#gojou x you

[chosove]

18+ mdni | belated birthday boy :p

an. happy bday to my pretty boy, ily toru

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

“f-fuck ‘toru…always forget how big you are…” your voice trembled as you struggled to take him fully, cunt seeping copious amounts of slick to adjust to his size.

he chuckled at your admission, cock swelling at the sight of your pussy lips splitting open to accommodate his massive size. “cant say shit like that p-princess, fuckkk baby, how are you getting even tighter?” gojo gasps out, your warm walls clamping down on him as you feel the back of your thighs finally set themselves down on his lap.

“ngh…can feel you s’deep already” grabbing his much larger hand, you guide it from where it rested on your ass to the spot just above your navel, applying pressure as your hips started to grind against his. “all the way up here ‘toru…”

“y-yeah?…shit angel…” satoru whined, free hand caressing your sides as a way to ground himself.

placing your hands on his chest for stability, you sped up your ministrations, giggling at satoru’s eyes rolling back. “does that feel good? tell me what to do birthday boy” you whispered into his ear, finishing your words with a bite to the lobe, soothing the area by sucking on it after.

“sh-shit anything, y’can do whatever ya fuckin’ want baby jus’ don’t stop” satoru whined, hips bucking up to meet your cunt. “p-please angel, jus’ use me however you want”

your walls clamped down on his cock at his words, the small bit of drool escaping his lips only turning you on further. swiping your tongue against his lip, you began to move your hips once more, the sight of the strongest begging you to absolutely ruin him encouraging you to ignore the burn in your thighs.

you moaned out, losing yourself in the way his cock managed to hit every sensitive spot inside you, body going limp when satoru’s hands gripped at your hips to hold you in place as he thrusted into you with a new ferocity.

“f-fuck ‘toru, slow down!” your sweet voice sang, the whines behind each word only pushing him to fuck into you even more desperately.

“love when ya call me that princess” satoru groaned, his body beginning to shake with desperation. “love this p-pussy, love you, fuck i love you angel, love you, love you, love you s-so much-” his voice continued to cry out, head thrown back as his cock jumped inside you, cum spurting out in a way that you swore felt like forever.

“g-gonna cum ‘toru” you whined, his orgasm throwing you into yours. it only took a few more seconds of his cock pulsing inside you to push you over the edge, cunt repeatedly clamping down on him, the overstimulation causing satoru to whimper.

it only took a few minutes before you started to feel his hips move under you once more, your head lifting from the crook of his neck to gaze at the sight of your lover in absolute bliss, mouth wide open with his brows creased.

“gonna make me cum for each year, right baby?”

[mononijikayu]

araw – araw — gojo satoru.

You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son." He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still. "He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are." Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."

GENRE: post hidden - post inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

NOTE: i wanted to write today because it's genmei (you)'s birthday. you in this story were born on january 10th, 1986 - a few years older than satoru!!! there's only a month distance between satoru, megumi, satoshi and your birthday - so the household is always fun like that. oh and the card, megumi and tsumiki wrote thank you mom on the card!!! please listen to this song a lot too, opm is really great!!! i hope you enjoy this a lot like i did. i love you so much!!! see you on the next one <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IT'S INTERESTING THAT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME HE COULDN’T FIND A GOOD PLAN. But it was true, this is the first conundrum he’s ever had to face in his life. Gojo Satoru doesn't think he's ever been good at not knowing how to do this before.

He's managed to face down curses that could obliterate cities, stood toe-to-toe with some of the most formidable foes in the world, and always come out on top. 

But he supposed that he will only ever be undone by you. Perhaps it was always the case ever since he’s met you. That was as inevitable as falling in love with you. Everything was going to be a challenge. And he loved that. Because he loved you. 

As he stands in the quiet of the early morning, he finds himself completely at a loss as he takes in the silence of the brightening dawn. He sighed tenderly as he found himself stopping his cerulean gaze right in front of him—you. 

You were still comfortably fast asleep, with soft breaths escaping your tender lips, you looked peaceful despite the exhaustion etched on your face. Just the way he likes it. Much more so nowadays, knowing how tired you’ve been. 

You were a new mother. And being a new mother, it was a lot of work. Even if you took turns taking care of the little treasure you brought into the world, Satoru knows that you work harder than he ever will.

He knows you stayed up all night keeping Satoshi asleep, cradling your son in your arms whenever he stirred.  And just as much, you also keep up to date with Megumi and Tsumiki, no matter what happens. 

Of course, he would tell you off so that you would continue on your bed rest or continue about taking as much time to heal as possible. But you couldn’t help it. This has been your entire life for almost half a decade.

You like being involved with everything. But Satoru worries, he always does. He can’t help it. He was just as much a father as he was a husband. You gave him everything that’s good in his life. And he means it. 

Yet now this leaves him in a conundrum.

How the hell could he top this gift of a lifetime?

How can he equate this gift on your birthday?

It was only a month ago, on his birthday, when you handed him the most precious gift in the world: your newborn son, Satoshi. The memory of that day is etched vividly in Gojo Satoru’s mind, a moment he revisits often, especially in the quiet hours of the night when the world is asleep, and it’s just the two of you and little Satoshi.

He remembers the soft glow of the hospital room, the way your bright eyes shimmered with a mix of exhaustion and pure joy as you gently cradled the tiny bundle of life, a life that both of you created, a life you had risked heaven and earth for, lay tenderly quiet in your arms.

Satoru had entered the room, his usual confident stride slightly hesitant, his light blue gaze locked onto you. The second his eyes met yours, he felt something shift deep within him—a kind of warmth he had never known before. One that he never thought he’d ever feel.

You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son."

He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still.

"He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are."

Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."

In that moment, Satoru realized what it truly meant to be loved and to love in return. Holding Satoshi close, he silently vowed to protect and cherish his family with every ounce of his being. That day, his life changed forever, not because of his immense power or the battles he fought, but because of the tiny life in his arms and the incredible person who had given it to him.

Now, as he watches you sleep, that memory fuels his determination to make your birthday just as unforgettable. You had given him the world, and now it was his turn to make sure you felt just as cherished, just as loved. But still, what could he do that could equate to that? What could ever be enough to make your birthday just as special?

Satoru could only sigh quietly, scratching the back of his head, as he gazed at you lovingly. How could he possibly top that devoted act of yours? How could he make your birthday as special as you made his?

His clear mind races with ideas, but none of them feel good enough. With a quiet determination, he stands up, stretching carefully to avoid waking you, his joints softly popping in the stillness of the room.

When he finishes, he tiptoes over to the crib where your little son, Satoshi, sleeps peacefully. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains casts a gentle glow over the room, highlighting the delicate features of the little one. 

Satoru leans down, a tender smile tugging at his lips as he watches the slow rise and fall of Satoshi’s tiny chest. His little hands are curled into fists, and his lips form a small pout as his little one continues to find himself in dreamland.

"Hey, little treasure of mine." Satoru whispers softly, brushing a finger gently across Satoshi’s cheek. "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that? And it’s all thanks to your amazing mom. You should be nicer to mom, okay? ‘specially today. It’s your mom’s birthday, after all."

A soft murmur releases from your son’s lips. Satoru couldn’t help but laugh silently. He could understand him, he supposed. Satoru will take his son’s hum as an answer. He stands there for a few moments longer, lost in the serenity of the moment.

The quiet hum of the house, the soft breaths of his sleeping son, and the comforting presence of you in the next room—all of it fills him with a profound sense of peace and gratitude.

Determined not to waste another moment, Satoru quietly steps out of the room. As he pads down the hallway, he hears the soft murmurs of Megumi and Tsumiki stirring their rooms.

A small smile plays on his lips as he finds himself leaning against the wall by their hall. A little while later, he could see Megumi and Tsumiki padding into their rooms, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"Satoru–san?" Tsumiki whispers, her voice gentle as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. "Why are you up so early?"

"Yeah." Megumi adds, stifling a yawn as he steps into the room. "And why are you standing there like that? You look like you’re about to pick a fight with someone. It’s weird."

Satoru raises an eyebrow, feigning offense as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Hey, standing around waiting for my kids to wake up isn’t weird. It's dedication."

Tsumiki giggles softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Dedication to what, exactly?"

"To make sure we have the best start to the day, obviously!" Satoru replies with a playful grin. "Besides, today’s special, remember? It’s my wife’s birthday, and I need my secret weapons—aka you two—to help me make it perfect."

Megumi narrows his bluish–green eyes slightly, still skeptical. "Secret weapons, huh?"

"That’s right, you guys." Satoru says, ruffling Megumi's hair affectionately. "You two are crucial to this mission. So, what do you say? Ready to help make this the best birthday ever?"

Tsumiki and Megumi exchange a glance before nodding in unison, their sleepy expressions replaced by excitement. Though, excitement for Megumi is different than it was for Tsumiki. That’s just how his little ones were. Tsumiki giggles as she walks up to Satoru. Megumi hums, crossing his arms as he looks away. But from a corner, Satoru could see his little smile. 

"Okay, secret weapons reporting for duty!" Tsumiki says with a mock salute, making Satoru laugh.

"That’s the spirit!" he replies. "Now, let’s get to work before they wake up and catch us in the act."

Breakfast could be a start, of course. Satoru had all the intentions of making today special just for you. Together, they tiptoe to the wide expanse of the kitchen, careful not to wake you.

The early morning light filters softly through the pastel curtains, casting a warm glow on their little covert operation. Satoru takes the lead on the operations, whispering instructions like a seasoned chef conducting a top-secret mission.

"Alright, Megumi, you're on egg duty!" Satoru says, pointing to the carton of eggs on the counter. "Crack 'em like a pro."

Megumi steps up, carefully cracking an egg against the bowl’s edge. A small shell fragment falls in, and he quickly fishes it out, shooting Satoru with a determined look. "I got this."

"Careful with the eggs, Megumi." Satoru whispers with a grin, leaning in conspiratorially. "We don’t want to serve scrambled shells to your mother."

“Gen–san’s not my mom….” Megumi rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Satoru goes behind him and pats his head. Megumi could feel his ears turn red. "I know, I know. I’m not five anymore…..I’ll do well with Gen–san’s eggs."

Tsumiki giggles as she stands beside them, diligently stirring pancake batter. "You’re not much better, Gojo–san. You almost dropped the syrup a minute ago."

Satoru gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as he looks at Tsumiki with a mock look of hurt. "Hey, hey, this is a delicate operation. We’re dealing with high-stakes birthday breakfast here!"

He then drops the act and winks, making Tsumiki laugh softly and Megumi snicker. “Alright, alright. Let’s do well. You know how sharp their nose is. They’ll smell it from a mile away.”

As the pancakes continue to sizzle on the griddle, the kitchen fills with the comforting aroma of sweet batter and freshly cut blueberries he’s adding onto the pancake.

He smiles as he flips them. Soon enough, he took the eggs from Megumi and thanked him. Satoru starts cooking the eggs on a frying pan on the other side of the burners.  

Megumi soon grabs a plate and starts to put it near Satoru, who thanks him. Satoru expertly flips the pancake and continues with the scrambled eggs. Megumi takes a cup from the cabinet and takes it to the refrigerator, taking the milk and pouring it out onto the cup. He takes more and starts doing the same for the rest. 

Satoru starts to hum as he turns the stove off. He plates your pancake then for him and the kids, before adding the scrambled eggs too.

Tsumiki happily adds the final touches to the batter with a sprinkle of cinnamon, while Megumi meticulously slices strawberries and bananas with a butter knife and adds them directly onto the plates. Satoru thanks the two of them as he carefully puts away everything they used for him to wash in the sink later.

Once the food is ready, the three of them carefully arrange your own food on a tray. They’ll eat their own food later. The blueberry pancakes are stacked neatly, topped with fresh fruit and a dollop of whipped cream.

A small bouquet of a variety of wildflowers from the garden, that Megumi found outside sits in a tiny vase next to a handmade card that Tsumiki decorated with hearts, glitter, and a sweet message inside by the two an Satoru remained etched inside.

Satoru steps back, beaming at their creation. "Alright, team, we’ve outdone ourselves. Let's wake up to our birthday target."

Tsumiki giggles again, picking up the card with pride. "Gen–san’s going to love it."

With the tray balanced carefully in Satoru’s hands, they make their way back to your room, hearts full of excitement. Tsumiki tries to suppress her excited giggles as she holds her brother’s hand, following Satoru. This was just the beginning. Today, they’re determined to show you just how much you mean to them—one heartfelt, lovingly crafted breakfast first, before the rest.

They quietly enter the master bedroom, Satoru balancing the tray with exaggerated care. You slowly stir at the sound of footsteps, effortlessly blinking, still rather weary as they came to approach you with their own sorts of excitements on their faces. The sight of all three of them standing there, happily, which can only make your heart melt.

���Happy birthday!” They all cheer, their voices soft but filled with all tones of excitement.

Satoru places the tray in front of you, as you slowly sit up, looking at him. Your husband's cerulean eyes were twinkling as he looked at you and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “Good morning. Sorry for the sudden surprise here.”

“Surprise really is a word to use.” You mumbled at him, teasingly as you smiled at him. “It’s a lovely way to wake up.”

“We made you breakfast, and Megumi and Tsumiki made this beautiful card for you,” Satoru whispers softly, his voice filled with affection as he places the tray gently in front of you. He gestures toward the card, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Obvious by Megumi’s handwriting. Which, you know, could use some work—”

“Hey!” Megumi’s face flushes red, his features contorting in mock indignation. His glare shifts between Satoru and you, though the hint of a smile betrays his embarrassment.

You chuckle, reaching over to give Satoru’s hand a playful smack. “It’s lovely, Megumi. Don’t worry.” Your eyes soften as you glance at the card, the glittery hearts and thoughtful message warming your heart.

Satoru pouts dramatically, rubbing the back of his hand as if you’d truly hurt him. “You didn’t have to smack me so hard, you know?” he says, feigning sadness, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated sulk.

“Hm, sorry about that, my love.” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know.”

“Hey, we had to, babe.” Satoru whispers, his voice filled with quiet conviction as he meets your gaze. His smile widens, the warmth in his eyes making your heart flutter. “It’s such a special day, isn’t it? Celebrating the person who makes our little family whole.”

Tsumiki beams at your side, her hands clasped together. “We just wanted to make sure you felt as special as you make us feel every day.”

Megumi nods, a shy small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it’s not much, but we hope you like it.”

Your heart swells with love, and you urge them together. When they are together close to you, you pull them all into a warm embrace. “I love it. Thank you all so much. This is the best birthday ever.”

Satoru wraps his arms around the three of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You deserve the best, today and every day.”

You sit up, touched beyond words, and pull them all into a hug. “Thank you so much. This is the best birthday ever.”

Your beloved kisses the top of your head, his heart swelling with love. “No, thank you—for everything. We love you.”

Just as you all settle into the warmth of the moment, a soft, familiar cry echoes from the nearby crib. Satoshi's little voice rises, breaking the serene silence of the morning. Your husband Satoru chuckles, quickly pulling back slightly from the group hug.

"Looks like someone else wants to join our little celebration." he says, his bright blue eyes twinkling. 

You smile, beginning to rise, but Satoru gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got this, babe." he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "You relax and enjoy your breakfast."

Satoru turns to Tsumiki and Megumi. “Both of you too. Go and eat breakfast too. We might go out later, to have fun. So you should go and get some strength too.”

“Okay!” Tsumiki nodded and started to pull Megumi with her, who was telling her that he could walk without being dragged by her. But she didn’t listen to him. She just happily pulled him along. You shook your head and smiled, starting to eat your breakfast.

Satoru carefully strides over to the crib, his heart melting at the sight of Satoshi, his tiny fists waving in the air towards his father, his little face scrunched in a mix of confusion and need. Satoru carefully scoops him up, cradling him in his arms with as much gentleness as he could.

"Hey there, little treasure. Good morning.” Satoru murmurs softly, rocking him gently. "Did you miss out on the fun? Don’t worry, we saved the best part for you."

Satoshi’s cries quietly down as he snuggles into Satoru’s chest, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Satoru’s night shirt. Satoru slowly makes his way back into your bedroom and takes a moment to look at you, before he walks back to the bed, sitting down beside you, with Satoshi nestled in his arms.

"Look who decided to wake up to join the party, mama." he says, smiling as he hands the baby to you.

You cradle Satoshi, his soft coos filling the room as he gazes up at you with wide, curious blue eyes. He looks so much like your husband, when he’s waking up. It was all too cute.

“Good morning to you sweetheart.” you whisper, brushing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You wanted to join the birthday celebration, huh?”

“What do you want to do later?” Satoru asks, his voice light, though there’s an earnestness in his gaze. He watches you take a sip of milk, his bright blue eyes softening as they linger on you. “We gotta celebrate your birthday somehow—”

You pause, lowering the glass, and look up at him with a furrowed brow, a bit confused. “But we already are, aren’t we?” you reply, your voice warm with sincerity. “This is already an amazing celebration, Satoru.”

He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he gently shakes his head. “Babe, I know you’re happy with this, but I want you to have a great birthday. Something that feels just as special as you are to me. Just as special as when you gave me our Satoshi here.”

Your heart melts at the tenderness in his voice, but a tiny knot forms in your stomach. “Satoru, I just….” you start, placing the glass down carefully.

“This... this is more than enough. I’ve got you, the kids, and this beautiful morning. I couldn’t ask for anything more. This is as special as Satoshi’s birth to me.”

Satoru leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a quiet determination. “I know it’s enough, babe.” he says softly, almost like a promise. “But I want to give you the world. I want you to feel all the love and appreciation I have for you today.”

You can see the vulnerability in his bright blue eyes, that rare side of him that only comes out when it’s just the two of you, when the world around you fades away. Gojo Satoru is always so strong, so confident, but moments like this, when he’s giving you his whole heart— to show you just how deeply he cares.

You reach across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “You already do, every single day, my love.” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “I’m already the luckiest person in the world, just having this. Just being with you and the kids is everything I need for a great happy birthday. Nothing else matters but this.”

Satoru’s face softens, a smile finally reaching his eyes. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?” he murmurs, the words filled with meaning. 

Your chest swells with love, and you lean in to kiss him softly, a promise to share in this beautiful moment together. “Just as I’m lucky to have you with me. Every day.”

epilogue

When the excitement of the morning passed you and Satoru spent the whole day with the kids, just playing board games and watching movies. But there was one little detail you couldn’t shake off: Satoru had been extra secretive. And the kids were too. Somehow, you didn’t know what to do about this. 

Satoru’s only secretive for three reasons — he wants to protect you, he wants to hide his sweet treat stash or he’s hiding something from you and that’s either him breaking something or your birthday present. The odds were always interestingly hard to know, when it comes to that. 

As the day went on, you couldn’t help but notice him acting a bit too casual, as if he was trying to hide something behind that trademark mischievously sly grin of his. You had a feeling. No, you knew.

Your husband had something planned. He has to have had something planned. As much as you do say you don't want to do much, you know your husband can be too eager to do something. Even if it's just presents. And knowing Gojo Satoru, it was probably something expensive, flashy, and completely unnecessary.

"Hey, ‘toru." you say, cornering him in the living room as he casually tosses a playful grin your way. “What’s this I hear about you getting me a gift?”

His eyes widen in mock surprise, though it’s clear he’s trying not to break into a full-on grin. “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything, like you told me to.” he says, feigning innocence with an exaggerated shrug. “Cause you know….I’m a good boy.”

“Don’t lie to me, Satoru.” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing as you give him your best ‘I know you’re up to something’ look. "I’ve seen that gleam in your eye before. You’re up to something ridiculous. Plus, Megumi blurted out something.”

Satoru chuckles, stepping closer to you with that playful swagger of his. “I don’t know what you mean, love of my life. Megumi could just be making it up too.” he says, winking.

"Uh, uh. You think our Megumi's the type to do that."

"I mean, it could happen, you know. Teens can be like that!"

"Satoru, he's not a teen yet."

"Yeah, but it still could happen." He points out to you, with a sly look. “Plus I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll love it. You deserve it, after all.”

“Aha! So you did get me a present!” You look at him and he smiles at you. He did not look guilty at all about outing himself. You shook your head at his reaction and then sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly.

"You didn’t spend a ton of money on it again, did you?”

Satoru’s grin falters just for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Well, maybe just a little… okay, a lot.” He pulls a small, shiny box from behind his back with all the dramatic flair of a magician revealing his final trick.

Your eyes widen. "Satoru, no. You promised no big gifts this time! You and I talked about this!"

He opens the box slowly, and inside is a… luxurious watch. The kind that could probably buy you an entire year's worth of groceries. You stare at it, the gold and sleek design shining under the light.

It was probably a one of a kind one too. Satoru never gave you presents that were something people can get in mass consumption. He always wants to make sure you only got the best from him. And he had too much money on him to care about it. Even when you nag at him about it.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t… You didn’t have to do this, Satoru. This is—”

“Absolutely perfect?” Satoru interrupts with a grin, obviously pleased with himself. “I thought you’d love it! It’s a little flashy, but hey, it’s your birthday, babe. You deserve to sparkle just as much as I do.”

You stare at him for a long moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Satoru, seriously. This is too much. We’ve talked about this… I don’t want you spending money like this on me."

He tilts his head, giving you that look, the one that says he’s not going to take no for an answer. “Babe, this is nothing compared to the actual present I was going to get you.”

You blink, your mind trying to catch up. “The what now?”

“Yeah.” He nods nonchalantly. “I was going to buy you an entire island, but I figured that might be a little over the top. You know, for your birthday and all.”

Your mouth hangs open for a second before you burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. “An island?! Seriously? Are you trying to bankrupt us? I know we have a lot of money, Satoru but this is—”

Satoru shrugs, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Hey, I was gonna throw in a private jet too, but… we can save that for next year, actually.”

You shake your head in disbelief but you found youself chuckling at his thoughts. You can't help but feel a rush of affection for him. “I’m going to make you return it.” you say, though you can’t quite mask the smile spreading across your face.

“You won’t.” he says, smirking. “I already wrote a very convincing love letter to the shop owner. And you. It’s done. You gotta accept it!”

You laugh again, rolling your eyes playfully at your husband. “You’re impossible, Satoru. But I love you anyway.”

“Good to know, babe. I love you too.” he says with a wink. “Because I’m keeping that watch, and you’re wearing it every day from now on. Let me spoil you at least, hm? That's your husband's job!”

As you take the watch from him, still shaking your head in disbelief, you know one thing for sure: You’ll never win this battle. You know you can’t. Not when he loves you most in the world.

But at least you’ve got the most ridiculous, over-the-top husband in the world for everyday of your mortal lives together who loves you the most in the world and somehow, that’s more than enough.

"You should have gotten me a Casio."

Satoru narrows his eyes at you. "Baby, I have the money. We are not getting you a Casio."

[gojosoups]

Teaser | Open Your Heart and Swallow Me Whole [18+]

gojo satoru x reader | college AU, 18+

ღ summary: your boyfriend breaking up with you before the start of a new semester was not on your 2024 bingo card, but who better to comfort you than your brother's best friend — or two?

a/n: I acc suck ass at dialouges and at smut, lord help me fr, also art credits to narutoss.ramen

taglist: open

series masterlist

“Has he touched you here?” your breath hitches as you feel a hand sneaking underneath your skirt, trailing up and down your thigh in anticipation. 

Looking up at him through dazed eyes, you shake your head no. A pathetic whine leaving your lips as you feel his hands stop their pursuit, cerulean eyes looking down at you. Satoru releases a shaking breath, trying to control his desire, not wanting to intimidate you. You look up, eyes locked with his pretty blue ones as you practically beg for him to continue.

"Has anyone touched you here?" he askes hesitantly, hands grabbing the fat of your thighs, spreading them wider as his eyes devour the sight of the growing wet patch between your legs.

You let out a soft no, only encouraging him further as you feel a finger hooking under your the strap of your panties and snapping them against your delicate skin making you yelp.

"Fuck—tell me pretty girl, do you want me," you eagerly nod, tongue numb in your mouth as your breathing increases, feeling his thumb teasingly circle your engrossed clit through your wet panties, "right...here?" a choked moan leaves your lips, back arching off the bed in his rundown dorm room as you feel the pressure of his thumb finally on your clit.

Who better to show you the ropes than your brother's best friend?

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[sophiria]

Dulcis Amor

dad!Gojo Satoru x mom!Reader cw: 18+ themes, jjk manga spoilers, post-canon fix-it, references to babytrapping and mentions of birth control, a little bit of manipulation and deception, unmarried couple, twisted and fluffy feelings, vague mention of the reader's hair, implied that you're a little obsessed with each other words: around 900

Satoru was lounging on the Engawa, keeping a watchful gaze on your form inside the bedroom. As you slept peacefully under the blankets, your son fussed in his arms, and the hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Oh?" Satoru breathed out, shifting his child so he could rest better on his chest. "Is the little Gojo missing his mom?"

Your son wriggled slightly before going back to sleep. "Back to using me as a pillow, hm?" Satoru mused. "I guess your dad is okay too."

He had never thought a romantic partner was in his cards, let alone having a child. And yet…

He briefly closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. He had died. Murdered by Sukuna. And you made a Binding Vow to bring him back to life.

(Satoru had been furious with you—he had already accepted his death, and you had sacrificed something precious for him.

The Strongest had never known someone who cared for him as much as you did.)

His son stirred on his chest. Satoru looked down at your child. Fatherhood...who would have thought?

It only took one time, one burst of passion (and love, something Satoru could only acknowledge in his mind), and you were pregnant with his child, his heir.

As Satoru was lost in thought, you quietly joined him on the Engawa. Your expression softened as you gazed at your son sleeping soundly on his father's chest.

Satoru peered at you through his pitch-black glasses and motioned for you to join them. You did so and stopped beside the recliner where your lover and child rested.

You caressed your son's head before running your fingers through Satoru's hair, and he smirked softly. "You're such an affectionate mama," he teased, his voice low and hushed. "You're always spoiling us both."

You huffed before smiling, then gently picked up your son, who gripped onto your clothes with his tiny hands. He cooed, and you tickled his nose, making him laugh. Satoru's heart fluttered at the heartwarming sight, and he swallowed hard. He had to look away for a moment, taking a deep breath.

(That's his family. His beautiful little family. Something he never thought he'd have, something he never thought he'd wanted.)

You brought your little one inside, and he yawned as you placed him gently into the crib. 

Satoru followed you and wrapped his arms around your torso from behind. He nuzzled your neck, and his loose snow-white hair brushed against your skin. 

One of your hands found the nape of his neck and stroked it. He purred at your touch, relishing it. "I don't think I'm ever going to let you out of the Gojo estate."

You brushed your nose against his hair. "You won't, hm?"

Satoru lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and his sky-blue eyes found yours. "You're you and the mother of my child. Do you think I would allow any harm to come your way, especially now that you can no longer use Cursed Energy?"

You eyed him with a mixture of curiosity and apprehensiveness. "Since when are you this overprotective?"

He briefly narrowed his eyes. "Since you decided it was a good idea to sacrifice your cursed energy to bring me back."

You heaved a sigh. "Here we go again," you mumbled. "Satoru, I did it for you, I—"

"I know," he cut you off in a deep voice, raising to his full height before cupping one of your cheeks and angling your face towards his. "I know. But you shouldn't have sacrificed your cursed energy."

Your lips parted as you gazed into his eyes, though before you could reply, Satoru leaned forward and took your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Your noses brushed against one another, and you closed your eyes. He opened his own, looking down at you through his lashes while slightly tightening his hold on your cheek and waist.

Satoru wondered if you were ever going to figure out that him getting you pregnant wasn't a mistake—that he chose to deactivate his Infinity while the two of you had sex.

(He had to do it. You sacrificed your nature as a sorcerer to bring his soul back to life, and he wanted to keep you safe and bound to him.)

You leaned back to breathe in some air and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "I need to tell you something," you said, bringing your hand to his face to cup his cheek. "About the pregnancy."

Satoru's posture stiffened, although he managed to keep his expression nonchalant. "What about it?"

You began stroking his jawline. "Me getting pregnant...it wasn't a mistake, nor a malfunction of your cursed technique."

He desperately tried to keep a straight face. "Oh really? So you're telling me it wasn't my Infinity acting up?"

You hesitated, and your hand left his face. You then wrapped your arms around his upper body, snuggling up to him. The tension began to leave his body, and he held you to himself. "I was never on birth control," you admitted, voice muffled by his chest. His eyes widened at your words—wait, what? Did you— "I'm sorry I lied about it, Satoru."

You sniffled and held onto him in what seemed to be a silent way to beg for forgiveness. His eyes twinkled, and Gojo felt something akin to butterflies in his stomach. "Shhh, it's okay," he murmured, caressing your back in a comforting manner. "It's okay. I'm not angry." He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. "I could never be angry at how much you've always wanted me."

[whoskimii]

THE OTHER WAY 'ROUND !! - GOJO SATORU

yeah, sure, we all know about bratty reader but can we please settle down for a second and think about bratty 'toru ? thank you.

★ BRATTY! 'TORU who loves blinking his pretty blue eyes at you to coax you into having sex with him for the umpteenth time this week.

★ BRATTY! 'TORU who pouts whenever you refuse or give him an excuse. what do you mean you're too tired ?

★ BRATTY! 'TORU whose eyes light up whenever you finally give in into his cute little pleas. you're so good to him.

★ BRATTY! 'TORU who drools against your neck whenever you fuck him senseless and annoys you on purpose when you ride him 'cause poor baby wants you to fuck him out of his gushy mind :(

★ BRATTY! 'TORU who thanks you when you let him cum inside your soft pussy for the fourth time in a row.

"ngh !" satoru let out a slutty little moan as you rode him with enthusiasm. "mommy, s'too much..." you rolled your eyes at him. "s'not even been a minute yet." you replied, a bit annoyed by his behavior. he literally asked you to fuck him and now, he can't take it anymore ? aw.

he sniffed and buried his pretty face in the crook of your neck as his pale hands palmed at your tits. "mommy... sorry, m'so sensi— ugh !— sensitive... came three times already..." he mumbled, his shaky voice slightly muffled by your warm skin. "yeah ? aw..." you cooed and tugged on his white, sweaty hair to make him look at you. he whimpered before twitching inside your gummy walls, glancing up at you with hazy eyes. "y'like that, baby ?" you whispered. "mhm !" he nodded vigorously.

as your pace got lazier, your boyfriend huffed and lifted his head. "what're you doin' ?" he muttered with pink, swollen lips. "riding you, i thought it was obvious." you responded sarcastically. "too slow ! you're too slow !" he pouted, grabbing on your plushy hips. "shut up. i'm getting tired."

satoru's eyes squeezed shut as he thought about how he could make you ride him harder. maybe he was just a little bit too spoiled. maybe.

he hummed as an idea crossed his mind. "you can't even keep up with me," he scoffed. "maybe i overestimated you." your eyebrows shot up at the sudden display of brattiness. "oh, yeah ? you're sassy, huh ?" you scoffed. "m'not. you can't even ride my dick proper—"

his sentence was cut off by a whimper as you finally fucked him harder, your meaty ass slapping against his quivering thighs. his eyes rolled back. "there you go," you hissed. "you're just a brat at the end of the day. and a slut."

his lips parted and he had to swallow to keep himself from choking on his own saliva. "m'not...! just— mommy..." he whined, tucking his face in your neck. "m'coming, m'coming— ah !" he chewed on his bottom lip as he came again, cock pulsating inside you.

once he finally came down from his high, he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder. "mhm, thank you, mommy, thank you..."

what a brat.

- masterlists -

- smut masterlist -

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[herdivineama]

SYNOPSIS satoru gojo, one of the most popular boy in college, plays on the basketball team, has a large reputation of being a player and dismisses most girls, leaving them coming back for more dk why , and you; a depressing fashion designer major, looking towards being a model. one night at a frat party that your best friend, shoko dragged you to, you went to the bathroom to hide away from the party but…

PAIRING fratboy! gojo x reader

WARNINGS 18+ , lowercase intended , cursing , fluff + angst , strangers to situationship (unfortunately) to lovers(?) , badly written smut , fem! reader , slow burn-ish , drinking/smoking , idiots in love , opposite attract + fell first/fell harder trope , never proofread

11:22PM; you shouldn't be here at all. loud music, drinking, smoking, making out in the corner shamelessly. This is not your crowd. This wasn't your fun, it's your best friend fun.

"oh come on y/n! this will be so fun!" you recall your best friend, shoko, pleading with you for you come tag along with her to go to a frat party that she was invited to once again (for the nth time in the past three weeks) "no thanks shoko. i have work to do." you half lied, you don't really have any work but you have work in the morning since you have no classes tomorrow in the morning.

"just this one time please!" she clasped her hands together in front of your face. that's a lie, one time turns into two, then three, then so on and so forth. but you are so tired and bothered by this point that you don't care anymore. "fine, just this once, but i'm not dressing up for anything." You get up and heads intot he bathroom, through the muffled door you can hear shoko's little cheers of excitement.

And now you regret agreeing in the first place. as soon as you arrived, shoko already left to go to her party animal friend group and started heading towards to kitchen for drinks probably.

11:46PM; you’re felt like leaving, but you didn’t want to leave shoko here with no ride and no conscious to call herself a ride home. plan b; hiding the bathroom. you notice that there’s a basement and a unused bathroom down there. you sneak around people and start heading downstairs.

it quiet, if you exclude the muffled bassed music from upstairs, its clean and empty, the bathroom door is right there. so why do you feel a weird sensation throughout your body not to open the door, much less step closer to the door? you decide to ignore it and approach the door, you didn’t hear anything through the door, well barely at least. you grab the doorknob and open the door.

a random girl. bent over the sink base, a drunk dazed look in the mirror as she moans, a really tall guy, looking around six feet tall, really pretty white hair and white lashes, straight up eating her pussy. you let out a small shriek, the girl barely notices but the guy snaps his head around so fast, you could have sworn he almost broke his neck. you slam the door close and bolted out of the basement.

12:12AM; you’re driving home. fuck shoko, she’ll most likely end up sleeping in another guy’s bed in that house anyways, she’ll live. but you refuse to stay in that house any longer, especially not after what you witnessed. it’s not like you’re new to sex, you never done it but you know about it but also you refuse to actually get a front row seat to real life porn show.

you made it back to the apartment, driving your car into the underground parking lot and heads into the elevator. your mind was spiraling, that reoccurring memory infecting your mind like a parasite. the guy’s crystal blue eyes, shining in a bathroom light, particularly blinding you, filled with shock and panic. you unlock the apartment door and went inside; about ready to shut down for the night.

6:12AM; you wake up at your phone buzzing rapidly on the bedside table, alarming you in your slumber. you slap around the table until you yanked the phone off the charger to turn it on. just to be blinded by the brightness. “fuck…” you mumbled to yourself. adjusting your eyes while still squinting.

“hello?” voice hoarse and dehydrated, “hello? is this y/n?” a male deep voice on the other line. “yes it’s y/n, who is this?” small noises in the background, “this is gojo…satoru gojo, you’re shoko’s roommate, right?” you make a small ‘mhm’. “yea, can you come pick her up soon? she has no ride and is really hungover..” you run your temple in a growing headache.

“uh yea…i’ll be over soon.” you hung up before hearing gojo out. yea you’re already tired of today.

TAGLIST @luvsymai @gojodickbig @sad-darksoul @kaemaybae @yukii-1 @juneslove21 @loverzxi

any tags in blue and italic means your tags aren’t working or aren’t on

previous `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ masterlist `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ next

[kitorin]

"you taste fucking disgusting."

gojo satoru gags as he vigorously washes his mouth with listerine, the way he swishes and swashes the liquid is aggressive, and so is his method of disposing it.

"mmm, okay." absentminded, you lean on the door frame, taking a glance or two at your phone as your boyfriend leans over the sink. "i hope you realize that it wasn't meant to taste good— sunscreen. it's not a food, love. it's in the name, since it screens the sun's uv rays. you know? i'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

with a final cough and spit, satoru pants from the mint lingering on his gustatory senses, haunting his taste buds. "how was i supposed to know that?"

"what sunscreen is?"

"no, the fact that you were wearing it."

you barely manage to swallow the giggle attempting to claw out of your throat. "i hope you realize i wear it pretty much everyday when i go out."

he protests. "you should've told me."

"you shouldn't've kissed my cheek that hard then. it makes your skin all shiny and stuff too" you shrug, displaying indifference whilst fighting the urge to burst into laughter right then and there. "now we're late to lunch with shouko and the others."

"fuck lunch i need to get mint outta my mouth."

you respond with another shrug. "it is kinda your fault."

satoru narrows his eyes, petty and childish. "but you were busy calling shouko." you were gushing on a call with her, excited to see each other after so long due to the time consuming nature of college. seated at the front porch and slipping on your shoes, satoru innocently kissed you; opting to plant a long smooch on your cheek to avoid interrupting your conversation—unknowingly consuming some of your sunscreen.

the laugh you'd been holding onto for so long escapes. "dumbass."

"i had to kiss you somehow." your boyfriend pouts, a last minute resort to winning the immature quarrel (which was clearly, in your favour).

"awww, poor you. the after taste must suck." satoru grins victoriously, enjoying the prospect of being the winner of the banter, satisfied with his strategy.

it certainly didn't work.

"boo hoo, next time don't eat my sun screen." you punctuate your reply with a flick to his forehead, one he couldn't predict at all. "must've tasted horrible but that's your problem. was it really that hard to wait for shouko and i to be done?"

he replies as though it was instinctive and without thought, "yeah."

"you need to learn patience, baby."

satoru scoffs. "and you need to learn how not to be mean."

as he glowers as if he were a stubborn five year old, you kiss his pouted lips. "better?" now your phone was reminding you that a very perplexed ieiri shouko was pondering on your whereabouts. "now you've ruined lunch."

he wraps his arms around you. "we'll be fine, just tell shouko we're a bit late."

"but you already ate lunch. sunscreen with a side of my moisturizer. what's next? my face wash?"

"so mean..." he murmurs under his breath, though quick to shut up when you compensate your teasing with another kiss.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

a/n. i lied, the jjk debut isn't nanami (take a messy gojo drabble in the mean time that i got inspired by an intrusive thought) (also unproofread)

[reztoru]

mdni 18+

tw / cw : smut, choking but gojo is on the recieving end, he cums inside oops

Satoru has had you sitting on his lap, riding him ever since he got home. Telling you, "You gotta work for it," but isn't it his job to do the heavy lifting? You sit pretty, and he takes care of you? Well, that's how it usually goes. However, tonight is different. But that doesn't mean you won't whine about it the whole time.

Pressing your hand against his chest and bringing your hips down to slam against his, all while keeping yourself propped up on your feet. As your thighs start to tense up, you know they'll be sore later, but who cares when your pretty boyfriend is letting you use his dick as your personal fuck toy. But it would be even better if he helped out a little, right?

"Fuck me, fuck- Please- please." You whine to him.

He begins to give in only when your hand slithers up his chest and wraps itself around his neck. Giving him a little squeeze. You feel his dick twitch inside you, followed by a groan and some pathetic moans. Feeling his fingers digging into your hips as he gives you a little thrust.

As your pussy tightens around him, his hips start to stutter and his resolve begins to weaken. And he quickly moves his hands to cup your ass. Digging his heels into the bed before plunging into you.

The sound of sloppy sex filling the room. A swirl of your sloshy pussy paired with skin colliding. As Satoru's moans blend seamlessly with yours, adding to the intensity of the moment.

"so good, toru… s'good. Feels s'good."

He moves his hands from your sides to hold the back of your neck, while sliding the other around your waist. Pulling your face down to his as your hand still grips his throat. Your lashes flutter as you feel him shoot his load inside you. Feeling your slick drizzle down to coat his balls.

And after letting out a final moan, you collapse on top of him. Both too tired to get up just yet, you decide to stay like that for a while. With Satoru running his fingers over the grooves on your back, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Taking a mental note to just choke him the next time you want him to give in.

[catsoupki]

當你不在 / when you’re not there (satoru gojo x reader) PT. 1

Summary: Satoru Gojo is slowly being backed into a corner by his father to pick a bride if he wants to inherit the throne, as his royal guard, you just want to protect him.

Warnings: prince gojo x royal guard reader ! soft FLUFF!!! for now anyway, since this is only the build-up for this 3-part (?) miniseries, i’m planning the angst and the smut 😛 stay tuned hahaha

wc: 850

Today is cold, the winds of autumn come knocking at the walls of Oculos, you’re kept warm, however, by the layers that shield your skin from the nipping chill— a tunic in sapphire blue covers your torso, a grey cuirass of dragon skin keeps your posture upright, and a bearskin cap tames your hair kempt. Perhaps an onlooker would’ve found the series of leather that strap around your shoulders and waist to be constricting, but your movement has grown within these boundaries— you were born for this duty.

Every day begins with leading a drill for your brigade. Whilst you stand under the wilting willow tree, you’ll pretend to not hear the soft hums coming from the prince’s chambers as you allow the wind to mess up your neckband.

Roughly an hour later, Your Majesty will finally decide that he shall leave his bedroom to come greet you by the dried leaves.

By then, you will have rounded up your men in two single-file lines to salute the prince. He never spares them an eye, maybe not even a breath. But it’s routine that he comes over to you, blue eyes one entire head above yours, looking down at you with a glint that is softly familiar, and he’ll fix your collar everyday without fail.

Afterwards, he’ll enjoy his breakfast in the hall, while you continue training your soldiers on wielding the katana with sparring and beatings. Breakfast, for you, always starts on an empty and aching stomach.

Today was meant to be no different, your steps periodic as you head towards the first meal of the day, but General Getou stops you in your tracks, “Commander y/n, report for duty in the grand hall. Satoru is looking for you again.” He sighs, “I’ll save some breakfast for you.”

“Thanks.” You say, the wind carrying your voice to him while you begin trekking in another direction.

When you enter the room, it seems that a ball has been going for some time already, despite it being only just the afternoon. Goblets of alcohol litter the tables, and a variety of fruits cover every surface. You return to your post— behind Satoru, on his right. He notices you right away, sneaking past the noisy wooden doors that you never liked, he’ll apologise later for making you skip breakfast, but he can’t be bothered to look at all these women parading themselves in front of him.

“Y/n, do I look fine today?” Satoru teases, cutting off a princess from the neighbouring country, simultaneously ignoring the glare that his father sends him from atop the throne.

“You look just as well as you had yesterday, Your Majesty.”

Out of the entire royal family, the only people who never held a distaste for you were Satoru and his mother, and now that she’s dead, you dare not speak in the presence of Satoru’s father, but you are the captain of the royal guard.

“Son, don’t you think the lady in red is just dashing? I think she’s much worthy of your attention, she’s of noble blood, at least.”

You remain stone-faced at your post, because the duty that you have learned to love comes with the acceptance of people’s spit: you are no more than the dirt on the sole of his shoes.

“Hmm, I think not, thanks father, and thanks ladies, but it seems that I have other more interesting matters to tend to. Have a safe trip home!”

Satoru is used to sending kings and the like home with red, glowing faces. He doesn’t care, he just drags you with him as he takes his exit. And you? You just follow him like a sunflower to the sun.

“You think I could just act super rude obliviously to drive them away?” Satoru asks, white hair blowing in the sea-salted wind.

He looks at you, but you look at Suguru, as you’re still shovelling the cold bites of food into your mouth.

“Their fathers are definitely willing to overlook that as long as they get to have your powers. Satoru, you seem to forget the reason why they’re even here to court you in the first place.”

Loneliness is a cold, unforgiving feeling. It’s not the same as breathing in winter air that makes your throat itch, loneliness doesn’t make rounds like the seasons do, it stays, stubbornly and mulishly rooted at the base of every step that he takes, it’s—

“It’s been three years, won’t my father just give up? Three years, no kingdom ever woos me for real, anyway.”

“What if you just marry someone and divorce them after you get the throne?” You ask, eyes bugged as you finish the last of your meal.

“I don’t want to consummate with a woman I have not a single tittle of feelings for.” You and Suguru meet eyes as Satoru continues to deliver his tirade to the calm ocean. You two will never be able to understand his life, a life of one million suns.

“I’ll figure it out.”

—it’s when you’re not there.

tag list: @hatsukeii @staraxiaa

[kunasgirl]

ONE MORE !

pairing: gojou satoru & fem!reader

cw: cunnilingus, slight nipple play, overstimulation

gojos flicking his tongue in and out of your needy hole while he holds a vibrator to your clit. you’ve leaked so much of your own arousal and slick all over his bedsheets, it’s practically a puddle. he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his finger and thumb, trying to add to the mixture of pleasure hes giving you, all while he watches you unravel with that devious little smirk he always wears

he loves knowing that it’s all thanks to him, the way you’re a babbling mess, hands grabbing at the silk sheets and his hair desperately as another orgasm approaches more quickly than you’ve expected. he’s been at this for what feels like hours. your legs quivering from being spread for so long, your abused clit numb from all the overstimulation. you’re whining again, that it’s too much, that you can’t cum again

“aw, pleeeaase, baby, make daddy proud.” he coos, lips fluttering against your pussy. “just one more since i asked so nicely.”

and with that, it’s enough to send you over the edge, your eyes scrunched as you arched your spine upwards, thighs shaking all while he helps you ride your high as he continues to rub circles on your swollen clit

“always so good f’ me” he revels in the feeling of your cum on his tongue, lapping it all up, before shifting in bed so he’s facing you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you in closer

“just f’ you ‘toru” you whimper as he removes strands of hair from your face to take a better look of your features

“so fuckin pretty, y’er all mine” he coos as he plants a kiss on your forehead

[mononijikayu]

house of cards — gojo satoru.

“Satoru–kun.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it sent a shiver down his spine. Out of all your clients, he was your favorite. And he was the only one you ever slept with. He makes sure that it always stays that way. If anyone deserves your warmth, it is him. Only him.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence

WARNING/S: afab! reader, not safe for work (nsfw), r-18 content, romance, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, loneliness, profanity, posessiveness, jealousy, intimacy, emotional dependency, getting together, smut, consensual sex, P to V sex, cowgirl sex, explicit depiction of sexual acts, depiction of loneliness, depiction of complex relationships, depiction of minor threat to harm, hostess escort! reader, sorcerer! gojo satoru;

WORD COUNT: 3.8k words.

NOTE: i like to think a lot about how gege said that gojo is the type of person that longs to be cared for. and i like to think that in some way, he would long for someone to take care of him one way or another. because he's suffered through taking care of everyone. so, i wanted to see him be loved by someone in a different way. anyway, i hope you enjoy it!!! ill be in exam hall today but i wanted to spoil you all. this is my little thanks to your love. ill be turning 24 tomorrow and i see no better way to celebrate than to write. i love you <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

IT WAS JUST ANOTHER DAY. But you know it wasn’t. It never was when he was around. The neon lights of the infamous hostess bar in Shibuya painted the world in sultry shades of crimson and violet, casting long shadows against the sleek lines of Gojo Satoru’s figure as he made his way through the narrow streets.

His heart, always so guarded, felt heavy tonight. He had grown weary of the mask he wore for the world. His hands, capable of so much power, ached for a different kind of connection.

The door to the private room had creaked open, the familiar scent of your perfume wafting into the air. A mixture of jasmine and something darker, something forbidden. It was intoxicating.

He stepped inside, and the dim, intimate glow of the room wrapped around him like a lover's embrace. He adored it, this scent. He pays extra to know that he was the only one who gets this scent from you.

You in all your finery and beauty sat by the window, your silhouette framed by the soft light, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe that this space—this sliver of time—was real.

Here, in this place, the all-seeing eyes of the world could not reach him. Infinity could not save him from his own loneliness. But staring at you, taking in the warmth of you; maybe you could save him from himself over and over.

“Satoru–kun.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it sent a shiver down his spine.

Out of all your clients, he was your favorite.

And he was the only one you ever slept with.

He makes sure that it always stays that way.

If anyone deserves your warmth, it is him.

Only him.

You knew nothing about the Jujutsu world—the curses, the battles, the hidden truths that existed just beyond the reach of ordinary people. You had no idea who Gojo Satoru really was, what kind of power flowed through his veins, or the weight of the responsibilities he carried. He would rather that you don’t. 

In your world, he was simply a man who showed up, time and again, in the quiet hours of the night, with that same tired smile and those eyes that never seemed to lose their sparkle, even when they were clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. He was just a lonely man who longed to exist with another.

And yet… you were the only person who seemed to understand him.

You were the only one to truly care for him, since Geto Suguru left.

He doesn’t feel so alone when he’s with you.

It was strange, almost unspoken, the way you always knew what he needed before he said anything at all. The way you noticed the small things—a tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders slumped just slightly when he thought no one was looking. 

You didn’t know why he came to you. You didn’t know why he bothered coming here, when you were sure he could find some warmth in someone else’s arms. You didn’t know what kind of darkness haunted him when he closed his eyes, but you could feel it. The loneliness, the exhaustion, the invisible burden he never spoke of.

You didn’t pry. You knew that much in the business that you don’t meddle in their personal life too much. You can only have so much of the person. You barely know them. It was impolite. So, you never asked questions. Maybe that’s why he kept coming back—because with you, he didn’t have to explain anything. He didn’t have to exhaust himself with the abundance of existing the way he already does. 

He leaned against the wall now, watching you as you moved about the room, your presence calming, your movements graceful and sure. It was the same place he had come to so many nights before, but somehow, it always felt new when you were there. It wasn’t just the setting that put him at ease; it was you. The way you made him feel seen, even though you had no idea who he really was.

He watched in silence as you poured him a drink, your eyes meeting him as you handed him the glass. There was something in your gaze—something quiet, but knowing. You didn’t need to understand the battles he fought or the enemies he faced. You saw beyond all of that, to the man who stood before you, vulnerable and tired.

He didn’t respond right away, the sound of your voice lingering in the air, wrapping around him like a delicate thread pulling him closer. There was a fragility to the way you said his name, as if you understood the weight he carried but never spoke of it. That was why he kept coming back to you—here, he didn’t have to be the strongest. He could just be a man, longing for warmth.

“Satoru–kun.” you repeated, softer this time, your gaze locking with him as he stood still, his frame towering but his expression vulnerable. The mask he wore every day fell away in your presence, and for once, his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Without a word, he crossed the room, his long fingers tracing the edge of the table beside you before they found their way to your skin. There was a hesitance in his touch tonight, as if he feared what might happen if he let himself feel too much. He always made it seem so casual, so effortless, but you knew better. You could feel the tension in him, the unspoken need.

Your hand moved to meet his, your fingers intertwining with his larger ones, a silent invitation. He knelt before you, his breath warm against your skin as his hands trailed up your arms, his touch feather-light yet electric. Every movement was deliberate, each one a question, asking for something he couldn’t quite put into words.

“I told you to call me Satoru. No honorifics, no nothing. Just Satoru.”

“I didn’t want to be impolite.”

He pursed his lips into a flat line. But his gaze was soft. Only for you. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about being polite. I care…I care more for you.”

"Satoru." you said softly, that same voice you always used when you sensed something deeper in him. "You don’t have to say anything. I know."

Gojo Satoru exhaled, long and slow, his fingers wrapping around the glass but not drinking. Just holding onto it, as if grounding himself in the moment. “You always know, don’t you?” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “It’s easy with you.”

Your lips curved into a small smile as you came closer, standing in front of him. "You act like it’s hard to read you, but… it’s not. Not for me."

He chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “Most people think I’m an enigma. Some puzzle to be solved.”

“I don’t need to solve you.” you said, stepping closer, your hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of white hair from his forehead. “You’re not a puzzle, Satoru. You’re just… you.”

That simple statement hit him harder than he wanted to admit. You always say it. And yet, it makes him feel warm inside. He always feels validated by the thought of your tender words. It was easy to exist within those words. He was just him. He was just a man to you. Satoru. No expectations, no pressure, just an acknowledgment of who he was, stripped of the titles, the power, the world that constantly demanded more of him.

His calloused hand found yours, pulling it gently to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “You have no idea what you mean to me.” he whispered, his voice raw, as if the words had been waiting to spill out for far too long. “You always brighten my days.”

Your thumb grazed over his knuckles, and you could feel the tension in his body, the weight he carried that no one else seemed to notice. You didn’t know what haunted him, but you understood his silence. His need for peace, for escape. For someone who saw him without the world’s filter.

“You don’t have to tell me, Satoru.” you whispered, your doe eyes meeting his, full of quiet understanding. He was sure his heart skips a beat at the purr the way you say his name. “I don’t need to know everything to care about you.”

For a moment, his guard slipped entirely. His eyes softened, and there, in the flickering light of the room, Gojo Satoru—the strongest, the untouchable sorcerer, he let himself be vulnerable. He wasn’t looking for answers, for explanations, or validation. He was looking for you. For the connection you offered so freely, without conditions, without needing to know who he truly was.

And in that moment, in your arms, he realized it didn’t matter if you knew nothing about the Jujutsu world. You understood him in ways that no one else ever could.

And for him, that was everything.

"I thought I was fine on my own, hm?" he murmured, his voice low, almost broken. "But it gets lonely, even for someone like me."

You didn’t answer right away, instead, you leaned forward, your lips grazing the shell of his ear as you whispered, "You don’t always have to be alone."

That was all it took. He exhaled deeply, a breath he seemed to have been holding for a lifetime, and in that moment, he let himself give in to the need he had buried so deep.

His lips found yours, the kiss soft at first, testing, as if he wasn’t sure he deserved this kind of solace. But then, as you kissed him back, his hesitation melted away, replaced by something deeper, something more primal.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you into him as if he was afraid you might slip away. The kiss deepened, his lips exploring yours with a desperation he couldn’t hide anymore. His need for control faded, replaced by a hunger that had nothing to do with power or strength, but everything to do with feeling. Feeling you.

As the world outside blurred into nothingness, all that existed was the heat between you, the quiet gasps and the way his body pressed against yours, searching, seeking. For once, Satoru Gojo Satoru wasn’t the strongest sorcerer, or the untouchable figure everyone believed him to be. He was just a man, lost in the arms of the one person who made him feel something more than the weight of the world.

And in that moment, in your arms, he finally found the solace he had been searching for. What he always yearns for. 

Your private room was bathed in shadows, the faint glow of the city lights seeping through the curtains, casting a dim hue over the space as your bodies moved in unison.

Gojo Satoru, the man known for his boundless strength, was now tangled in your sheets, his breath hitching with each rise and fall of your hips. His pale skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, his silver hair falling messily over his cerulean eyes, which were half-lidded with pleasure.

You sat on his lap tenderly. You could feel your thighs trembling as you sank down onto him, his cock filling you over and over again with each slow, deliberate movement. He always felt good, he always felt warm and fulfilling. Kind and tender. He was everything beyond the world. He was the world to you.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he groaned, the sound of his voice vibrating through your core. He was writhing beneath you, his usual composed demeanor completely shattered as he surrendered to the sensations you were giving him.

A soft smirk tugged at your lips as you barely rocked your hips, just enough to keep him on edge but nowhere near the pace he craved. Satoru was a masochist in that way, you like to think. He adored this state, being beneath you. He adores it, giving someone the wheel to drive.

You could feel him trembling under your touch, his muscles tensing as he resisted the urge to buck his hips into you, to take control. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. He wanted you to ruin him, to comfort him, to take over him. To take care of him. That's what he had been so blunt about when you first met.

And yet, Gojo Satoru liked power. You could feel it the moment he walked in your life. He had always thrived on dominance, on control, on being the one who dictated the pace. In the world outside these walls, he was untouchable, indomitable. But here, in your arms, in your bed, he was something else entirely. He was human, like everybody else. Vulnerable, yearning. He was your human here. And he wanted that for all of time.

“You’re so… fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he groaned, his voice strained, as if he was holding onto his last threads of restraint. His eyes flickered up to yours, wide with desperation, his pupils blown with lust. “Please……make me cum. Dry me up. Please. Please….”

You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you rolled your hips slowly, watching him unravel beneath you. His breath came out in sharp gasps, his body trembling with need as his fingers slid up your sides, desperate for more, desperate for you. He needed to be cared for, to be spoiled. He had always sought control, always demanded it, but here, with you, he gave it all away.

"Is this what you want?" you whispered, your voice soft and teasing as you ground down on him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of you. "For me to take care of you?"

He groaned, his hands sliding to your waist, but you swatted them away, holding them above his head. His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of excitement flashing through them as he let out a low, guttural moan.

“Yes, yes…..” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "I want you to baby but fuck, oh—please, just keep going, roughen me up. Oh, oh!"

You smiled, knowing that you had him completely. His body was yours to command, and he wanted it that way. For all the power he held in the world outside, here, he craved something different. He wanted to be the one at your mercy, to be loved, cherished, used.

"You're so good for me, Satoru. Always have been, hm?" you murmured, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck, feeling the shudder that coursed through him as you continued to ride him slowly, deliberately. His breath hitched, his body trembling under your touch, teetering on the brink of release.

“Let go, Satoru.” you whispered, a smirk tugging at your lips as you felt the tension coiling inside him. “Let me spoil you.”

His hands gripped the sheets tighter, muscles taut as he strained to hold back, but your soothing words and the slow rhythm were unraveling him completely. He was always so beautiful to you. Yesrs had passed and he was still the most beautiful creation of life itself. And yet, to you — he was most beautiful like this. Being a mess, being loved by you and only you.

"I've got you. Come." you breathed against his skin, your voice dripping with reassurance as you began to move faster, giving him exactly what he had been silently begging for.

He let out a deep, guttural groan as his body arched beneath you, completely undone by the intensity of the pleasure you were giving him, lost in the sensation of you taking control, of being utterly yours.

Just as you thought you had him completely under your control, Satoru’s hands suddenly shifted, gripping your hips tightly, stopping your movements with a firm, unyielding grip. His eyes, darkened with a possessive edge, locked with yours, a smirk curling on his lips as he effortlessly flipped you onto your back.

“You think you’re the only one who can take care of me?” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as his fingers trailed down your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “Let me show you what it really means to take care of you too, baby."

Before you could respond to his words, he was inside you again, thrusting deep, stealing your breath with every stroke. You gasped in surprise and pleasure as you feel the weight of his body crushing you. The intensity, the way he completely dominated the moment, left you reeling, unable to do anything but cling to him.

“You should quit this stupid job. I don't care if you only talk to everyone. I don't care if I'm the only one you sleep with, baby.” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips moved with relentless precision. “'ant you to be my wife. Only mine, won’t you? For forever! Give me a shot, baby….I know…. I know you keep saying no. But I…I get jealous, you know?”

His pace quickened, each thrust more possessive, more consuming than the last. He always says this to you. Ten years and he hasn't stopped. But somehow, there was that intensity each and everytime. Each and every animalistic encounter shattered you, ruined you—for everyone else. You belonged to him. Only him.

His bright cerulean eyes never left yours, as if to drive home every word he spoke, as if he wanted to imprint himself onto you. You tried to hold on to him, but it did not help as the power of his thrusts shook you over and over in a pandemonium of pleasure.

"I can’t help it. I want to because that's how I keep you but I....." he admitted, his voice dripping with that familiar cocky confidence, yet laced with something more primal. "I think about those pathetic men, those stupid clients of yours. The way they all look at you. Oh, it drived me crazy! I hate it. I wish I could—"

His words cut off with a groan, and his hand slid up your throat, holding you in place as he stared down at you with raw intensity. "I wish I could kill them. I wish I could get rid of them. I wish they would just disappear. I wish I could kill every man in the world to just keep you for myself. You and me in our cage like this."

A shiver ran through you, both from his words and the feeling of him inside you, completely overwhelming you in every sense. He meant every single bit of what he said. And this time, you feel like he will actually go through with it. You feel like he will actually lock you away with him. To soothe his misery, to love you, to curse you—to be with him. Only him.

You knew he did. And that has made you more and more excited. You knew you shouldn't. You knew you don't think you should wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his torso, to pull him closer. But you do it anyway. You love this man, you didn't want to admit it. You didn't want to admit it. But you were in the high of pleasure and sometimes, there is honesty in the way you kerp him closer as the pleasure bleeds you through. And that made sure you couldn’t think straight.

His lips brutishly crashed down onto yours in a bruising kiss, desperate and hungry. And you return it back just as hungry, just as animalistic, just as brutishly. When he parts from you, a string of your pleasure lips leaves both your lips as he drives deeper inside. You groan, feeling his head rest on your sides. He leans on your cheek, the sweat of two birds in this cage blending into one.

“You belong to me, baby.” he whispered fiercely between kisses. “Only me. Let me take care of you, forever. Quit everything else. I’ll spoil you every day. I’ll love you so much, you won’t need anything else.”

His grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you that this was your favorite, Gojo Satoru —your frequent customer, your incessant lover, and sometimes, your ruthless hunter. And he was searing it all in your memory. Every thrust, every word, felt like a vow, a promise that you were his, completely and utterly, just as he was yours.

"Say it, hm?" he breathed against your lips, slowing just enough to make you crave more. "Say you’ll be mine, baby. You know you want to. Say it, oh–say it. Only mine."

Your breath hitched as he hovered above you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. Satoru’s hand on your throat was a reminder of just how easily he could dominate, how much he craved control over you, especially now.

“I’m already yours, Satoru.” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm. But it wasn’t enough for him—not tonight. “Only yours…years ago. Y'know that! I....h—only yours.”

He smirked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Not like this. Not just tonight.” he murmured, his fingers tightening ever so slightly as he continued to move inside you, deliberate and slow, driving you wild with each agonizingly deep thrust.

“I want you to quit, okay? For good. No more work, no more clients. No more others. Just me.” His other hand slid down your body, tracing patterns that made your pulse race. “I want you to be mine. Only mine. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else near you.”

The possessiveness in his voice made your heart race, a mixture of arousal and something else—something darker. You could feel the desperation in him, the way his jealousy simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

He couldn’t help it, and you knew it. From all these years you had known Gojo Satoru, the one thing you gathered from his stories, from how he bought all of your time when he was here — is that he wasn’t used to sharing, and when it came to you, there was no middle ground. Nothing will stop him.

“Please…....” you started, but your words were cut off as his lips crashed down onto yours again, silencing any protest. His kiss was bruising, demanding, and when he pulled back, his expression was fierce.

“Say it, hm?” he demanded, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. His hips picked up speed again, his thrusts hard and purposeful. “Say you’ll quit. Say you’ll be mine, that you’ll be my pretty little wife. I need to hear it.”

You bit your lip, your mind reeling from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, your body practically melting beneath him. His hand slid down from your throat to your waist, gripping you tightly as he drove into you harder, relentless in his pursuit of your submission.

“I hate it.” he groaned, his words laced with frustration and desire. “I hate everyone else. I hate them. I need them gone. I need them to leave you alone. I need you. Just you.”

“Satoru, oh….” you gasped, your fingers digging into his arms as you tried to hold on, tried to ground yourself in the storm of his possessiveness. He was everywhere. His touch, his breath, the weight of his body pinning you down—it was all too much, and yet not enough. You needed more, craved it, and he knew it.

“You want to belong to me. You promised. ” he whispered harshly, his pace quickening as he drove you closer to the edge. “So, uh, just come with me. Let me take care of everything. Let those old geezers cry about tradition. I don't care about their tears. I want you. You won’t need anything else but me.”

The sheer force of his words, the conviction in his voice, pushed you closer and closer to the depths of this house of cards. In his arms. No matter how it falls. You surrendered to fate. To him. You always have. And again, you will. It wasn’t just about possession—it was about his need to keep you safe, to protect you from the world, even from his own jealousy. And you wanted him to continue. Because you loved him. More than you could even understand. You were trapped in that the moment his eyes burned yours.

“I’ll spoil you every day, little wife. My baby.” he promised between ragged breaths, his pace relentless now, his grip tightening around you as his body trembled with the strain of holding back. “Just say it. Say you’re mine, forever.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt yourself teetering on the brink, his words and his touch driving you to the edge of pleasure and submission. You met his gaze, your voice shaky but resolute as you whispered the words he needed to hear.

“I’m yours, Satoru. Only yours. Forever.”

At that moment, the tension in him broke. His hands gripped your hips possessively as he took you completely, a deep, guttural groan escaping his throat as he claimed you fully. The intensity of it all—his desire, his need, his jealousy consumed you both, and you felt yourself unravel beneath him.

He held you tightly as you both came undone together, his forehead resting against yours as his breathing slowed, the aftermath of the storm leaving you both trembling and sated.

“Mine. You.” he whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before. His voice was quieter now, filled with something softer, more vulnerable. “You’re mine. And I’ll take care of you. Always.”

You could feel the truth in his words, the promise behind them, and as you lay there in his arms, you realized just how deep his love ran—possessive, yes, but also protective, unwavering in its devotion.

And as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you knew he meant every word. You both don’t have to be alone in this world. Even if you both are locked up alone in this cage only for two. Even in a house of cards. As long if its you. If you're together. That's enough for Satoru. And it's enough for you.

"I love you." Gojo Satoru whipers to you.

You do not say it back to him.

But he knew, the pull of your arms on his chest was more than enough.

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Bittersweet Savior

Gojo x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Things quickly go awry when you get sent on an emergency mission with your lover. When you both get split up, it's not long before this mission turns into a different kind of emergency.

Warnings: Profanity, Blood, Descriptions of reader getting their ass absolutely handed to them, Near death experience.

SMACK

The last thing you expected when you got sent on this mission with Satoru was to be launched through a wall by your fucking face. But as you blinked your eyes open through the incessant ringing and metallic taste on your tongue willing them to stay closed, you realized that this mission may have been a little (a lot) above your pay grade. The chewing out you were going to give Yaga after this mission might even rivel whatever injury Satoru’s going to tear you a new one for. At this point it seemed like the higher ups were trying to kill you.

You were barely able to stand up on shaky legs and a shitty sense of balance from your clearly concussed mind, but you managed. Alas, you stumbled, hand shooting out to what was left of the decimated wall for balance, as your other hand came up to use your technique. When, again, your body was shoved back in to the pile of rubble you had just climbed from. Your back hit the concrete with a sickening crunch, and a wail left you when you felt pain explode along your shoulder blades and cascade down your back like molten lava. Your head fell back, your neck resting at an odd angle as you sat locked in a world of agony. You tried your best to breath though it, but your chest heaved as you attempted to get your bearings. The next time someone at the school told you to fucking box breathe to cope during missions, was the day you would be put to death for murder.

The curse was seemingly toying with you as it stalked towards you with a sadistic grin, it’s skin a grotesque green with shell like shield formations covering it, It’s armor barely chipping against your prior use of your technique. You gritted your teeth upon realizing Gojo hadn’t returned since the cursed spirit had split you up with it’s multiple copies crowding the man. And if he was having trouble getting through multiple of them, it meant that this was a special grade, and your chances of getting through this one were slim to none.

Your body had become essentially numb to the pain as you backed yourself up the piled of rubble, your hands gripping the concrete as it sliced through your palms. You gritted your teeth, ignoring the crackles of pain shooting off along your spine as you tried to steady your breathing for the second time. Your hand raised as it curled into a fist, focusing your cursed energy into your palm as you let go of your middle and ring finger. Your technique manifested as a slice of wind launched towards the curse, cutting through the ground in its wake as it hurdled its way towards its target. You could hear it howl as it sliced through the air, tearing up the existing rubble and raking up pieces of it with its momentum.

The curse was flung onto its back as it collided with your cursed energy, throwing it across the ground, pieces of concrete and rock chipped at its armor as it was dragged further and further from you. You watched it tumble, rolling over a couple times as it’s hands gripped at the ground in a desperate attempt to slow its speed, despite the blade of wind actively shoving it further. Your technique only stopped when it slammed the cursed spirit into a building, the structure swaying at the impact as a cloud of dust and debris surfaced from the landing. A silence fell over the barren what once was a street, now more of a warzone, but it was short lived as you saw movement from among the cloud. It didn’t take long for the spirit to get up again, and your heart plummeted as you realized how little your technique did to it. It screeched as it got up, the sound piercing your eardrums as you flinched from the jolt of pain it sent through you.

A switch seemed to flip in your mind as you shot up, getting up off the rubble, deciding that it would be better to flee with your life than to try and fight a losing battle. Your palms left bloody handprints on the bits of rock and shale as you scrambled to get off the pile, feet clambering down the pile of blood-stained cement as you pushed yourself off of it, feet hitting solid ground as you broke into a sprint. You stumbled the slightest bit, but righted yourself as you attempted to fend off the violent nausea that plagued your sense of balance and direction. A steady burn started in your lungs as your fatigued body tried to keep up with the added exertion, your feet clapping against the ground as you ran with everything you had left in you.

Adrenaline shot through you when a solid object was thrown into your side, the shrapnel cutting through your hip and throwing you off balance as you were mercilessly thrown to the ground. Your body skidded across the tarmac as the wind was knocked out of you, coming to a stop as you hiccupped, heaving in a futile attempt to get air into your lungs. A grotesque wheezing sound came from you as you tried yet again, the strain in your chest finally letting up as you greedily sucked in mouthfuls of air. A sense of dread settled in the pit that had formed in your stomach, your throat closing up as a sense of panic took hold of you. You didn’t need to look down to know that the freshly made wound in your side was bleeding heavily, you could tell from how cold it felt when the wind brushed against it. You sensed that the absence of pain was due to shock, and that only meant that the injury was severe enough for your body to block it out. Your forehead came to rest on the hard asphalt, your body shaking from the shock your body was put under as you quickly weighed your options.

You assessed your physical state, and you really didn’t need to think too hard as you deduced that you were entirely fucked.

You had essentially accepted your fate by the time you had flipped over, and for a brief moment you wondered how Shoko would react to seeing your corpse in the mortuary. You felt the faintest sense of guilt at that sentiment, maybe if you had defected like Suguru, maybe you’d have been able to spare her the disappointment of seeing another one of her childhood friends exit the Jujutsu world, only this time in a body bag.

SMACK

That thought was quickly interrupted as the curse was kindly launched through a wall by it’s fucking face.

You didn’t even get a chance to process the relief at this development, as you saw a platinum head of hair pop in your vision and a hand come to pull his blindfold off as he stared down at you with those damn near blinding blue eyes of his. A grin spread across his features, a chuckle emanating from him as he looked you over.

“You don’t look so hot, princess.” He remarked slyly.

“Oh yeah, I’m great, thanks for asking.” You wheezed, hand coming to press into your side with a hiss. You flinched at the pressure, beginning to feel the warmth of your own blood flow through the spaces between your fingers. You felt the large divot that was now engraved in your side, and blinked up at Gojo when you saw his expression falter at the amount of blood beginning to pool around you. His signature smile fell slightly, silently examining you before pivoting around to face the curse head on.

“Just give me a minute to deal with this.” He said softly, and you nodded your head lightly. “Take all the time you need.” You hummed, a soft groan falling out of you as the shock began to wear off. You began to feel the steady thrum of pain throb through your being, squirming slightly as you laid on the ground.

You could hear the shuffle of rubble through the soft ringing in your ears. One second your eyes were on Satoru, and the next he had vanished, you barely had a second to flick your eyes over to the curse as you heard him sprint towards it with frightening speed. You saw his figure practically fly through the air as he cocked his leg back only to swing it at the cursed spirit. With a sickening crack, the curses head flew through the air, splitting it’s armor and leaving a stump in it’s wake. You flinched at the sight, tearing your eyes away as you heard its head roll across the dust scattered road.

You blinked and he was at your side yet again, face unreadable as he directed both of your hands over to your sliced open side. “Keep pressure on it.” He said, eyes flicking over your face as you laughed weakly. “Aww, c’mon don’t be like that, what happened to the cocky Satoru that never takes anything serious?” You joked, wincing as you obeyed his order, forcing your hands harder into your side. You struggled to keep pressure on it as you began to shake, hands trembling as they began to feel sticky from the blood.

“Shut up.” He scoffed, scooping one hand under your legs and another under your shoulders as he hoisted you up. A yell of pain left you at the movement, and his face fell the slightest bit as he adjusted you in his hold. “You’re pale, I’ve gotta get you to Shoko.” He stated softly, voice laced with a twinge of- dare you say- concern? Your laugh came out as more of a weak wheeze, head leaning against his shoulder as you stared up at him. “Yeah, I dunno about you but-“ you sucked in a breath of air, finding it getting harder to breathe as you gritted your teeth. “People usually get pale when they’re bleeding out.” You finished, eyebrows furrowing as a wave of nausea hit you.

A small smirk crept onto his face as he shrugged his shoulders lightly, your figure dipping the slightest bit with the movement. “I wouldn’t know, never bled out before.” He said with a huff. You snickered, shaking your head lightly as laughter wracked through you. A wave of pain hit you immediately after, and you tensed in his hold. “Ugh you’re such a dick.”

Your eyes slipped closed as you rested your head against his chest, feeling your surroundings change as you snapped them open again in surprise. You quickly took note of the beds that took up the room, and your jaw fell in astonishment as you blinked in shock. Your eyes flickered up to him, Brows knitting together in confusion as you realized what he had done. “Did you just-“

He cut you off, cocking a brow as he spoke. “Warp you to the infirmary? You really thought I was going to let you bleed out in the street? Wow, you wound me. Truly I don’t think I could ever recover-“ You cut him off with a soft slap to the chest, the action leaving a bloody handprint on his pristine white shirt. A groan sounding from you as you listen to him ramble about your subsequent betrayal.

“Just set me down and go get Shoko before you’re the one that ends up in a recovery bed.”

[superluver]

Happy Hands G.S.

Pairing: teen!Gojo Satoru x teenFEM!Reader

wc: 1154 | cw: CURSING, shoko smoking, Satoru being super annoying, reader beats up satoru, fem!reader, reader has the patience of a philosopher, crackfic, vomiting, NOT PROOFREAD PER USUAL 😋😋

Description: Satoru is annoying the living shit out of you, so you beat him up

(Someone submit something for me to write 😔)

“DUH DUH DUH DUHHHHH,” you make the beat of the song in front of the two.

Shoko stares at you with furrowed eyebrows, thinking hard. Chewing her cigarette, she waves her hand.

“Wait- wait, do it again.”

“Like everyone knows this song!— Or at least the person that made this song." You shout at her. Suguru snaps his fingers, your heart skips a beat, someone finally got it—

“Happy birthday.” He says with full confidence, then leans back in his seat with a smile. What he doesn’t expect is for you to punch his desk, causing it to explode. The wood scatters around the room like a mini bomb went off.

The screeches of his chair sliding on the ground fill the room as he backs from you.

“It was obviously Michael Jackson.” A voice from the door rolls his eyes. Satoru, in all his glory. He goes to sit down beside Shoko, but you kick his seat before he could take a seat.

“You weren’t playing.” You tell him dryly.

Shoko feels shivers crawl up her back. It’s not that you’re stronger than Gojo. No way, in combat he would 100% win. But, it’s just that your family is known to break infinity.

Cursed hands, family born with seals on their hands. Much like the inumaki clan, the (l/n) clan their own powerful seal.

“(N/n)?! Are you still mad at me, seriously?!” He pouts, dragging his seat back to his desk.

You clench your fists, staring down at him but not saying anything.

Shoko thinks three punches, and it’ll go down. Suguru thinks one if he can rile you up real good: One to break, another for the punch.

That’s what he was trying to do anyway. Yesterday, Satoru put cockroaches in your closet to get you angry enough to destroy his infinity because you refused to reason with him at 10:00 in the evening. But you didn’t get mad at him. No, mad wouldn’t even describe how you were feeling.

It was pure rage.

But you didn’t take it out on him. Instead, you went into Shoko’s room to sleep.

“(Y/nnnnn)!” The annoyance whines, holding his desk from the other side and batting his eyelashes at you.

“Suguru, pick a number, one, two, or three?” You ask him sweetly.

“Uh, three?”

You nod, clenching your fists before sucking in. Satoru screams, ducking as you wind up your fists, the room shaking with crazy wind. “Three punches it is—”

The seal on your hand glows as Satoru puts up infinity, covering his face. Shoko is standing beside Suguru, squinting as your fist nears the six eyes' precious face.

Yaga though, with his impeccable timing, comes in, placing one of his dolls to catch the punch. It ends up exploding into smithereens, and Yaga, though clearly distraught, sighs.

You glare at Satoru one last time before kicking his chair’s leg, hoping he would fall, then taking your seat beside him.

“Anyone want to tell me what was happening here?”

The three glare at Satoru, who smiles innocently. Raising his hand up in the air, “I was brutally assaulted by (Y/N) senseiiii!”

“I didn’t even touch you.”

“You put cockroaches in her closet.”

“I think you deserved it,” Suguru finishes off the complaints, smiling sweetly as his friend is put in hot water.

Yaga furrows his eyebrows, rubbing the corners of his eyes as he tiredly groans. “It’s too early to deal with the four of you—”

“It’s only one of us, sensei!” You chirp, trying to be polite, but Satoru can see your glare at him through your kind face.

Yaga sighs before turning to the board, with chalk in his hand, he begins the lesson of the day.

-

“How boooring!” You stretch, making your way to tree where the four of you— yes, including Satoru— would be eating lunch.

Shoko passes you a mason jar to open for her, and you take it.

It shatters in your hold.

You blink, feeling the liquid fall over your hands. “Oh shit, she’s still mad at youuu!” Suguru teases, causing Satoru to nudge him aggressively.

“I’m fine,” You hold your hand out to Shoko once more, “Hand me another one.”

Hesitantly, she digs in the basket, taking another mason jar and shakily giving it to you. By the time all your fingerpads got on it, it, once again, shattered in your hold.

“Okay now what the fuck.”

“You’re doing it on purpose.” Satoru tells her smugly.

He’s trying to rile you up, and it’s working. Now, he really didn’t tamper with the mason jars, that was alllll you, but now he’s taking advantage of the situation. He can tell it’s working from the vein that’d popping out from your jaw.

He noticed it happened a lot when you clenched your jaw too much.

“One more time.” You ask, and Shoko— who really doesn’t want to give it to you— glances at Suguru, who just shrugs.

“C’mon on guys, last time. Promise.”

Now that didn’t sound so good. Whatever you were planning definitely had something to do with Satoru.

Shoko, scared it would explode on her, threw it to you. And, surprisingly this time, it didn’t burst.

“Heh, would you look at—”

It exploded again, but not in your hands. On Satoru’s infinity.

You threw it straight for his head, luckily he unconsciously put up infinity after feeling your anger.

“What the- OOF!”

Not only did you break his infinity on the first punch, but it made contact with his skin. He gasped, rolling away from the impact with a still cocky laugh.

You huffed, and surprisingly he still had the energy to talk.

“That was noth— BLEGHH”

“EW SATORU!” Suguru shouts, immediately standing up and watching as his best friend hack and gag away in the grass on his hands and knees from a distance.

Shoko grimaces, watching as you stand up, stomping over in his direction, kicking the living shit out of him.

“I should kill you right now.” You say coldly, stomping on him

“Ow! Suguru, Shoko! Help me!” He says, yelping as you continue to assault him.

They glance away, whistling to themselves because, suddenly, the sky looks super interesting.

When you’re done, you plop beside him, and he’s grinning at you, somehow.

You’re huffing, exhausted.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Got it.” He murmurs, holding his stomach in agony.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, so could you—”

“Count sheep, Satoru.” You sigh, patting his head warmly, almost guiltily before standing up, walking off back towards the school. Shoko snapping numerous photos of a beaten up Satoru in the grass.

“Heh, I am so gonna print those out.” She chuckles, trailing behind your huffing figure.

They all leave him alone in the grass, and finally he can relax with a sigh.

No one can really see hearts behind his covered eyes, and thank god for that.

-

Thank you guys for the support on ‘What was in the bag’, I really appreciate it 🙏🙏 I feel like i should make a master list but like I don’t really say anything on here other than stories so I guess there’s no need for that now. BUT ANYWAYS, SOMEONE ANYONE SUBMIT ME SOMETHING TO WRITE I’LL DO IT I SWEAR 🙏🙏😞

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

"I CARRY YOUR HEART IN MINE"

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology, smut.

Words count: ~13.3k

tw1: jujutsu kaisen 0 mild spoilers

tw2: unprotected sex, creampie

⊲ previous

There was no questioning of your conscience, no rage pressed upon you - you sat in the black office chair, still dressed in your hospital pajamas, and stared blankly at the desk. You didn't know or feel whether an hour had passed or twenty-four hours - you mourned in the dark office, the windows of which were always covered with dark gray curtains.

The dead, unlike the living, don't repay debts - you couldn't understand what you were paying for. Yes, you were a thief. Yes, you were a killer. But there were creatures on Earth who were far worse than you, and they got away with it - otherwise, if punishment came to them, it took the face of death. They didn't suffer long, they had no time to grieve, nor did their souls boil in attempts to make things right.

You were confused. You came to the deity half asleep, guilt-ridden, hundreds of thoughts and memories swirling in your head, knocking you off balance, unable to distinguish reality from dream. Slowly, you put your elbows on the table and almost knocked over the clear glass, and held your head, hiding your inhuman face from the faces that flashed before your eyes. Were they payment for your stubbornness, or were they taken away because you had allowed yourself to be happy for a moment? A haunting thought was killing you with its grief - it could have been a necessary course of events, and you should have retreated, leaving your loved ones behind, without changing anything.

If you only knew the moment it all went wrong, the day your sister was taken from you, maybe things would have been a lot easier. The slightest mistake, and your only chance to get rid of the demons could slip away. You couldn't just jump around in time because of the guilt and loneliness that fell on your shoulders - that's what common sense told you, but you couldn't recognize its voice.

In the corridor there was the distinctive sharp sound of heels on parquet, which grew louder and louder. As soon as they stopped right in front of the door, someone turned the key and, pulling the doorknob, entered the office.

"Y/N, long time no see," Laitta greeted you cheerfully, turning on the light in the room - you couldn't even hear the surprise in her voice, and you got a sense of deja vu.

She didn't pay attention to your appearance or your condition - Laitta walked smoothly to the table, and you stood up to make room for her. You turned cautiously and locked gazes with each other as the goddess sat down, and you exhaled, stepping around the table to stand across from her.

She flipped back her dark curls, sighed contentedly, pushed her laptop to her side, and opened one of the folders on the table, pouring whiskey from a crystal decanter into a clear glass. The goddess didn't care about you - you were a ghost to her.

"Give them back to me," you commanded, clawing your hands into the table, trying to draw attention to yourself. Your tone was strikingly different - just a little while ago you'd been begging Rei for it, but now you were spitting out orders.

"Give you who?" the goddess asked idly, staring at the laptop and sipping whiskey from a glass. The quiet clinking of fingernails against glass was enough to make you snap.

"My family!" you yelled, sweeping everything off the table, Laitta's eyebrows raised in confusion and she glared at you squeamishly. Her graphite table began to be covered in the darkness that your dark lines carried with them, spreading beyond your body.

"Why would I?" she asked mockingly - she wanted to chop your hands off her desk so they'd stop making it dirty. "You have nothing to give in return," she reminded smugly, leaning forward.

The creature gave an order - you obeyed. You grabbed Laitta by the neck and slammed her against the wall, the impact so strong that the shelves collapsed to the floor with their contents. Open books, broken statuettes, plants, and scattered earth sprawled around you as you pressed the goddess's neck into the wall with your forearm, tears of rage streamed from your dark eyes.

You groped Laitta - your hope was fading more and more with each empty pocket as the goddess laughed hoarsely. "Talking to you taught me a useful lesson," she chuckled huskily, clinging to your forearm with her hands. "Keep anything of value away," the woman hissed, jerking away, but your grip was firm - you only pressed her harder into the wall. Your grin and the dagger edge pressed against her throat amused the goddess more. "So what are you going to do?" she asked with contrived pity in her voice. "Kill me?"

The goddess didn't seem it, but she was on the verge of passing out - she couldn't breathe. The mirth and irony had been replaced by coldness and arrogance. "Are you seriously threatening death to someone who has lived for more than a thousand years?" she wheezed indifferently, sensing your desperation - instead of trying to offer the goddess other jewels, to find a compromise, you were immediately ready to tear her to pieces. That was your mistake, and she should have put you in your place. "The only reason I helped you that time was because you had Atlas," she said proudly, despite her position - your grip was weakening with every word she said. "You can kill me for all I care," Laitta said calmly. "No one will notice the extra few drops on your already bloody arms."

You whimpered and staggered backward in horror and denial - not a mockery, but a reminder. It seemed that your fear had come to life, and you should have stopped being afraid - you had fallen down where there were no ladders or ropes, and you had become someone who not only lived off human blood, but also enjoyed human suffering. You could not justify yourself even before the reflection in the mirror - it didn't expect explanations and reasons from you, it was blind to your suffering and attempts to return everything back to normal. It still wanted to live at any cost, but you had nothing to pay for it.    

Not to return, not to fix, but to hold on to the last opportunity for which you came into this world to be who you were. No one will pull you out of the abyss, no one will pull you deeper into it – just the balance and eternal peace you have learned since you were a child. Fill deaths with meaning, justify your deeds before the silent human wrath, and, if you were lucky, see them all again - if that side existed, maybe you would meet again.

You stood before the goddess who had lived a long time and looked at all the sins of humans, and you wanted to ask her if she had ever seen anyone worse. Laitta didn't judge you, didn't blame you, but she didn't want to help you either; resigned to the fact that you couldn't bring anyone back, you turned and walked out of her office on weak legs.  

[October 23, 2023, 04:39pm; USA, State of Alaska, Utqiagvik]

At the edge of the world, a white mist rose slowly the town over, spreading between the small houses that stood on stilts. Red spears pierced the chill haze as the sun retreated, illuminating the snow-covered roofs one last time. The few people wandered leisurely through the streets, wrapping themselves in jackets and exhaling clouds of steam. 

The North, as always, was serene and calm. Beyond the Arctic Circle, the cold dispelled people's fears about the future, there was no room for worries among the snow and ice, the gusty wind didn't drive home, on the contrary - it made get up and look around, freeze in place, feel the searing tide that flowed coldly through lungs with every breath. The feeling of frozen earth underfoot, blue colors in the sky, and a measured beating heart under the supervision of the harsh polar region mercilessly smothered any anxiety, and every tear froze in the eyes, never rolling down the cheek.

You could no longer see the shore because of the fog, but you could feel that the boat was taking you farther and farther away from it in pursuit of the white whale. You huddled as tightly as you could against the bridge, fidgeting with your orange lifejacket as you were tossed by the waves. Motorboats whizzed by, men's excited exclamations were heard, and you squinted every now and then - you should have stayed home today and not gone along with Jordan. The man standing on the bow was trying to see the escaped whale in the dark waters - white small ice floes in the distance, brazenly impersonating its tail, gave false hope.

You grabbed the side of the boat as it shook again, and looked at Jordan, who wasn't going to turn around at all, just clutching the harpoon tighter in his hand. "Jordan, the storm's coming, we have to go back!" you yelled, trying to shout over the roar of the engine and the wind.

"Quiet!" the man hissed, waving you away. He adjusted his black hat and stepped forward easily, still searching with his eyes for a hunted victim. You realized you were taking someone's place. To be more precise, you were standing where his son should have been standing - that was never an excuse for his gratuitous rudeness, but deep down you understood the man. It's hard to seal emotions inside forever - everyone coped as best they could. He chose to be rude.

Jordan wasn't a bad man - when you'd come to this town and wandered the streets as a homeless girl, he'd been the first to notice you. He'd brought you into his house, fed you, warmed you, and then, when you came to your senses, he'd let you live in his son's house for a nominal rent. Jordan had no sense of tact - he bombarded you with questions, and you had to make up a story about the tyrant father from whom you'd fled. You consoled yourself that it was partly true - you kept thinking of Rei as you told the fictional story.

The faces of those you had left behind flashed before your eyes, most vividly Gojo's face when he found out you had run away again. You couldn't see him, but your mind drew out his painful features, and in a voice that wasn't yours asked why you'd done it. You lost all sleep again, and at night, when the town was asleep and it hurt the most, you'd show up at Jordan's house - you'd always be greeted by a sleepy, disgruntled, unshaven face, but he never sent you away. You drank whiskey, played cards and did it mostly for money - when you realized that the man had a passion for gambling and a complete lack of gambling skills, you had to give in, lest he lose his small fortune and the house. But there's a silver lining - you did win yourself a few months of free accommodation.

Today was your second whale hunt - Jordan unceremoniously showed up at your house, tossed you a lifejacket, and dragged you to the dock. You tried to get through to him, talking about the forecast, but as you approached the shore, you saw people as desperate as he was - hunters crowding in, talking excitedly and getting into boats, and now you were here, in the middle of a restless ocean in a thick white fog.

Everything went smoothly on the first hunt, except for Jordan's perpetual nagging. It was the moment you realized why his son had fled to the big land, to the university - most people wouldn't want to witness a poor animal being harpooned and dragged ashore by its tail while dead blood washed over the blue waves. Even your body organized a protest at that moment, pushing nausea down your throat, but you were only laughed at - whale hunting was a tradition in these lands, a tribute to the past.

You almost flew overboard when an ice floe brought in by a swift wave crashed into your boat. The boats that were circling near you began to turn around - there was a whistling sound in the air, and that's when Jordan came out of his prostration. "Hey!" yelled the man from the other boat. "We have to turn around or we won't find shore!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jordan spat, and turned unwillingly to throw the harpoon, heading for the bridge. "There's a reason they say a woman on a ship brings misfortune," he muttered as he passed you.

"Ya the one who brought me here!" you exclaimed, stepping onto the bridge with him. It wasn't any warmer, but the wind was no longer whipping at your face.

"Missed the white whale," he continued to lament, turning the boat toward the shore. You saw other boats whizzing past you, and they weren't even floating - they were riding the waves. Soon faint glow showed on the horizon - lights in the windows of houses called you home.

The hum of the engine died down, and the angry voices grew louder. When your boat was moored to the shore, Jordan hastily threw off his lifejacket on the deck, and then, adjusting his hat and taking off his gloves, he jumped to the ground. You followed the man, hesitating a moment.

As you stepped ashore, your head snapped up, and you looked around anxiously, feeling the stare, but there was no one you knew, only disgruntled men who were ready to blame anyone and everyone for the disruption of the hunt, even though it was the fault of the coming storm. As they stomped, shaking off the mud and sticky snow, you took a slow step back, trying to get away as fast as you could to avoid the swearing, but Jordan, sensing your cowardice, grabbed you by the shoulder. "Hey," he huffed, patting you on the shoulder. "Get us a beer while we get the boats secured on the ropes. There's got to be some use of you."

"No wonder why your son ran away from ya," you muttered, holding out your hand - you weren't going to pay for them all with your money.

"No wonder why your daddy tyrannized you," he muttered back, but put the money in your palm. "Hurry up. The storm won't wait, and we all have to go home," he said, shoving you toward the store, which wasn't far away, and even its friendly streetlight was hard to see.

The blustery wind made the snow rise and wander clumsily across the road - you tried to look at your feet, but you were surprised to realize you could barely see your shoes. Your eyelashes and eyebrows were frosting, and you threw your fur hood over your head, hugged yourself, trying to keep warm, and quickened your pace. The road seemed longer through the snow flakes than it had in the sunlight, and the light of the store was still far away.

It was getting darker. It seemed to you that behind the creak of your footsteps you heard another one - constantly frantically turning around, you couldn't see anyone in the northern darkness, and the storm, impudent, disturbed and raised the snow, drawing white silhouettes. Out of breath, you ran - climbing the stairs and bursting into the store to the tinkling of door bells, you met the surprised stare of the seller, who had been half asleep only a second ago. "Howdy," you smiled, waving your hand, and the salesman nodded confusedly.

No one came in even after five minutes of wandering between the counters. With a sigh of relief, you stopped at the liquor shelf. You should have hurried to avoid the righteous wrath of a bone-chilling Jordan, but once you were alone again, you were at the mercy of the memories that immobilized you. You'd never tell Jordan that he was the reason you hadn't fallen into inhuman despair, that his every shout and rude remark had kept you moving and thinking less about what had happened.

It's true that you couldn't bring back the dead, but you left the living behind too. You didn't talk to Dany, you didn't see Megumi, you didn't ask Issu how he was feeling or if his brother was okay, you just ran away. Your gaze mindlessly wandered over labels you couldn't read - you'd already forgotten exactly what you'd been sent here for. No matter how much you thought it was for their safety, you couldn't justify yourself - there was always a selfish purpose behind the noble one. Your possible death sounded like a quick song - until then you wanted to live like a normal person, shielding yourself from loss and sorrow. A dull life filled with peace on a far corner of the Earth - an unattainable treasure you couldn't steal, and even holding it in your hands, you knew that eventually it would be taken away by force.

In the north, the creature was silent, though hungry - you wrinkled your nose at the thought of having to go out sooner or later. There was a hospital in this town, but it was so small that there was no storage for a blood bank, which meant you'd have to get sustenance elsewhere. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the first bottle you could find and went to the checkout counter. "Here," you said, showing the beer to the seller. "Need a six-pack. Got one?"

The salesman nodded and disappeared behind the warehouse door. You spotted a white cat with a bobbing head near the cash register, leaned your elbows on the counter, and jabbed your finger at it; it nodded merrily, hypnotizing you. You must be out of your mind to see Gojo in that cat. You shook your head and straightened up, as a salesman came out of the warehouse and placed a beer in front of you. 

The store said goodbye to you with a clink of bells, and the storm greeted you with a gust of wind and snow in your face, tearing off your fur hood. With an annoyed sigh, you pulled the hood back on. As you looked ahead, stepping onto the stairs, you froze - the northern nature had brought with it a guest that looked so much like it. You refused to recognize the white, disheveled hair in the snowy patterns, but there was nowhere to hide from the piercing blue eyes that looked at you with longing and hope. 

His voice didn't speak to you at night, nor did he appear in your dreams, nor did he beg you to return in any of your thoughts. You ran away cowardly, looking for a better life for Gojo - unless you were there, there was a monster who always cried out with terrible hunger. You dared not think of the sorcerer, for every bitter impulse to dream of his embrace was overshadowed, chased away by the memories of what he had endured while holding your hand. And as you saw him in front of you, you were trapped by the repressed emotions rushing out - you hadn't realized how much you'd missed him.

You underestimated Gojo. You couldn't believe that he would follow you, and all his students' words about him being the strongest had fallen apart - how could such a man look so miserable when he had won? You wanted to fall at his feet, to beg for forgiveness, but you kept silent, not moving - if you hadn't been born like that, you could have stayed with him, fearing nothing, but in this life your happiness had a countdown that was coming to an end. If it wasn't a demon that was going to kill you, your madness will do it then. 

The bag of alcohol fell out of your hands and rolled down the stairs and landed tiredly at Gojo's feet, and you took a step back in disbelief, shaking your head frantically, and jumped over the railing and rushed away.  

For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, even if death do you part - Gojo never made vows to you, but he was ready to fulfill them, but you didn't realize it even when he came to the far north for you. He felt your fears as his own - in every word you said, every clumsy decision you made, you wanted to keep him safe, to protect him, to spare him pain, but there was no pain greater than being alone, without you at his side.

The sorcerer was chasing you, barely able to make out your silhouette in the blizzard, barely able to see what was right in front of him. There was only one outcome to the chase - once he found you, he wasn't going to let you go, and you couldn't get away from him by hiding in the snow. Gojo ran so fast that even his anger couldn't catch up with him - it was left behind, left to the cold wind. In his imagination your reunion looked different - amidst the apologies and promises he could hear the ringing laughter, but the dreams were shattered by the blizzard and he continued to pursue you relentlessly. You were as small in comparison to him as you were nimble - the faster he chased you, the more the cold burned his lungs. 

Gojo caught up with you at the corner - you were trying to escape by ducking into a small alley between the houses. He didn't realize it, so he grabbed the first thing he could reach. Miscalculating his strength, he yanked at your hood, and you fell awkwardly into the snow. "Where are you going?" he whined, trying to get you to answer where you were going and why you were running away, but you crawled helplessly away from him, disturbing the soft snow beneath you. You could barely make out Gojo's voice through the whistling of the storm. "I asked where are you going?" he echoed painfully, and you, with your back against the pile of the house, could run no farther. He collapsed exhaustedly in front of you and raked you into his arms, despite the fact that you tried with all your might to shove him away. "No," he shook his head stubbornly, sobbing and hiding his face in your hood, his ragged breath turned into wet droplets on your neck. "I'll never let you go," the sorcerer gibbered in a broken whisper, pressing his lips to your cheek - his strong hands were freezing, but his fragile soul was burning. Your body went limp, and you lost all ability to resist. "Never, did you hear me?" you nodded weakly, pressing your nose against his wet cheek. 

You led Gojo by the hand into your house, and he followed obediently. When you got to the front door, you were embarrassed for a moment for you couldn't remember the last time you'd cleaned the porch - all around the house was covered with snowdrifts, and there was only the thin path you'd made before. As you came up the stairs, you fumbled in your pocket for your keys - you pulled them out and with trembling hands got them into the keyhole. You were afraid to look back at Gojo, so you glanced over your shoulder, smiling awkwardly before you saw him. 

You frowned wistfully, opening the door and inviting him in. It was cold and almost deserted, there was no entertainment, and after a week the familiar faces were starting to get annoying. You, taking off your jacket, threw it on a shabby, old chair at the entrance. The sorcerer, looking around and not noticing the hooks, looked confused and repeated after you. "Ya cold?" you quietly interrupted the silence. He didn't answer out loud, but slowly shook his head. "I'll... um, I'll make something for us to eat then, and you... look around for a while," you mumbled haltingly, realizing that there wasn't much to look around - the little house up north wasn't a mansion.  

You went into the kitchen, and Gojo remained standing in the living room. He shuffled from foot to foot, staring at the couch and the TV in front of him, unable to distinguish lie from truth and truth from dream. How many nights did you spend here while he was desperately searching for you? The sorcerer took a step forward and opened the left door where your clothes hung - behind it was a cramped bedroom. Glancing at the bed, he immediately realized that you hadn't slept on it once. He walked over to it, and after a moment's hesitation, sat down - the old, laundered sheets were too cold under his hands. Still not believing what was happening, he sighed convulsively, wiping his burning face with his hands. All this time he had dreamed of being as close to you as possible, but when he found you, the sorcerer couldn't stand to be near you - he thought you were about to turn him away. You had settled here, most likely living a quiet, peaceful life, and Gojo was a bitter reminder of what had happened. In his pursuit of you, he was thinking of himself, as he always did.  

Gojo flinched when you knocked on the jamb of the open door. "I just wanted to warn ya that dinner won't be hearty," you scratched the back of your head and lowered your gaze to the floor. "I wasn't expecting guests, and I didn't buy any groceries, so I hope... you'll be fine with pasta and marinara," he looked at you like you were a ghost, and your soul turned inside out at his silence. "It's almost ready," you said in a half whisper.

With a nod, the sorcerer stood up and walked past you - you leaned back weakly against the doorjamb, watching him walk away without a word.  

Gojo pulled plates from the shelf - some of them had broken, chipped edges, and he had to choose carefully. He set the dishes on the table and sat down without even inviting you in. Your zeal was fading by the second - you couldn't get him to talk. The only thing you could hear in the silence was the clinking of forks against plates. "Ya know," your voice cracked with excitement, and his heart skipped a beat, but you didn't hear it. "When we were messing around, Frank sometimes set the table, and we ate in absolute silence," you said, messing with pasta around your plate with your fork. "So say something already," you pleaded.

"Messing around? Is that what you call it?" snapped Gojo, throwing his fork at his plate - you shut your eyes involuntarily at the sound. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, startled by your reaction - the last thing he wanted right now was for you to run away again. "I don't... No, I understand why you ran away," he hissed, holding back his emotions leaning against the table, hid his face in his hands. "You think you're dangerous. I just don't understand how you could leave... everything like that," between everything, endless and boundless, the word 'me' modestly slipped in, which he didn't dare to utter. "You really never once felt like calling me?" whimpered Gojo. "Or message. Did you even think of me?"  

Fear clenched its clinging hands around your neck - you had a hard time talking about everything you felt. Gojo was beautiful in every way, except that he sometimes forgot it. You tugged at the damp sleeves of your sweater, naively hoping he'd forget his question or pretend he hadn't asked it, but your silence only pressed harder on him.

You both jumped as you heard a loud pop - the lights in the house went out instantly. Gojo moved closer to you, peering into the darkness of the hallway, and you realized what was wrong. You walked over to the window, covering the glass with your hands and peering through the storm, and noticed that there were no lights on in the neighboring windows either, though it wasn't too late for sleep. "I think the power plant's having trouble again... It happens a lot around here," you muttered apologetically.  

Your breath caught when Gojo came up behind you and put his arm around your waist - not so much from surprise as from the fact that all his clothes were damp and cold. "Oh my God!" you exclaimed, turning around. You cupped his icy cheeks, but it was as if he was bewitched and didn't feel the cold. The sorcerer, feeling you again, covered his eyes and gently rubbed his cheek against your palm, kissing it. "Get in the shower!" you worried. "I'm not gonna sit by your bedside for a week while ya sick with a fever!"

"I don't think so," he grinned playfully, covering your palm with his.

You pinched his side hard, shocked at the insolence of it - at his outraged yelp you broke free, and, panting with anger, you went into the bedroom and stopped by the dresser in front of the bed - a little rummaging through the drawers and you found candles. The locals were always prepared for such conditions. "Here," you muttered grudgingly, tossing the sorcerer a couple candles. "Go take a shower, I'll set up the rest." 

Gojo took a moment to kiss you on the forehead and quickly disappeared behind the bathroom door, taking all your irritation and anger with him. You dazedly put your hand to your forehead - not only the place of the kiss was burning, but also your whole face.

You walked around the house with the sound of running water in the bathroom, setting up candles and lighting them as the flames dimly illuminated the rooms. When the last candle was lit and there was nothing left in your hands, you didn't know what to do with yourself. You had left Gojo unanswered to the question that troubled and worried him - he was chasing you, looking for you, and you couldn't even get a word out of yourself. Disappointed in yourself, you walked over to the bed and got down on it, arms out to the sides - even though you were a coward, you were embarrassed to thank the universe that Gojo was braver than you thought he was. Thoughts that he wasn't supposed to be near you drifted away with the muffled sound of water, and your heart stopped for a moment when it did. When you heard the lock click, you jumped up and sat up - you swallowed involuntarily as he came out of the bathroom. Wearing only a towel that hugged his hips. "Wha...," you began, stammering. "Get dressed!"  

"Into what?" parried Gojo, raising an eyebrow. "Your robe fit me right here," he pointed to his waist level, and your cheeks flared. "Or do you want me to put on those wet clothes again and get sick after all?" he asked, pursing his lip pitifully.

"My turn!" you exclaimed, flying past him and closing the bathroom door with a loud slam. Gojo laughed softly but heartily - you hadn't realized how much courage it took for him to show himself in that state to you like that, or the embarrassment behind it.      

The sorcerer looked around the room, which was lit by flickering lights, and dropped his gaze awkwardly to the floor, smiling sadly. He should have done it, but you beat him to it again. He looked around the room again with a sober gaze. It was empty, uncomfortable - no framed photos stood there; no clothes strewn about. Even when he looked in the dresser, he frowned, realizing it was empty, as if you were ready to flee this town at any moment. 

Gojo was still angry, but he could never blame it on you - he blamed fate itself for keeping you away from him, for making you think that you were unworthy, that you were cruel and bloodthirsty and would hurt him sooner or later. Did you remember that you came to him in your unconscious state, silently asking for help and seeking protection? The sorcerer grinned, biting his lip - he didn't know if he'd made it up himself or if he'd read it in the memories of your face, but in the end, lying on that bed without the black orchid running through your veins and without the tourniquets that bound your limbs, you never attacked him.

Gojo looked at himself in the small mirror on the wall above the dresser, embarrassed; he no longer saw the strongest sorcerer. He was still him, but the face that appeared before Gojo was no longer smug and cocky, and the only thing missing was you standing next to him. When he caught a glimpse of you, he decided it was now or never. And never, taking its infinite nature with it, retreated. 

The sorcerer glanced timidly at the bathroom door as the sound of water behind it subsided. Slowly walking up to it, he knocked. "Mochi?" he asked. "You done?"

"Yes," you replied muffled.

"May I come in?"

"Why?" he almost laughed, hearing the childish disbelief in your voice.

"I need to brush my teeth."

"Well...," you drawled uncertainly, pursing your lips. "Come on in."

When the sorcerer came in, you stood, tucking your white robe as tightly as you could without looking at him, but the awkward and hurried movement of your hands screamed embarrassment. Pretending he wasn't interested, he walked around you and stood in front of the sink - you, chuckling, repeated after him. The only sounds in the bathroom were the water running from the faucet and the rustle of brushes. You weren't used to someone else standing next to you in the bathroom. Gojo was not used to having someone else standing next to him in general.

But you've learned.

You looked at Gojo through the mirror, and you frowned when he looked back at you, but in person - putting the brush in the glass, you snorted and walked out, trying to brazenly leave him alone with his damn towel on his hips, but the sorcerer, throwing his brush right into the sink, followed you. You squeaked quietly as you were picked up in his arms and placed on the dresser - you shook your head fearfully from side to side like you were afraid you were being watched, but really you were afraid to look directly at Gojo, at his face that was inches from yours. "I can't take it anymore," he confessed in a trembling whisper against your cheek - you shuddered invisibly at his hot breath. "I'm giving up," he exhaled soundlessly. "I lo-"

"No!" you shrieked, clamping your hand over his mouth - Gojo whimpered into your palm, his eyes squeezing shut as the unspoken words throbbed painfully in his chest. "Ya can't," you shook your head desperately, tears were welling up in your eyes. 

"Who are you so afraid of?" he asked morbidly, cupping your cheeks, trying to reassure you. Gojo knew you too well, and the fear you were feeling was not for your life at all. "Judges? I don't give a fuck about them," the sorcerer grinned bitterly. No one would drag him away, no one would take him away from you - he could pick out hundreds of words, but in this vulnerable moment, Gojo could only stroke your hair with trembling fingers.

Your wishes and your peace of mind were the undeniable priority, and so be it - his words went unspoken, but the greed inside Gojo grew more and more fiery. If he couldn't tell you that, then he'll show you. "I know what I want for my birthday present," the sorcerer said quietly but firmly, stroking your thighs.  

"What?" you asked confusedly, fixing your wet hair with your hands. "But your birthday is in December-"

"I want it now," Gojo resisted hesitantly, but squeezed your hips more stubbornly. "I won't ask for much," he promised, resting his head helplessly on your shoulder - you turned slightly and buried your cheek in his snow-white hair. When he felt that you weren't pushing him away, the sorcerer stirred and rested his forehead against yours. "Take off your mask," he asked. You, frowning, lowered your gaze. "Take it off, please," he pleaded, touching your temple with his lips - you suddenly remembered how he had asked you to take it off long ago - that request had been impertinent, insolent, and now he stood before you, waiting obediently for you to take it off. Gojo had seen you in all your forms, and you thought it would be all right for him to see the last of you.  

You wrapped your hands around his tentatively and brought them up to your face - you could feel his warm fingers shaking, and you could barely look him in the eye, but you forced yourself to feel what you had forbidden yourself to even think about before. You pressed his fingers lightly against your chin line, and he bit his lip, breathing feverishly, trying to calm his heart - Gojo realized what he had to do. He led his fingers downward, painfully slowly, along your cheekbones, and you, unable to find the courage, closed your eyes and tears ran down your cheeks. "Shh," he whispered softly, cupping your cheeks - you could almost feel how soft his lips were. "There you are," the sorcerer laughed wetly, stroking your cheeks and kissing every inch of your face. 

Gojo pulled away from you a little - the agony was tearing his patience to shreds. He ran his fingers along your chin, your nose, your lips - how could you keep it from him for so long? Your conscience had to get back at you for the sorcerer, for all the days and years he'd lived without seeing your beautiful face fully. 

Gojo moved closer and stopped right next to your lips. He breathed raggedly against them, feeling your closeness. How many nights he'd spent with you, how many days he'd been with you - all of them combined wouldn't be enough to describe a second of what he was feeling now.  

You clutched at his shoulders and froze - you knew what would follow, but you had no idea how the sorcerer would treat you afterward. You had no experience, no loving hands to caress you, no warmth to give you, and you were alone with the fear of the unknown. 

Gojo felt almost cruel - unasked, without permission, he kissed your lips, pulling you to him by the waist, trying to convey all the tenderness he'd been saving up since almost the first day you met, but his movements were curbed by fever. He couldn't resist anymore, he didn't have the strength to live without you. 

Closing his eyes as if in pain, Gojo felt uncertain. You were responding to his kiss, albeit clumsily, but whether you were doing it of your own free will or being overwhelmed by his assertiveness, he couldn't answer. His lips, trying to keep up with his feelings, barely moved, and the sorcerer panted. His hands were restless – he stroked your hair, then your soft neck, and those scars that he constantly touched reminded him how you were treated – only then did he feel how hard you were grasping into his chest.

Gojo suddenly pulled away from you and looked at you anxiously, his hands gently cupping your face. Your flaming skin felt icy, your body chilled, and you weren't looking at him - your black, frozen eyes were staring through. 

Startled, the sorcerer recoiled a little, but he was still clutching at you. "Baby," he whispered, kissing your temple. "I'm sorry. I didn't...," he mewled, biting his lip painfully. He looked at himself in the mirror that was right behind you and saw himself as an animal, no different from the ones who tortured you when you were weak. With barely suppressed anger, he pulled you against him, burying his nose into the top of your head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to be... like this."

Gojo flinched when your fingers touched his stomach - you drew circles on his skin in soft motions. "It's okay," you murmured into his shoulder. "It's just... Can ya slow down... just a little?"

Gojo looked at you worriedly, surprised. "I...," he began, perplexed - he saw no disappointment in you. "Sure," he laughed softly, and shyness chained him - in the rush, in the greedy passionate kiss it couldn't catch up with him, but now, as he kissed you desperately but tenderly, he realized that the dream had come true. You were here with him, real and alive, responding to his kiss, stroking his cheeks, digging your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you. Gojo could endure anything as long as you were by his side. A thrill ran through him, unsparing his heated soul, and he grasped at you shamelessly, his hands digging into your thighs then and stroking them as if apologizing for his impatience.  

You involuntarily pressed yourself against Gojo, seeking protection - past humiliations, oppressions and torments had tried to catch up with your tenderness, to make you doubt, to push Gojo away and close in on yourself as you had always done, but this time it was different - in the light of the blazing fire your shadows cast gentle movements. Feeling how you fondled, how you pressed into him, he whimpered softly against your lips and, cradling your head, tipped you over a little and covered you with his body from the whole world, wanting to kill the bitterness of memories on your lips. The rush could have ruined everything, but Gojo, unable to resist, wrapped his arms around your waist, the privacy begged to continue. Shrouded in security, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and cowardice left your shores - you chased it away from your night with him.

You touched his towel – Gojo, frowning, pressed his hips deeper into your thighs and, whimpering, grabbed your hand and placed it back to his shoulder. Perplexed, you tried to pull away from him, but the sorcerer, whining resentfully, tried to press his lips to yours again, to feel your warm, tender tongue against his, but you stubbornly recoiled, forcing him to answer your mute question. "I'm a little shy...," Gojo muttered under his breath, embarrassed, and you laughed quietly. He scooped you up into his arms - you squeaked in surprise and clung to the sorcerer, and now it was his turn to laugh, despite the weakness he didn't show you - his legs shook long before he carried you to the bed.   

Gojo sat you down on the edge, and he, exhaling, slowly knelt down on the floor in front of you - you awkwardly tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, hiding from his blue eyes, remembering and realizing where things were going. He didn't tear your clothes, he didn't rush you, he didn't threaten you - he was subdued before you, but love wasn't something you two could subdue. Gojo wetly kissed your neck, gently nibbled at your collarbones, and when he faced reality, he clenched his teeth and pulled back. He could shamefully admit that he'd imagined it more than once, but finding himself here now, with you, he was afraid to go any farther. "What's wrong?" you asked worriedly, taking the sorcerer by the chin and forcing him to look at you.

"I'm afraid of scaring you off," he admitted honestly on an exhale, stroking your knee. "I've only just found you, and already I'm doing everything I can to get you to run away again," Gojo swallowed and looked down, and dishonor choked his neck – he was weak before the urge. "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

"No," at your answer, his heart dropped and he was ready to swallow his own desire despite its sheer size. "I don't want that. I want you," you admitted shyly. "I...," you laughed, trying to hide the brokenness in your voice. "Yeah, I'm a little scared, but it's okay if it's ya."  

For another long moment, Gojo stared at you devotedly, and then you felt his warm hands on your neck again - pulling you to him, he deepened your fragile kiss with a gentle flick of his tongue. "Can I take it off?" he dared to ask, rubbing the waistband of the robe - crumpled by your passion, it hid almost nothing, but the sorcerer wasn't going to make any more mistakes. You, closing your eyes, nodded. Covering your forehead with light, almost ethereal kisses, he slowly untied the waistband - the fabric of the old robe slid down your shoulders along with his hands. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, to hide the scars that the sorcerer hasn't seen yet, to shield him from this picture. Gojo wasn't going to push you anymore - instead of objecting, he nuzzled against your cheek. "Hold me," he pleaded, knowing you couldn't refuse him, and you gave in and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders.    

The walls of the windowless room no longer pressed against you, you didn't feel the dozens of clammy touches, you only wished the Gojo's hands were touching you more - they not only didn't bring any pain, they took the old one with them. He would never kneel down like that in front of anyone, he would never show obedience to anyone but you - you breathed into each other's mouths as he gently, tentatively cupped your exposed breasts, not daring to go any farther - you wrapped your palms around his and squeezed it a little harder with his hands. "My baby," Gojo moaned against your lips, and you felt unbearably hot - despite your open eyes, you couldn't see anything in front of you, but the blazing spots on your skin told you where he was kissing you. You arched your back, whimpering softly as you felt his wet tongue on your breasts - Gojo stifled your doubts, listening to your every moan, pulling you tighter against him. He licked and sucked your nipples - he was maddened by your flushed, hot skin, the way your touch silently begged him for more, unwilling to let go. It wasn't a desire - that disappeared once it was done, but it wasn't an obsession - not to keep you in a cage, not to pull your leash, but to tear it off and follow you everywhere.

Feeling brave, you pulled Gojo to you, your initiative got him confused, and Gojo whimpered into your mouth as you kissed him, responding eagerly to your urging. With his thumbs he continued to stroke your nipples, wet with his saliva, in circular motions, and you, losing your balance and your mind, caressed against him, rubbing your cheek against his in brief pauses. "I'll never hurt you," he whispered into your neck, and you frowned, trying to hide the confusion - wasn't that a necessary part of the process? But his words, unlike the memories, felt more real - you wanted to hear them more and more. 

Still sitting in front of you, between your legs, Gojo took hold of your undies and looked at you cautiously - you nodded, biting your lip. He kissed your forehead again and slowly, as if deliberately, began to pull down your underwear. You involuntarily squeezed your legs and looked away, unable to look because of the shame. You sighed in surprise, curling your toes as you felt his lips on your ankles - Gojo was moving higher and higher, kissing your shins and cold knees, and you clenched your teeth and tried to relax, and his promise, dousing you with a soft wave, helped you do it - you closed your eyes and slowly spread your legs apart, making Gojo whimper with anticipation.  

You could no longer feel the scars on your thighs - his gentle, unhurried bites burned on them. You could hear the crackling of the candles in the room, your ragged breathing and the way Gojo stroked your skin. The kiss on your lower abdomen was timid but unexpected - you twitched, and he lavished your worries with a kiss of calm and adoration as he rubbed his nose against your thigh. You weren't angelic to him, but you came to him from heaven - his most beautiful creature that Gojo had once mistaken for a monster, and he was ready to pay for it for the rest of his life. 

Gojo wanted to revel in every moment, for he couldn't hold back any longer - you felt his fervent breath between your legs, and you moved in impatience, touching his hair. A shy frenzy swept over him, and he responded to your silent request by slowly running his tongue over your clit - you tried to pull away, unaware of yourself because of the unfamiliar sensations, but Gojo whimpered pathetically and pulled you to him obsessively, drowning, eager to take all your vulnerability he felt on his tongue. 

Your moans were getting wilder, louder. You tried to muffle them against your hand, biting it painfully - he stubbornly but gently grabbed your palm and put it back in his hair, not letting you take away the melody of your pleasure, the notes he'd been searching for so long. He almost wanted to laugh triumphantly, you had nowhere to run - the sorcerer pressed you closer to his face with his forearms, his palms soothingly stroking your convulsively heaving belly. Gojo kept changing his pace, giving you no time to think, taking all your thoughts from you as he gently, slowly ran his tongue, wet with his saliva and your juices, over your clit, then sucked it greedily, and the sorcerer was dizzy from the closeness - he could only moan helplessly into your pussy as you clutched desperately at his shoulders.   

Your legs began to burn, not from the pain, but from his touch - never a fraction of the pleasure you'd felt before, and your eyes widened in fear and your legs trembled as you grabbed the sheets and tried to pull away from the sorcerer again. "Don't you dare," Gojo whimpered between kisses and flicks. The towel, tired of hugging his hips, slowly slid off, falling to the floor. His hard cock throbbed painfully and he felt like his lower abdomen was about to burst, but Gojo didn't dare touch himself - he knew that if he did, it would be over before it had even begun. But he wasn't chasing his orgasm - his pleasure without yours meant nothing to him, though passion had curbed the sorcerer, but it wasn't lust that drove him, and in all his ardent, timid, jagged and sometimes clumsy movements, he tried to convey to you, the blind one, what you meant to him. He wouldn't run away in the morning, he wouldn't avert his eyes after - he would give you pleasure at night, making you laugh and protecting you during the day. "I don't- I think- I-" you stammered, almost out of breath and squirming, and he pressed your trembling legs harder against his face. 

"Do it for me," Gojo moaned with you, and you stiffened, arching your back - the orgasm drowned out all cries of consciousness that you were supposed to be in pain, and you collapsed onto the bed, freed by loving hands. You panted in affectionate but insistent oblivion, still stroking Gojo's hair as he kissed your wet, glistening thighs. With a satisfied, self-conscious smile, he climbed higher, deliberately loudly and quickly smacking your belly - you giggled stupidly, hiding your face in your hand. "Nom," Gojo bit your cheek softly, and you laughed, though both of you had tears in your eyes. "How are you feeling?" the sorcerer asked, gazing at you intently and stroking your hair - you snuggled into him, kissing his neck.   

"I didn't even know it could be like this," you admitted with an embarrassed laugh, but contrary to that, you didn't hear Gojo laughing - you looked at him worriedly and saw an anxious, wistful look. Your careless compliment reminded him of your agony. "Hey...," you began, but he playfully grabbed you, flopped you onto the pillows and plopped down beside you. "We...," you began perplexed, overcoming the awkwardness. "Um... We're not... gonna... continue?" you asked almost resentfully. Gojo had opened a new world to you, but you didn't realize that he had led you by the hand into his own where you were the only one who belonged. 

Gojo raised himself on his elbow and leaned over you, rubbing his nose against yours and lightly touching your lips with his, stroking your belly. "Baby," he whispered, holding on to his vow - he promised to keep you safe. "Is that really what you want?" he couldn't restrain himself - he sought reassurance from you by any means necessary. You frowned and nodded stubbornly, making him chuckle sheepishly. "Then listen to me carefully," Gojo ordered sternly, squeezing your stomach slightly. "If you get scared, hurt, or you just don't feel like it, you have to tell me, okay? At any moment," you absent-mindedly bit your lip and wrinkled your nose, but he took your chin with his fingers and ordered you to answer with one look. "Promise me."

"I promise," you exhaled penitently, mesmerized by the restless blue eyes.

Gojo, already missed your kisses, covered your lips with his again - he nibbled gently, searching for any spot that brought you pleasure, that made you moan into his mouth, driving him crazy. Hovering over you, covering you from the world with his body, he kissed you briefly on the forehead and tilted his head slightly to look down - he almost burned his throat with his own breath when he saw your spread legs. With light touches of his fingers he stroked your lower abdomen, preparing you, but as he looked into your eyes, the sorcerer saw no fear or apprehension in them, only the infinite trust that you entrusted to him. "I'm gonna try to put one finger in, okay?" 

"Okay," you sounded flustered, but pressed yourself harder against him, kissing his shoulder. After stroking your wet clit and getting an impatient moan from you, Gojo began to slowly put a finger into you - you shut your eyes and he stopped, seeing your jaw tense. "It's okay," you assured him, and Gojo, hesitating, continued - you were so warm inside, so tight and wet, that he, bashfully hiding his red face in your neck, began to pant.

He increased his pace, gently stroking the soft walls, trying to find the spot, and he nearly came when he heard your feverish whimpering. "Right there?" he asked excitedly, catching your moans with his lips. "Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes," you panted, grabbing his forearm, not to stop him, but to warn him not to stop. Hearing the long-awaited affirmation that flew from your lips, Gojo couldn't resist - he sank into your lips frantically, tasting your pleasure, and it was the sweetest he'd ever tasted in his life. Gojo pressed relentlessly against the spot, making you squirm, shaking you free of the last shackles of protection you'd built up over the years - your eyes darkening again with recklessness.

When you felt a second finger, you immediately grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked anxiously, almost panickedly, examining you from head to toe. "Does it hurt?" 

"No, no, not at all," you shook your head nervously, and lifted up and began kissing his neck - Gojo gave in without a fight or objection, his head tilted back and his mouth open in pleasure. "I wanna feel ya inside me," you whispered in his ear, taking away what little sanity and self-control he had left. Whimpering painfully, he bit your lip and began to caress your tongue with his - you squeaked as he lifted you up sharply and pulled you against him. Something rustled beneath your ear, but you didn't dare open your eyes as he laid you back on the bed, and you felt something soft under your lower back - groping the pillow beneath it, you eyed him suspiciously. 

"Why?" laughed Gojo, kissing your face. "We're not young anymore, I need to watch your back. In every sense," he chuckled, tickling your sides - you squirmed, trying not to laugh, and you both exhaled. "Are you ready?" he asked suddenly, laying on top of you, and you felt his hot, hard cock pressed against your thigh.  

"Ready," you smiled, kissing his chin. Gojo put his hand under your head and cupped the back of it, rubbing the tip of his cock against your swollen clit - you let out a ragged breath as he began to enter you slowly. You closed your eyes shut, feeling the stinging sensation that was ready to burn you from the inside out - you realized your mistake as soon as Gojo stopped. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his worried blue eyes with tears in them, and you shook your head frantically, pulling him closer to you, begging him not to stop - he'd promised you wouldn't get hurt, and you believed him. 

"Shh," Gojo whispered into your forehead, and he was ready to curse all the nonexistent gods for not bestowing him with the ability to take away other person's pain. "It's okay, baby," he soothed you as you sobbed into his shoulder. "Look at me," he pleaded, stroking your hair - you obediently pulled away. "It's okay. It's me. It's just me. It's your Toru, see?" under the vast blue skies that lurked in his eyes, your pain melted and stewed. You cried out quietly as he put his cock all the way in, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. "Let's stay like this for now," the sorcerer said, giving you time to adjust, stretching you from the inside. He listened to your every breath - at first your breathing was intermittent, wet, but the more he stroked your hips, the more frantically he covered your face and neck with soft kisses, the calmer it became.

"Ya can start moving," Gojo didn't hear the order in your voice, but your wish was his command. He began to penetrate into you slowly, watching you, protecting your pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders grew stronger and you whined and nestled against him, but you didn't even have the strength to kiss him - you moaned against each other's lips, and you leaned back on the pillows, lost, but he didn't want to let you go - he covered you with himself, kissing you uncontrollably, though you could barely respond. Your hips were touching, and he thrust into you gently, but deeply, so that you could feel everything he felt - the arousal was on the surface, and he wanted to reach your depths with his own. 

"Toru," you whimpered, afraid of the nature of these feelings, afraid that you were experiencing lust instead of pain, and that it could be taken from you.

You clung to his back, to his show-white disheveled hair, and Gojo grabbed at you, pulling you by his waist, stroked your head, squeezed your breasts gently, pulling away from your lips only to press his lips brazenly into your neck and collarbones. "More," he moaned pathetically. "Say my name more," and you obeyed without orders, repeating his name like a mantra while Gojo went mad - the candles crackled mysteriously, protecting you, and the unfamiliar town, flinging blue smoke, painted your tenderness on the walls with a storm.

Unspeakable words lurked in your intertwined bodies, filled with each other - his life didn't depend on that embrace, but Gojo felt he would die if he let you go, and he clung with all his might to your vulnerability. His name on your lips was like the confession you were so afraid to utter, afraid for his life - the sorcerer was almost incoherent, oblivious to the world he lived in, for you were all that existed to him.  

Gojo sucked in air through his teeth as you began to clench around him - he whined and reluctantly stopped, realizing he was on the edge. You, in exhaustion, didn't even realize it before he started stroking your clit with his thumb in feverish, gentle circles - you trembled, and he sobbed as he saw the dark lines begin to form all over your body. "Do you really feel that much for me?" whispered Gojo in your ear, whimpering. 

"Yes," you replied tearfully to his question that had tormented his soul for several years - and if the sorcerer had once been convinced that he would spend his life here beside you, cherishing you, now he knew that he would follow you to your lands as well when your time came. "I feel it, Toru, I feel it," you cried, letting go of your essence, and it no longer dared to hurt you in his loving arms.  

"My love," your neck was wet with his tears. "You're so beautiful," Gojo whispered, kissing feverishly the patterns the other world had drawn on you. He called your name with desperate, intermittent moans, feeling how close you were - the sorcerer began to penetrate you again, his thrust grew faster and messier, and as you pressed your legs around his hips, unwilling to let him go, he began to shake with you. "Cum with me," he whimpered. "Cum with me, please," Gojo begged, trying to catch your lips with his - he pulled you against him with such force that your ribs nearly crunched, and you both stiffened in the mute scream that froze between you. You danced sensuously with Gojo on the thin edge and fell over the it with him - he pulled you with him on purpose, to a place where no one would ever find you. His whole body shuddered, and he couldn't hold back his tears - Gojo sobbed shamelessly, silently against your neck, confessing his vulnerability while the storm outside the window sang northern songs to you both.  

Returning from the heaven first, you stroked Gojo's trembling back, guarding his defencelessness as he left wet sloppy kisses on your neck. Your bodies were so close that you mistook the frantic pounding of the sorcerer's heartbeat for your own - it spread across your skin in desperate beats, making you snuggle against Gojo harder and feel more. "When did ya become a crybaby?" you asked softly, kissing his temple. 

"I don't know," he exhaled convulsively, sniffing his nose. Gojo lifted himself up, brushing his nose against the tip of yours. "It's just that you're so beautiful," he said, covering your lips with gentle kisses.   

"Mm-mm," you drawled playfully, giggling. "You said that a few minutes ago, when-" you shrieked as he started tickling you - an attempt to hide embarrassment lurked behind the sweet, little revenge. Returning to you, a wave of realization came over the sorcerer. He finally did it. You finally did it. You allowed him to get as close as you'd never allowed anyone else - thinking about it, he sniffed his nose again and burrowed into your neck. "I don't wanna ruin the moment, but can ya...," you started, and Gojo instantly lifted his head, blushing shyly - you were still involuntarily clenched around him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized frantically, slowly pulled his cock out - you cringed a little, for the sensitivity reminded you of itself with an unpleasant burning. "Sorry," he repeated more quietly, kissing your forehead. "How are you?" he asked suddenly restless, nuzzling your cheek. "Everything okay? Doesn't hurt anywhere?"

Your quiet, sincere laughter awakened your shared happiness. "I feel wonderful."

"Really?" Gojo chirped softly but happily, kissing your face shamelessly and laughing with you. "Then lie here for a second," the sorcerer said, standing up - you glanced at him, but when you saw his naked ass, you looked away at the shabby wallpaper with interest. You frowned, sitting up and cradling your knees against your chest as you heard him fidgeting about, digging and rattling dishes in the kitchen, turning on the water in the bathroom, and in the intervals of silence you heard him humming to himself. "Here I am!" he exclaimed, coming back. "Miss me already?" Gojo cooed, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. As he handed you glasses of water, you realized how thirsty you were.

"Ya brought... water?" you asked perplexed, dumbfounded. 

"And a towel and clean panties," he announced cheekily, twirling your underwear on his finger. You looked away in confusion, sipping from your glass, but he moved closer to you and kissed the tip of your nose. "I just wanna take care of you," Gojo whispered, dispelling your doubts - even though no one had ever done this for you before, he was glad to be the first. "Here you go," he boasted proudly as you finished your water and set the glass aside. "Now...," he mumbled embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his head. "Can you spread your legs?" 

You widened your eyes in surprise, feeling your cheeks burn - it didn't feel so sharp in the embrace of arousal. But you trusted Gojo, and with shame, but without question, you slowly spread your legs apart, hiding your face in your hands. He didn't laugh at you, didn't mock you, but slowly and gently wiped your wet thighs with a damp, warm towel. You hissed involuntarily as he tried to wipe your pussy clean of your shared mess - your clit was still too sensitive. "I know, baby. Just be patient for a little while," he whispered, encouraging you. When he finished cleaning you, Gojo put your underwear on you as carefully as he had taken it off you.   

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he plopped you down on the bed, unceremoniously lay on top of you, and hid you under the covers. "That was... an interesting experience," you chuckled nervously, still in shock.

"Get used to it," Gojo murmured contentedly, making himself comfortable and resting his head on your bare chest, but despite his sleepy state, he remained awake. He was drawn to the spot between your collarbones, kissing it with excessive care, stroking it with his fingers, glancing furtively at you and pressing his lips together in resentment that you didn't understand his hints.

"Do ya want to see it?" you pity him, laughing when the sorcerer gave an overly dramatic sigh.

"I do!" replied Gojo quickly, almost desperately, cocking his head and looking at you expectantly. 

The patterns that adorned your skin came to life - they crawled smoothly across your collarbones, reaching for each other, trying to join. When they came together right in the middle, Gojo gave a quiet, amazed gasp, revealing a small, black spot right between your collarbones. "Ya can kill me right now," you whispered, closing your eyes. "I won't be happier." 

Despite your words, you weren't expecting a blade between your collarbones, but the kiss on your heart was far more deadly - it killed your doubts forever. "You will," Gojo objected stubbornly, rubbing the tip of his nose gently against the black spot. "And even then, I won't let anyone touch you."

It was caressing Gojo, rising to meet him with its little black tongues. Gojo pulled back a little, and slowly brought his finger to it, stroking it gently, as if the slightest touch could hurt you, but you breathed measuredly, calmly, lulled by the protection. The patterns wrapped around his skin, begging to stay, and the sorcerer could almost hear their desperate cry when he pulled his finger too far away - to where they could no longer reach him. "Mochi...," he began uncertainly, glaring spellbound as he connected with you. "Back then, at the first meeting, you said I killed him first. How did you know?" 

"Because I saw it," you answered half honestly. You saw him frown his eyebrows. "Your director and Nathaniel kinda happened to be acquaintances, and Yaga asked for a little backup... Nathaniel told us, so we agreed. For money, of course," you clarified, chuckling awkwardly. "Besides, the director seemed like a man who could keep a secret. So he didn't tell anyone about us, after all."

"What an old geezer-"

You, laughing, pinched Gojo's shoulder softly. "But we didn't even do anything then - you were doing pretty well on your own. We just watched the show. But a deal's a deal, and as soon as it was over, I went back to Tokyo College for the money, and I ran into... you."

"So it was you...," he exhaled, seeing the light and finding himself back in the day where he had stood staring into the darkness after killing his best friend, searching for the enemy.

"Yeah," you said faintly. "It was me." 

Gojo couldn't have predicted and laid out the cards of fate - neither of you knew what would have happened if you had shown up then, or if he had been the least bit more considerate. Maybe you would have become sworn enemies, or maybe you'd just lost a whole year - he didn't lament the lost time. All that mattered to him now was that you were together, in a small northern town, lying on a bed, drowning in each other. You were more vulnerable than ever in front of Gojo - as soon as he looked at the black spot, he covered it with his palm, and the black patterns, seeking the same caress, crawled between his fingers, wrapped around his hand. Let those who in bitter resentment or in sticky fear once called you heartless burn with wild fire - henceforth, protecting and defending, caring and cherishing, he will forever carry your heart in his.

[December 24, 2017, 08:34pm; Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Tokyo College]

You strolled leisurely along the towering stone fence, the long wall of one of Tokyo College's temples stretched out on the other side - you stayed as close to it as you could, trying to get away from the purple clouds that littered the evening blue sky under the overhanging roof. You looked around absent-mindedly, trying to find a clue that would lead you to Principal Yaga's office - you'd only been there once, and now you couldn't find your way out of the maze. Driven not by a noble goal, but by money, you continued to walk slowly but stubbornly, searching.

The dry, thin branches of the trees that had been lurking behind the stone fence began to peek out - you cringed as they imprinted themselves as shadows of bony hands on the college wall, trying to reach you. The wind made them rustle - when an unintelligible and mysterious whisper crept up the back of your neck, you thought about insisting on full payment in advance.

Tired after an exhausting day, you found solace in the usual child's play - you spotted a pebble in the road and started kicking it forward. When you could see a turn on the horizon, you left your mute companion and accelerated your steps.

"...trust?" you stopped just before the turn, hearing unfamiliar voices. You should have asked for help, for directions, but your policy was simple: don't show your face to anyone. As it turned out, you were already known to those who shouldn't know, and even though Nathaniel vouched for Principal Yaga as an old acquaintance, the other strangers from the jujutsu world weren't to be trusted.

You looked back - you'd already come a long way, exploring the area, and you had no desire to turn back. You leaned your shoulder against the wall, crossing your arms lazily over your chest, and waited for the strangers to talk.

"...your doing, too?" the second man's voice sounded less surprised than indignant. You could barely make out what they were talking about, but your innate curiosity played its part, and you involuntarily began to listen to the quiet conversation. 

"It was," the first one laughed muffledly in response. You, sensing the tension, frowned - never after the raids had you had similar conversations, much less a similar atmosphere.

The more they spoke, the more you had to strain your hearing - the words grew more serious, colder and quieter. "...any last words?" you stared open-mouthed at the stone wall. Your heart was pounding as if this question was addressed to you. If you took a step forward, you could see the strangers, could catch a glimpse of the end of their story, but you were afraid to even take a breath.

"...I hate those monkeys," you squeezed your eyes shut as hard as you could, for the hoarse voice was fading before it reached you, but no matter how many words flew past you, you still couldn't think of them through the prism of sworn enemies. There was no swearing, no breaking of bones, no collapsing of surroundings, all of which reminded you of your quarrels with your sister.  "...a heartfelt smile while living in this world."

"Suguru," you stunned when you heard the name - the first time it had come out of Director Yagi's mouth as he was filling you in. Dead silence wrapped around the dry branches, and they stopped rustling. There was only a brief whisper that you couldn't distinguish.

Hot blood rang in your ears, and you missed the last words. The wind picked up the fallen leaves, and they flew away, thudding against the stone walls. There was a sharp, sloppy sound, and that conversation was silenced forever. The man didn't torture his interlocutor, didn't mock him, only gave him a quick and, most likely, painless death as if it weren't a punishment, but a deliverance.

As an unwilling witness, you shifted your fingers awkwardly over your intertwined hands like you were on the field of vigilante justice - the revelations had never been meant for you, but you couldn't just cut them out of your memory. Biting your lip awkwardly, you stepped forward.

They sat across from each other, their backs against the wall - two mutilated men. One of them was limp, covered in blood, his dead face was hidden behind stained black hair and he seemed to have no arm, while the other, hiding his face in his palm, shuddered. Your heart was pierced with sympathy - even the kindest man wouldn't so grieve for an enemy. You were immediately ashamed of your behavior - the other man's sorrow made you retreat a step, and you were dazed when a dry branch crunched beneath you. There was no time to think.

"Shading."

The man was instantly in the place where the sound came from, right in front of you. And you caught your breath. Lies and pretense aside, you admitted it to yourself at once: he was beautiful. You stood mesmerized and breathless, watching him - his blue eyes, still full of sadness, scrutinized the walls of his home, and in the light of the sunset his feelings flashed in wet streaks on his pale cheeks. Everything but him blurred before your eyes - you lowered your hands and watched helplessly as he squatted down and took a broken branch and twirled it between his fingers. Frightened, you took a step back as carefully as you could, but you were still afraid to move, but it wasn't the exposure that you were afraid of. You were suddenly afraid that you would never see him again.

When he pulled himself up and stared at the road that had brought you there, you reached out involuntarily, imagining you were standing right in front of him. Your gaze focused on the way you were fixing the unruly white strands that fell over his eyes, but you frowned disappointedly, almost resentfully, sensing the distance between you. But even if you were destined to stay in different worlds, you couldn't deny yourself the small inner request to look at him one last time.

"Relocate."

***

Standing on the middle tier of the sloping roof with pointed edges, you didn't notice the devastation around you. You didn't see the broken concrete walls and cracks on them, irrevocably destroyed temples, the trees piled on top of each other and the splinters that scattered all over the Tokyo College grounds. You gazed desperately into the pink clouds, but all you could see behind them were twinkling stars, and for the first time you were disgusted by the sight of them. You turned your gaze again to the people below, far away from you, and they were all looking upward as one, their faces shining with hope and something elusive to you. You clenched and unclenched your fists with injustice, seeing how they were all mesmerized by the sight that was invisible to you.

You'd never wanted to be near a stranger, much less one who didn't know you existed, but here you were, trying to see what made the white-haired man smile so brightly, and you couldn't help but be angry with bewilderment as his body still shuddered in pain before your eyes. "Adoptee," Rachel called to you, climbing onto the roof, panting. "Did ya get the money?"

You didn't respond. You didn't care about the reward anymore, it had lost its value. The only thing that mattered to you now was the emotion this man could evoke. "Adoptee," Rachel muttered discontentedly, and walked over and shook you by the shoulder. "Uh-oh," she drawled warily, glancing at your profile - your eyes were completely black. "Come on, let's get out of here before you scare everyone away."

"Rach," you asked with hope in your voice, looking up again. "Do ya see anything?"

"The only thing I'd like to see right now is money," she snorted indignantly, tugging at your collar. "But apparently not today."

While your sister persisted in trying to get you out of there, you wanted to be in his world and see everything through his eyes. You felt like you'd been looking at the man forever, but even that wasn't enough - you needed the revelation that lay in his smile. You were unworthy to let the mystery open its veil and let you in, but you wanted to feel what he felt, and you didn't even realize how close you were to it, for the new emotions were so hot and fervent that they burned your gut for a moment, but even they couldn't answer your question - what was it that made him so happy that was hidden from your eyes?

That invisible blinding light made you want to cry, and you shifted your sparkling gaze from the sky to him one last time.

The answer was simple. The answer was one.

It clicked inside. And if you had been human, if you had held back that impulse, that feeling would have been yours forever, but by sharing a body with a creature that had no place in this small world, you'd exposed your one desire and let others feel it, trapping yourself.

next ⊳

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖜𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖞 | 𝖕𝖙. 2 (gojo satoru)

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

content: reader has amnesia, pining, oblivious reader, not actually unrequited feelings, misunderstanding, clown behaviour (gojo IS in it after all), fluff, gojo being a softie

w/c: 7.069

summary: your amnesia still wasn't getting better and your confusing feelings for satoru, a man you didn't even remember, didn't help at all. and why did he keep acting so...weird?

a/n: happy april fools! instead of pranking you with a not funny joke like the majority of the internet i decided to give you a gift! the second part you’ve been waiting for for months haha…🥲 i hope the word count makes up for it a little as this did end up long!! i completely underestimated how much work this would be so forgive me for the v long wait 🙏🙏 i hope i didn’t forget to tag anybody!!this time i also can finally say that this is being posted on April fools because gojo is a jOKE! peace and love on planet earth ❤️ alsoo i coloured the header myself as a little extra hehe.

part 1

So. You were in love with Satoru. No biggie. 

You had fallen in love before, maybe even times that lay beyond the reach of your current memories. Loves that weren’t him. Loves that had been lost in the darkness of the six years you couldn’t remember anymore. Years that you feared you would never get back again.

Six years. 

You stared back at the reflection in your mirror, hands absentmindedly picking at your hair. You’ve been trying to make it look nice for the past half an hour but whenever you felt like you were happy enough with how it looked you made up your mind and started tugging at it again. 

You just couldn’t decide how to wear it, whether to smooth it down or mess it up, or maybe use any product. You couldn’t remember how you used to wear it. This haircut wasn’t familiar to you. Hell, not even your face was familiar to you. Your cheeks used to be rounder, your eyebags weren't as prominent before and you couldn’t tell whether you looked tired or you were just growing old. 

“26 isn’t old, you dork”, is what Satoru had told you when you had complained to him about it. It was, though, when you couldn’t remember anything past twenty. 

You sighed, dropping your head against the glass of your bathroom mirror, the glass fogging where your warm breath hit it. 

Yeah, that you were in love with a man you couldn’t remember was only the tip of the iceberg your ‘life-past-amnesia’ ship was steadily heading towards. It was already a mess by itself, sure, but things were worse, way worse than they seemed at first glance. At least they were in this new life that included curses and amnesia spells.

It wasn’t just that you didn’t remember Satoru. Not how you’ve met or how you’ve fallen in love with him. All the moments that had slowly tipped you over the edge or maybe. Maybe there was only one moment that had made you fall for him. Brutal and quick, like a punch to the face. You had a few pictures, the doodle and the promise of the bowl of rock candy. The candy that you were allergic to but Satoru loved. Candy you probably bought just for him to grab handfuls of it and stuff it into his pockets when he came over to visit. 26-year-old you must be helplessly in love. 

The tip of the iceberg though? You didn’t think Satoru returned your feelings. Or the 26-year-old you's feelings at least. Considering how he’s behaved after finding out about your amnesia you were certain that the man only saw you as a friend. Sure, maybe he’s been trying to distance himself from you emotionally, because you not remembering him was hard for him, but that didn’t mean anything. After all, if Satoru felt the same way, if the both of you had been more than friends…wouldn’t he have told you? 

Yeah, he was very strict with the “Don’t tell Y/N anything about the past 6 years” rule but certainly, this would be an exception.

Which meant your love wasn’t just helpless, but also unrequited. 

You sighed, burying your fingers in your hair again and suppressing the need to rip your hair out. 

26-year-old you was such a loser. 

You gave yourself a minute to grieve the loss of your nonexistent coolness, then you straightened up again, carding your fingers through your hair to fix the mess you just created.

You’ve been losing your mind about this issue for way too long already. It’s like you couldn’t think about anything else anymore but Satoru and your feelings for him. Which was ridiculous.  You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about this since last week when you’d first realized that you had liked him, back in your living room when he’d confirmed to you that it was him who drew that ugly sketch for you, the one that looked like the drawing of a child.

Well…it wasn’t ugly…it was kinda cute. Knowing him you could imagine he was doing it to annoy you…or maybe because he tried to make you laugh? When thinking of the little sticky note you could almost picture his wide grin and the way he must have praised himself for drawing such a wonderful masterpiece just for you. Maybe he’d poked your cheek and made fun of your annoyed expression. Maybe he had kissed your cheek right after you’d told him to stop being a menace, giggling against your skin, breath warm and tickl…

Not that he’d done that before. Kiss your cheek. Why did you picture him doing that?

You shook yourself out of your thoughts. This was getting pathetic. Now that you remembered your feelings for him it was almost like they were trying to rush back into your body, like a wave being pulled back to land with force. And with the feelings, the wishful thinking, the yearning, came.    

Not that any of it was real. Your feelings were just a projection of your subconsciousness because you knew you were supposed to have them! And your thoughts were just you being a hopeless romantic, imagining sweet moments between you and Satoru that never happened. 

You barely knew the man. After all, it's been three weeks now, since that day you’ve woken up without your memories. Three weeks. And nothing. Your memories hadn’t returned and you were unable to recall anything from the past 6 years. There was only this stupid feeling of deja-vu you had when Satoru had shown you his eyes and the instinct to call him by his first name when you scolded him. And now those lingering romantic feelings. 

But that didn’t count. It was not enough. 

Why did you like Satoru? Why were you in love with him? You wanted to know so badly you felt like you were going insane. It couldn’t be just because he was pretty, right? You weren’t that shallow, right?

Not that he hadn’t displayed any good qualities so far. He was funny and attentive, he knew your favourite foods and paid attention to what you told him. At the same time he was one of the most annoying people you remember ever meeting and a little infuriating about 50 percent of the time…okay maybe more like 70 percent. And he thought it was funny, too, when he was being an annoying asshole. He always laughed at your sour expression. 

But…his laugh was kind of cute. Even if he was being a prick, you couldn’t stay mad at him for long when you heard him laugh because he kind of snorted when he did and it was ador…Stop.

You grit your teeth and spun around to leave your bathroom. You’ve been spending way too much in there trying to fix your hair, anyway. You were starting to behave weirdly, thinking about Satoru’s laugh and his eyes and his everything. 

Fuck. This was bad. Were you actually in love with him now? Not 26-year-old you. But this you. Even without your memories of him? Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. 

You stomped through your bedroom, glancing at the clock on your nightstand, the time reading 2:30 PM, before ripping open your closet. You had another 10 minutes. You can’t believe you’ve wasted so much time just being distracted with your hair and thoughts. You were sure that when you had entered the bathroom it had only been around 2 PM. 

You quickly grabbed some pants and a shirt, deeming both acceptable before slipping into them, almost stumbling over your feet as you tried to climb into the pants and then almost hitting your elbow against the closet door as you pulled your shirt over your head. One look in the mirror and you pulled the shirt over your head again. It looked stupid. Not a good fit with the pants.

You started rummaging through your closet again, internally scolding yourself for even bothering that much. You were only going out to grab food with Satoru. It wasn’t a big deal, you were sure you’d done that all the time.

Satoru had told you he’d pick you up. He hadn’t told you where you were going because it was supposed to be a “surprise” but knowing him it wouldn’t be anything too fancy. At least you hoped it wasn’t. He would have told you if it was, right?

You stopped and looked down at your pants. They would work, right?

You shook your head. Again. You did that a lot now. 

You finally decided on a button-up shirt, a little bit too big on you but the material was soft and it looked good. You had to roll up the sleeves a little but then you only had to slip into some shoes and you were ready. 

Just in time, because that was the moment you heard your front door open and Satoru’s voice calling your name in a sing-song voice. 

You groaned, having half a mind to stomp out of your bedroom and throw him out of your apartment. 

“Just because you have a key doesn’t mean you can just come in!” You called through your closed bedroom door – you had expected him to wander into your apartment unannounced.

His laugh was just as cute when the door’s wood muffled it.

“I told you I would be here by 2:30, Yn-chan. I’m on time!” 

You looked back at the clock to find he was right. He was on time. Didn’t mean he didn’t have to knock. This was your apartment, after all. He didn’t live here. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, giving your outfit a once-over and letting your fingers smooth down your hair one more time before you opened your door and stepped out of your room. 

“One day you’re gonna walk in on me naked and you will not survive that because I will kill you,” you scolded Satoru, waving your finger at him in a warning. 

The man just snickered at your comment, grinning widely as his eyes fell on you. His eyes were neatly hidden behind his sunglasses yet again. Still, you didn’t miss the way they looked you over, studying you with badly concealed amusement. 

You frowned, tensing. Did you look weird?

“Any special occurrence I don’t know about?” Satoru asked innocently, cocking his head at you.

You blinked. “What? Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately but his grin didn’t waver. 

You looked down at your outfit again, wondering if it was too fancy. You knew this wasn’t a date or anything but you couldn’t help but put a little effort into your looks. Maybe it was a little more than you’d usually wear but you didn’t think it was too on the nose. 

When you didn’t seem to understand what Satoru was referring to he took pity on you and stepped closer. 

“Where did you get the shirt from?” He asked, tone light, as he reached out to tug at our sleeve.

You looked down at it, wondering why he wanted to know so badly. The shirt looked like any other. There was nothing really special about it. Maybe it was a little bigger on you but you had plenty of oversized clothes.

“I don’t know. My closet.” You shrugged.

Satoru rolled his eyes beneath his glasses.

“Try to remember!” he insisted, tapping your forehead.

You sighed, tired of this specific game. Still, you knew you had no choice but to indulge him. He was only trying to help you, after all. 

“A gift,” you suggested.

Satoru smiled.

“Very good.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised but excited.

He hummed. “It used to be mine.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Well…that was something. 

“And you gave it to me? Why?”

Satoru cocked his head to the side, looking at you expectantly. 

You groaned and hit his arm lightly. “I don’t know! Just tell me.”

The grin that snuck on his face was mischievous with an edge of…something. Something that made you feel a little dizzy. When he answered his voice was deeper than before, an edge of huskiness to it. 

“You look cuter in it than I do, Yn-chan.”

You caught yourself before your mouth could drop open, and you could do something stupid like actually swoon. Instead, you scoffed and turned your back to him, pretending to reach for your bag, giving you an opportunity to hide your reddening face from his prying eyes. 

Why did he have to say it like that? Was he trying to be a little shit?

Satoru chuckled as if he knew what you were doing. It didn’t help at all with the warmth in your cheeks. You grind your teeth as you slung your bag over your shoulder, then decide against it, only grabbing your keys and wallet to stuff into the pocket of your jacket. You let out a quiet breath to collect yourself before turning back towards the man. He waited patiently with a small grin on his lips.

“Are you ready?” he asked. 

You hummed and moved past him to step towards the door. You reached for the handle, then you paused. Feeling Satoru’s gaze linger at the back of your head, you touched a hand to your hair again, fiddling with a strand in the back you felt was not sitting right. 

Your lip jutted out in frustration and you had half a mind to excuse yourself to the bathroom to return to your earlier attempt at making your hair sit okay. Before you could do it, you heard Satoru approaching. 

Turning back, the apology you were about to mutter died on your tongue as you saw him leaning over you. His expression was serious as he caught your wrist between your fingers and moved your hand to the side before he started softly moving his fingers through your hair instead. You froze, standing still as he combed down once, twice, giving a harsh tug to one of your strands before he pulled back with a satisfied smile. 

“Here we go. What would you do without me?”

His voice sounded so so soft. 

You swallowed, trying to calm your fluttering heart down as you blinked up at the man who was regarding you with warm eyes. Oh no, oh no no no. 26-year-old you had a point. They had a good point. 

“Does it…look better?” You asked nervously, your hand moving up to touch your hair carefully before Satoru batted it away and chided you for trying to mess with his good work.

You glared at him, knowing full well your gaze had lost its heat, and he just chuckled.

“Your hair looks beautiful as always, Y/n chan, I just helped improve it,” he soothed you, waving his hand with a silly grin.

You bit your lip, averting your gaze.

“I guess it’s just different from what I remember.”

He hummed noncommittally. Then he opened the door wide, waving his other hand to motion you to go first. The crooked smile resting on his face at that moment did not leave your mind all night.

—

“You’re such a chicken, Yn-cha,” Satoru teased.

You gasped, offended. “Am not!”

He poked your cheek with a soft chuckle. “Such a chicken!”

You batted his hand away, contemplating for a second if you should just bite it. You had quickly noticed that Satoru drove one to measurements like those. Would you ever consider biting anyone else’s hand? No, not in a million years. But the man was so infuriating sometimes it just awoke this urge in you.

Satoru grinned like he knew exactly what you had thought, wiggling his fingers in the air between you as if to dare you to do it. Sometimes it really seemed like he could read your mind. You blamed it on your apparently close friendship before the whole amnesia thing. 

When you didn’t actually attempt to sink your teeth into his skin he let his hand fall to the side and stuck out his tongue. You punched his arm with a huff, leading him to let out a dramatic whine.

You couldn’t believe you actually liked this dork. It was still a mystery to you, even now that you’ve finally accepted your fate. After the not-date, it was hard not to. The night wasn’t very eventful, you had only visited a little ice cream parlour and walked around the city a little. 

Satoru had been an absolute menace and dragged you into all kinds of souvenir shops – like he didn’t live here in Tokyo…

But he’d been funny and charming despite everything. He had opened doors for you and had insisted you linked your arms together. “So I don’t lose you,” he had joked but it had sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach regardless. You had even ended up sharing a milkshake because Satoru had insisted. 

It had felt like a date. It really had. But it couldn’t have been. Satoru would have told you. If there was anything going on between the two of you he would tell you. He wouldn’t keep something as big as you two being in a relationship to himself. Amnesia rules be damned. 

But even if it wasn’t a date, it had only made you understand 26-year-old you’s affection towards him more. How were you meant to not fall in love with Satoru if that was how he treated you all the time?

Didn’t mean you could let him know about that, though. 

The man was still pestering you, digging his finger into your side and making you squeal and squirm away.

“Come on, tell me,” he urged you with a whine, “Who is the better-looking sorcerer? Me, and you know you want to tell me, you have to  follow your heart, or boring businessman Nanami?”

Yeah…that was what Satoru has been annoying you about for the last five minutes on your way to Shoko’s office. Five minutes. And only because you had passed Nanami on your way there and Satoru had noticed your eyes following the man after he had nodded politely at you in greeting and given Satoru a deadpan stare before he walked past you. 

Since then Satoru was relentless in his quest to find out if you thought Nanami was more attractive than him because well…Satoru was a menace. And his ego was apparently very fragile. 

“And I told you, I cannot answer this question honestly because your ego wouldn’t survive the fall, now cut it out, you big baby,” you teased him and pushed his hand away.

Satoru shook his head, not ready to give up yet. If the shit-eating grin on his face was anything to go by. 

“You’re such a chicken, Yn-chan. You’re just too embarrassed to admit how attractive you think I am. You think I’m gorgeous. It’s okay to admit I am the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes, hating that he was right. Nanami was a very attractive man. Unfortunately, you’ve found yourself more drawn to pretty men with gorgeous eyes and annoying personalities and an ego the size of all of Tokyo. Skill issue on your part.

“Sure, that’s it,” you deadpanned and Satoru hummed with delight.

“Admitting this takes strength, I know.” He gave a solemn nod and reached to pat your shoulder but you shoved him and sent him stumbling to the side, laughing.

You had to hide your smile.

You arrived at Shoko’s office only a little bit later. Satoru knocked but barely waited until the woman told them to come in before pushing the door open and sticking his head through the gap, giving a cheerful greeting.

You heard Shoko groan before being dragged into the office by Satoru, his grip around your shoulder as he pulled you in front of him. The woman’s features softened at your sight, the lines in her forehead smoothing out again. You waved at her with a small smile, understanding the annoyance Satoru was able to awaken in people. 

“I’ll leave them in your hands,” Satoru announced, grabbing both your shoulders and pushing you forward like a mother presenting her child.

“They’re not a child, you idiot,” Shoko sighed.

The man’s only reply was a smile, as he patted your shoulders innocently. You glared at him and called him a jerk and Satoru laughed. Before he finally let go of you again he gave your shoulders a squeeze as if to ensure you he’d be back, then he retracted towards the door. 

“Remember! No memory discussion! Alright, bye. I’ll pick you up in an hour.” He waved at both of you before slipping out of the office and closing the door behind him.

“I feel like I was just handed off to daycare,” you sighed and Shoko snickered. 

“He’s very protective of you.” She said it in a voice that sounded neither like she was excusing his behaviour nor like she was scolding him.  “Could be less annoying about it, though.” 

You hummed in agreement, taking a seat on the small sofa in the corner of the room. Shoko watched you quietly from where she was sitting behind her desk, tapping her fingers against the wood.

“I can imagine you’re getting frustrated by being asked this so much, but do you remember anything yet?”

You sighed, having expected that question. It’s been almost a month, after all. You knew that this was probably going on longer than any of them had expected. “No? I mean. Other than a few deja vus, if that counts.”

She nodded, staring thoughtfully at the screen of her computer. 

“Any other symptoms? Headaches? Nausea? Blackouts? Any physical pain? More tired than usual? Numbness?”

You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “No, Doctor, no other symptoms.”

Shoko blinked, looking taken aback. Her eyes darted back towards you, then she burst out into quiet laughter. 

You frowned, confused.

“You’re still calling me out even without your memories,” She mused to herself when she calmed down, “Can’t help it, really.”

You leaned back into the cushions of the couch, feeling warm at the sound of Shoko’s laugh. For some reason, you felt incredibly pleased. 

“So you do this a lot then. Turn on the doctor mode,” you asked her with a teasing tone, wondering if you could get any information out of her without Satoru being around to shush her.

She rolled her eyes. 

“You complain about me mothering you too much when you get sick. But wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a difficult patient.” 

You lightened up, grinning. “Mh, yeah, I like to ignore my illnesses until they go away.”

Shoko gave you an unimpressed look, seemingly displeased by how unashamed you were about it. You just shrugged. The woman decided to let it go, only muttering something to herself you couldn’t hear from the distance but were sure was about you being a brat. 

“Has Satoru been pestering you a lot about the memory thing? I bet he is, that idiot.”

Your smile fell. 

“No, actually, he barely asks about it,” you admitted, your eyes falling to your lap. “I feel like he’s pretending to be less bothered by it than he actually is.”

“Oh?” Shoko asked, but she didn’t sound surprised by your observation at all. 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know.”

“Why Satoru is holding you at arm’s length? Take a guess.”

“I don’t know. I barely know him.”

Shoko shook her head, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“You know him quite well. You just don’t remember. At least consciously.”

You frowned, sitting up. “What do you mean?”

Shoko leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, regarding you with a calm gaze. 

“You said you were having deja vus?”

You nodded, telling her about when you had called Satoru by his first name for the first time and the feeling you’ve had when the man had pulled off his glasses and showed you his eyes. How you’d felt like it hadn’t been the first time. 

That last part brought an amused smile to the women’s lips. “Of course, he’d try to copy that.”

You perked up at her words. “So that did happen before!”

Shoko hummed. “Which just proves my suspicions. Subconsciously you still remember the past six years.” She raised her hand and motioned towards you. “You instinctively know how to engage with your environment and with the people you are close friends with. You recognise familiar situations and you still seem to feel the same way towards us. You just fail to consciously access your memories.”

You frowned, not quite understanding what the woman was saying. Were feelings connected to memories? Could you being in love with Satoru be a sign that your memories weren’t as removed as you had first suspected? 

Shoko, who noticed your confusion, explained further, “Y/n, I remember when you first got here. It took you months until you opened up to us more and started warming up to Satoru. Even though you are now affected by amnesia you didn’t revert back to that state. You still act as you did a month ago before you lost your memories.”

So the loss of memories wasn’t really the issue, you just couldn’t access them.

“So…what do you think I should do?”

She shrugged. “Trust your instincts.”

You sighed. Right. Your instincts. Like you could trust them when they were so ridden with your wistful yearning. What if you told Shoko that your instincts were screaming at you to wrap your arms around Satoru, bury your head in his chest and stay there? That your instincts were screaming at you to grab his face and kiss him. That your instincts were telling you that the two of you should be dating and that it was unfair how you were stuck with those feelings instead of 26-year-old you who actually knew how to deal with them.

Shoko clicked her tongue and let out a snort, making you look up with panic. Had you said any of that out loud?

“What?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe that jerk pulled the eye move but not that stupid hand thing with Infinity on you.”

“Infinity?” you questioned, feeling like the word felt familiar to you. 

“It’s one of his curse techniques.” Shoko looked up to the ceiling, pursing her lips.

Then she started to explain to you, as simply as possible, what Infinity was and how it worked. You listened to her with wide eyes, feeling yourself grow a little dizzy. 

“Infinity?” You echoed.

“Infinity.” Shoko repeated again, raising an eyebrow at your pale face. “I know you don’t remember anymore but there is no need to look so terrified.”

“So no one…can touch him?” 

“Without his permission, yes. The jerk turns it off sometimes when he pleases.” She rolled her eyes.

At your silence she turns to you, a frown twisted her face. “What is wrong?”

“I just…we’re kind of touching all the time.”

Shoko gave you a look and you blushed, cheeks exploding in warmth. That sounded…not like you had wanted it to sound.

“No…not like that, it’s just- casual, I guess. But…”

Shoko grinned. “I see.” Then she burst out into laughter.

You felt yourself blushing even more, lips jutting out in a pout. “What’s so funny?”

“The asshole always turns it off around you. It’s probably subconscious at this point.”

You blinked. “He does?”

Shoko lifted a brow, giving you an amused look. “Surprised?”

“I- of course!”

Why wouldn’t you be? You wouldn’t put it past Satoru to turn on Infinity whenever you hit his arm or shove him just to annoy you.  

Shoko just shrugged, eyes twinkling with mirth as she told you, “Some motivation to remember I guess.”

“Shoko!” You whined.

The woman just chuckled again. “You could try to surprise him. Touch him when he doesn’t suspect it. Just to test the theory.”

Yeah…maybe you’d do that. 

—

You sighed, watching Satoru empty the bowl of rock candy you’d just restocked the other day, grabbing a handful of them before throwing himself back down on the couch. Your eyes followed his fingers as he skillfully unwrapped each candy with one hand before Satoru stuffed them into his mouth. He hummed appreciatively every time. 

You couldn’t believe a 26-year-old you was so desperately in love with him to be indulging this behaviour. 

“I didn’t stock them up just for you to eat all of it within a day.” 

Satoru turned his head a little in your direction but his glasses were hiding his intended side-eye. 

“But you got them for me, didn’t you?” 

He grinned as you stayed silent, knowing he’s seen right through you.

“You’re so sweet, Y/n-chan.” 

You huffed. “Shut up. Who says I got them for you?”

“You’re allergic and as you’ve said before I am the only one who’s shown up to your apartment the past few weeks. Who else would you get them for?”

You leaned back in the chair, eyes resting on the bowl on your desk. “My secret boyfriend obviously.”

Satoru hummed. “I thought you came to the conclusion he didn’t exist.”

You bit your lips, glad he has turned with his back towards you again so he couldn’t see your conflicted expression. Maybe you’d just come to the conclusion that you wished Satoru was the secret boyfriend…

You couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation Shoko and you had had that day. About Satoru’s distance, about your lingering feelings despite the memory ‘loss’ and about Infinity. Especially that last part hadn’t left you any peace. What reason was there for Satoru to shut it off around you? Even when you threatened him with your chopsticks? Or was it just another amnesia rule? Did he want you to remember Infinity by yourself?

You frowned, eyes gazing towards his seat on the couch. He was still happily munching on his candy, his back exposed to you.

What had Shoko said? You should try to test him by touching him when he didn’t expect it? This way he couldn’t just shut it off at the last moment. This way you’d know for sure if he automatically disabled it around you.

Your fingers itched and you balled your hands into fists to stop yourself from tapping them against your thighs. You were sitting close enough that if you leaned forward you would be able to touch him. He was still busy with the candy, making happy noises.

Your eyes zoned in on the uncovered patch of skin on his neck, a pale stripe peeking out between his hair and his collar. 

Satoru made a questioning sound in the back of his throat and you realised he was still expecting an answer. 

“How do I know you’re not just keeping him away from me? Maybe it’s just another one of your amnesia rules.” You tried to joke, keeping your voice steady. 

He snickered, shoulders shaking as his head fell forwards a little, exposing even more skin of his neck.

You stared at it, feeling your heartbeat out of your chest.

“Though I definitely have the power to do that I don’t think-”

You pushed your finger against the skin of Satoru’s neck.

The man stopped, neither flinching nor moving away. He just waited.

Your eyes went wide, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your finger. He hadn’t activated Infinity. He couldn’t even have known that you would touch him. Your mind was reeling.

“Sorry, you-uh-there…there was a hair!” You yelled out, voice rising an octave, as you swiped your finger down his skin to pretend like you were brushing it away.

Then you quickly snatched your hand away.

“I see. Thank you.” Satoru’s tone was unreadable again. And he still didn’t turn around.

Not that it would have helped ease your mind to see his expression, not when the glasses were hiding his true feelings by covering his eyes. 

“Of course.” You laughed awkwardly, now wanting nothing more than to bend forward and press your lips to the spot you had just touched. 

You shock yourself out of that thought. Get a grip.

You cleared your throat. “So you have… the power to keep my secret boyfriend away, huh?”

It was meant to lighten the mood, maybe get rid of the sudden tension you felt between the two of you. But Satoru stayed quiet for a while.

“I’m the strongest.” He said it like it was a fact and for some reason, you didn’t doubt him. 

You smiled. “Maybe he’d get very upset if he found out you ate all his candy and would try to fight you.”

“I’d win,” Satoru insisted, finally turning around to look at you, a smirk lifting the corner of his lips. 

And then with one smooth move, he bent over the back of the couch and snatched the bowl of rock candy from your desk. You gasped, watching in shock as the man dug his hand in the contents and fished out even more candy than he had before.

You jumped up, reaching for the bowl.

“Give it to me.”

“Nope.” Satoru laughed, holding his hand out of your reach.

You bent over the back of the couch, stabilising yourself on his shoulder as you climbed half over the backrest, Satoru’s laughter filling the air with your annoyed yells.

“Satoru stop being a little shit. I just bought these. That’s way too much sugar for you.”

You reached over him, catching his wrist and almost losing balance and falling but were able to catch yourself in the last moment, luckily not smashing your foreheads together in the process. Wait…foreheads?

You froze, hands still holding his wrist as you realized that you were now sitting in Satoru’s lap. 

Like actually sitting in Satoru’s lap. Butt on thighs. Sitting. 

You…what? 

You couldn’t move, you tried to will yourself to do something. Anything. But your body didn’t respond, too overwhelmed that you were sitting on Satoru’s lap. 

The man looked unbothered, eyes twinkling with mischief as your cheeks exploded with heat and you kind of wanted to slap him because what the fuck? 

You let go of his wrists and quickly tried to move back and out of his lap but had to have Satoru save you from losing balance and almost falling backwards in your attempts. Which he did by grabbing your waist with his hands and pulling you back in his lap, letting go of the candy still in his hand. The sound of them clattering to the floor filled the following silence. 

“Careful,” he chided you, voice playful. 

You stared at him, eyes darting between the dark lenses of his sunglasses and across his face as you tried to work out what was happening. 

“See something you like?” he teased, hands still comfortably resting on your waist.

That’s what you noticed suddenly. He hadn’t let go of you. No, he was keeping you in his lap, like he wanted you there. And what he just said…was he flirting? 

Seriously flirting? 

You reached forward, not knowing what possessed you as your fingers traced the frames of Satoru’s glasses before softly plucking them from his face. The man didn’t stop you. He remained still, unblinkingly staring up at you with those blue eyes that mirrored the sky. You folded the glasses absentmindedly and clipped them to his shirt before your hand reached for his face again. The cap of your finger brushed the skin of his cheek, barely able to notice the softness of it when you came back to yourself. What the fuck were you doing.

You reeled back, almost falling out of Satoru’s lap again if it wasn’t for the man’s grip around you.

“Why are you fighting it?” His voice was suddenly serious.

You blinked, overwhelmed by what had just happened, what was still happening.

“Fighting what?” You breathed out, flexing your fingers in his grip.

Without much explanation, he pulled your hand back to its previous position a few inches away from his face before letting go again.

“Trust your instincts and stop fighting them, otherwise your memories will never return.”

You swallowed.

“What if it’s not instincts?”

He cocked his head. You didn’t continue your sentence.

What if it was merely your feelings for him? What if you messed things up for 26-year-old you?

Gojo sighed, shoulders falling and for a second you saw disappointment fleet through his gaze before it was replaced with a feigned expression of amusement.

“You’re such a chicken.”

He straightened up and you realised that he was letting you go, that you could get out of his lap now. Instead, you did something stupid. 

You grabbed his face with both of your hands and waited long enough to see him perk up in surprise, eyes wide as they stared up at you, and then you leaned down to press your lips against his. 

Satoru didn’t even wait until your lips were fully connected before he pushed forward, head tilting until your mouths could slot together perfectly. Something in your chest fluttered as he pulled you closer against him, your chests being pressed together. You gasped into his mouth. He used that opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips and you followed his guidance, letting yourself sink into the sensation. You shuddered against him, overwhelmed with the feeling of him but at the same time, it felt normal…a little bit like you were coming home.

You both pulled back to catch your breath, not moving far away, noses still close enough to almost touch. This was insane. You couldn’t help staring at him, his eyes looked so bright and a little crazy. You just noticed how impossibly blue they were. Bluer than the sky even, like they contained a whole other universe in them.

You swallowed, tongue darting out to wet your tingling lips, the taste of sugar lingering there.  You didn’t pay any attention to it, too distracted by the excitement that bloomed in your chest when Satoru’s eyes darted down to follow the moment. 

A laugh bubbled past your throat at the absurdity of it all. Only yesterday you wouldn’t have thought it possible that Satoru would let you kiss him, much less kiss you back. That you’d been sitting here in his lap, all because of…well…

“You deactivated it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Mh?” 

“When I touched your neck. Infinity.”

His eyes widened, finding yours. “You remember that?”

You gave his cheek an apologetic squeeze, “Shoko told me.”

He visibly deflated. “So you still remember nothing?”

Yeah…there was still that. Your memories. You swallowed, eyes darting down to his lips again and you remembered what Shoko had told you. What Satoru had just told you. You have to trust your instincts.

“I can’t tell if it’s a memory or more of a feeling. But I think we’ve kissed before.”

“Oh yeah?” Satoru teased, visibly brightening up again. 

“Satoru.” 

He hummed, fingers squeezing your waist as he pulled you closer against him. Your thumb brushed his cheek and your noses brushed. 

“Do feelings count as memories?”

Satoru lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re getting philosophical with me.”

You softly pinched his cheek.

“Would you let me kiss you again?”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Would that help with your memories?”

“Would you let me even if it didn’t?” You whispered, already leaning closer. 

“Are you asking these questions to figure me out or because you want to kiss me?” he asked, but his voice sounded hoarse and you could tell that he wanted you to kiss him just as badly as you wanted to kiss him.

“I’m following my instincts,” You muttered and leaned back in to connect your lips again.

Yeah. This was like coming home. 

—

After that afternoon you became bolder. Pulling Satoru down for kisses, reaching to hold his hand, sitting close enough your legs were touching, snuggling up to him when you were watching a movie. 

To your pleasant surprise the man was accepting your touches with ease, Infinity still shut off around you. You didn’t talk about it at first, happy to just enjoy this new but somehow familiar dynamic you had. But there was really just one explanation for this. 

“We’re dating.” 

Your statement didn’t seem to surprise Satoru at the very least.

“Is that a question or a statement?” he mused, not even turning around as he prepared your food at the counter of your kitchen.

You closed the distance between the both of you and slung your arms around him, testing, and just like you’d expected, he let you. Not just that, it almost felt like he was leaning into your touch.

“I’m pretty confident,” you hummed, tightening your grip and pressing your face into his side.

“You’re remembering?” Satoru asked but he didn’t sound convinced.

You scrunched your face. “Did I ask you out?”

Satoru tensed and peaked down at you, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Are you guessing?”

You grinned. “I asked you out but you kissed me first.”

His eyes widened. “Y/n…”

Your grin softened into a smile at his hopeful eyes. 

“It’s not really remembering, I think. It just…feels right. It’s like I just know it.”

He sighed, reaching out to twirl your hair between his fingers. 

“Are you even trying?” He sounded so whiny. It made you giggle again.

“You’re such a jerk. Why didn’t you just tell me we were dating?”

“You need to remember yourself for the curse to wear off,” he justified, but then admitted what you had already suspected, “It was also very funny to watch you squirm and be all flustered around me. You were so embarrassed for wanting to see my eyes.” He giggled to himself. “And to hear about that secret boyfriend of yours you buy those candies for was very entertaining. “

You rolled your eyes. “And you were that secret boyfriend the whole time.”

Discarding the food at the counter the man turned around in your grip so he could sling his arms around you as well. He rested his head on top of yours.

“You never told me you were allergic.”

You shrugged. “You would have made fun of me for being so smitten with you.”

“Because you are! You love me so much!” he sing-sang, rocking you in his arms, making you laugh. 

“Yeah, I do,” you agreed softly.

taglist:

@crystal-lilac @duf3h6237 @hufflefluffslytherin @chucky-26o1 @lordbugs @patchi-chi @chewymoustachio @enesitamor @yourbloodyqueen @lady-cryptstone @iwatobiswimbros @kite11 @kurookinnie @spacedaddydinn @nishayuro @cinaiel @marblesphere @zhah-zu @olaf9086 @oriontingz @bloobrryktty

[shiftingparadise]

Gojo x Reader: Like a goddess

Hi guys, this is just something that popped into my head. Hope you guys like it 🤍✨

Warnings: suggestive content

Word count: 1304

“Tsk”, you smirked as you looked up. “What’s wrong? Scared of losing?”, Gojo hovered over you, his hand resting against the wall. “You know it wouldn’t be a fair fight”. “I’ll hold back, don’t worry”, his voice low.

Butterflies rose to your stomach. There was always this tension between the two of you. He always teased you, touching your arm a little bit too long, his hand touching your ass on ‘accident’… 

“Fine”, you pushed yourself from the wall, slightly bending your head so you could escape him, “I’ll see you on the field after dinner”. “You serious?”, he chuckled. “After dinner”, you looked over your shoulder, a smirk on your face. “Hold on a second”, he stepped towards you, “What’s in it for me? We both know you’re going to lose”. “Just spit it out”, you rolled your eyes. You knew he had something in mind. “I get to take you out on a date”. “A date?”, you laughed, “With you?”. “Or we can skip the date and go straight to my room”, he hummed. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief as the corners of your mouth curled into a smile. “You don’t have to deny your feelings toward me”, his index finger tilting your chin up, “I’ve seen the way you look at me”. “You’re crazy”, you actively avoided his gaze, afraid you’d gotten too wrapped up in his game. “Don’t mistake me for one of your idiotic girlfriends”, you scoffed, “I’m not that easy to impress”. “I know, that’s why I like you”. 

Your eyes unwillingly went round. You knew Gojo. How bold he could be. Yet he never did so with you until now. 

“See?”, a soft chuckle before he pulled away, “Don’t lose on purpose. I’ll take you out anyway”. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to go on a date with you”, you scoffed before turning around and walking off.  

---

“This all you got?”, Gojo’s foot resting on your chest, his hands in his pocket. “That’s disappointing… Or did you lose on purpose?”. “You weren’t holding back”, your hands wrapped around his ankle. “You’d be dead within a second if I didn’t”, he leaned towards you, “We had a deal, remember?”. “Whatever”, you looked to the side, your lips pressed together. “Tomorrow, 8 PM”, he smirked before stepping away, his hand now reaching for you. “Fuck off”, you slapped his hand away. “Where are you taking me anyway?”. Your eyes locked on the ground as you swiped some grass and dirt from your clothes. “Who knows?”, his hand in his pockets again as he walked away, “Wear something nice”. 

--- 

“I’m coming”, you hurried to the door as you heard Gojo knock on your door. “Finally”, he sighed as he looked at the ceiling. “You’re early”, you looked down to put your phone in your purse as you heard a soft gasp followed by a forced cough. “What?”, you looked up with a raised eyebrow. 

He was leaning against the door frame with one arm, his eyes locked on you. There was this slight, almost unnoticeable blush on his face. 

“Nothing”, he stood up straight, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late”. “Where are we going?”, you asked as you closed your door. A moment went by before he answered, causing you to think there was something wrong. “A famous cocktail bar”, he replied far more quietly than normal. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my dress?”, your heart sunk to your stomach as you noticed his unusual expression. “No, it’s just-“, he cleared his throat as he brushed through his hair. “Just what?”. “Fuck”, he let out a low chuckle that send butterflies through your entire body. “Look at me, you’re the first girl that’s ever left me speechless. If you’d let me, I’d have you up against the wall right now, but you’re not that easy, right? You’re not like the others, hm?”, he closed the distance between you two, his hands now resting on your waist. You could only stare into his eyes, your words stuck inside your throat as your hands clutched onto your purse. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering skipping the formalities. The two of you knew what was going to happen tonight, how far you’d let him take things… But it was more fun to play hard to get, wasn’t it? 

“You’re delusional”, you placed your hand against his chest, softly pushing him away. “Hm”, his eyes lingering a little too long on your chest, “We’ll see”. 

---

“That was fun”, you leaned back against the leather seat as the driver started the car. “Where do you want to go?”, his elbow leaning on the window as his hand supported his head. He had this devilish look in his eyes that made it hard for you to focus. “My place or yours?”. “My place”, you shook your head as you smiled, “I told you I’m not that easy. Not even when I’m tipsy-“. You widened your eyes as you felt his hand on your thigh, softly pulling up your dress, “My place then?”. You barely managed to nod as heat flushed to your cheeks. 

You watched as Gojo told the driver the address. He looked handsome. He always did, but tonight was different. Probably because he was wearing a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A completely different style than his usual uniform. His white hair looked a little bit messier than usual, probably because it was a windy outside, but it didn’t matter. Gojo looked even better with his hair like that, even more nonchalant and cocky. 

“So, you want to skip your little act? Or do you want to continue being stubborn? Making it only more fun for me?”. He had you backed against the wall of his hallway, his forehead against yours. “I’m not that easy-“. “I know you aren’t, don’t get the wrong idea”, he gently grabbed your jaw, “You think I even bother to take other girls out for a date?”. You narrowed your eyes, your arms crossed now. “You’re an asshole”. “Not to you”, his eyes gliding over your body, “You know that”. “Hm”, your hands now playing with the buttons of his shirt, “Maybe”. “Maybe?”, his voice more desperate as he felt you fiddling with his shirt. “Well, it all depends on how you treat me tonight”, a pout on your face. “Is that so?”, another low chuckle as his other hand softly pinched your waist, “And how do you want me to treat you?”. “I want you to worship me like a goddess”, you pulled him closer by his collar, “You think you can do that? Or is your ego too big?”. “We’ll see”, his lips brushing against yours before he suddenly picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. “You want to be treated like a goddess, huh?”, he gently seated you on the edge of his bed. “Hm”, you nodded as you looked into his eyes. “Fine”, he softly pushed your dress off your shoulder, “I’ll let you see a side of me no one has ever seen”. He paused as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, “But I have to get something in return”. “What?”, your hand massaging the back of his head. “You won’t see other guys as long as we’re having fun. You won’t talk to another man… Shit, I don’t even want you to look at another guy. You’ll be mine and mine only, okay?”. “Then you’ve got to make sure I won’t have to-“. “Don’t test my patience”, he tilted your chin, “Promise me”. “Fine”, you frowned, “As long as you don’t take other girls home”. “You’re the only one I want”, he smiled before he gently pressed his lips against yours, “The only one I need”.