely audible in your own ears over the sound of his impatient yells.

They only die down once your keys enter the lock, and Gojo slithers inside the second the door is cracked, Geto not far behind as he leaps from his anchor point. You roll the joint in a circle—he’s so cute as a little parrot on your shoulder, but the lack of weight is a welcome relief.

“Jeez, Suguru, you’re kinda heavy.” The obvious offense in his low ‘mrow?’ makes you giggle. “I’m gonna get changed and then I’ll make dinner after. Be right back!”

There’s a pitter patter of steps, and Gojo is sidling up next to you for your upstairs trip. He pounces onto the bed, watching as you grab a shirt (his) off a chair at your desk, and a pair of leggings from the closet. Geto resides at the top of the stairs to supervise, ready to intervene should his idiot other half start causing more trouble.

With the clothes in your hands, your next stop is the bathroom, though you halt in the vacant doorway with Gojo right on your heels.

“Ummmm…,” you scoff a laugh as blue eyes blink up at you. “Satoru, you’re not watching me change.”

He replies a conjoined, high-pitched ‘mrow-row?’, not making an effort to move. Geto strolls over and bats at his fluffy, white rear, an unamused look in his violet eyes. While Gojo turns to defend his haunches, you giggle a ‘Thanks, Suguru!’ for the second time and disappear into the bathroom, promptly ignoring the dull smack of a paw and a loud hiss as your hip bumps the door shut.

A white head snaps in your direction upon your reappearance. Gojo trots forward to greet you, bushy tail straight up in a friendly gesture. His calmer counterpart is nowhere to be found when a flash of black catches your attention, and you spot Geto balanced on the railing of your bedroom.

“Keepin’ an eye on Satoru?” You realize you’re talking to him in somewhat of a babified pet voice, but he doesn’t seem to mind, only purring happily as you scratch a finger under his chin.

Someone doesn’t like that, and your hand rapidly recoils as an angry Gojo steadies on his hind legs, shouting angry yowls and hisses and furiously slamming a paw at any part of Geto he can reach, sending the black cat plummeting off the railing and you hear him land on the level below with a loud thud.

“Satoru Gojo!” Named cat looks back at you like he didn’t just essentially push Suguru to his doom. “You’re gonna behave in my house, sir, or I’m sending you back to Shoko!” He opens his mouth to complain, but you cut off Gojo’s meow with another scolding. “Nah ah, I don’t want to hear it! Don’t start trouble or it’s to the shelter, ya hear?”

His ears flatten back, expression akin to what you can only describe as intense worry, and Gojo grants you a final, pleading meow as he stands again, front paws against your leg. You reach down to pet behind his little ears, and he leans a fuzzy head into your palm, tail swishing as the rumbling in his throat grows louder.

“You’re such a baby.”, comes your gentle coo as Satoru’s lids ease shut. “Could’ve asked for pets way better than that.”

You only reward his bad behavior for a moment. The caress of your hand stops far too soon for Gojo’s liking, and he’s right behind to follow you back down to the first floor. Geto meets you halfway, looking behind you and leaving you to continue on interrupted. There’s the sharp sound of a ‘smack!’ and a pair of tiny, blue sunglasses tumble past to land at the bottom of the stairs.

“Ah, ah! Satoru, get down!”

The guilty feline goes skedaddling off the countertops, casting Geto an envious glare as he scampers to sit right at the threshold where your kitchen meets the living room.

Your eyes narrow at him, suspicious and distrustful, before returning to your cooking under Geto’s careful examination from the marble surface. His tiny nose livens up at the savory smells wafting around the kitchen, pink tongue darting over a furry mouth as he curiously eyes the fried rice in the pan.

The delicious scent of cooked meat creeps up his nostrils, and Geto turns to eye his slice of the chicken breast you’ve so graciously blessed him with. It’s only partially nibbled on so a third of it still remains, but if Satoru had his way, both he and Suguru’s servings of the meat would have long since been given a home in his endless stomach. It’s why your gaze keeps traveling around the room. You’re keeping tabs on Gojo and his greedy whereabouts.

Speak of the devil—barely two minutes later and the snowy thief is back. His shrill meows pierce your eardrums, restless paws tracing steps between your feet, scurrying behind your couch when he almost trips you only to eventually return when your scowl has disappeared.

The air of your apartment feels happy, jubilant. It’s so serene considering these two are in the same room together. Just the sizzle of food, the background noise of the television, and Gojo’s constant yowling for any smidge of your attention—though it feels domestic in a way if you don’t think too hard on the fact that it’s Satoru. Maybe there’s also the quiet sounds of chewing whenever Geto decides he wants another bite of his chicken.

The hassle comes whenever you turn your head and Gojo makes his move, leaping onto the counter to cause havoc. His troublemaking comes in a plethora of ways, but his favorites seem to be taking a bite out of Suguru or attempting to steal whatever leftover scraps are in his sight. His sneaky plans are foiled by the black cat either wrestling him back onto the floor or meowing an alarm so that the Gods (you) may banish Satoru from the kitchen once again.

Matters are only made worse when you offer Suguru a piece of egg from your now-finished dinner, and the exiled, white cat screeches in a show of utter betrayal.

“Oh my god, Satoru.” You pluck another chunk of poultry from the skillet, kneeling to present it in your palm. “Here.”

Suguru’s eyes narrow at his dramatic feline partner, ears twisted back and dropped to flatten against his head as the tip of his black tail flicks back and forth.

Gojo pads over. His pink nose looks adorable, scrunched up as he sniffs your hand for a second or two before licking his lips, and then he snatches the cooked egg from your hand and scurries off. There’s a large sigh behind you; Geto gives you a half-lidded eye-roll from his new spot at the edge of the counter, before voicing a short ‘mroh’.

You grin at him. “He’s such a goofball, isn’t he?” ‘Mrow-ow’.

With your meal finally ready and a grumbling stomach, you curl up on the couch, bowl of oyakodon in hand. The movie playing on the tv is boring, and also halfway done so it doesn’t hold an ounce of your interest. Even so, you try not to notice the pair of blue eyes peeking at you over the coffee table.

Ignoring Satoru and his hungry gaze makes for a far more entertaining game. The tip of his bushy, white tail is visible from where you sit, swaying side to side as Gojo eyes your bowl of food.

“You’re not getting any, Satoru, you’ve already eaten most of the kitchen, today.”

‘MrraAAH!’ He lets loose a dramatic scream, squinting sky blues at you.

Gojo’s so focused on vacuuming up any possible crumbs that he doesn’t notice the black shadow creeping up behind him. It’s not until Suguru paws at his snowy-colored fur that his cerulean eyes turn towards him. They hold each other’s gaze before Geto ducks out of your sight, and soon Gojo with him. There’s a sound of scuffling, someone’s frantic meows, and then the white kitty skids into view with Geto pinning him down, both wrestling as he tries to sink teeth into Satoru’s back.

You take another nonchalant bite of food. “Get his ass, Suguru.”

Gojo’s continual wriggling finally grants him freedom from the black feline’s clutches. You watch in amusement as he flees the scene, Geto hot on his tail. Satoru goes careening around the corner of the coffee table, nails scraping your hardwood floors so he’s stuck gliding like a cartoon character before disappearing from view; Suguru takes a more parkour-ish approach, rebounding off the wall and he goes flying into his target if the following ‘thud’ and ‘MRAH!’ is of any indication.

A late-evening shopping trip wasn’t on the schedule for today, but there was an unfortunate flaw in today’s system: the call of nature for your two new kitties.

Your original plan was to get everything tomorrow. Cat food and bedding could be improvised for tonight, and Satoru was enough entertainment for he and Suguru together. One thing had slipped your mind until you found the two causing a racket atop your closed toilet—a litter box.

One quick trip later, and now you’re back home arranging their little tray, pouring the grey pebbles inside and hiding it on a mat in the corner of your living room where they could have more privacy.

“There ya go!” Your hands fall to your hips, looking proudly over your work. The two large cats stand on either side of you, glancing between you, each other, and their new bathroom. “Go on, now, don’t be shy.”

Satoru grants you an offended glare over his shades, while Suguru turns and walks away entirely, the tip of his tail flicking in annoyance.

“Hey, I went through the trouble to go out and get this thing for you two and this is how you repay me?” Satoru nips at your leg in response. “Ow! Stop that! Fine, hold it then, but you two better not do your business on my floors.”

Though they seemed adamant about not going in the litter box, you can see the idea nudging its way into their little heads as the urge to go grows stronger with time. You catch them sneaking glances at their designated corner, easing closer and closer to the box. Suguru sniffs at the entrance before leaving it again. Satoru apparently thinks keeping his back to it will make his need to use it go away.

“Mrooww!”, Geto voices to you, clawing at your front door.

You sigh at him. “Suguru, just use the litterbox.”

He produces a sound between a meow and a low growl, still showcasing his irritation with flat ears and a swaying tail.

“Is it too little? You two want something bigger? Or two separate litter boxes? Either way, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow because it’s late out and I’m not walking you all the way to the park for this.”

“Mroh..?”

Arms fold beneath your chest. “And you’re not going by yourself, either.”

Gojo circles your legs, letting out a low chuff. No doubt this is amusing to him. His pouty friend sighs and struts away like a stubborn child, hissing as Satoru bats at his lowered tail and leaving to hide somewhere in your room.

You move on with your nightly duties—tidying up your kitchen, putting away leftovers, keeping an eye out for the shenanigans of a white-haired feline. Maybe twenty minutes have passed, and you suddenly hear the scritch-scratch of litter being tossed around.

From the corner of your eye, you see a bundle of black whisps protruding from the entrance of the box. It’s not any of your business until you have to clean the thing out. For now, you’re just content he’s using it and not tampering with the health of his liver.

Then, through your peripherals, Gojo pops up next to the box, sitting just outside of it. He peeks inside, meowing, and jolts back as a black paw reaches out to slap him away. There’s an exchange of curious cat noises and irate yowls, before a screech echos from the litter box and you rush over to break up their impending battle.

“Satoru—,” you snatch him away, spitting out clouds of his shedding, white hair,”—give him some privacy, damn.”

You heave Gojo and his massive self up your stairs throughout another set of his meowed complaints, watch as he cranes his head at the sound of more scratching litter.

“Why are you being a pervert trying to watch him pee?”, comes your exasperated question.

He wriggles expertly in your arms, instantly escaping your grasp around his upper body and goes fleeing downstairs no doubt to harass Geto again.

It’s the end of the day. You’re over it for tonight. “GET UP HERE.”

His swift steps and the scraping of litter both halt at the tone and base of your voice.

Satoru turns his shiny, blue eyes to you, head slightly lowered in shame like a child who knows they’ve angered their mom. He turns-tail, creeping back up the stairs with cautious steps. Once he reaches your side, blacks of his eyes wide and round, he gives you a squeaked ‘mrow…?’.

Geto peeks around the corner to peer up the steps at the sudden commotion, retreating when he sees your crossed arms and the fed-up taps of your foot.

“Up the stairs. Now.” Gojo skitters past you without a second thought. “You two, Suguru, let’s go. It’s bedtime.”

A short pause, and then he comes trotting up to the second floor, tail raised straight up and he gives a flurry of bright meows as he obeys your command.

They’re both on the bed by the time you travel the remaining few steps to your bedroom. Both sit side-by-side, obedient and still and awaiting your next move.

“I’m gonna finish my routine. Don’t you two start any trouble while I’m busy, ya hear?”

A harmonized ‘mrrow!’.

“Good boys.” You clap your hands together with a grin. “Now get ready for bed.”

“Satoru, you can’t sleep there.”

While Geto has, of course, chosen a more ideal, comfier spot for bedtime near the edge of your bed, his counterpart takes a more…spacious approach. They’re both rather large cats, so him laying sprawled out on his back, smack-dab in the center in a spread-eagle is not the most suitable place for Gojo to slumber.

Your words elicit no reaction from him—not besides the flick of his ear, anyway. Geto’s tail swishes from side to side, a tell that he’s about to bop Gojo with a harsh paw to the face and a hiss. And he does just that, but it seems Gojo has caught on as he grabs hold of the furry black arm with his paws. You watch the duo wrestle as he tries to sink fangs into Geto’s shoulder. They’re like toddlers fighting over a toy, and the scene just elicits a shake of your head in defeated amusement at their childish antics.

He’s got Gojo pinned to the bed, the latter bunny-kicking his hind legs in futile efforts to shove Geto off him, before they both go tumbling onto the floor, breaking up their little quarrel. The two scurry off in opposite directions, Geto under the bed and Gojo into the open door of your bathroom. Two loud thumps. Your butt hasn’t even hit the mattress before the sound of things falling catch your ears.

“Satoru…?,” you call out, disappointment evident in your tone. A second passes before his purred 'mrrr?' and you feel Geto’s whiskers brush your bare ankles as he peeks from his hiding spot. “Did you break something in there?” More silence, and then the smallest, cutest squeak followed by a blue eye that peeks around the corner.

Walking into the bathroom, you’re not met with completely heinous results. He must’ve ricocheted off the walls to make such a mess in such few seconds. Your toothpaste and a few makeup products are spilled onto the floor, and Satoru approaches with your toothbrush carried in his teeth. Hands on your hips and a brow quirked, you just take it and make a mental note to get a new one in the morning.

“Alright.” The sound of your double claps echo off the tile. “Out. Both of you.” And off they go.

It takes a few extra minutes to clean up Gojo’s small mess, and bedtime this time around is easier when a large white cat isn’t trying to take up majority of the bed. You settle beneath the sheets, Suguru curling up on the other, unoccupied pillow this time, and Satoru so graciously plops down to lay on the curve of your back.

“Comfy now?,” you crane your neck to address the cat whose head rests at the incline of your ass. He murmurs a low meow in return, and you turn to Suguru, who’s eyes are the only thing you can see in the darkness. “And you?” The subtle sound of purring emits from his throat.

“Okay. G’night, you two.” And you are lulled off to sleep with their low, harmonious rumbling.

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