#gojo satouru

[onedeadlycookiee]

I finally finished this drawing for a school project or whatever that's called! :D

It should be done for Wednesday, and since I already finished I have tomorrow to just check again in case I can upgrade something.

Also, the material I used during this whole process was a 3B for the pencil, an A3 paper and a random rubber for the highlights.

I hope you guys like this and if I have any news or upgrades done I'll be posting them here.

(I didn't calculate the exact time I've been on this drawing but I would say between 8-10 hours)

[lees-chaotic-brain-reblogs]

oh my god how is he so gorgeous

day 61 of drawing gojo every day until he comes back - figure skater au

[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

For Your Prince

Prince! Gojo x Servant! Reader Smut

warnings: Smut, Porn without plot, Slight Dubious Consent, Abuse of power, Caught Mausterbating, cum eating, Oral (M Recieving), hair pulling, Mean! Gojo, gagging, i think that’s it?? please let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1294

A/N: First official post and it’s Gojo smut hooray! I’ve had this idea floating around for a bit through so putting it down feels good. Hope you enjoy~

MDNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

The sounds of birds chirping was all you heard as you walked the long stretch of hallway ahead of you.

The morning light was still barely filtering through the windows, casting small shadows along the walls of the large cherry blossoms in the courtyard.

Your gaze shifted outside as you walked, a small sigh escaping your mouth at the thought of being able to breathe in fresh air for once instead of castle dust.

You brushed the thought off as you approached your goal: Prince Satouru’s chambers. You’d only recently been promoted to his personal servant, and included in your new job description was waking the prince for breakfast.

This, of course, was utterly terrifying to you, a young woman who’d only been a mere maid up until Satoru’s last servant had been fired- the details of which you’re still not sure of.

The gossip (as unreliable it was it was really all you had to go off of) around the situation had been a hot topic. According to the chambermaid, Gojo had tried to flirt with the servant, only to be rejected.

The one rule you knew since promoting, an absolute under no circumstances, do you ever reject Gojo Satoru.

Gathering your strength, you brushed off the dust from your apron, braced yourself, and lightly knocked on the door.

“My lord, breakfast is ready,” You called out. A moment passed and you didn’t hear anything. You bit your lip and knocked again, slightly louder this time. “My lord?”

Again, the other side was quiet. You debated on leaving him to sleep. A sleepy Satoru was an angry Satoru and you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.

But, then again, you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of King Sakuna’s wrath either for not getting Satoru up on time. So, without much further protest, you grabbed the door handle and twisted it open.

“My lord, I’m sorry for coming in, but-“

You stopped in your tracks.

There, laying on the bed, was your prince. He laid naked with one arm propped up behind his head, and the other wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping out his cum.

He’d just cum.

You’d barged in on your prince masterbating.

Quickly, you turned around, your face heating up in embarrassment.

“M-My Lord, I-I’m so very sorry! I don’t know what possessed me to enter unannounced. I’ll leave immediately.”

Your hand gripped tightly around the door handle again before a raspy voice called out your name.

“Don’t leave yet. I need you to clean this up,” Gojo said. You paused, trying to process the words.

“Sir?” You asked, turning slightly with confusion. Gojo gazed at you with utter lust. His mouth curved into a smirk and he beckoned you closer to him.

“My servant is supposed to do as I say, no? I am your prince after all,” He smiled.

You stayed motionless, a million thoughts running through your mind. Your gaze shifted down once more, looking at the glistening mess on Satoru’s abs. His cock was still hard. It was big, so large and thick and throbbing-

You looked down at your feet.

Never reject Gojo Satoru.

Slowly, you inched closer to the bed. You heard Gojo hum.

“That’s a good girl. Now clean me up. I need to be heading to breakfast,"he said.

You looked at his chest. The mess was all over his hands, running down his cock still, in his pubes, and shot up onto his stomach. You grabbed your apron and shakily placed it on his stomach first, trying to wipe up as much as you could without touching anything too exposing.

Gojo grabbed your hand. “Did I tell you to wipe me?”

You frowned, confused and slightly scared you’d taken this too far. “My Lord, I was only trying to clean you-“

“Use your tongue.”

You stopped.

You stared.

“Don’t make me force your head down, servant. I gave you an order,” Gojo said as he gripped your chin in his other hand.

Slowly, you pulled back your apron from his chest. Gojo’s smirk grew. He let go of your face and you opened your mouth. Gojo watched as you stuck your tongue out and slowly dropped your body to get closer to his chest. Your face was inches away from his abs now, from his cum.

You breathed in and finally dropped all the way down, taking in the essence of Gojo Satoru. He moaned lightly and gripped onto your hair. You ran your tongue along his body, tasting every square inch of him. Gojo pushed your head down to his pubes. You sucked and licked as he maneuvered your head. You were acting merely as a tool for his use, a personal cum rag for the Prince.

The thought made you groan.

Just as you did, Gojo pushed your head down further and against his cock. Your mouth opened on instinct and you licked up the base all the way to the tip. Gojo moaned at the sensation. His grip on your hair increased and he pulled you up slightly.

“Open your fucking mouth,” He ordered. You didn’t hesitate this time.

In an instant, your lips were wrapped around your Prince’s cock. You began to suck and lick at it as Gojo used your head for his own personal desire. He pushed up and down on your head, making you gag with each thrust.

Gojo began to moan more, his hips thrusting into your warm mouth. You sucked and gagged on his cock, gripping onto the bed sheets for any ounce of stability you could gain. Gojo continued to fuck into your mouth like a mad man, giving you no time to breath or relax your throat.

You were a toy. A play thing for him. You groaned again.

“Ah, fuck, princess don’t do that. You’ll make me finish in that pretty little mouth of yours,” Gojo laughed.

You burned at the pet name, and moaned again. Gojo cursed and pushed your head all the way down. “I think you want to be filled up with your prince’s cum. You just can’t get enough, huh? Fucking dirty servant. Only good for making her master cum. Oh, fuck that’s right baby choke on my fucking cock.”

Gojo pounded into your mouth without stopping. He held onto your hair to keep you from moving off him and his hips slammed into you like a battering ram.

You had no choice but to grip onto his sheets and let him finish. You groaned again and at that Gojo cursed aloud. “Take my fucking cum, baby,” He said and pushed your head down.

Instantly, you felt something warm and wet hit the back of your throat. You tried not to gag as Gojo moaned and came down your throat, moving your head up and down his base.

After a moment, his grip on you lessened and you were free to take your mouth off his cock. You raised up slowly, ignoring the taste of cum in your mouth. Gojo smiled at you still. You waited for him to say anything, give you another order or even possibly thank you.

Instead, he got out of bed and walked to his closet. As he grabbed a pair of trousers, he turned back to you.

“You’re free to go now, servant. That’s all I needed you for.”

You kept a tight smile. “Yes, my Lord”.

Gojo smiled and grabbed your chin again. “You might just last.”

A warm feeling spread through you at what that implied. You nodded as Gojo whipped some cum from your mouth.

The only rule you knew, never reject Satoru Gojo. You could live with that rule.

[umadxoxo]

YOU DIDN’T? [Gojo Satouru x Top!Male Reader]

You enjoyed being with Gojo - physically, emotionally. Something about his presences just brightened your mood somehow. Nanami says you were stupid enough to fall for the fool. It wasn’t true - you were not in love with Gojo, you never had been.

Maybe that’s why he chose your bed to run to on his lonely nights in the beginning. He knew you wouldn’t get attached. Part of you felt like you should be in love with the great jujitsu sorcerer, that you should feel like you could never live without him. And you can only recall one time in your younger years when you caught yourself coming close to calling your arrangement ‘love’.

You had found Satoru in your apartment that night, clearly waiting for you. You had been happy to see him - as always. You were about to offer to make dinner for the two of you. He had your clothes stripped before you could even close the door behind you. You both ended up in a tangle of limbs on the floor. Gojo seemed more desperate that usually that day, bucking hip into your thigh while you fingered his gaping hole. You had kissed him in that reassuring way he liked - he had told you once that it made him feel wanted. You did want him. His whimpers muffled in your shoulder as you entered him. You left a trail of kisses down his neck as you thrust in and out at a torturous pace.

Satoru was fast approaching his first orgasm, a loud string of curses leaving his mouth. Then, the name of his best friend. Your kisses paused, briefly, and it was all the confirmation that Gojo needed to know his mistake didn’t slip past you. You continued though, fucking him through his first climax and a couple more by the end of the night.

You didn’t love Gojo - Gojo didn’t love you. You’re only glad that you got clarity of what your sleepless nights together meant to him before you had actually loved him. You never brought up what he said, neither did he. It was a unspoken rule between that Suguru’s name was never mentioned. His absence left scars that Gojo would never be able to cover. You sympathized with that in a way.

Things did change after that night though, the way you two parted ways in the afterglow of sex. Before, you had escorted Gojo to shower and held the man under the stream of warm water, helping empty him of your cum, then you would soak in the bath together. You had always made sure he had a warm bed to sleep in and that he was fed and happy. Your touches were..softer. You whispered sweet things to him in the frenzy of sex, running your fingers through his hair and kissing him sweetly. You did things together on your off days when you could - things that didn’t always involve sex. You brought him sweet treats randomly because you knew that’s what he liked. It enjoyed doing all that - you enjoyed spoiling him. You’re not sure if anyone else ever had. But it became clear that those little things were what was making you slip - it was complicating your feelings.

So you stopped doing those things.

Now, you fucked him. You didn’t let him face you anymore during sex because you quickly learned that Gojo enjoyed kissing during sex and it wasn’t just you being delusional. Despite the whines and teary eyes Gojo gives you, you didn’t want to kiss anymore. It felt wrong in a way it didn’t before. Gojo didn’t come to your apartment, you went to him and left after. You came and went as you pleased and it drove him fucking crazy. He hated how things had changed between you two but was smart enough to know what triggered the change in your behavior towards him. You had other lovers on the side to warm your bed - as you’re sure Satoru did too (he didn’t). You no longer spent all your free time with him, instead opted to be around Nanami or train Yuta instead.

You pulled out, leaving a panting Gojo under you laying in his own sticky mess. You felt his eyes on you as he rolled over to watch you dress yourself. You felt stupid for almost loving Gojo. You never wanted to feel stupid again. You didn’t love Gojo - you never did. He knew that too.

[nessieartss]

Slightly comedic AU idea, at least for people not named Satouru Gojo, who's just surprised and confused. Shortly after his arrival to jujutsu tech, Yuji sees a picture of Gojo and Geto as teenagers and he first goes "Dad?" followed by turning towards Gojo in surprise with "You were friends with my dad?!" before a bit into the chaos his words just created he notes to Megumi that "He didn't have his scar back then".

That is some meta shit and i love it 😭

[sticker-mania]

New Series: Eyes that, in my opinion, are more beautiful than Satouru Gojo’s

Dorothy Unsworth

Black Clover

[queenofdragons12]

The Ichor Throne | satouru gojo.

Synopsis

A mortal queen tethers the god of chaos to her throne using forbidden blood-magic, forcing Gojo Satoru into a human vessel. Their daily "rituals" to sustain the binding spell blur the lines between domination and devotion, threatening both the celestial order and the queen’s ironclad resolve. When rebel sorcerers discover Gojo’s true power lies in his willing submission, the pair must confront whether their toxic entanglement is a cage... or the genesis of a new pantheon.

Content Breakdown

1. The Binding (Ch. 1-3)

Gojo’s divine essence forcibly merged with reader’s coronation regalia

First ritual scene: Reader using throne’s chains to "calibrate" their connection

"You want infinity? Then earn it through mortal means."

2. Crown & Chains (Ch. 4-7)

Political fallout from housing a deity

Gojo sabotaging reader’s alliances via psychic interference during state dinners

Shared dream sequences revealing his pre-sealed memories

3. Eclipse Protocol (Ch. 8-10)

Rebel attack forces reader to temporarily unleash Gojo’s powers

Post-battle vulnerability: Gojo cradling injured reader while still magically collared

"This is why gods shouldn’t kneel, little queen. Now you’ve made me care."

4. Throne of Ash (Finale)

Ultimate choice: Dissolve the bond (freeing Gojo but destroying her magic) or ascend together

Climactic ritual merging their bodies into a single cosmic entity

Word Count

CategoryCountTotal32,000 wordsSmut/Intimacy Scenes11,200 (35%)Political Maneuvering8,000 (25%)Cosmic Horror Elements6,400 (20%)Character Backstories4,800 (15%)Battle Sequences1,600 (5%)

Warnings

Graphic Non-Con (magically enforced intimacy)

Body Horror (cosmic transformations during rituals)

Power Imbalance (monarch/deity dynamic)

Psychological Manipulation

Ritualistic Self-Harm (blood magic mechanics)

The last shaft of afternoon light through your chamber's leaded windows caught the floating suitcases in golden suspension - precisely arranged diplomatic gifts hovering like obedient ghosts. You adjusted your high-necked lace collar, its starched edges scraping the healing love bite beneath. Three layers should cover it this time.

The scent hit first - bergamot and sex-damp sheets. Then the heat. Gojo's bare chest pressed against your back like a brand through the silk brocade, his morning stubble catching threads from your travelling cloak. "Please, my love," his whisper vibrated against your nape, fingers slipping beneath your belt to find still-tender skin, "don't leave me to cold sheets and colder politics."

You let him turn you - a tactical retreat. His pupils swallowed sapphire irises whole, hair a chaos of white silk across bare shoulders. The dangerous curve of his smile didn't reach the hand cradling your jaw, thumb brushing the scar he'd kissed better last solstice.

"Sweet serpent," you murmured against his seeking mouth, tasting yesterday's pomegranate wine on his tongue. Your knuckles brushed the proof of his desperation straining against linen sleep pants. "Shall I gift Nevar's queen your spend staining her carpets? Imagine the scrolls her spies would pen..."

His growl shook the perfume vials on your dresser. "Let them read how thoroughly you're claimed." Magic crackled as he walked you backward toward the rumpled four-poster, its curtains still bearing tear marks from last night's...negotiations.

You stopped him with a hairpin to the throat - diamond tip kissing his Adam's apple. "What use is a pet," you breathed into the sudden stillness, "that can't wait seven nights?" The suitcases' levitation spells hummed higher, leather corners smoking with impatience.

Gojo's laugh curled like opium smoke around your resolve. "Seven nights without your teeth at my-"

The door slammed open with your will rather than hands. You stepped through without turning, knowing he'd see the tremble in your lifted chin, smell the arousal even sandalwood oil couldn't mask. His last words followed you down the tower stairs, clinging like the scent of his skin under your nails:

"Her Winter Court has ice in its veins, darling. You'll burn for me by third sunset."

The door didn't quite click shut behind you.

SCENEBREAK

The conference room's AC hummed like a dying wasp, its stale breath doing nothing for the sweat pooling beneath your thigh-high stockings. You watched nanami adjust his tie for the seventh time - that particular Windsor knot you'd complimented three moons ago, when his fingers still smelled of fresh litigation paperwork rather than desperate cologne.

"Post-summit dinner," he said, voice smoother than the whiskey he'd never order himself. "There's... a new izakaya near the courthouse." His briefcase clicked open-shut-open, swallowing the unspoken that doesn't involve reviewing merger contracts until 2AM.

Before you could weaponize your clipboard, Choso's younger brother materialized from the floral arrangement - all gangly limbs and inherited cheekbones. "S-senpai! I baked these mochi shaped like... your case files?" The dessert box trembled in hands still scarred from last month's cursed speech bubble incident.

The temperature dropped. Glass rattled in its frames.

"You." Sukuna's shadow swallowed the conference table's LED lights. His knuckle brushed your inner thigh beneath the table, a brand through three layers of imported wool. "Stop wasting my fucking time with these maggots." The 'V' of his unbuttoned shirt revealed blackened curse marks pulsing like live wires.

Nobara's champagne flute caught the dying sunlight, casting blood-red prismas across your notes. "Careful, princess," she purred, stiletto tapping the nuclear football briefcase under the table. "Let one paw too far up that skirt, and we'll be scraping king of curses off the ceiling tiles again."

Maki didn't look up from sharpening her cursed speech quill. "The Kamo heir's been eyeing our stock options. I could arrange an... acquisition." Her grin flashed feral. "Permanently."

You stood, letting Sukuna's stolen jacket slide from your shoulders like shed skin. "Gentlemen." The single word froze Nanami's pen mid-signature, turned Choso's brother's ears incarnadine. "Shall we reconvene when your," a deliberate glance downward, "arguments stand taller than your briefing docs?"

The door slammed without your touch. Through vibrating glass, you watched Sukuna's reflection peel himself from your abandoned chair, licking residual cursed energy from his fingers like spun sugar.

Nobara materialized at your elbow, her perfume cutting through the stench of male desperation. "So. Which head shall we mount in the lobby first?"

SCENEBREAK

As you stumble through the front door, the dim light of the hallway casts long shadows, illuminating the remnants of your chaotic evening. The lingering warmth of the meeting still clings to you, blending with the pleasant buzz from the drinks consumed—each one a different shade of impulse and camaraderie. You take a moment to lean against the door frame, attempting to shake off the dizziness that settles like a heavy fog in your mind.

You take a deep breath, the familiar scent of your home—softly spiced with hints of sandalwood and fresh linen—envelops you like a warm hug. Just beyond the threshold, the living room opens up, revealing a sight that makes your heart swell. There, sprawled comfortably on the inviting sofa, is Gojo, oblivious to the world. His unruly white hair is tousled, partially hiding his serene face, and a remote hangs loosely from his fingers like a forgotten prize.

A smile creeps across your face, softening the edges of your exhaustion. You lift a hand in a casual wave, and with a flick of your wrist, a gentle magic stirs from your fingertips. It dances through the air, shimmering softly, and gracefully sweeps the remote from his grasp, tucking it neatly back into its designated spot on the coffee table. You chuckle to yourself, enchanted by the effortless connection you share with him—this little moment of mischief a reminder of the bond you both cherish.

With Gojo undisturbed, you tiptoe toward the bathroom, your feet tapping softly against the wooden floor, each step echoing in the quiet house. The bathroom door creaks open, revealing a haven of solace. You flick on the light and watch as the warmth floods the small space.

Sliding out of your clothes, you let the fabric pool at your feet like a forgotten memory, the weight of the day spilling away with each piece. The shower beckons, its warmth promising to cleanse both body and spirit. You step inside, and as the water cascades over you, it feels like a thousand tiny hands washing away the last remnants of the day—the heat enveloping you like an embrace, the steam swirling around, making everything feel ethereal.

You let your thoughts drift, momentarily losing yourself in the rhythmic sound of water splashing against the porcelain tub. Each droplet carries away the weight of the night—the laughter, the conversations, the clinking of glasses—all dissolving into the swirling current. The scent of your favorite citrusy shampoo fills the air, invigorating your senses as you lather the suds into your hair.

In this tranquil moment, you think about Gojo, the way his presence lights up even the dullest of days, his carefree spirit a delightful contrast to your more serious demeanor. You smile again, the corners of your lips lifting as you imagine his gentle snores filling the silence.

With each rinse, you emerge from your shower revitalized, feeling fresh—not just in body, but in mind and heart. The day may have drained you, but the promise of shared laughter and cozy evenings with Gojo lies ahead. You step out of the shower, ready to embrace the warmth of home once more.

Stepping out of the bathroom, still steamy from the shower, you make your way to your room, the soft, plush carpet feeling heavenly under your bare feet. The door creaks open, revealing a sight that makes your heart skip a beat. There, sprawled comfortably on your bed, is Gojo, looking utterly relaxed and dangerously enticing. He’s stripped down to just his boxers, the fabric clinging to his form in all the right places, revealing the contours of his toned physique and the mischievous glint in his striking eyes as he catches your gaze.

A playful giggle escapes your lips, light and teasing, punctuating the air between you. "Damn, pet," you smirk, your voice laced with flirtation, "you really want to fuck me, huh?" The words hang in the air, dripping with mischief, as you take a step closer, emboldened by the magnetic pull of the moment.

You can see the way his lips curl into a sly smile, the confidence radiating from him like an electric current. He shifts slightly, his playful demeanor inviting you into the game. Your fingers, almost instinctively, form delicate claws as you trail them up the supple skin of his thigh, relishing the way he tenses slightly at your touch, a shiver running through him at the enticing sensation.

“Careful now,” he warns playfully, his tone both teasing and sultry, “you might awaken something wild.” His blue eyes glimmer with unspoken promises, and as you inch closer, the environment around you seems to crackle with anticipation.

You let your nails graze his upper thigh and feel the tension there, the thrill of the moment igniting sparks between you. The air grows thick with desire, and in that space, your laughter intertwines with his soft chuckles, creating an intimate symphony that fills the room. Everything else—your previous exhaustion, the weight of the day—melts away like the steam from the bathroom, leaving just the two of you and the thrilling possibility of what the night could hold.

“Maybe I like to keep you on your toes,” you tease back, a playful wink accompanying your words, your fingertips still lingering on his skin as you savor the electrifying connection.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you feel your dragonborn side awaken, a powerful presence simmering just beneath your skin. It spills forth, igniting a fierce longing within you as you step toward Gojo, your wings unfurling gracefully behind you with an iridescent shimmer. Their vast span casts shadows across the dimly lit room, an embodiment of your unyielding spirit and desire.

In one sweeping motion, you push him down against the soft bedding, your wings gently enveloping him, asserting your dominance in this playful game. His eyes widen in surprise, a mixture of awe and exhilaration flickering across his handsome features. His breath catches in his throat as you lean closer, the heat radiating between you intensifying.

"You did this, Gojo," you declare, your voice a sultry whisper, rich with a playful edge. "You wanted me, and here you got me." Your words carry a teasing challenge, each syllable dripping with a heady blend of confidence and desire. You revel in the moment, feeling empowered as you look down at him, an undeniable connection crackling in the air.

With a playful flick of your wrist, you peel away the towel that barely clings to your body, revealing your breasts, the softness of your skin glistening in the warm light. The fabric drops to the floor, a silent declaration of vulnerability wrapped in power. You take a moment to relish the exhilaration of exposing yourself, your dripping pussy glistening enticingly, and you see Gojo gulp, his usually composed demeanor slipping away momentarily.

“Damn,” he breathes, an uncharacteristic shyness overtaking him, but only for a second. The glint in his eye returns as he leans back into the plushness of the bed, fully aware of the scene unfolding. You can see him shift, grappling between his instinctive urge to take charge and the deeper thrill of surrender that he knows you’ve ignited within him.

It’s a shift that transforms the dynamic, and you savor the subtle power play. You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, your breath warm as you murmur, “You love being my submissive little toy, don’t you?” The gentle teasing ignites something primal within him, and you feel the way his body responds, craving the thrill of your control.

In this passionate embrace, time seems to slow, and the world outside fades away. It’s just the two of you, surrounded by a cocoon of longing and playful seduction, ready to explore the wild side lurking within.

As excitement courses through you, you shift your focus, feeling an irresistible pull toward Gojo. Lowering yourself, you instinctively align your body with his, the warm musk of desire swirling around you. Your heart races in tandem with the intensity of the moment, and you savor every lingering sensation as you draw closer to him.

With a teasing gaze, you take him into your mouth, feeling the familiar stretch fill you as you savor his size, already accommodating the presence that has so often driven you wild. The initial hiss escapes your lips, a mix of pleasure and exhilaration reflecting the heat that spirals through your core. You can’t help but relish the sheer magnitude of him, your body instinctively anticipating the sensation.

As you take him deeper, the taste and feel of him ignite a hunger inside—a primal need that harmonizes with the dragonborn energy bubbling within you. It doesn’t take long before you’re lost in the rhythm, rolling your hips as you move in tandem, matching every thrust with your own undulating desire.

With each deliberate motion, the sounds fill the air—your soft moans of pleasure mingling with the breathy gasps escaping Gojo’s lips. You can feel the way he tenses, the way he fights against the overwhelming sensations as you tease and delight him, pushing him higher with every movement. His fingers tangle in your hair, urging you closer, and his voice, once playful, shifts to something deeper, more urgent.

“Ah, damn, just like that,” he groans, the words slipping from his mouth in a rush. You can feel the pulse in your own body matching the tempo, the heat rising as you drown in a whirlpool of pleasure.

You pull back for a moment, looking up at him with a playful spark in your eye, enjoying the sight of him completely lost in the moment, a soft sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” you tease softly, your voice dripping with seduction as your fingers trace along his thighs, still able to feel the effects of your touch.

But the whisper of your breath barely leaves your lips before you’re back to him, succumbing to the intoxicating rhythm, your body moving with a hungry eagerness. Each indulgent motion sends waves of satisfaction coursing through you both, and as he moans again, you know you’re losing yourselves—completely enraptured in the dance of mutual pleasure.

The chamber's ice-forged pillars weep diamond droplets around you both, their eternal frost recoiling from the heat of his spilled divinity. Your tail - obsidian scales catching firelight like a blacksmith's blade - tightens incrementally around his sac. Not enough to truly harm, only to make the hiss of his indrawn breath reverberate off centuries-old runes carved by dead gods.

"Dam-ah!-mn it, mas-mmf-ter-" Gojo's protest dies against his own forearm, teeth sinking into sun-gold flesh to muffle sounds he'd never admit to making. His cock weeps pearlescent precome onto your inner thigh, the contrast obscene - celestial ichor smearing over the mortal sweat of your humanoid form's skin.

You pause, savoring the way his abdominal muscles flutter like caged starlings. "Sensitive?" Your words vibrate through the tongue now lapping salt from his sternum. "Or simply..." A claw traces the forbidden seal above his heart - the one binding his Six Eyes to flesh. "...ashamed of how your body betrays you?"

His choked whimper tastes of winter apples and damask roses. You move.

The stretch burns like forging a new constellation - his cock splitting you wide as you sink onto him in one glacial descent. Your shared gasp coalesces into mist above, forming temporary runes that dissolve like sugar in tea. His hips stutter upward instinctively, met by your tail slamming them back into the crysteel altar.

"Nnh-! F-fuck, your cunt's eating me alive-" Gojo's blasphemous mouth spills heresies between panting laughs, sapphire eyes glassy with overstimulation. You watch, enthralled, as his irises fracture into mandala patterns - the visual proof of his unraveling.

Your claws find purchase in his hips, drawing ichor that sizzles against cold stone. "This vessel hungers," you growl, rolling your pelvis in the ancient rhythm that once birthed volcanoes. "Shall I let it devour you whole, little god?"

His answer comes in the form of nails raking down your spine - half-mortal, half-divine blood welling where he breaches skin. The altar cracks beneath you both as his release hits like supernova, molten gold flooding your womb as his scream shakes loose icicles from the vaulted ceiling.

When his thrashing stills, you lick the tears from his trembling lids. They taste of ambrosia and regret.

The chamber's ancient glyphs glow crimson as your hips piston downward, each impact scattering bioluminescent pollen from the sacred vines binding Gojo's wrists. His cock sheens with nectar meant for god-kings, now pooling where your cunnus milks him with primordial contractions. You feel the exact moment his worship turns feral - the way his sac draws up tight against your tail's constriction, vein-patterned thighs quaking like tectonic plates divorcing.

"G-goddess please-!" His sob fractures into three octaves, irises blooming into fractal lotus patterns only seen during celestial eclipses. Your claws carve devotional sigils into his pectorals as you grind deeper, ichor-slick and relentless.

The orgasm hits like collapsing star matter:

Your walls pulse in forgotten temple drum rhythms

His release floods molten electrum hot enough to melt moonstone

Twin screams shatter the obsidian mirrors lining the chamber

When vision returns, you find him arched in ruined splendor - tear tracks crystallizing into diamond rivulets across flushed cheeks. His spent cock twitches valiantly still sheathed within you, oversensitive nerve-endings firing like dying stars.

"Magnificent," you purr, thumb smearing their combined fluids across his panting mouth. "Now beg properly for your deity."

His tongue darts out instinctively, lapping at the offered digits. "All...all hail the cunt that cleaves worlds," he rasps, laughter and desperation warring in his ruined voice. "Mercy, my dark star. This vessel wasn't built to contain supernovas."

[onedeadlycookiee]

I don't even know why I'm posting this, but since I already put it:

Do you like it? Should I change something about the editing? :P

[verobatto]

Thank you @deancodedcastielenby for the tag!

1) Kotetsu T. Kaburagi (Tiger & Bunny)

2) Castiel (Supernatural)

3) Yami Tsukishiro (Black Clover)

4) Satouru Gojo

5) Kenshin

Tagging @crysses1 @fanficburner @magnificent-winged-beast

Top 5 comfort characters:

I was tagged by @bleuzombie

Rules: list your top 5 comfort characters and include a gif of each.

Where the hell to start.. lol

1: Nick Stokes /Greg Sanders from CSI.

2: Dean Winchester

3: Johnny "Soap" McTavish

4. Bill Harding (Twister)

5. Milo Thatch

I will not be taking questions at this time lol

I'm supposed to tag friends lol so here we go. @verobatto , @hawkland , @chitaquadean @casblackfeathers , @grimmzee , @hotgirlcastiel

[fullfiresiren]

// toxic!Gojo headcannons //

notes: it’s literally cannon that Gojo belongs to the streets so idk what y'all expect from him really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ man is a menace, enough said...

warnings: nsfw/18+, degradation, triggering, relationship abuse

He’ll gaslight you any chance he gets.

He disappears for weeks with zero contact. There’s no word of a goodbye from him, and you have to hear from others where it is he’s actually gone, and what it is he’s doing. He seemingly drops off the face of the Earth and ghosts you for the whole time he’s away. The worst part is, he’s active on his socials and reads your messages — he just doesn’t care enough to reply.

He thinks it’s funny when you get emotional. in the middle of a one-sided argument where you’re desperately trying to get through to him, to explain what he did and how it made you feel, he’s too busy smirking at the way your face is red with emotion to pay any attention to whatever it is you’re saying. He doesn’t care, and the more he laughs at you, the more upset you get. That’s the point. He thinks it funny when you’re hysterical.

He has major dacryphilia. loves it when you cry -- even more so if he’s the one who caused it. seeing the way you try to conceal your sadness over his nasty comments and sly digs has him hard in his pants.

He never says thank you. for anything. 

He never apologizes.

If he does apologize, it’s those GARBAGE apologies like; “I’m sorry that you think I hurt you.” “I’m sorry you felt offended.” “You know I'd never intentionally hurt you.” 

Whenever you tell him you love him, he simply replies; “me, too.”

When he has “work dinners” or “work get-togethers” where you’re not invited, he’ll explain it’s just for the employees of Jujutsu Tech. Later, on his insta story, he’s at a club in the VIP section with Geto and a bunch of girls you don’t recognize.

Master manipulator. When you confront him about his shitty behavior, it’s “I’m always the bad guy, huh?” and “wow, I guess I'm the worst boyfriend ever, right?” He'd definitely throw in “you’re just crazy - everyone else thinks so, too.” 

Thinks cheating is only cheating if it’s full penetrative sex. blowjobs and hand jobs “don’t count”

When you pack your shit and leave, it’s “baby, I’m sorry, I promise I’ll change. You’re the only one for me, you’re the only one I’d ever love. I can’t do this without you. I need you.” on his knees, begging type behavior. massive empty promises. if you get back with him, he’ll be back to his regular antics in 5 minutes.

You’d come second. To everything. Shoko invited him out to a bar with Nanami? He’s there. Oh, you had plans for a quiet night in? “Sorry that I forget things sometimes, I can’t remember everything we plan -- plus you said you’d probably fall asleep during the movie anyway and leave me to watch it by myself, so that’s just selfish if you think about it.”

If you get into a fight where he feels he’s losing because you’re making clearly valid points, he’ll bring up his past to make you feel bad. 

Definitely compares you to his exes.

Just don’t date him, okay? Leave toxic gojo to the streets where he belongs.

[umadxoxo]

pls make pt 2 of YOU DIDN’T? [Gojo Satouru x Top!Male Reader] 😞

I don’t see a happy ending after he did MC dirty like that

[asirensrage]

"You feel like home, y'know?"

She sits there, trying to ignore his presence. He doesn't hesitate to throw himself down next to her, into her space. It doesn't matter how many times she shoves him away, he always comes back...usually with a gift or snack to make up for it. "Don't you have anything better to do?" she asks, resigned to his presence. He grins at her from where his head lays across her lap. It's his favourite position, one he tries to get into whenever they're relaxing. "Why would I?" She sighs and turns back to the show she's watching. It's some drama but she can barely pay attention with the warmth and weight of him. Sometimes it feels like he's staring at her, mapping out the lines of her face, or the bags under her eyes. She never actually sees him do it though. Her hand runs through his hair without thinking, used to the position they're in. She scraps her nails lightly against his scalp and even though it's only his head on her lap, she feels him relax into it. "You feel like home, y'know?" he murmurs it and for a second she's not even sure if she heard it correctly. She doesn't ask though, doesn't stop in her movements. Home. He doesn't talk about home. She was pretty sure he hated it, actually, so she doesn't know why he said it. He doesn't hate her or he wouldn't be sinking into her couch right now, vulnerable in a way he rarely lets himself be. Maybe it's the home he wishes he had, some part of her mind says. She sighs again. She doesn't think she's home material, but she won't protest. Not with him. She can be his home.

let's do more prompts

[wasteland-squog-baby]

A canon heavenly restriction character, toji fushiguro could, with little effort:

Move at light speed on foot, run on walls and water, create afterimages, destroy buildings by throwing stuff really hard, see souls with bare eyes and thus strike them, ignore and invade any domain with immunity to the sure hit effect, go undetected through even the eyes of satouru gojo (or in maki zen'ins case ryomen sukuna), physically outclass everyone else in the verse BUT another heavenly restriction user, have their body forcefully shape the soul making them immune to possession or soul reshaping techniques like idle transfiguration, use rubble like bullets by taping them, and using any cursed tool to 120% of its limits.

Ooc:

Official Etoi Fusikanjo picrew I finally made.

whomst?

[okkotsuus]

we all still die (satoru g.) !

features: satouru g.

contents: general tw. jjk manga spoilers (shibuya). angst. blood. death. kidnapping. blindfolds. death threats. narcissism. imprisonment. major character death (it’s not gojo). curses. trial. fear. crying. fighting. yelling. animal death. graphic descriptions. heartbreak. grief. ego death. inspired by willow tree march by the paper kites. 3.6k words

tagging: @king-of-dreamers

the tags are a doozy but i promise it's really not that bad...

gojo satoru was the strongest and the strongest was satoru gojo.

he was the peak of jujutsu society, of this era, of this world even. but you? you were so incredibly average that it almost disgusted him. you, y/n l/n, his classmate in his first year of jujutsu tech.

with a technique like yours, you were destined for greatness, your life was served to you on a silver platter. yet, you were so plain, so unassuming, so underwhelming,

gravitational manipulation, it was a technique from your family line that hadn’t been born into this world for the last thousand years. it was created back in jujutsu’s golden age: when sukuna and greats still roamed this earth. it was the mark of myth and legend, it was a shining light in jujutsu. but it was you who possessed it.

boring, unimaginative you. gojo was angry, because he too was a child of miracle, he was just like you. yet, the two of you were so different. he doubted that he was more different than anyone else.

he first meets you at school he’s loud and boisterous as he introduces himself. he knows who he is, and he is proud. “heya! i’m satoru gojo, who’re you?” his eyes peek over the rims of his sunglasses that are far too dark to see out of, they’re a blue that you’d never seen in this life.

“y/n l/n.” your answer is gruff and meek at the same time, hands shoving into your pocket as your back hunches to remove his sparkling pools of eyes from your view. gojo takes all offense to this.

he is the prime of jujutsu society. yet you do not even look at him, like some form of insubordination he feels a bitter spitefulness curl in his chest. you, this meek thing, dares to be so uncourteous to the pillar of jujutsu. gojo has one hell of an ego on him by the age of fifteen.

at this point, he decides he doesn’t like you. later on, yaga makes everyone introduce themselves and their techniques.

“suguru geto and i use curse manipulation.”

“ieiri shoko, i use reversed curse technique.”

“satoru gojo, bearer of the six eyes and limitless!” his eyes shift over to you, wanting to see that shock and awe that he got from the other two. but it never came. your hands stayed deep in your uniform pockets as you stared down at the ground, his blood boiled in a way it never had before.

you didn’t go to speak, until yaga prompted you. “y/n l/n, gravitational manipulation.” your eyes finally looked up from through  the shadow of your downcasted face. e/c eyes like unpolished gems, matte but such potential to glow.

gojo’s mouth flopped open like a fish, you, this meek thing. was also a miracle? in a semblance of something that was almost ego death, gojo realized that not everyone with power was like him. that was the first day that you entered staoru gojo’s radar.

satoru gojo sees you first use your technique in combat only a week later. you were assigned a solo mission, which he forcibly tagged along on, insisting you needed his help. satoru gojo has been a special grade sorcerer since practically the day he was born. so why were you, a second grade who’s name is not known to the world, assigned solo missions that even he is not privy to?

satoru gojo experiences true fear for the first time that day. he stands beside you watching as you stare at a curse, hands still comfortably concealed. the curse is writhing on the ground, letting out strangled chitters as it is crushed under some sort of invisible force. or rather, by gravity. it’s as if it is compressing, being contorted into some sort of compacted form that is so miserably small he begins to wonder if this is actually you doing this, with how you were, this couldn’t be you. 

the curse dies and before blinking, your eyes slide over to him, for the briefest moment gojo feels this crushing weight on his form. he is sent tumbling to his knees, but then it’s immediately gone. blood comes rushing from between his lips as tears are squeezed from those crystalline eyes. his entire body shakes, as if he had just bore the heaviest weight of all time, as if he was atlas bearing the weight of the world.

from this position, the first time he’d ever knelt before another, his eyes truly meet yours for the first time. in those endless, hollow pools of e/c, he sees a guilt swim. in your pockets your fists ball, you stalk off without him. a muttered apology is lost in the wind and the swirling of thoughts in the white-haired boy’s head.

this is the day that you become more than just a blip on satoru gojo’s radar. you become more than just another body in the room with him. you become known in his mind, you become y/n l/n to him.

you don’t see him for a week, avoiding him in some sort of guilty haze. gravitational manipulation was activated ocularly, which is why you tried your best to not look at people. lest you end up with accidental activation and another mangled body on the floor.

your curse claims its first life at the age of six, the day it manifests. your bright e/c eyes slide across the room to meet the family dog, who had been avoiding you for the last couple of hours. excitement surges through you as you continue to look at your beloved pet. the dog lets out a loud yelp as it’s fur is suddenly matted with blood, mangled as if smashed like a bug under a shoe.

a scream parts your lips as tears well in your eyes, obscuring your vision. a servant comes rushing in and when your eyes meet hers, she bears the same fate. squashed like a ketchup packet. your walls are red, your vision is red, everything is red.

but then your vision goes black, you feel a sharp pain in the side of your neck as a rough cloth is wrapped around your eyes. everything is foggy in this memory. all you know is that you woke up in complete darkness, that rough sheet of fabric wound tightly around your head.

you’re roughly grabbed as you are dragged into some sort of room, a faint candlelight seeps into the gaps of your blindfold, but you are unable to see anything but those amber splotches in the corner of your vision.

“let the records state that this is the trial to determine whether l/n y/n is a threat to jujutsu society, and whether they will be allowed to live.” blood pounds in your ears as you sit there, trying to soothe yourself by rocking back and forth. you are just six, a small child, yet you have killed about five people by know. you don’t remember any killings but that of the dog and your servant, but apparently it happened when you were being transported here.

you don’t remember much of the trial, only blips of shouting. you didn’t speak once, just sat there and sniveled, you are only six. what did they expect, for you to bed for your life? you hadn’t even lived yet, there was nothing for you to beg for. you had nothing to live for.

all you remember was being picked up from under your arms and being taken away by a large body, they were warm. so warm. you fell asleep almost instantly after contact.

you wake up without the blindfold on your face, your eyes open to see for the first time in nearly a week. everything is blurry before it focuses. the room is dim, a boring concrete box with one metal door. candles burn on the walls like some sort of medieval passageway.

when you stir, a smaller metal door opens and a rabbit hops in. your eyes shift to it and immediately it’s crushed, tangled and matted just like your dog. it’s leg twitches one last time before it dies.

a shriek rips from your dry throat, echoing in this cement boc as it reverberates and pierces your own ears.

a voice rings out, with no visible source. “y/n l/n, you will not leave this room until you can look at a human without instantly crushing them.”

they stayed true to their word. it took three weeks until you could look at a rabbit without killing it. two weeks for a cat. three weeks for a dog. four weeks for a monkey. after those three months you were allowed to look at a human, they sent the person in and they fell to their knees, blood pooling out of their mouth. but they did not immediately die. they later died of injuries, but it was not instant. so you were allowed to see the sun for the first time in three months. now, you were seven years old, spending your birthday in that miserable room.

you remained in the facility for seven more years. everyday you trained, you learned just how much pressure was needed to kill various species, from a fly to a human. it was ingrained into your mind. you learned how to target, how to crush a specific organ or body part. you became some sort of auto-kill machine. they also taught you how to reduce your own gravity, to reduce gravity on weapons. you became a soldier. you figured out that if you manipulated your gravity close enough you could fly. that was your favorite, it was the only time in your life where you had felt free.

you were freed under order of jujutsu officials, forced to go to a jujutsu high school so that they could perfect you into a weapon for the higher-ups. all your life that’s what you have been, a weapon.

but now, a week after nearly killing him, gojo satoru stands in front of you. he proclaims that if you were to use the full force of your technique that you wouldn’t kill him. he proclaims that his technique surpasses yours. you want to believe him, you really do. but you have too many bodies under your heel to take the risk.

“y/n l/n, you cannot kill me as i am right now!”

you shake your head and go to leave, but he catches you around your elbow, like a hook for him with your habit of keeping your hands concealed. your head spins and you lock eyes with him, delivering a slight force to try to get him to let go, but he does not budge. unlike last time, he stands strong, he remains unflinching, he remains the satoru gojo you had heard so much about.

your eyes widen as your heartbeat thunders in your ears.the pressure keeps increasing as you ready yourself to instantly cancel if needed, but he does not relent, he does not fall. the ground around him is cracking and crumbling inwards but he stands tall and true. you release, feeling your entire body lose tension, for the first time in seven years you feel your gaze soften.

you lower your gravity as you begin to float up, he remains hooked onto you, coming upwards with you. when jujutsu tech looks like a dollhouse, you stop ascending, choosing to stare at the boy in front of you.

this is the day that you recognize satoru gojo. as the burden of always being the strongest slips off your shoulders and onto his, you are truly free for the first time in your fifteen years of life. your hands leave your pocket as you hold his cheeks in your palms, limitless was turned off long ago as you lowered his gravity too.

your eyes meet his own and you feel a warmth spread in your chest.

“thank you satoru gojo, for lifting the burden of strength off my shoulders.” his eyes widened, those empty eyes of yours glimmered in the unfiltered sunlight like gemstones, shining and pure. your palms are warm against his cheeks, he cannot help but lean into your touch, like a cat.

that was the day satoru swore he would be the strongest, for the both of you. not for the world, not for the non-sorcerers, but for you. to keep this free euphoria splayed across your cheeks, to keep this warmth in his heart.

satoru gojo swears that you will not have to carry the burden of being the strongest ever again.

gojo satoru was the strongest and the strongest was satoru gojo.

but we all still die.

gojo is now a teacher as he stands here, staring at you as you stand in front of him with that smile on your face. he can’t shake the sense of foreboding he feels as you look at him with all that love in your eyes.

he can’t help but hold you a little tighter and kiss you a little harder as he goes off to shibuya to address the command for his presence. he was to go off first, and you were to trail a pace behind him. after satoru gojo, you were the strongest. you two would be able to resolve this all on your own, and additional forces would be sent in to clear lower grade curses while you dealt with the master minds together.

that was how it was supposed to go.

gojo stands in front of suguru geto, not seeing him as he is behind the sorcerer, you stand a pace behind him, slowing as you take in the man who had died last year. he was a dead man walking, talking, and fighting. your heart stops as you watch the prison realm open. your blood runs cold as those shackles you thought had escaped you clamp tight again over your neck, choking the words that are about to part your lips.

“yo! satoru !!”

“huh?”

“it’s been a while.”

in that brief moment that it takes for gojo to turn and process his best friend, one minute passes in his mind, you know what is going to happen. but you refuse to accept it as you spring forwards to try to shove your beloved out of the way, but it’s too late.

prison realm wraps its tendrils around the man you love and in that moment you feel the manacle around your neck tug you back up like a noose. you are pulled back up to your title as the strongest as you feel satoru’s cursed energy cease. it chokes you as tears slide down your cheeks, escaping from eyes that the light has yet again died in.

“c’mon now satoru. are you letting your mind wander during a fight?” you watch as gojo desperately tries to push out the fainest shred of cursed energy, but fails. you take your hands out of your pockets and hold them together, focusing on generating the cursed energy into a single point. if you were going to be forced to be the strongest, you were going to die with the title while fighting for the man who took that burden off your shoulders for seven years of your life.

“domain expansion: black hole” your eyes are completely black as they lock onto the body of suguru geto, a singularity swimming in the palm of your hand as the domain curls around the two of you. you can hear the shouts of gojo but you ignore him, if you had to die for this world, maybe you would finally fulfill the path that was served to you on a silver platter at birth.

your domain is pitch black other than the singularity in your hand, it has a ring of light around it. there is one moment before it activates and you take this moment to whisper out a final goodbye. “thank you for freedom, satoru, let us meet in the next life.”

you are in your second year in high school when you tell gojo everything. everything: the facility, your past, and the secret of your technique. there was a reason why it had not been born for the past thousand years. there is no other body suitable.

the technique is used ocularly, but it reaches it’s climax when activated with the hands. the technique is cursed to kill when it is used with the hands, to follow in the fate of its creator. chiyoko l/n died when using the technique with their hands, forming a black hole when fighting amaterasu. it sucked up both themself and a portion of the god, which is what allowed the cursed technique to be able to pass on to the next generation despite its creator having no heir.

this technique was known as black hole, appropriately named. it was the strongest cursed technique in history, but it would always kill its barer. there was no way to survive the use of black hole, it is a desperate last-ditch attempt to save a life other than your own. chiyoko used it to try to save the earth from amaterasu’s wrath, and now you use it to try to save the world and the man you love from the thing pretending to be suguru geto.

memories of the former bearer flood your mind before activation. and you are able to recognize the man in front of you. noritoshi kamo, known under the alias of kenjaku. the scum of the jujutsu world. 

but you weren’t the only one who was allowed a moment of peace before activation. kenjaku knew the incarnation of chiyoko l/n walked this earth, and when he gained suguru geto he knew that they would come rushing in with satoru gojo. so he planned accordingly.

after chiyoko l/n rose to fame, a cursed object was created to combat them, but it was never able to be tested, as they died at their own hands against the sun god. pocket space, a single-use item that allows the user to briefly relocate to a pocket dimension for exactly 0.2 seconds.

suguru geto smashed into the orb and he’s gone, your eyes widened as you desperately try to shut off your technique. but it’s hunger is relentless. you feel true pain for the first time in your life as a scream is ripped from your throat, the sound is eaten by the black hole, along with the left half of your torso. it shuts off, but not quick enough to spare you.

the domain crumbles around you as your flop onto the ground, weakly sitting up to lock eyes with satoru gojo, who is crying for the first time in years. you feel your life seeping out of the gaping hole in your side where your heart once was.

“guess i really am the strongest, huh?” a cough thunders out of your mouth as blood spatters the floor in front of you. a single drop of the warm, thich substance slides down gojo’s cheek as he stares dead at you. you stare at him with that damned smile on your face as blood drips from the corners of your mouth.

suguru geto reappears as you turn to him, still smiling. “take care of his body, kenjaku, satoru will need something to bury when this is all over.” the curse laughs and idly nods, kicking you down against the ground and watching as the blood seeps out of you like a burst pipe.

gojo does not speak as he watches the light leave your eyes, all he does is shake like a leaf in the wind. kenjaku steps on your back as he hears you wheeze, gojo goes to try to defend you but he is unable to move even an inch as he is forced to remember the situation at hand.

the love of his life and the most important person to him is dying in front of his eyes, he is about to be sealed for possibly forever in an inescapable dimension. and there is nothing that he can do to stop it.

for the first time in his life, satoru gojo experiences a true ego death as his world dies on the ground in front of him. life pooling out of their side.

gojo satoru was the strongest and the strongest was satoru gojo.

but if that was true, why are you dead on the floor in front of him, why is he trapped, why is he powerless to this all? why can’t he do anything? why is this happening?

he isn’t allowed to steep in his thoughts as suguru geto approaches. smile on the face of what was once his best friend.

“good night, satoru gojo. let us meet again in the new world.”

everything goes black as the prison realm seals in on him and the final thought that satoru gojo has in this world is simply: “why?”

okkotsuus 23

[tommybaholland]

Hello! Can I please request for Satouru, Yuuta and Dabi when their S/O stumbling in super drunk and incoherent, and spilling all there feelings for the boys how good they are, and how they couldn’t believe they got them and stuff then suddenly crying please! Drabbles or headcannons up to you, thank you! 💕

when their s/o is in their feels

featuring: satoru gojo and yuta okkotsu

been thinking about writing something with a drunk reader so thanks for requesting! mentions of drinking and drunk antics...i’m going to save dabi for sunday during bnha night so stay tuned<3

gojo 

both of you have had your moments where you’ve gone completely crazy with drinking so you try to take turns to take care of the other

and he was happy to let you have your night without him as he had to work late

you assured him that you could get home safely by yourself but he reaffirmed that he would be there if you needed him

fortunately, you kept to your word as you came through the door, more like forcibly stumbling in through it at a little past midnight

he had stayed up to wait for you, surprised that you had returned so soon as he went over to greet you

“well, you’re early. welcome home, babe.”

he tasted the leftover tequila on your lips as you kissed him and felt that you were swaying a bit in your stance

“looks like someone had fun. are you okay, sweetheart?”

you nodded lackadaisically, your eyes slightly glazed over as you gave him a goofy smile

you gripped tightly onto his shirt as you tell him how much you missed him, seduction in your tone

he chuckles, “i missed you as well, hot stuff. okay, let’s get you ready for bedtime.”

he helps you take your shoes off before he leads you over to your room where he sits you down on the bed and kisses the top of your head

he tries to leave to get some sleeping clothes out for you but you catch the end of his shirt, tugging lightly and asking if he can kiss you some more

now, this is not something you would ask if you were sober so he’s a little open to entertaining that offer

however, he wants to get you settled and comfortable first, hoping that you’ll be able to fall asleep alright

“let’s get you changed and ready for bed first and then i’ll give you all the kisses you want, okay?” 

he hums as he chooses some sweatpants and his own shirt for you to wear and comes back to see your head in your hands

he places the clothes on the bed before rubbing your back and sitting beside you

“you feeling okay, babe? we’ll get you into bed soon, i promise.”

then he starts to hear sobbing before you say that he’s ‘too nice to you’ which he doesn’t understand at first

“am i...supposed to be mean to you? i’m not sure what you’re saying, baby.”

you continue to say that he’s more than you ever thought he would be to you and that he deserves the world with how he puts up with someone like you

and then you tell him that you want him to know that you love him a lot

meanwhile, the man beside you was, at first, concerned about your confession but now has a smirk that is only growing as you get cuter

“you scared me there for a second, sweetheart. i almost thought you were going to say that you didn’t love me anymore.”

“but who wouldn’t love me? just kidding, babe. listen, cuteness. i understand where you’re coming from. i have those thoughts everyday about you, except i’m sober. but now i know that you think that way too and that we both aren’t communicating those feelings as well as we would like. sure, i tell you i love you and you do the same but it’s nice to hear a little more than that every now and then, right? so thank you for— wait, are you asleep?”

he laughs lightly to himself, “i love you a lot and i’ll tell you again tomorrow.”

yuta

he’s not the biggest drinker and doesn’t really mind if you drink a little more

in general, your relationship had developed at a slower yet steady and comfortable pace

for the most part, you were pretty good about communicating with one another and respecting the other’s boundaries

long story short, neither one of you was doing anything crazy

this occurrence happened somewhat later into the timeline, around about the 8-month mark

he had been on an overseas mission for the past few weeks with an unknown return date

so you decided to go out with some friends to take your mind off of being by yourself and trying not to worry about him too much, which he always tells you to do but you know that you would tell him the same if you were away

anyway, you end up downing drink after drink, not realizing the fast pace

suddenly all the alcohol hits you like a truck but luckily, someone comes to your rescue

your friends had contacted yuta, who had previously expressed to them that he was to come home soon and wanted to surprise you

it was just a coincidence that they picked this exact moment to reveal him to you, given how much you were talking about him and how much you missed him

you were still pretty coherent and aware of yourself and others but you were drunker than you thought

so when he came to pick you up, you didn’t believe he was real and asked if you were dreaming

“no, sweetie. it’s really me. can i have a hug?”

you hug him tightly around his waist before gathering all your personal items and leaving hand-in-hand with him

thankfully, your apartment wasn’t too far from the bar so he figured he could get you home by walking

at this point, you were very talkative as you walked beside him, asking where you were going and what you were doing, and how you didn’t recognize the street you were on

“we’re going home, dear. it’s okay if you don’t recognize it, i’ll make sure you get there safely. did you have fun tonight?”

you nodded, beginning to babble on about the night you had with your friends until suddenly you were on the ground

“are you alright? oh my gosh, i’m sorry, lovely. i should’ve caught you. here, give me your arm and let me help you up.”

he made sure you were steady before continuing to walk until you fell again about 100 steps later when you accidentally stepped into an uneven part of the sidewalk

this is when you realized you were pretty inebriated, you never fall or stumble this much when you’re drunk

you only felt bad for yuta, who had to witness and help you in your compromised state

“do you need to take a break? here, let’s stand over here, sweetie. does anything hurt? oh, no. your lip is bleeding.”

meanwhile, all you can do is apologize over and over for being so ‘sloppy’ and falling in front of him

and of course, he’s nothing but a sweetheart about it

“you’re not being sloppy, my love. you’re just drunk and that’s okay! you were having some fun and i’m glad that you did. do you think you can keep going-- what’s wrong, honey?”

you start to cry before sinking down to your feet and sitting on the ground

he gets down to your level and wraps an arm around you, rubbing his hand over your opposite shoulder

you explain that he’s so wonderful and nice to you even when you’re a mess and how you’re so lucky to have him and you ‘just love him so much’

he starts chuckling as he speaks, finding your confession really adorable, “oh, my sweet bumble. you’re so precious to me, how could i not take care of you when you need it? i feel just as lucky being here with you and i won’t let anything bad happen to you. i love you the most.”

you cry harder at his words, sobbing nonsense as he hugs you tightly against him and calms you down

you continue to apologize but you tell him that you’re crying because you��re happy

“i’m glad to hear that, darling. i’m very happy as well. now, do you think we can make it the rest of the way home? you can ride on my back if you want.”

you joke about him doing it again and being a wonderful person before complying, wrapping your arms around his neck

he gives you a piggyback ride the rest of the way, feeling warm inside from your head leaning onto his shoulder, the walk lulling you to sleep

another wild card night to jjk! let’s hear those ideas...

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

and on the 6th day god said are you the strongest because you’re gojo satouru or are you gojo satorou because you’re the strongest

yeah . ywah . Yeah . Yeah .