#yakuza clan head!gojo satoru | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 6 months ago

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Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now.

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be.

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What?

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird.

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer.

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street.

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing.

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.”

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation.

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?”

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?”

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from.

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now.

“Alright. Plan B, then.”

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you?

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner.

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head.

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.”

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly.

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house.

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins.

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app.

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo.

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least.

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in.

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner.

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in.

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual.

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed.

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside.

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you.

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking.

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner.

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit.

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you.

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders.

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now.

Gathered here - for you.

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them.

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second.

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane.

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.”

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily.

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up.

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru.

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold.

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to.

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list.

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain.

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands.

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod.

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight.

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting.

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it.

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.”

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~”

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.”

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong.

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours.

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table.

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before.

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today.

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic.

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.”

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.”

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave.

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips.

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach.

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it.

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were.

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.”

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.”

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip!

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically.

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub.

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you.

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard. “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now.

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.”

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please.

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him.

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-” You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want.

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue.

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear.

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time.

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself.

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now.

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all.

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back.

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.”

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard.

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything.

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot.

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be.

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much.

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy.

“Close?”

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper.

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now.

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him.

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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mullermilkshake · 4 days ago

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Toji goes for a drive.

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, Toji is a taxi driver, references to Fem! reader, graphic depictions of violence, drowning, murder.

Toji needed a front.

A front to prevent you from ever knowing about his current ties to the Yakuza. His tattoo was the only give away that you had to go on though as the good girl you were, you didn't ask too many questions.

He needed a front to keep that simmering pot from over flowing.

So, Toji begrudgingly took on taxi work at his own convenience and in some ways it actually made his life easier in the long run while doing his side work for the Ryomen clan.

Toji was currently sitting in Tokyo traffic, making his way towards the docks before he was due to home. A quick trip and nothing too complicated, a run of the mill job for someone less important to him.

Satoru Gojo asked Toji through Nanami as a favour. He only took this job because he owed Nanami. Otherwise, Gojo could have shoved his head up his ass for all he cared.

The man got on his last nerve more so than the fucking traffic he was sitting in. The reason he ever did anything for Gojo was that the man took in his son.

The only reason.

Bang, bang, bang!

Oh right, that.

The banging and shouting from the trunk was Toji's current job. Some asshole from the outskirts making a pass at Gojo's girl. Crazy bastard. He didn't know all the details from Nanami but it was better that he didn't, all he heard were the words overreacting and making a big deal out of nothing.

Gojo being the other crazy bastard in this scenario.

The traffic moved on and it was a straight run to the docks, it was past nine in the evening so it really was a quick dump and run.

Toji wandered why Gojo couldn't have had his own men take care of this, or even him himself. He was one weird guy and didn't understand how his girl even tolerated him.

Sometimes, like right now, Toji thought that he must have been one of the sane ones in this world. You tolerated Toji at least, so he must have done something right.

When he arrived at the docks, Toji pulled up by the waters edge and climbed out of the car. He trudged over to the trunk and opened it with speed to grab the little prick by the scruff of the collar.

"P-please! I didn't do anything!"

Toji didn't use any energy against the struggling man. "Sorry, that's not my problem. I just wanna get paid," he yanked the man out of the cramped space right over to the edge of the concrete above the churning water.

"Wait... wait! Please- please I can give you anything-"

"Nah, I’m good. Don’t hit your head on the way down."

Toji used this moment of his confusion to work out what was going on to grab his ankles and knock him backwards, like a high school bully holding a poor kid upside down.

The man kicked and thrashed at the choppy water keeping him from surfacing from under the water line. It was a boring really and far too simple for Toji's tastes, watching a man struggle with no fight until his legs stopped trying to kick him off.

"That's done then," Toji let go of his legs and let the water batter him on the side of the concrete.

Toji would call Nanami at a pay phone to confirm the job was done when he had the chance on his way home.

If he took the short way home, he'd be back in time to take you out for dinner.

Dinner sounded good right about now.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #yakuza au #fushiguro toji x reader #fem reader #jjk #jjk fushiguro #reader insert #toji x you #x reader

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siriuslysatorusimping · 1 year ago

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*Teaser* Gokudō (A Gojo/Rinko Yakuza AU)

POSTED ON AO3: Gokudō

Gokudō (極道): the extreme path. A term used to refer to members of a Yakuza syndicate. - “Now, why is a pretty girl like you in an ugly place like this?” “Some might say the contrast is tragically poetic,” she replied easily. “Yeah, well,” he drawled, a smirk pulling at his lips as he stepped up to stand beside her. “Others would say it’s tragically idiotic.” Black ink just beneath his collarbone stood out in stark contrast to his pale skin, the distinct five-petaled lotus telling her what the tousled white hair already had: a Gojo. But not just any Gojo. The Gojo Clan Head.

Gokudō

“Now, why is a pretty girl like you in an ugly place like this?”

Rinko tensed at the voice. Deep and alluring, playful. A calm exterior concealing an ominous undertone. A thinly veiled threat she recognized all too well.

It was Yasen weekend.

Three nights in a row with all the nobodies lining up for a chance at a few million yen and a possible initiation into the low ranks of a clan. Rumors flew around every year that high-ranking members from the big three were somewhere in the crowd looking for new enforcers.

But really, Yasen was just an excuse to watch the little ones fight for entertainment while raising the debts of the gambling-addicted drunks.

That was almost more entertaining than the fights themselves.

It was held in neutral territory, purposefully. The agreement between the big three was that it was true neutral ground. No violence between clans was allowed. Anyone caught breaking that rule was dealt with swiftly.

And really, Yaga could clean up a place real nice. The old abandoned prison had been converted into an arena. The old cells on the first-fourth floors were remodeled, so they were nice, cushy private suites for people to reserve at a very high price. Though, the three best suites had standing reservations for the big three.

It was a nice place.

She had been leaning against the banister of one of the suites overlooking the octagon when she heard them speak. This suite was supposed to be empty. No one had reserved it. She always made sure of it.

“Some might say the contrast is tragically poetic,” she replied easily.

Turning her head, she fought the stutter of her chest as she met the bright blue eyes over the top of pitch-black shades.

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, a smirk pulling at his lips as he stepped up to stand beside her. “Others would say it’s tragically idiotic.”

The tall, lean man almost towered over her as they stood side by side. Black slacks hugged his legs and made them seem endless, paired with a black dress shirt with dark gray stripes.

A few buttons of his shirt were left undone, allowing the black ink just beneath his collarbone to peek out in stark contrast to his pale skin. The distinct five-petaled lotus told her what the tousled white hair atop his head already had: a Gojo.

But not just any Gojo. The Gojo Clan Head.

Now that begged the question of why he was here and not in his suite on the top floor. And why he was without his shadow. His guard was rarely seen further than a few paces away from him. Even though everyone knew that Gojo Satoru had no need for a guard. It was to keep up appearances as the Clan Head. It would be unbecoming for the leader of the strongest clan in the country to refuse his guard.

But the biggest question was why he was here in the first place.

He hadn’t attended a Yasen personally since he became Clan Head when he was twenty. Rumor had it that he found them boring and a waste of his time.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he mused, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it swiftly. Whisps of smoke swirled from his nose as his eyes assessed her carefully. “What’s a sweet girl like you doing here?”

Moving her attention back to the fight below them, she stayed quiet as he stepped even closer.

“Secrets, secrets, don’t make friends,” he hummed, leaning so his face was level with hers. He gave her a small pout, his eyes glittering in the low light. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?” she asked, her pulse jumping at his quiet chuckle.

“You already know who I am.”

#gojo satoru x original female character #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #yakuza gojo #gojo/rinko yakuza au

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isagisbabygorl · 1 year ago

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pov: he’s your bodyguard <3 (suggestive!)

“i don’t need a bodyguard.”

i cross my arms over my chest as my dad sighs. why is my family paying so much money for a bodyguard? especially a bodyguard from the well-known and strong gojo clan.

“are you guys affiliated with the yakuza or something?”

“no it’s not that.” my dad sighs again at my question. “it’s just for your own safety, okay?”

“i can barely go out on my own. i’m 25, may i have to remind you.”

my dad begins to get irritated and dismisses what i said. “this is satoru gojo.”

i look at the man. first impression: he’s hot. he’s tall and handsome. white hair, cerulean blue eyes, has a muscular build. the facial expression he’s wearing looks like a mixture of cool, serious, bored, and tired.

“hi gojo, i’m (name),” i reply. he says nothing in return, but just gives me a small smirk.

“thank you gojo for watching over our daughter,” my father says, finally showing a smile.

“it’s no problem,” gojo replies.

“you can go home,” i tell the white-haired man.

“(name)! for goodness sake, can you stop being such a damn brat?!”

“i never asked for a bodyguard.”

“and i never asked for a daughter.”

my mouth drops in shock. “was i a mistake or something then?”

my dad realizes what he just says and pinches his nose. yeah, i hope you get a ragingly painful headache for that. i glance over at gojo who’s just standing there with that same rather cool smirk.

“maybe use condoms next time?”

all it takes is one step from my dad and gojo is in between us. talk about fast reflexes…

“yeah, i don’t need a bodyguard.”

“i don’t care what you think! he’s staying and that’s final,” my dad snaps.

“whatever.” pissed off at everything, i walk out of the house. of course, gojo is following me behind. i can sense stares from people but i could care less. i mean it’s not everyday you see a 6’4 muscular man following around a small girl like a guard dog.

“you can go home,” i tell him for a second time.

“uh, no. sorry, but that’s not my job. my job is to protect you and keep an eye on you, remember?”

“i’ll be okay. i’m sure you’re tired.” i take note of dark circles growing underneath his bright blue eyes.

“tired or not, i have a responsibility in my hands. and that responsibility is you.”

i stop in my tracks. this causes him to stop, too. i take this moment to turn around and look up at him. “how old are you?”

i can tell the question catches him off guard. “i’m 28. why?”

“just wondering.”

i turn back around and continue walking. an orange glow from the sunset casts itself over the city. it’s beautiful and manages to calm me down a bit.

“where are we going?” gojo asks.

“to a hotel.”

“... why?”

“i wanna get away from everyone.”

eventually, i find a grand hotel and step inside the lobby, getting a room. i only get one room with one bed. i don’t expect gojo to come inside with me and hope that by having to stay outside the door, he’ll get bored and go home. maybe. am i being cruel? i just want to be alone right now and have privacy.

even the elevator ride to the room is quiet. but soon enough, i find my room and unlock the door with the card, stepping inside. “you can go home, gojo,” i say for the third time.

before i can close the door, he stops it. he puts his hand on the door as he looms in front of the doorway. he’s so tall that his head is practically touching the frame.

“did you not hear me the first time?”

“i was listening when you talked about me being your responsibility and all, but-” i tried to close the door but it wasn’t budging. gojo’s palm pressed firmly above my head on the door prevented it from moving even an inch.

“uh huh.”

gosh, this angle is bad. i hate the way he’s looking down at me and the way his arms flex whenever i try to close the door further. i wanna trace the dips of his muscles with my-

“distracted?”

i snap out of my thoughts and see him smirking. that might just end me. actually… am i ovulating?

“no,” i lie. he sees right through it. crap.

gojo takes advantage of my state and lets himself in, closing the door and locking it. i take a few steps back to give him space between my body and his but he’s quick to close it, leaning down to match eye level.

“relax, i’m not gonna hurt you. or kidnap you. or murder you.”

of course, he sounds sketchy saying that but i can tell that his tone is genuine. still, him being this close is making my heart race.

“look, if you don’t leave…”

“... what are you going to do?” he smirks more. it’s tempting to say the least.

“i’m gonna…”

“gonna do what?” his mouth is close to my left ear. it’s low, deep, and husky.

“i’m gonna shave your head bald!”

gojo stands back up straight and laughs. “haha, you’re cute. and funny.”

i blush at the comment. ugh i can’t take this anymore. i put my hands on his chest and attempt to push him back but he doesn’t move. just like the door.

“how much… protein… do you eat?!” i say in between breaths, trying my hardest to push him but he remains firmly planted.

“i don’t keep track.”

then gojo decides to stop being a tree and i end up pushing him back against the hotel room door. it makes a loud sound and i gasp.

“oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! are you-”

“woahhh,” gojo teases me. “just what do you think you’re doing?”

i turn crimson red at his words and immediately take multiple steps back, covering my face with my hands.

“awww don’t be so embarrassed. i’m just playing.” gojo walks past me and slumps in the chair. he just has to manspread, huh. “i’m staying here. if you try to run, i’ll catch you.”

“what if i just sneak out when you sleep?”

“i barely sleep. i’m also a pretty light sleeper and can tell that you’re very tired yourself. long day, right?” ugh he can read me too well. i watch as he takes off his black compression shirt in front of me. is that appropriate?

“um well… you should get some rest though. at least 8 hours. you look tired,” i say.

his gaze at me softens. “it’s okay, i’m used to getting only 4-5 hours.”

i feel bad and for a moment, i’m quiet. “i can sleep on the floor tonight. i’ll make a makeshift bed and-”

“no no, (name), it’s okay, i can sleep on this chair-”

“i’ve slept on the floor before a couple times already and it’s quite comfortable. don’t worry, i’ll be alright.”

gojo was adamant about me not sleeping on the floor. “no seriously, i-”

“hey, they have food service here!” i change the topic, picking up a menu on the table. “hungry?”

gojo shakes his head. “i’m alright.”

“mmm okay. i’m gonna get a bottle of red wine.” i begin to dial the food service number. the person on the other end of the phone picks up and i order the most expensive bottle of red wine on the menu.

after hanging up, i tell gojo i’m gonna shower. i end up showering faster than i expected and come out to see him still on the chair, but with his eyes closed. he looks completely relaxed. i can’t tell if he’s just resting or asleep.

my eyes wander across his bare torso. gosh, how much does he bench press? his chest is broad and huge. his firm shoulders are literal boulders. i also notice how big his biceps are. i can’t imagine how much they must pop out if he flexes them on purpose-

a knock interrupts my thoughts. “food service!” a voice yells from outside.

gojo and i make eye contact for a second as he opens his eyes due to the sudden voice. i immediately break it and head to the door, thanking the worker and getting the wine i ordered.

i find wine glasses in a cabinet and pour myself some. “want any?” i ask gojo.

“i think it’s best if i stay sober,” he smiles.

“low tolerance that’s why?”

“nope. how are you with alcohol?”

“i’m uhh…” all i took was a couple sips and my cheeks already feel warm. “i have a low tolerance to it but it’s fine. i don’t do anything crazy when i’m drunk.”

“is that what your friends told you?”

“i never really drank with friends before.” i finish my first glass and immediately refill it. this was some good vintage wine.

i’m not sure how many glasses i drank. gojo and i made small talk, like him just getting to know me better, but my memory was becoming difficult to organize. like is it just me or has he been looking at me… hungrily? must be my imagination.

“you’re… not gonna sleep?” i ask. i’m sitting on the floor, my left elbow on the bed as i use my left hand to support my head.

“not yet,” gojo replies amusingly.

i yawn and get up. “well i might.” i open the closet to find spare pillows and blankets and set up a little bed on the floor.

“hey, i said you could sleep on the-”

i grab gojo’s hand before he can finish and lead him to the bed. i then gently push him down and crawl on top of him. “you,” i point at his chest. “are sleeping here tonight.”

gojo just looks at me with wide eyes. he’s shocked at my actions but shouldn’t this be expected? i’m literally drunk. or do i just smell good? the wine smelled like berries after all.

“oh? did you have some wine when i wasn’t looking? your cheeks are flushed,” i tease, poking at his cheeks.

he turns a brighter shade of red. “i was talking to you the whole time.”

“mhmmm,” i slur. my hands unconsciously begin to trace his muscles.

i’m so glad he’s not wearing a shirt right now. he’s so fucking hot.

“you think i’m hot?”

i pause. did i say that out loud?

“yeah, you said that out loud,” gojo chuckles.

“shit… my bad.” uh oh, now i can’t seem to differentiate my thoughts from reality. “let’s make it even. you tell me something on your mind now.”

i can sense how gojo pauses. his jaw clenches. his fists curl up. it’s like he’s holding back something and debating between spilling his guts or keeping quiet. i wanna ask him what’s so badly on his mind but he opens his mouth before i can.

“do you… want to know every single thing that i want to do tonight?”

i nod.

“are you sure?” he asks me this like there’s no turning back if he does.

“tell me.”

“alright, here’s the whole list.” gojo swallows and i catch the way his throat moves. “i want to get a good feel of you. since i’m definitely not going to let you get away with hiding yourself from me. then i want to make you feel... good. real good. i’d like that, if you do.”

for a moment, i can’t speak. i can’t move. i can’t blink. i can’t do anything but avert my eyes so i’m not looking at him. he must’ve drunk the wine. he must’ve drunk the wine. he must’ve drunk the wine. “how do you want to get a good feel of me?” i blurt out.

“how do i want to get a good feel of you?” gojo rubs his hand up my arm. “i want to touch every single part of you.”

those words alone make me want to take this stupid oversized t-shirt off. his touch is driving me insane. his hands are rough from callouses and i can tell they’re from weight lifting. oh to be the bar he bench presses-

“is that a no?”

i kiss him before he can say any more. like hell i would say no to him.

his lips are soft and seem to fit perfectly on mine. he kisses back, but that’s when i realize i didn’t ask him for his consent so i pull away.

“i’m sorry i didn’t ask for consent…”

gojo just stares at me like he was hurt i pulled away. but then his expression eases into a smile. “you can do anything to me, baby girl. do i have yours?”

i nod. such a simple movement seemed to flick a switch in his head because next thing i know, he’s tugging on my shirt and telling me to take it off. he’s begging me.

“please, i want to see the pretty sight you’re hiding underneath.” his breath is hot against my skin. "please." i nod again, looking at the way his hands are clenching on my shirt so hard that his veins are extra noticeable. my shirt is off before i know it and he’s tracing the outline of my black lace bra. i know what’s coming off next.

gojo is sat up a little now. taking advantage of this position, he gently pushes me down, laying me on my back and now he’s the one hovering over me. his frame is huge but his abs are what catch my eye. gosh maybe he should share his workout routine with me.

our lips are back on each other’s. his lips taste a certain way that i can’t describe but it’s addicting. unexpectedly, he slides his tongue in which earns a little noise from me. that in turn makes gojo hum lowly, a guttural noise from the back of his throat.

eventually, he pulls away and breaks the kiss, leaving us panting. but he wastes no time. gojo goes straight for my neck, kissing it softly and it tickles a little, until he kisses harder. the force, especially on that sweet spot of my neck, makes me grip onto his shoulders.

“how am i supposed to stop after that?” his voice is rough, hoarse, and desperate.

“don’t,” i breathe out, breathless even though i’m not doing the physical work. “i want you.”

gojo unexpectedly pulls away, leaving my neck to feel cold and empty. he looks down at me with a smirk. “now that i’ve got you where i want you, i guess i’ll just have to make the best of it. how about i make you beg for it, hm? you say that you want me right?”

i was so needy and desperate that i threw away my self-respect a long time ago. “satoru, please. please touch me.”

gojo pauses at the use of his first name. “say my name again.”

“satoru.”

“again.”

“satoru…”

“again,” he says, each time inching closer toward my neck and collarbone area. he plays with the left strap of my bra and lets it fall to the side.

“satoru.”

“again.”

i decide to say something different. “how about you make me say your name until i lose my voice?”

“watch me,” he replies without hesitation, quick to kissing my neck again. he then softly bites down on my collarbone and begins to suck on the skin. i squeeze my eyes shut. he’s gonna leave a mark but i don’t seem to mind.

“you’re mine. all mine.”

that night was a blur. unfortunately, i don’t remember the rest because i was too drunk. but there was a lot of kissing… touching… neediness…

i wake up past 11 AM which is super late for me. this morning is different though. gojo is sleeping next to me, in nothing but boxers. he looks so peaceful. i’m sure that this is the most sleep he’s probably ever gotten in a while.

i look down at myself. i’m back in my oversized t-shirt i swore he took off of me last night. even the bed i made on the floor is untouched. yawning, i groggily walk towards the bathroom. maybe that was a dream. or… not.

i notice the mark on my collarbone. it causes me to clasp my hand over my mouth. did i… did i do that with my bodyguard? i CANNOT have my parents, my father especially, find out about this.

the rest of the day was spent avoiding the topic of last night. i went shopping, gojo carried all my bags for me, we went on the city’s huge Ferris wheel, and ate dinner at a nice restaurant.

when we got back to the hotel room, we were both exhausted. i couldn’t help but glance at the bottle of red wine on the table. there was still some left inside. that’s when gojo breaks the tension.

“‘i don’t do anything crazy when i’m drunk,’” gojo quotes my words from yesterday. “do you remember what happened last night?”

my hands unconsciously touch that spot on my collarbone. “do you?”

“i remember it in great detail.”

my body shivers a little as i remember the way he touched me. his rough hands were soft, despite his callouses. he touched me gently like i was a fragile, delicate object. like i could shatter any second and i required precise care.

he kissed me like my lips were an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough of. his body connected with mine like our bodies were meant for each other. he touched me in places i forgot about. he told me the most sweetest and most inappropriate things in existence. my ears heard it all, my eyes saw it all, my skin felt it all. he was greedy for me.

“i want to remember.”

gojo put the shopping bags down and held my hand. he led me to the bed as he sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling me to sit on his lap so i was straddling him. he cups half of my face with one of his large hands and looks at me so… lovingly.

“want to do it again sober this time?”

like hell i would say no to him.

“yes.”

a/n: character ai inspired 😞 gojo brainrot is real.

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #satoru gojo

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orivaa-kun · 1 year ago

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BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 7: Life's a Beach

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

chapter word count: 7k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba-

fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

“God, I’m starving.” Gojo complains, throwing his head back a bit dramatically. Now at the beach, Gojo and Riku walk the long stretch of boardwalk by the ocean that’s lined with small shacks, beachwear shops, food stands, arcades, and even an outdoor theme park.

Other than the coffee shop they’d just left half an hour ago, Riku thinks the boardwalk is the most normal place she’s been to with Gojo. The walkway is crowded with locals and tourists navigating through all its attractions and the white haired man holds her close by her hand that’s clasped in his. Gojo hadn’t let her hand go since he’d asked to hold it when they were in the car, and Riku feels her cheeks tinge red at the mere thought, “Even after those donuts? The ones you didn’t even let me try?” She adds, undeniably a bit disappointed as the man had raved about them back at the shop.

Gojo sighs, “Sorry, babe,” he leans close to her ear, “I promise I’ll give you something sweeter.”

The lowly whispered words cause Riku to jolt upright a little more, and her cheeks redden even further. She feels a few eyes on the two of them as they pass through the crowded boardwalk, “Are you even capable of being sweet to me, you know…” she trails off, a bit embarrassed; she says the last part just above a whisper, “in bed? You don’t seem like the type at all.”

Gojo speaks just as low, eyes focused on navigating the boardwalk as he speaks but a smirk on his face, “Princess, if I fucked you nice and sweet like that, you’d lose your fucking mind. Trust me, Suguru ain’t got shit on me.”

Riku hums to herself in response to Gojo’s words, amused.

Gojo turns to look over at Riku, smirk growing into a grin, “What? You in the mood to get the sense fucked outta you or something?”

“No!” Riku protests, raising her voice from a whisper.

Gojo laughs, unbelieving, “If you say so…” he squeezes her hand, “come on, babe. We’re here.”

Riku looks up at the small shack of a restaurant that looks terribly run down, the sign ‘IWAI’S’ crookedly plastered above the door on a big wooden slab, “This is the place…?” She quirks a brow as Gojo pulls her closer.

“Mhm.” He raises Riku’s hand with his own to his lips, offering the back of it a quick peck before letting it go and opening the door for her, that chirps loudly with the numerous wind chimes attached to its front.

Riku steps in and is surprised by the dark, quaint, yet clean and izakaya-style ambiance of the small restaurant as it’s completely different from its exterior. The place seems to be completely empty, but a man suddenly appears from what looks to be the kitchen in a rugged black apron and a white bandana tied around the top of his head. He has a small goatee and is around the same height and build as Gojo – around 190cm or 6’3” – only seemingly a few years older and a bit leaner and thinner.

“Satoru! Hey, man!” He strides around the bar to greet his friend, but pauses when he sees Riku, eyes widening, “Shit, who the hell do we have here?” He smirks as he shamelessly looks Riku up and down in her beachwear.

Gojo possessively slips his thick arm around Riku, removes his sunglasses, and gestures between the two others with his free hand, “Iwai, Riku. Riku, meet Iwai.” He puts his spectacles in his pocket.

“Hi, Iwai.” Riku extends her hand, a faint smile on her lips.

Iwai lightly grasps and shakes it slowly, admiring Riku with alluring, half-lidded eyes, “Hi, Riku. You’re absolutely gorgeous… like a fucking painting.”

Riku’s smile brightens, “Thank you.”

He shakes his head to himself in disbelief, “Might just be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Alright, that’s enough, Iwai.” Gojo says, tone nonchalant but irritation more than evident in his eyes. His arm unconsciously tightens around Riku.

“What? She yours or something?” Iwai questions.

“Y—”

“Nope! I don’t belong to anybody.” Riku confidently interrupts before Gojo can finish.

Gojo clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth once to Riku’s words, irritation spreading to his brows, “A real fucking brat, this one…” He drops his arm from around her to cross both of them over his chest, “She’s Jin Ozaki’s niece.

Iwai guffaws to Gojo and Riku’s interaction, “She’s yakuza, and she has the guts to stand up to you?!” His eyes shift back down to Riku with adoration, “I think I’m in love.”

Gojo sighs, “Iwai, just let us taste the damn club’s new pairing menu. I got shit to do.”

“Alright, alright,” Iwai raises his arms in protest, “right this way,” he turns, gesturing towards and beginning to walk over to one of the small tables in the corner of the room. Gojo and Riku ease down onto the small stools, Riku removes her crossbody bag, and Iwai looks to Riku again but this time a lot more collected, “If you’re Ozaki, I’m assuming you have a more refined palate and appreciation for culinary artistry? Unlike this sugar-addicted asshole?”

“You’d be correct.” Riku giggles lightly.

“Fuck you, Iwai. Sweet stuff just tastes better and everybody knows it.”

“Sure, boss.” Iwai dismisses Gojo’s words with disbelief, “I’ll get you two some water and bring out the first course in a bit.” Iwai begins to walk back towards the bar.

Gojo huffs a frustrated laugh out, shaking his head at Riku, “What’s that now, strike two?”

“Strike two?” Riku asks curiously.

“First you’re smart with me back at the café, now this?” Gojo nudges Riku’s leg beneath the table with his knee, “You must like getting punished or something.” He murmurs the words deliciously low, eyes dark and a sick smirk on his lips.

“Whatever, Satoru. You’re not gonna do shit anyways.” Riku brushes Gojo’s words off, instead moving her gaze to look around at the small izakaya’s decor.

Gojo’s eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly agape with a short laugh, genuinely surprised by Riku’s backtalk, “Oh? You wanna test that theory? Try me, babe.”

“You wouldn’t do that in public, not in the middle of a restaurant like this. Even if it is empty.” Riku says in disbelief, still avoiding Gojo’s eyes.

“Ri, I’ll bend you over this table right now.”

“No you wo—” Riku starts when Gojo suddenly grabs her arm and yanks it forward, causing her chest to fall and completely press against the flat of the wooden table. Gojo even begins to stand, but Riku protests, her entire face burning bright red, “W-wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Satoru!”

“Yeah you are.” Gojo, face completely calm and satisfied with Riku’s reaction, releases her arm and sits back down, “That’s better.”

Riku quickly raises her chest up off the table and readjusts her coverup dress.

Iwai looks curiously between Riku and Gojo when he returns with their waters, especially to Riku who looks down at the table and toys with one of the curls at the back of her head, cheeks flushed and an embarrassed expression on her face, “Uh, here’s the water… First appetizer is in the works. You drinking today, Gojo?”

“Nah. This one’s the real sake connoisseur.” Gojo gestures to Riku.

“Really? Good; now I can get a real opinion on these bottles.” Iwai chuckles, already walking back towards the kitchen.

After seven courses of intricately crafted small plates and their seven uniquely paired servings of rare sake, though not drunk, Riku is far past buzzed and quite tipsy. She giggles to herself at nothing in particular, her cheeks and neck tinged pink with warmth.

“What’s so funny?” Gojo quirks a brow at Riku from across the table. As he hadn’t had anything to drink, he eyes Riku suspiciously.

“Nothing! Just feel nice.” Riku smiles warmly, closing her eyes for a bit to enjoy the weightless feeling in her body.

“Is that so?” Gojo studies Riku’s body with his eyes, slowly taking in each bit of her that’s visible him – the flushed cheeks, neck, chest… he huffs a chuckle at the woman who’s clearly enjoying herself, “Well, glad one of us is having fun.”

“Come on; hasn’t trying the food been fun, too?” Riku opens her eyes and challenges playfully.

“Yeah, but clearly not as much fun as you’re having.” He crosses his thick arms across his chest.

Riku blinks up at Gojo, simply getting lost in his cerulean eyes for a moment. He’s so handsome. She thinks to herself. Riku can’t help but appreciate the perfectly chiseled face, broad shoulders, and toned chest that’s even visible with his button up, short-sleeve beach shirt on. Riku shifts her leg under the table so that it gently nudges and hooks around one of Gojo’s. She slowly moves it up and down, rubbing his leg with her own, “You wanna feel good, too?” She boldly asks, batting her eyes at the white haired man flirtatiously.

Gojo’s brows lift with surprise at Riku’s boldness and opens his mouth to speak, but just then, Iwai returns to their table with a tray that holds two small dishes and a single serving of sake.

“Alright,” Iwai sets the dishes down on the table, “last one. We got anmitsu—an assortment of mochi, red bean, and chestnut flavored jelly cubes topped with matcha ice cream. And for you, Riku,” he sets down the small sake glass, “we have a sweet plum wine to go with. It’s a 3-year aged Asahi Shuzo Dassai umeshu.”

“This looks so good! Everything’s been so delicious, Iwai.”

“Thanks, beautiful,” Iwai smirks brightly, “glad you liked the pairings.”

Riku dramatically drops her chin into her hands, propped up by her elbows on the table, “I wish I could eat delicious food like this every day…” She sighs, pouting ever so slightly.

“Riku, gorgeous as you are—if you were mine, I’d get up at the ass-crack of dawn to make you whatever you want.” His smirk grows, gaze heavy with infatuation as he looks down at Riku.

Riku giggles, “Aw, that’s so sweet.”

Already digging into his dessert, Gojo loudly clears his throat, clearly irritated by Riku and Iwai’s exchange.

“Let me know if you need anything else; more water, some coffee, whatever. I make a damn good matcha caramel macchiato, you know.”

“Ooo… that sounds good!” Riku says excitedly.

“We’re good,” Gojo checks his watch, “we gotta get going to the gym soon, anyways.”

“Aw…” Riku complains, a small frown on her face.

“I can make it to-go.” Iwai suggests.

“Yay! Thanks, Iwai.” Riku’s excitement returns as quickly as it had left. She picks up the small spoon on her plate and scoops up some of the mochi and ice cream before taking a bite. She immediately hums to the perfect balance of light, sweet flavors, “Mm… this is absolutely perfect. So delicious!”

“Try it with a sip of the umeshu.” Iwai notes, already heading back towards the kitchen.

Riku takes a sip from the small sake glass, eyes lighting up as the sweet flavored notes of the liquid hits her tongue, “Oh, this is good… You might like this, actually.” Riku suggests, glancing over to Gojo.

“Let me try.”

Riku passes the small glass to Gojo, who takes a slow sip. He pauses after tasting the umeshu, and then his eyes widen similarly to Riku’s, “Wow, that is pretty good—for alcohol.”

Riku shakes her head to Gojo’s response, “It’s amazing.” She clarifies, “Just because there aren't 10 spoonfuls of sugar in it, doesn’t mean it isn’t good.” She continues to take tiny bites of her dessert.

Already nearly finished with his own dessert, Gojo watches Riku as she eats, shaking his head to himself, “Also, that’s strike three, babe.”

Riku gasps, jaw dropping in surprise as she placed her spoon back down on her plate, “But I didn’t even do anything!”

“Flirting with Iwai, right in front of me?” Gojo quirks a brow at Riku.

“Oh my god, I wasn’t even flirting.” Riku rolls her eyes, dramatically sighing the words.

“Ri, you look at any average guy with that puppy dog eyes and pout combination and he’s falling for you. Without a doubt.”

“Okay, but that’s not my fault, though.” Riku takes the sake glass back from Gojo, downing the rest of the liquid in the glass like a shot.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” Gojo says flatly, “You’re not as slick as you think you are, Ri.” His smirk grows into a grin when he’s suddenly struck with an idea. He stands to his feet, quickly grabbing Riku by her arm and pulling her up out of her seat and towards a narrow hall on the other side of the restaurant.

“Hey…! What are you doing?!” Riku protests head swimming a bit to the combination of the alcohol in her system and the sudden movement.

“Teaching you a lesson.” Gojo says sinfully low as they approach the door to the private bathroom in the back of the izakaya. He opens it and pushes Riku in so that she collies with the sink, then closes and locks the door behind them.

“Ow!” Riku complains, rubbing her hip that had hit the corner of the sink. Though it’s quaint and clean, the bathroom – made mostly of black stone and accented with polished wood – is just as narrow as the hallway and both Gojo and Riku hardly fit in it, “That hurt, asshole! Agh—”

Riku exclaims a short gasp when Gojo suddenly closes the space between them and simultaneously hoists her up on the edge of the sink while pushing up the netted fabric of her coverup dress. Gojo wastes no time in joining their lips, pulling Riku’s knees apart so he’s pressed flush against her body. He kisses her harsh and quickly forces his tongue in between her lips to dance with hers.

Riku moans into Gojo’s mouth when he rubs his hands up the sides of her hips and around her waist, thumbs massaging into the barely clothed skin there. Gojo moves his lips to Riku’s neck and his large, kneading hands to her breasts and she whimpers, heat already beginning to pool between her legs from Gojo’s touch. Riku’s skin already feels warm from all the sake she’d drank, and her pulse only beats hotter and more thickly in her neck when Gojo licks and sucks red marks into it. Gojo’s hands are rough with her, and Riku appreciates how the man doesn’t hold back. She giggles a bit, “This is punishment?”

Gojo releases his hold on one of Riku’s breasts to reach up and yank her head back with a quick, sharp tug of her hair—backing her up just enough so she can see his cold, hard gaze. It’s a look so emotionless that it honestly sends a shiver down Riku’s spine. It’s broken when Gojo suddenly chuckles, however, lips curving up into a grin at the sight of Riku beneath him, sitting on the edge of the sink with a flustered expression on her face, “Hm. So now you want to be touched? That’s funny…” He leans closer to Riku to suck her earlobe between his lips, gently tugging on it before lewdly licking inside the rim of her ear.

Riku twitches and moans to the feel of Gojo’s breath and tongue on her ear, legs shaking for a second as she feels herself grow wetter beneath her bikini.

Gojo abruptly releases her completely and steps back as much as he can in the small bathroom, which causes Riku to blink dazedly at him at the sudden lack of touch. He pushes his hands into his pockets, face and voice both completely calm and collected as he speaks his next words, “You’ve been pushing and pulling me all day, babe. So, tell me, what do you really want, Ricchan?”

“I…” Riku trails off, thinking to herself before replying with the only current thought in her head, “want you.”

Gojo folds his arms over his chest and shakes his head once, unimpressed, “Too vague. Try again.”

Riku's cheeks redden even more under his focused gaze, “I want you to fuck me…” She says low, just above a whisper and voice shaking with embarrassment.

“What was that?” Gojo turns his head to poke his ear in Riku’s direction, only pretending he can’t hear her, “I couldn’t catch it. Speak up.”

Riku grumbles impatiently and out of embarrassment, a fire behind her eyes, “I said I want your dick inside of me, okay?!” Her face is completely red now, and Gojo laughs at the sight.

“You look like a tomato!” He guffaws childishly, jabbing his index finger towards her.

“Shut up…!”

Gojo reaches in his back pocket, retrieving a condom from it, “But I guess it’s better. I’ll give you what you want, Ricchan, but I won’t be nice and hold back—even if you ask me to…” He unbuttons his shorts and tugs them and his boxers down just below his hips, causing his dick to spring up and to attention. He tears the foil package open.

Riku’s eyes widen at Gojo’s size, still in disbelief of how that had been inside of her last night.

“…can you take it?” Gojo asks, rolling the condom onto his dick.

Riku bites her lip to the sight of Gojo’s movements, nodding with a lewd gaze. She feels her breaths begin to deepen in heated anticipation and spreads her legs a little more, using one of her hands to pull her bikini to one side and tease herself with her fingers.

Gojo’s eyes dart down to between Riku’s legs, and he watches as she plays with herself, on display just for him. He glances back up to her eyes, and closes the gap between them, hand reaching up to harshly grab and squeeze the sides of her neck with his thumb and index. Gojo is at Riku’s ear again, muttering his wanton words into it between wet kisses and sucks to her earlobe, “You slut. You only want affection when it’s like this… don’t you?”

“Yes…” Riku strains out in a whine, practically aching between her legs for him to fill her up with his cock, “I need it so bad, Satoru.” She feels just the right amount of lightheaded with Gojo’s hand locked around her neck and is so turned on she doesn’t really care about how ridiculous she sounds at the moment.

Gojo presses his forehead against Riku’s with a wild grin, “Shit, babe, you might just be as fucking sick and twisted as me…” He teases the tip of his dick at her entrance and rubs it over her wet folds, “But you just had this last night, no? You already want me again, Ricchan?” He coos the question salaciously.

“Please!” She whimpers, rolling her hips forward and closer to Gojo’s so that his dick prods harder against her pussy.

“You asked for it.” And with the end of his words, Gojo savagely thrusts all the way into Riku’s cunt with a single, hard jut of his hips, his free hand grasping and holding hers down in place on the edge of the sink so she can’t get away from him… so she has to take every inch of his cock.

“S-Sator—” Riku nearly screams from the pain of Gojo entering her so harshly but is cut off when the hand on her throat swiftly moves to clasp over her mouth.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you horny slut.” Gojo spits coldly, his expression mildly irritated to all the noise Riku was making, but simultaneously more than visibly turned on from her moans. He doesn’t waste any time and thrusts into her over and over, hard and fast. The sink even bumps loudly against the wall at the force of his aggressive movements. Gojo looks Riku directly in her eyes as he muffles her moans with his hand pressed tightly over her mouth, fucking her hard and unceasingly, “You were just flirting with Iwai minutes ago; you really want him to hear you getting fucked in the back of his restaurant?”

Riku’s long nails dig into the skin of Gojo’s lower hips and she shudders to the intense sensations he gives her with each dastard pump of his dick, eyes rolling back into her head for a moment as a strong jolt of pleasure abruptly courses through her body without warning. All of a sudden, she’s squeezing and pulsing tight around Gojo’s cock, and a long, muffled moan is falling from her lips.

Gojo pauses in his thrusting at the feel of Riku tightly gripping his dick in rhythmic waves, “Did you just cum?” A smirk slowly takes over his previously icy expression.

Riku doesn’t realize it until after it’s already over and she’s coming down from her high. She’s never been fucked hard like this before and didn’t think it was possible for her to climax so quick. Gojo releases Riku’s lips and she simply blinks and pants heavily, half-dazed and half-tired from orgasming so intensely.

“Shit, Ri, you like pain that much?” Gojo laughs at her, “I mean, fuck, what was that? One minute?”

“Don’t laugh at me…!” Riku’s not sure if it’s the sheer embarrassment, the pain from Gojo’s thrusting, her vulnerability from just having orgasmed, or a mixture of all three, but tears well up at the corners of her eyes.

“I told you, that crying shit won’t work on me. And I’m not finished with you.” Gojo says before slamming back into Riku with a rough buck of his hips.

Riku bites her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out.

“Why don’t you do some work for once?” Gojo grabs under Riku’s knees to pull her legs up and around his waist, “Put your arms around my neck. You can hold your weight can’t you?”

When Riku follows Gojo’s directions he stands upright and her body is lifted above the sink. She clings to Gojo to hold herself up, now more readily breathing in the citrus, musk, and vanilla notes of his scent at their proximity.

“The fuck are you waiting for?” Gojo harshly slaps the flat of his hand under the curve of Riku’s ass and she clenches on his dick in response, a quick moan spilling from her lips, “Move.” He commands.

Arms locked around Gojo’s neck for purchase, Riku moves her ass up and down at a steady rhythm. Though the position doesn’t allow for much movement, she continues like this for a few minutes and tries to please Gojo in her messy, dazed state, whispered moans and whimpers fleeing her mouth each time Gojo’s dick hits her spot just right.

“You can do better than that, Ri…” Gojo severely slaps both of his hands on Riku’s ass cheeks over and over, sure to leave marks on the now reddened skin there as she continues to throw her hips back and forth on his dick. Face now buried in his shoulder, Riku softly cries out into Gojo’s shirt as he batters her ass with hits, head beginning to melt at her own arousal from this situation.

Gojo’s touch throughout the day – his hands rubbing on her back, around her waist, even his fingers flirting with her breasts – had slowly affected Riku, little by little, and now she was so desperate for for the man that she was fucking him in the back of a restaurant. It was honestly embarrassing to think about the complete mess he’d made out of her body. On top of this, Riku had never been pushed so harshly during sex before, and neither had the line between her pain and pleasure. Gojo had been cruel in his treatment and fucking of Riku, and as she was the type of girl who was used to men treating her like a princess all the time, his brutish punishment of her like this only drove her crazier.

Riku moves her arms down so that her hands are on Gojo’s shoulders. She uses them like a pull up bar, pulling her weight up and down so that she moves more significantly on and off of his dick with each jerk of her hips. She throws her head back up to get a look at Gojo, her own cheeks reddened and eyes hazy with pleasure. Though she could hold her weight, even her arms were quickly growing sore and tired from holding moving herself up and down on Gojo in this way.

“That’s better. See, Ricchan? You can fuck yourself on my dick just fine.”

“Fuck…” Riku whispers the word, enjoying the feel of Gojo’s dick pushing into her over and over again at the command of her hips and her own set pace. It doesn’t take long for her to slow down from the tiredness and soreness in her arms, though, and she eventually comes to a still.

“Hm, well that was short-lived.” Gojo notes, almost too plainly.

“I’m sorry…! Please, Satoru… please fuck me!” Riku begs, arms shaking. Gojo can see that Riku is honest in her words from her timid body language—that’s much different from her usual dismissive yet playful and hot-headed attitude. It only takes a moment of looking into her eyes for him to tell that he’s pushed her a lot physically, and that she’s barely holding on (pun intended).

Gojo finally wraps his arms around Riku’s back with a sigh, breaking his mean streak and easily taking her weight into his hands, “You did well, babe. Way better than most could.” He praises, kissing her temple with a small peck before walking them over to and pinning her against the wooden door of the bathroom, “Let me take it from here.”

Gojo suddenly thrusts into Riku hard and fast, nailing her into the wood with one hand on her hip and the other on her mouth again. The door bangs loudly in its frame at Gojo’s brutish movements but he doesn’t let up, looking Riku in the eyes as she comes undone with pleasure. Her muffled moans gradually grow louder into choked groans, her breathing becoming more and more irregular with each strong buck of his hips. Riku grips Gojo’s broad shoulders tightly, legs gently shaking around his waist at the heavy pleasure that focuses in her abdomen and pushes its way up her spine. She looks at Gojo with wide eyes, and he immediately understands, “I know, babe; I’m close, too…” He softly grunts the words and rests his head in the slope of Riku’s neck.

Riku’s body jerks and twitches with the intensity of her climax and she lets loose a muffled cry into Gojo’s palm. His breath grows ragged when Riku clenches on him and his hips slam into hers one last time as he cums, “Ah, fuck, Riku…” Gojo curses, keeping her pinned against the door with one arm while the other moves from her mouth to cup her cheek. Gojo presses his lips to Riku’s passionately yet tiredly, offering her a few lewd, open-mouthed kisses before finally breaking away and pulling out of her.

Gojo slowly releases and eases Riku back down onto her feet, “You good?” He brushes a few stray curls from her face and rubs his thumbs over her flushed cheeks, “Was I too mean to you?” He smirks.

Riku winces a bit to the soreness between her legs, on her ass, and in her arms when she stands on her own, using Gojo’s arm to stable herself when she stumbles a bit. He instinctively catches her wrist in his hand when she does but she quickly regains her balance, “Yeah, you were, but I can take it… and I had fun.” Riku smiles soft yet honestly at Gojo, starting to readjust her bikini and smooth out her coverup dress.

“You did?” Gojo leans over and close to Riku’s face, pressing a light peck to her lips.

“Mhm.”

He pecks her lips again, “You gonna be a good girl f’me the rest of the day?”

Riku nods, smiling sweet and submissively up at Gojo, “Yes.”

“Good.” Gojo pecks her lips one last time before straightening back up and beginning to remove and discard his condom, “Another day of fucking the brat outta you, hm?” Gojo chuckles, “You need to use the bathroom, babe?” He pulls and buttons his shorts back up, then quickly washes his hands.

“Yeah, I should.” Riku pushes a curl behind her ear shyly, trading places with Gojo in the bathroom so she’s no longer at the door.

“Take your time. I’ll wait for you outside with your coffee, alright?” Gojo winks at her, unlocking the door and opening it slowly.

Riku nods quietly and Gojo makes his exit, closing the door behind him.

Of course, just then, Iwai turns the corner in the hallway and his eyes widen when he sees Gojo closing the door. His look of surprise suddenly turns into a knowing smirk and he laughs, “Seriously? And here I was thinking the dishwasher was acting up again…” He shakes his head and crosses his arms, “Riku still in there?”

“Yeah, she’s freshening up.” Gojo grins.

Iwai chuckles, “Jesus Christ. Well, I got her macchiato out front.” Iwai waves Gojo along already heading back towards the restaurant’s main space.

Gojo follows along until they reach the bar that has a small coffee cup with a lid and sleeve on it. He sits down on one of the stools with a small sigh.

Iwai moves behind the counter, wiping the surface of it down with a wet rag, “Now, where’d you find a girl like her?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Gojo looks up into space for a second, thinking before he meets Iwai’s eyes again, “She’d tell you that we met at the gala a few nights ago, but really, I met her years ago when we were kids. Don’t think she remembers that, though.”

“Interesting… So she got a sister or anything?” Iwai quirks a brow.

Gojo cackles, “A cousin, but that’s it. And if she’s anything like Riku, I wouldn’t touch her.” Gojo advises, folding his hands on the bar top with a small smirk on his lips.

“Why’s that? Tryna hog all the hotties for yourself?” Iwai retrieves a clean class from behind the bar and fills it with water using the soda tap.

“It’s not that. She’s just a little bit… troublesome. Maybe a lot bit.” Gojo admits, cocking his head to one side.

“You say that when you’re going out with her right now.” Iwai lifts his pointer from his cup, raising the glass as he speaks before taking a long sip from it.

“Yeah, but I can handle it. Can you?” Gojo asks, challengingly.

“What kind of trouble are we talkin’?” Iwai asks before taking another sip of water.

“Kicking Toji in the balls kind of trouble.”

Iwai spits his water out but off towards the floor of the bar, then coughs and clears his throat, eyes wide with surprise, “Shit…”

Gojo lets loose a loud laugh to Iwai’s reaction.

“Yeah, I don’t want Toji problems, even as pretty as she is. Really the only person who can handle Toji problems is… well, you. Maybe Suguru, too.”

“And there it is.” Gojo concludes, and both of their heads turn when they hear Riku approaching.

She secures her small crossbody bag over her shoulder as she walks towards them and stops at the edge of the bar to pick up the small coffee cup, clearly ignorant to their prior conversation, “This for me?”

“Sure is.” Iwai confirms with a nod.

Riku takes a sip, “Oh my god… What the hell?!” She takes another one, “This is insanely good!” Her expression looks frustrated, but she continues to take small sips of the matcha caramel macchiato.

Iwai laughs, “That's some review. Thanks, Riku. You mind if I send Gojo a survey for you to fill out about the pairings?”

Riku shakes her head, “Not at all. I’d be happy to fill it out.” She smiles, moving towards Gojo’s side, “Thanks for the good food and drinks!” Riku beams with a certain glow about her.

“Anytime. Seriously, if I’m not at the club, I’m here—if you ever want a bite.” Iwai offers, "And, we typically open around…” he checks his watch, “now, actually.”

“Well, I can’t pass up an offer like that.” Riku muses, smile turning into a playful smirk, “Maybe I’ll bring some friends, too. Thank you.”

Gojo rises from the stool and to his feet, slipping his hand down to grasp and interlock his fingers with Riku’s free one, “You ready, babe?” He looks at her in a way that’s telling to their physical and growing emotional connection: direct and unashamedly with a touch of infatuation.

“Mhm.” Riku mirrors Gojo’s gaze, not breaking from it until the other turns to say goodbye to Iwai.

“Alright. Thanks, Iwai. See you at the club later.” Gojo waves his hand at the other with the one that doesn’t hold Riku’s.

“See you, Satoru.”

“Bye, Iwai!” Riku raises her coffee towards the man as her and Gojo head towards the door, lifting a few of her fingers from the cup to wave goodbye.

“Bye Riku. Please bring your friends.”

Riku giggles, “Sure thing.”

Gojo holds the door for Riku and she slips through, the bright light of the early afternoon straining her eyes for a moment. When they adjust, she notices the long line that’s already started to wrap around Iwai’s restaurant.

Riku hums in realization, “I thought it was weird a spot with food as good as that wasn’t filled to the brim… No wonder, it wasn’t open yet.”

“Yep.” Gojo pops the ‘p,’ eyes scanning the boardwalk that’s now even more full with beach goers. He retrieves his sunglasses from his pocket and puts them back on. Riku immediately feels eyes on them when they exit the izakaya, but Gojo doesn’t seem phased by it. He looks used to it, if anything. Do they really stand out so much?

“This way.” Gojo begins to walk them towards the right, gently squeezing Riku’s hand before doing so, “You wanna take the boardwalk way, or walk by the ocean?”

Riku looks around at the unmistakable hundreds if not thousands of people that crowd the long stretch of boardwalk that at least stretches for half a mile, “Um… beach, please.”

“You got it, princess.” Gojo navigates through the crowd with Riku at his side until they reach a beach entrance.

Riku downs the rest of her coffee as they approach the sand and dumps the cup in a nearby trash can, beginning to dig in her bag for her sun shades. She finally finds and slips them on, “You need sunscreen?” She suggests, pulling out and brandishing a small spray bottle from her purse.

“Nah, I’m good babe. Put some on this morning. But thanks.” Gojo doesn’t look at Riku but continues to walk them through the groups of people set up on the beach sand, keeping his hand locked with hers as they navigate through the uneven, sliding slopes of sand in their flip flops.

“Okay, but you should reapply, you know.” Riku says, putting her sunscreen back into her back before zipping it up again, “I did back at the restaurant.”

“That how you keep your skin so soft?” Gojo asks, finally glancing at Riku once they reach the bit of hard sand just before the ocean waves. It’s far less crowded than the beach and boardwalk, and Riku is glad she chose this route. They begin to walk along the stretch of wet sand.

“That’s part of it,” Riku notes, “you have pretty nice skin, too, you know.”

Gojo laughs once, “Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before. Not with all these scars.” He shrugs his shoulders and lifts his free hand, vaguely gesturing to the faint lines that litter his arms.

Riku glances down, using her hand that’s interlocked with Gojo’s to lift his hand closer to her face. She examines one of the more noticeable, long scars on Gojo’s forearm, running the pads of her fingers up the line of it and the thick veins just underneath until she reaches the bulky, toned muscle of his bicep. Even with the scars, his skin is taught and smooth to the touch, “They’ve healed really well, though.”

Gojo glances down, watching Riku inspect him with a faint smile on his lips, “Thanks, Ricchan.” He pauses, “You know, princess, you’d make a really good girl if you weren’t a crazy troublemaker raised by yakuza.”

Riku wants to be upset, but is too exhausted to have an angry bone in her body and can’t help but burst into laughter to Gojo’s words—they were kind of true, after all.

Gojo joins instantaneously, bending at the waist a bit from the good chuckle his own words had given him.

Riku pulls her hand out of Gojo’s hold, pushing his shoulder with as much strength as she can muster, “You’re an asshole.”

To Riku’s surprise, Gojo doesn’t move much from her push and simply laughs as if it was a light pat, “Uh-huh,” he grabs her arm, pulling her into his side and locking their hands once more. He bends close to her ear so only she can hear his next words, “but you like it when I’m mean to you.”

Riku lazily shoulder checks the man, but keeps her hand in his, “Shut up.” She blushes, looking off towards the water.

Gojo’s hums a small chuckle, “You don’t have to hide, babe… you can say that you like it.” His smirk turns into an alluring one and he speaks lowly, “You’re so fucking cute.” Gojo gently ruffles Riku’s hair then kisses her temple.

“People done say shit like that out loud!” Riku whisper-yells, cheeks still bright red.

“They should.” Gojo says simply, “I’d personally like to see the look on your face while saying how much you like what I do to you.” Aside from their combined presence alone, the end of Gojo’s words garner a few eyes from a few people passing by them on the beach.

“Shh!” Riku uses her hand in Gojo’s to yank his arm down.

The man only cackles in response.

“How long is it to the gym, anyways?” Riku changes the subject, frustratingly rubbing the side of her forehead. Why does he only ever want to talk about horny shit like this?

“Just fifteen minutes, give or take.” Gojo looks down the stretch of beach.

“The gym’s on the beach?”

“Basically. It’s on the other end of the boardwalk.” He clarifies.

“Oh.” Riku bites her lip when there’s a long pause in their conversation. She looks up at Gojo, who looks like he has his eyes focused on something in the distance, or is thinking about something. She decides to break the silence, “How long have you been doing martial arts?”

Gojo glances over to Riku, “Since I was 3.”

Riku’s eyes widen, “Wow, isn’t that a bit early?”

“Not for the Gojo clan, it isn’t. It’s pretty standard practice, and it’s part of the reason our family is ranked where it is.”

“Yeah, but that must’ve been rough…” Riku searches Gojo’s face for any telling emotions, but there aren’t any; he seems completely at ease about his upbringing. She brushes her hand over Gojo’s faintly scarred arm, “Are any of these from when you were a kid?”

“No,” Gojo cocks his chin upwards, and Riku immediately spots a small, white scar just beneath his jaw, “but this is.”

“Ouch,” Riku instinctively reaches up with her free hand to rub her fingers over it, “What happened?”

Gojo lowers his head back down, “I was 11, so a bit older, but there was this little girl in trouble, so I took down a bunch of muscle from a foreign syndicate that was attacking her family.”

“Aww, so you were a hero.”

Gojo shakes his head, then meets Riku’s gaze again, a curiously knowing look in his eyes, “Not quite. Both of us almost died in the process. There was a bad fire, too.”

Riku suddenly sees a flash of white, but it’s not the beach sand… It feels like she’s recalling something. It flashes again and a sharp pain tears through her head. This time the white of a flame? No, white hair…? Riku stops in her tracks, immediately pulling out of Gojo’s grasp to clasp her hands over the sides of her head. She winces, “Ah…!”

“Ri, are you okay?” Gojo turns and holds Riku’s shoulders, noticeably concerned.

Riku continues to wince with her eyes closed and holds her own face.

“Riku, are you alright?” Gojo squeezes Riku’s shoulders tighter.

Riku only hears Gojo this second time, when the flash of white fades from her vision, “Mm, yeah…” she sighs when the sharp pain in her head quickly fades into nothing, “I’m good. Sorry, that hasn’t happened in years… Like, since I was a teenager.” She drops her hands from her face, confused to why she’d had a headache now of all times.

“You sure you good?” Gojo bends close to Riku to cup and hold her head in his hands, “You need me to carry you to the gym, princess?” The concern on his face turns into a smirk.

“God, no. Please don’t do that.” Riku shakes her head furiously.

“Well, always here if you change your mind, babe.” Gojo rejoins his hand with Riku’s, giving it a small squeeze.

“Thanks, Satoru.” Riku says softly, mostly looking in the distance as they begin to walk again.

Gojo fake-gasps, “Did I just hear a thank you? From the brat herself?? I can’t believe it!”

Riku pokes Gojo’s bicep with the point of her nail, narrowing her eyes at him, “Hey, don’t push it. You’ll never hear one again if you act that way.”

Gojo quickly reaches back to slap Riku’s rear, and looks down at her in feigned confusion, pretending he hadn’t just heard her words, “What was that?”

Riku jumps with a yelp, mostly from the preexisting soreness on her ass, “Agh…! What the fu—” she cuts herself off when she notes the unmoving, stern look on Gojo’s face, just centimeters from hers. It’s the kind of look that says, ‘Didn’t you just say you’d be a good girl for the rest of the day?’ Riku sighs, not wanting to fight Gojo’s dominant inclinations over this, “Never mind…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Riku grumbles under her breath, sure that she would have blown a fuse if it weren't for the people on the beach around them—and if it wasn't Gojo. She couldn't deny the sick part of herself that liked the other being in control. Was this how things were always going to be between us? Laughing and kissing one moment, and pissed at each other the very next?

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lady-wallace · 1 year ago

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Whumptober Day 8 - "Under Cover" (Jujutsu Kaisen)

In today's Whumptober fic: tired business man beats up cocky jujutsu sorcerer to save his life. I hope you all enjoy. (Also this is spoiler free just so you know)

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Prompts Used: Outnumbered Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Character: Gojo

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Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

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Nanami was instantly greeted by two guards as he got out of the car. He remained passive as they checked him for weapons, removing the handgun he had tucked into his shoulder holster as part of the ploy.

"You may go in," one of the guards said, motioning him through the doors of the club.

Nanami straightened his coat and tie and strode inside.

The club was closed, at least for regular business, but the owner had his own business to see to, and Nanami was, unfortunately, caught up in that as well, all thanks to the perpetually insufferable Gojo Satoru.

The idiot's newest headache causing event had been him getting kidnapped by a yakuza family who also happened to deal in Cursed Objects and other similar relics. Including their newest acquisition: the Gojo clan's only Six Eyes user.

A clan that was not willing to deal even for Gojo's life apparently, and passed it off to the school to deal with.

So now in a desperate bid from Jujutsu High and the surrounding schools to get their most powerful asset back—aside from the people who would rather see Gojo gone for good—Nanami was posing as a contractor from one of the rival clans to go in and pick Gojo up.

He had honestly thought the idea was ridiculous, but the higher ups had insisted that the man they were dealing with wouldn't sell Gojo back to them, and it would be better to create a ruse around hauling him off to be put down quietly, promising protection should a war between the clans break out as a result.

And, who better to play the role of calm, cold assassin than Nanami Kento?

In all honesty, hauling Gojo out to a deserted part of the countryside and putting a bullet in his head sounded pretty good to the sorcerer right now, if he thought it would do any good.

He was led to the back of the club where the young yakuza family head lounged against a bar with a drink in his hand, grinning as he saw Nanami.

"Ah, you made it. So your boss didn't decide to back out after all?"

"No, the deal will proceed as planned," Nanami said, handing over the briefcase he held.

The man nodded to two of his goons to take it and they opened the case, showing off stacks and stacks of yen neatly piled up.

"Good," the man said, motioning Nanami forward. "Now, as promised, I'll let you inspect the goods before you make the final call—just so you can see we have the authentic product up for offer."

He led Nanami through a thick curtain to a private room which was filled to the brim with armed men. Nanami calculated quickly, and was not happy with what he saw.

His original plan had been to go in, and take out as many men as he could—preferably all of them. However, they certainly weren't taking any chances, probably because Gojo had a bit of a reputation. He was going to have to quickly think of something else then…

Speaking of Gojo, the man was looking a little worse for wear, sitting slumped over and bound to a chair in the center of the room full of yakuza toughs. To top it off, his restraints were covered in warding that was undoubtedly keeping his powers at bay.

"Here is he," the family head said, motioning with a flourish to the captive sorcerer.

One of the men stepped forward, wrenching Gojo's head up by the hair. Eerie blue eyes shot open and a dopey grin spread over his face as he saw Nanami.

"H-hey, would you look at that! If it isn't ol' Na—"

Nanami acted quickly, already striding forward, and slamming his fist directly into Gojo's face before he could even finish his sentence.

The man's shock was obvious, staring up at him with wide eyes, blood running down his chin from a split lip. "W-what are you—"

Shut up! Nanami snarled silently as he punched Gojo again, splitting the skin across his cheek. Don't you see what I'm trying to do, you idiot? Play along!

Gojo finally shut up after that blow and Nanami hoped he got the picture. He adjusted the gloves he was wearing and turned to the yakuza family head. "I apologize, he has been a thorn in the clan's side for a very long time and I wanted the satisfaction of punching him in the face."

The man laughed, a gleeful look in his eyes as he motioned grandly. "By all means, continue! You've given me the money, I'm not stopping you."

Nanami stared at Gojo who was looking back at him, wary. He weighed his options quickly, knowing that hesitation could count toward his presumed professionalism or it could only cause suspicion.

And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he might just have thought about a moment like this often. Perhaps more often than he should have.

So, to sell the role, he turned back to Gojo and drove his fist into his face once more.

Gojo let out a sound of surprised pain, head snapping back. Nanami didn't stop there. He kept throwing punches, bloodying Gojo's annoyingly handsome face, and delivering more blows to his ribs and stomach, causing him to grunt, eyes blowing wide with shock and pain, doubling over as far as his restraints would allow.

Nanami wasn't that cruel though, he got to work out his frustrations, and moved on. He knew Gojo had a very low tolerance for pain—what else could be expected from a man who didn't allow himself to be hurt? Who barely knew the feeling of a stubbed toe like the rest of them. Nanami would be lying if he were to claim that seeing pain on Gojo's face didn't give him some small bit of satisfaction, but he knew when the man had had enough and he kicked his chair over as a final blow, leaving Gojo panting and moaning past bloody teeth on the ground.

Nanami brushed his hair back with the back of his wrist. "I really needed that," he muttered.

"I can tell," the yakuza head said with a twisted smile. "Satisfied with your purchase then?"

Before Nanami could reply one of the goons came up to whisper in his boss's ear and Nanami suddenly found the family head's gun pointed at him.

"What are you playing at?"

Nanami frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The money's fake," the man snarled, stepping forward and shoving the gun against Nanami's temple. "So who the hell are you really?"

Nanami glanced down at Gojo who was looking back up at him with a steady glance—or as steady as it could be with one eye swelling shut.

Nanami simply sighed, and reached up to loosen his tie. "Why do you insist on causing so much annoyance to me?" he muttered.

"Hey, hands up!" the yakuza man said.

Nanami felt his Cursed energy rising to the surface and struck out swiftly at the man's elbow, an audible snap of bones sounded as the gun was sent skittering away with the man's scream.

Blades and guns were drawn as Nanami ducked and yanked Gojo from the chair, dragging him over to a back door, kicking a table over for them to hide behind.

"What the hell kind of rescue is this?" Gojo cried.

Nanami untied him as quickly as he could. "It appears Plan A did not work."

"Plan A was beating the crap out of me?" Gojo asked, incredulously.

Nanami refused to answer, yanking the ropes off of him and hauling him to his feet, dragging him out the back door as more gunshots rang out.

"So what exactly is Blan B?"

"Just shut up. We're going to have to fight our way out of here."

Nanami wrapped his tie around his hand as they came out into the main area of the club, the rest of the yakuza toughs assembled, waiting for them.

"Are you using Infinity?" Nanami asked.

"Yes, now I am—"

Nanami shoved Gojo ahead of him as bullets were fired, all of them coming to a stop before they could hit Gojo who let out a scream all the same.

"Nanami, what the hell!"

But Nanami was already leaping forward, taking out several of the men with a few blows. He was into Overtime now, and while normally he wouldn't use those powers against normal humans, they didn't really have a choice at the moment.

"Stop them!" the yakuza head shouted, staggering out of the back room, clutching his broken arm.

"Time to go," Nanami snapped, grabbing Gojo by the shoulder and hauling him toward the door, possibly using him as a shield for his back in the process. Nanami broke through the door and Gojo finally seemed to get off a blast of power, because something exploded in the club behind them as they made a dash for the car.

Nanami threw Gojo into the passenger seat and raced around, grabbing his keys.

Once they were finally on the road, he breathed a sigh of relief, flexing his bruised fists against the wheel.

Gojo on the other hand was leaning back in the other seat, head tipped back, pinching his nose to keep it from bleeding everywhere as he moaned.

"Shit, Nanami did you have to hit me so hard?"

"I had to sell it."

"Well it didn't work!" Gojo retorted.

Nanami grabbed a handful of napkins from the center console and shoved them toward Gojo. "I would prefer you not bleed everywhere."

Gojo shoved the wad of napkins against his nose, mumbling and moaning under his breath as he nursed his injuries. Nanami would have felt worse if he knew the sorcerer wasn't such a drama queen. He hadn't hit him that hard.

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," Gojo muttered.

"I'm not," Nanami replied. "But we also may have started a feud with one of the yakuza families. In retrospect, it's probably best they figured out I wasn't from one of the clans—otherwise there might be a fullscale war on our hands."

"No shit," Gojo said with a genuinely gleeful laugh. "That would have been pretty funny though."

"I really don't see any humor in it."

"Of course not, but, that being said, that was pretty badass back there." He grinned, poking Nanami in the shoulder. "You know you're actually a lot more fun that I took you for. Is this what you always do on Friday nights?"

Nanami gave him a baleful look before turning back to the road.

Gojo sighed, pressing the napkins to his nose again. "I guess I should say thanks for the rescue, huh? But next time, can you pull your punches a little?"

"I make no promises."

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #jujutsu kaisen #fanfiction #kidnapped for ransom #undercover missions #gojo satoru #nanami kento #gojo whump #jjk fanfic #nanami finally gets to beat gojo up #they're friends

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tojisun · 3 years ago

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no thoughts just bodyguard!toji

thats so hottt omgg!! sorry it took too long, but here’s a 1.3k words drabble of bodyguard toji in a yakuza au because the brainrot goes hardd

also, this certainly ended up very differently than what i started with but i hope you’ll like it <333

━━━━━━ʕ•㉨•ʔ━━━━━━━

A smirk slides on your lips, curling your indifferent mask into something so conniving. Something so manipulative, it had Naoya’s hackles rising.

But just as quick as the surprise came, it sizzled back into a blank slate. You cannot help but commend him for how quick he was able to school his expression as he forced his tensed shoulders to sag, feigning callousness and detachment. Your eyes slide to his clenched fists where his nails dig into his silk hakama — silent in his anger, controlling the output. Really, he deserves the praise. But you hold your tongue, eyes narrowing in interest.

You wait, unwilling to be the one to break the stand-off. You have never liked the silence, having always needed any white noise to filter your thoughts to deprive them from spiralling. But in this choking room with Naoya? You can wait in silence for eons long.

You have never met the heir of the Zenin clan, but rumours speak louder and they go around faster. From the south, whispered by the plush lips of the Inumakis, they spoke of Zenin Naoya’s impatience; how his sharp mind is overshadowed by his tenuous humility. From the east, rumbled from the archaic drawl of the Kamos was the brat’s brashness; how, while some of his actions are backed by his successes, he has more faults. Why, from the north, exclaimed by the supreme Gojos themselves are Naoya’s countless defeats; how, despite the admiration that he is showered with by the Zenins, he could never come close to the Gojo Satoru.

And now, it seems, he’s finally found his way to you. Uninvited. Unprompted. Unwanted.

So you wait, unwilling to bow down before the brat.

Naoya breaks.

“Why’s he here?!” He asks, voice rising into a wavering hiss, almost like he is overwhelmed by his anger. Befitting his reputation, the brat stands and points a finger to the man hovering behind you.

You do not even need to look to know who Naoya is talking about. After all, you made sure that he would be present during your meetup with the Zenin heir.

You hum, leaning forward to pluck your yunomi from the table. The tea has long gone cold, but you raise a dismissing hand toward the maid who stepped forward to replace your cup for a warmer one, after all, you are only drinking to consume time. She bowed before sliding back into the shadows, her green kimono meshing well with the fusuma.

Naoya is shaking in his anger as he watches you take a leisure sip, a quiet hum purring from your throat in exaggerated delight. You place your cup back down, still smiling even as sharp brown eyes track your movements.

Then, as if taking your free mouth as a signal to go on, Naoya asks once again. “What’s Toji-kun doing here, with you?”

“Well now, that’s just rude,” you tut. “I’m an amazing company. Just ask him.” You smile, this one downright mean, as you tip your head towards Toji.

Naoya starts, fury melting into nervousness and anticipation and respect, mixing together seamlessly and leaving the Zenin heir to look too young and too naive. You bark out a laugh, shaking your head incredulously.

“Are you serious?”

Naoya blinks at the sudden rage in your voice. You have only been patronizing, if not outright malicious, as though he was not worth your wrath. But this tone, this one that had Toji straightening behind you, made Naoya nervous.

It made him feel weak.

“You kicked out Toji from your clan because you felt threatened by him–”

“I didn’t–”

“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” you spat out, levelling Naoya with a hard glare, your eyes glinting under the pale lights.

Naoya sews his lips shut, teeth gritting and jaw locking. The familiar coiling of shame bursts in his stomach, licking up along his veins until he is flushed.

“You’re too spoiled, is what you are. Satoru already warned you about your loose tongue, and yet here you are, forgetting your place again.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“You had Toji removed from the clan when you noticed that he was gaining independence, in fear that he could very well overthrow your ‘right.’ I just so happen to pick up the pieces.”

Almost instantly, a yunomi shatters as Naoya slams his hands on the table, mop of dyed hair creating shadows over his bright eyes. “Bullshit! What makes you think that I’ll believe you, huh? For all I know, you made this happen! Maybe you were the one who’s been funding his–”

A resonating slap echoes in the room, cutting off Naoya’s tangent. His trembling hand comes up to feel his swollen cheek, eyes wide in shock as he looks at you with a swarm of emotions bypassing the rings of his irises. You pull your hand back to your being, ignoring the faint stinging of your palm.

“How dare you,” Naoya seethes. His men draw closer, pulling out their guns and pointing them at you. You watch, calm even with the heightened tension, before raising a hand and dismissing the cocked out guns of your own men. There was a moment of silent protests, but ultimately, they holster them back.

“Naoya,” you begin, sitting back down. “What makes you think I owe you any more explanation?”

He sputters.

“Toji-kun’s one of us! What else do you need?!”

“This conversation’s going nowhere.” You chuckle, shaking your head in fake amusement. “I’ve already told you that I picked him up when he was disowned, so tell me, is he still really a Zenin?”

Naoya grows silent, not willing to say the answer that is already out in the open. Nevertheless, you no longer have any interest in hearing more from him. You rise from your seat, intent on leaving and walking away.

But things happened too fast, too messily.

Upon seeing your back turned to him, the Zenin brat lunges at you. There is an onslaught of shouts before warning shots are fired as bodies rush to pull you away from Naoya’s claws. You struggled, heady from being pinned to the tatami floors, before turning and seeing a body slam into Naoya, sending him onto the space beside you.

You are pulled from the chaos, the flurry of serving maids and lower-ranked guards forming a circle around you as the others push the fusuma apart to create an exit.

Blinking bleary eyes, you turn to see Toji pinning the smaller body of Naoya on the tatami, rough palm pushing at the boy’s nape and the other trapping the boy’s thin arms in a grip. Naoya’s legs continue to flounder, but Toji continues to press him down, silently forcing the boy to heel. You turn to Naoya’s men only to see them subdued and tied down by yours, and pride blooms in you.

Finally, Naoya stops wiggling, ending up as a heaving mess whose sharp eyes find yours. They shoot you a glare, and you level him with an unimpressed look.

“A brat’s still a brat, huh, Nao-kun?” Toji asks, voice gruff. You turn to him and Naoya’s attention zips back to Toji. “Your old man knows you goin’ around bein’ a scumbag to clan heads?”

Naoya stills. Toji clicks his tongue.

“Thought so.” Then, he bends down, lips hovering over Naoya’s pierced ears. “Leave before you create more conflict. Need I remind you that an heir has no place here. Not with my lady, and especially not with me here to protect her.” Toji looks at you as he says this, scarred lips pressed together, eyes shining as they convey the depths of his words.

Your lungs burn at seeing his reverence.

. . . . . . . .

(Naoya’s little temper tantrum spreads and, two days later, with the backing of multiple anonymous powers, the old Zenin family crumbles.

From the ashes, Maki Zenin rises.)

━━━━━━ʕ•㉨•ʔ━━━━━━━

yunomi - teacup with no handles

fusuma - sliding panels that are used as walls/doors

tatami floors - mat floors traditionally made of rice straw

#suns.rq #suns.f #toji fusjihuro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro headcanon #jjk #zenin naoya #FUCJ THIS AU GOES HARDD #i love this au sm pleaseeees #i hope you liked this baby and thank u for the req! <33 #suns #anon #ask

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thekillingmoonmoon · 2 years ago

Text

unholy: jujutsu kaisen

gojo satoru

Pairing: Yakuza! Gojo x Fem! Reader Warnings: NSFW, smut, cheating Length: 500

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You know his name before you meet him, hot on the lips of the girls that titter in corners and spend more time gossiping than working. The Blue Dragon. Gojo Satoru, the most infamous man in Tokyo. Famous for winning hearts, infamous for breaking them. He’s married – some sort of arrangement between his clan and another, and he has two children, just as gorgeous as him. They have his eyes, they say, those eyes that could see eternity. You meet those eyes across the bar. Those sparkling skylit eyes, twinkling with mischief. He’s with his right hand man and his personal hitman, two large imposing bodies that flitter and flicker out of your eyeline as you stare at him.

You should stay away, stop yourself from becoming another notch in his bedpost, but something about those entrancing eyes draws you in. You end up dancing with him, once. Your back to his chest whilst his hands travel over your body, assessing if you suited his particular taste. The dance ends with him pulling you down an alley after hours, telling his men to stand watch as he slings your legs over his hips. He fucks you against the wall, powerful thighs thrusting up into your tight little cunt. He’s cursing, muttering out obscenities as he tucks his head into the crook of your neck. You thread your hands into his hair, pulling the silvery strands free of their gelled façade to fall in a snowy silver haze around his head. He bounces you on his cock as if you weigh nothing, and you scramble to hold onto him, his back muscles rippling beneath your hands.

You meet him a second time a week later, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek that quickly becomes a hot mess of grinding and sweat in the back booth of the bar. He’s addicted to you, grabbing and tugging at every fold and curve of flesh as he fucks up into your pussy. The next day a new dress is sitting on your doorstep, a high-end designer’s name emblazoned across the packaging. You don’t know how he knows your size, but you wear it next time you see him, tight and pink and barely leaving anything to the imagination. He tears it off you in seconds, promising you another one as he walks you back into your apartment. You never leave that night, pinned to the bed beneath his powerful, narrow hips. It begins a long string of nights spent within his grasp, learning thenames of his children and what sport they liked to play, trying on every dress in the shop only for him to buy everything for you.

And then you’re discarded, just like the rest, thrown to one side as he crawls back to his wife’s feet, begging and pleading to be taken back into her loving arms. You let yourself be abandoned, holding onto all the things he bought you, using them to lure more men your way. And when you meet his eyes across a bar again, there’s a shared secret, a shared smile, something unholy.

#gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo angst #gojo satoru #killingmoonmoon jjk

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greycaelum · 3 years ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader

(Kaleidoscope Series: Covet Me)

[Mafia Gojo X Ex-Assassin Reader]

[Note & Warning: Proceed with caution, if you are uncomfortable with the theme, please press the 'back' button. Blood, violence, dark themes, illegal works, pinch of yandere, fluff. Mafia Gojo of KSeries is not Yakuza Gojo of 4L&5S Series.]

[Thank you for the 300 followers guys! lemme give you this as my token of gratitude for being with me in this journey, I hope to see you in the next pages, —Grey,]

Mafia Gojo Covet Me: Ace

Mafia Gojo who meet you when you're sent to assassinate him. Through the scope of your Mk13 you watch him wave and smile while your sniper rifle's crossfire aiming in his head. Confused and fascinated of his reaction you put down your gun and look back to the five men behind you already aiming guns to your skull. He already knew...

Mafia Gojo who staged your death killing all the dispatched support tailing behind you, disappointing his enemies. You found out the organization is using you to test the Gojo clan's leader and his temper and they did got a display of power, it's just that it resulted to whole division 5 completely wiped out.

Mafia Gojo who took you in after running a detailed background check on you, sealing your death certificate and fabricating a new identity for you. Why would he do that? He didn't expect your answer when he asked why didn't you pull the trigger.

"You're the first one that smiled to me," you said with a straight face and soft dark eyes as if looking something so distant when he's just right in front of you.

He loves your wit. He's fixated to honesty, a person who will say 'a spade is a spade'. You're raised in an environment where lying is easier than the truth but it strikes him how blunt and raw you could be...

Your body is a plus but it's your comebacks that charmed him about you totally drawn and interested to your reactions from your breathing to the flutters of your eyes, every word from your lips the way you stare with a far away look Satoru observes you a lot.

Satoru wasn't planning to keep you. Well not until you save and nursed his cat, which his mother left under his care while she's in Milan for a fashion week tour. Heavens forbid the cat is precious than the Queen, and angry mothers are scary mothers.

Satoru who asks you if you want to leave his mansion. You declined telling him you're tired of killing and a change of routine and life isn't bad. You simply crave for simple domesticity and 'normal life'.

Mafia Gojo who would start making advances which you accept from lazy to salacious kisses, turning to heavy petting and scandalous moans only to leave him high and dry-either his work or the cat is looking for you. Pesky feline, if not for his mother he would've thrown the dastardly Ashera cat to his pet tigers.

Mafia Gojo owns two white Bengal tigers—it's up to you if you wanna meet them.

Satoru who demand you to read him classic manuscript during bedtime. He sleeps well when you're around lessening his severe insomnia.

Satoru who would have a garden built after knowing you have come to like flowers. He would let you plant the flowers yourself and even help to spend time with you. Cue for Suguru to sigh seeing one of the most powerful and scariest man in the underground world throwing mud balls and raking the flower bed with you.

Satoru who prefer eating the burned eggs you cook than the ones his chef makes.

Mafia Gojo who would start looking forward to come home and find you in the backyard pavilion sleeping on the hammock with an open book by your side, quietly he would slid beside to hug you from behind pressing your back to his chest.

Satoru who would keep cracking jokes to make you smile.

Satoru who will teach you how to live life than just breathing to live. Making up the lost years of your life from just blindly following the orders. Satoru who will teach you how to appreciate and love yourself. He's satisfied whenever a smile graze your soft lips. He will teach you to fuck the rules and listen to your heart.

Satoru who craves your attentions and physical affection, cuddles and kisses being his favorite form of domestic acts, you two snuggled on the hammock as you read or simply talk to him fills the void of darkness within.

Satoru who smiles like a fool whenever you change and arrange a new flower arrangement to be placed in his office. Awards you with back hugs while arranging the flowers for him.

Mafia Gojo who would ask your expertise in firearms when checking their recent delivery.

Mafia Gojo who will hunt down anyone who dares to touch you and threaten the quiet life you built.

Mafia Gojo who would spoil you and acquire anything you want from the black market and auctions.

Mafia Gojo who will tour you from the houses he have, observing which you find comfortable the most and settle you there, going home in your arms after his exhausting illegal work. Your eyes always calms and blow away the grey clouds brewing in him.

Mafia Gojo cracking in fury and vitriol after a failure in the recent mission. The secretary downstairs calls him you're here, in the headquarters to bring him lunch. Immediately dismissing the meeting with promising anger to his executives but the wrath softens up seeing you come in his office, he invites you, patting his lap and receive your kisses that melts the anger to tender adoration of you caring for him.

Mafia Gojo who fills his office with flowers from you.

Mafia Gojo taking candid, epic, beautiful photos of you to fill his bedroom's built-in picture frame all but you in each photograph.

Mafia Gojo pulling you to sit on his lap, addicted to your sweet weight pressed above him, your head resting on his shoulder while you fiddle with his fingers.

Mafia Gojo who would sneak in your room to kiss your forehead goodnight.

Mafia Gojo will pull strings when you want ton open a small business for your leisure but would look out that it won't get too much attention to prevent enemies targeting you.

Mafia Gojo who loves you picking his suit and tie, he wouldn't dirty them as much as possible.

Mafia Gojo who became a hundred times ruthless and bloody to those who tried and still trying to take you away from him or use you as an Achilles Heel against the strongest.

He'll prove you're not his weakness, if only they know you're his Queen and his Ace.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more.

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned, image(s) and song(s) used belong to their respective owner(s).

Taglist: @ice-icebaby

#gojo satoru imagines #greycaelum #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #mafia au #jjk mafia gojo #mafia gojo fluff #mafia gojo #mafia gojo yandere #yandere gojo

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gojoest · 4 days ago

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yakuza clan gojo rubbing off on you a bit in some ways.

you pick up some of his mannerisms, some of his attitude, and some snarky behavior. not in a cocky "oh my husband will save me" way. that much is obvious, but in a more "i have my own power / influence, and i'm not putting up with your bullshit" kinda thing.

like that grumpy / deadpan look megumi got from satoru. you do the same thing.

idk if i'm explaining this right at all ;-;

omg yes + bonus points if you always manage to get yourself in danger despite how strictly he guards you and scare the shit out of him. somehow you manage to sneak out of the mansion unnoticed and he is freaking out — he’s got all the yakuza force out looking for you with guns and sirens only to find you petting a stray cat in the park. literally falls on his knees in front of you and pulls you in by the waist, head buried in your belly. he’s pretty sure that you will be the end of him one day and not a fellow yakuza. after that incident he puts a tracking device on you……bc you’re too smart for his men to deal with and too important for him to not know where you are at all times. you also bicker so much and never listen to him, you basically cannot stand him but the sex is so good…. he makes you sink on his cock every night, somehow the only time you’re tame and cooperate with him is when he pounds the life out of you

#[ ai—mail ]#ᓚᘏᗢ — meowtuals #yakuza clan head!gojo satoru #[ ♡ ] — satoru

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siriuslysatorusimping · 1 year ago

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*Preview* Gokudō Chapter 2 (a Gojo Satoru/Kurisaki Rinko Yakuza AU)

Update: Posted on AO3

“We can go back and forth about favors all night if you want, or you can tell me what your cousin is doing back here. You gonna tell me you’re back in the family business?”

She stiffened immediately, her eyes moving to glare at Gojo as he raised his eyebrows.

“Selling women like livestock is the clan’s business, not mine,” Toji replied, his tone harsh as he sent Gojo a glare. “Didn’t realize you were interested that-”

“We got outta that business decades before I took over,” he waved his hand absently. “No interest in getting back into it. I have some morals. Not to mention that it’s more trouble than it’s worth, anyway.”

“You wanted information about the new deal between Shimura and Zenin,” Toji nodded toward her. “She can get it for you. More than capable.”

“That so?”

Gojo’s eyes trailed down her body before traveling back up slowly, settling on her chest for just a moment before raising his eyebrows.

“That have to do with those stilettos between your tits?” he asked, licking his lips slowly. “Very sexy, pretty girl. Looking forward to getting a better look at those later.”

#gojo satoru x original female character #goinko yakuza au #gojo/rinko yakuza au #jjk yakuza #yakuza gojo #yakuza fic #gokudō preview #gokudō #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years ago

Note

Hiii may I request Getou + 5 + female reader please? Thank youuu and I hope you have an amazing day/night💗

This is a whole MOOD.

Here you go, sunshine! Thank you for requesting!

Son of My Enemy: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: none

The sounds of the Christmas party in full swing bring you joy.

For years, you begged your mother to let you plan the yearly event that drew the most elite crowd away from the stagnant shores of winter and onto the fertile grasses of the Mitsuhashi estate. This year, you were given full reign to do as you pleased: dress code, invitations, decor, food assortment, everything.

And it looks like months of planning led you straight to success. As the paparazzi attempts to catch photos of the most famous guests from outside, you make your rounds as the hostess for the evening, smiling at old family friends and introducing yourself to the newest addition to the elite crew: Maki and Mai Zenin. Nobara Kugasaki, Maki’s girlfriend, also joined them, her eyes shifting over the crowd as you approached them, but softening up once you mention Louis Vuitton and Emilio Pucci.

“They’re sweet girls,” you think aloud to your best friend, Mei Mei, who simply sips on her champagne and shrugs. “Do you thin--” A flurry of commotion attracts your attention to the front of the ballroom, and two tall males make their way into the room, dressed to the nines in tailor-made suits and simple accessories. Your chin instinctively tilts a little higher when you recognize the sons of two high-ranking Saiko-komons in the Takadashi syndicate.

One of them, Gojo Satoru, is the epitome of a cocky bastard. His strut, his white hair, his blue eyes, and his good looks make him the most popular of the two, despite rumors swirling around his lack of morality and lack of condoms. The other one, Geto Suguru, is less cocky, but more cunning. The black-haired fox face makes a great wingman, you note, noticing how he smiles at everyone in an unassuming way. They’re obviously the Yin and Yang of your age group, and they act like it, too.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n…” Gojo chants, rubbing his palms together when he sees you. “You’ve outdone yourself tonight. This will be a party everyone talks about for a week, then goes back to looking for the next party in time for New Year’s.” You want to smack the smirk off of his face and make it a party everyone talks about for years, but instead, you hold your resolve, letting Mei Mei respond.

“If you two hadn’t drug yourselves into the room, I’m sure they would have talked about the civility of the party compared to last year’s fiasco.” The memory of a destroyed oversized nutcracker flashes in your mind, and you press your lips together in displeasure.

“Why are you two here?” you wonder, and Suguru raises a brow.

“You act like we weren’t invited.”

“By who?” you ask, and Gojo whips out an invitation, the gold, and white color almost exactly like the ones you sent out in July. When you look at the paper, you’re surprised to see Gojo and Getou’s names in raised gold lettering on the invite. “I left you guys off the list this year,” you recall, distinctly remembering telling your assistant that Geto and Gojo would be marked off the list of potential guests and watching her draw a line through the names on her ever-shrinking list.

“You forged it,” Mei Mei grunts, snatching the card. She looks it over as well, then holds it up to the light to see if the watermark - copyrighted by your family - would appear. And sure enough, it did. “Hm. Looks like your brother or your mom has some explaining to do.”

“Yuta’s here?” Gojo presses, and you observe him standing on his tip-toes to see over the crowd easier. When he finds his target, he heads off in that direction, and you flash Mei Mei a look that begs her to follow him. She nods once, then disappears into the crowd. You assume Suguru has left as well, but when you turn around, you’re thoroughly surprised to see him still standing there, eyes drifting over your red sequined dress and strappy gold heels. He lets out an appreciative whistle and murmurs,

“Damn, y/n. You look beautiful tonight.”

“I always do,” you retort, turning away from Satoru’s sidekick while rolling your eyes. He follows you to the bar, where you order a rum and coke, hoping to be rid of the headache that followed you.

“You know, I would’ve thought you’d soften up by now. I didn’t expect you to still be miffed about the--”

“Can we not talk about this here?” you inquire, sighing deeply. Geto shrugs his shoulders and raises a brow.

“Would you rather we talk about it in the broom closet like last time?” You curl your lip up as the bartender delivers your drink, and you wonder if Suguru has any decency left in him as you turn away again, leaving him at the bar.

“I’d rather you leave me alone.”

“My tongue still remembers the way you taste,” he calls out, catching the attention of a few party-goers in the vicinity. You freeze, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks, and Suguru reappears in your line of vision, smirking. “I knew that would get you to pause. Now will you hear me out or will you continue to act like this? My ears can remember the way you scr--” You grab his wrist, growling,

“Meet me upstairs in the drawing-room in ten minutes.” His triumphant smile is enough to let you know he’ll be there.

_____________________________________________________________

The door opens and closes quickly behind you, and you turn to face the intruder with a frown.

“You’re hell-bent on embarrassing me, aren’t you?” Suguru walks past the various couches in the room to approach you, sliding off his dark blue jacket and casting it on a chaise lounge.

“Not as hell-bent as I am to be with you.”

“Just because we fucked while we were on vacation last year doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t really think he’s a terrible person - or a bad lay - but his status as an associate with the Yakuza isn’t doing him any favors. But why would your mother (or brother, for that matter) invite him to the Christmas party?

“I’ve been pursuing you since then, and you’ve been brushing me off,” he notes, fingering the timepiece on the mantle. “But you and I both know why you’re not allowing me to get close to you.” When he rolls up his sleeves, you can see the various tattoos scattered about his forearms. “Just tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

You look over at the man in the firelight and consider telling him to go away and never contact you again, but that would negate your feelings. Sure, you felt attracted to Geto. That much you could admit to yourself. But could you admit that to him?

“I brought you a gift.” He motions toward his jacket, and you sit on the chaise lounge before digging around in the pockets. You pull out a medium-sized white box, and open it slowly, the gleam of diamonds catching your eye. A Vivienne Westwood tennis bracelet sits neatly inside, and you look up at Suguru, who leans on the mantle, eyes watching you carefully.

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” you whisper, but he shrugs, blinking.

“Consider it your Christmas present.”

“But I don’t think--”

“Don’t think too much of it. First, though, I want to apologize for causing a scene. Second, I want you to know that even though I’m part of the Takadashi clan…” Suguru runs a hand through his long hair, sighing. “It doesn’t mean that I’m going to make your life hell. I know what your mother went through with your father, but I swear that I’ll make sure you’re not put in harm’s way. Ever.”

“Yuta invited you,” you realize, and a lazy grin slides over his face.

“He called me and told me your trepidation.”

You shake your head, putting the box down on his jacket, and standing. “Why would my brother tell you that?” Suguru pushes off the mantle and walks toward you, hands now stuffed in his pockets. When he stops in front of you, you contemplate rising up on your tiptoes to reach his lips, but he tilts your chin up with his right hand instead.

“I guess he saw me pining after you and felt bad.”

“He’s not the type to take pity on anyone,” you counter.

“He’s also not the type to be in talks with the Takadashi clan about securing some sort of protection against the other clans, is he?” By now, Geto’s closed the space between you easily, pressing his other hand to the small of your back. “Besides, wouldn’t it be fun to play bodyguard and heiress? Have you tried that?” he murmurs against your lips, and you press yours to his in response.

“It wouldn’t be unheard of,” you reply softly, and he kisses you again, holding you flush against him while you two make out in the firelight of the drawing-room.

#geto x reader #getou suguru #getou x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru

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orivaa-kun · 1 year ago

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BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 1: About That Life

chapter word count: 8k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

Riku groans when she hears her phone alarm chime for the fourth time tonight but begins to stir beneath the covers of her futon. All she wanted to do was rest after a long day of work – but it was that time of year again, the night of the annual gala for all Tokyo Yakuza clans.

Riku hears footsteps in the hall outside of her room, “You better be getting ready in there,” her cousin Umika warns, before swiftly sliding the screen door open and flicking on the lights. Umika sighs at the sight of Riku still in bed and shakes her head, “Typical.” Umika is already wearing her fitted, black maxi dress with lace sleeves that’s rose pattern beautifully curled around the deep tan skin of her arms. Her hair is blown out into big ringlet curls that fell around her face and reached her shoulders.

“The fuck are we celebrating, anyways… another year of crime?” Riku grumbles and throws the covers over her own head.

Umika sighs, crossing her arms as she stood in the doorway, “Riku, you know this is about showing respect to the top clans. Not going would be disrespectful in itself. Also, that crime paid for this house, so show a little appreciation, yeah?”

Riku doesn’t know why she tries to reason with Umika of all people, but continues to anyways, “But shouldn’t Uncle Jin be enough? He’s the leader of the clan, and you’re his heir!” She pulls the covers down to look at Umika.

“Look, I don’t make the rules. You get invited to the gala, you go. If you don’t, bad shit happens, and our whole family takes the hit. That’s it. Now get off your ass!”

Riku moans in feigned agony, “Fine.” She slips out of her futon, beginning to fold it up on the tatami covered floor.

“And you better hurry, too; my dad is already on the way there.” Umika begins to slide the screen door back, leaving Riku’s room, “We’re leaving in 15!”

“You hate me!” Riku shouts, dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah…” Umika waves the comment away, already down the hall once more.

When Riku appears in the main room, she’s wearing a champagne-colored, silk, and sleeveless mini dress that shimmered under the light. Without time to flat iron or do much of anything to her hair, she’d decided to wear her jet black curls in a neat, high bun, and dedicated the bulk of her 15 minutes to doing a quick ‘no-makeup’ makeup look. She fumbles her hand around in her white and black leather-lined clutch, making sure she has the essentials, “Umika, do you know where my black hee-”

Umika raises the pair of black, red-bottoms up in the air, already approaching the front door, “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Umika~!” Riku smiles over at her cousin lovingly, which is promptly ignored.

Nanami glances up from his phone at Umika’s announcement, eyes widening briefly when he sees Riku. He stands and whistles, taking a moment to admire her long legs and the glow of her café au lait skin, “Wow, you look nice-”

Riku smiles, about to thank him but is cut off by his next words.

“-was beginning to think you only wore sweatpants and t-shirts.” The blonde teases, smirking. Nanami wore an all-black suit tonight, different from his usual tan and blue shirt combination. He’s only 4 years older than Riku (25) and 2 years older than Umika (27), but he’s always far more serious about his work, that is, unless he’s having a drink with friends or cracking jokes at Riku’s expense.

She frowns, “You know, Kento, a clan bodyguard should be a lot nicer than you are.” Riku heads to the door and retrieves her heels from Umika before slipping into them.

Nanami follows behind her to activate the automatic lock on the door, “A clan bodyguard protects the clan,” he shrugs, “sorry sweetheart, not obligated to do anything else.” He begins to set up the home security system from his phone app as they make their way outside.

“Isn’t our family still ranked 11th out of the 15 clans in Tokyo?” Riku asks, genuinely, “Why do we have to go to this thing after all these damn years?” She briefly looks over the massive, combined traditional and modern style Japanese property that she and the whole Ozaki clan call home – though, it had been a bit empty with Uncle Jin and others out on business. As always, Umika and Riku were left to handle the day-to day tasks of their family’s businesses while their elders have other issues to attend to.

The trio approaches the black Chevy SUV parked in the center of the driveway circle, and Nanami opens the back door for the two women, “Your family is ranked 10th now, and though the rankings are based on each clan’s strength and annual generated revenue, we all still work together…”

“…to contribute to the Tokyo syndicate.” Riku choruses the last part with Nanami as she slips into the car behind Umika, having heard this sentence uttered at least a hundred times by Tokyo clan leaders. She rolls her eyes, “I know. Just seems useless for us to be traveling an hour into and out of the city to play dress up and drink expensive champagne... when we could, you know, be resting so we can actually have the energy to run all our damn studios, museums, and concert venues, ya know?”

Nanami closes the door once Riku is inside then slips into the driver’s seat before starting the car, “Ri, I’m already working overtime protecting you two today – you don’t have to convince me.” He begins to steer the SUV out of the circle and onto the main stretch of driveway that led to a large glossy black and bronze gate that slowly began to open at Nanami’s press of a button beside the rear-view mirror.

“You’re mistaken, Riku,” Umika speaks up, in the midst of typing up an email for something that was most likely business related, “this is part of the job.”

Riku lets her cousin’s words sink in. Well, Umika isn’t wrong about that. For a minute, Riku wonders how many other members of the Tokyo Yakuza would rather not be at the gala tonight.

“Ken, can you turn the music up?” Riku asks; it would be a long ride, after all.

“Sure thing, Ms. Ozaki.” Nanami nearly coos with a bit of extra formality, mostly because he knows how much Riku hates being addressed by her clan and family name.

When they arrive at the Gojo clan’s estate – well, one of the Gojo clan’s many estates in Tokyo – Nanami exits the driver’s seat and opens the back door for Umika and Riku before offering his hand to help each of them step down from the SUV. He meets eyes with Riku when she takes his hand, “Ma’am.”

“Shut up, Kento.”

He smirks just barely, then closes the door and tosses the keys to the valet.

There are two guards in all black suits and shades who nod at each other after sizing the three of them up, then move to open the main door to the conglomerate of mansion-like buildings. If the Ozaki home is massive, this is… simply otherworldly. It would take hours just to walk through the entire estate once. While one of the guards taps the com in his ear and mumbles something about the rest of the Ozaki family invitees entering, Riku glances over the expansive acres of property that she had only seen a few times before in years past. She takes in and notes the obvious Roman and British influences on the structure of the main building’s pillars, marble work, courtyard, and ivory shading. As visually overwhelming as the estate is, she can’t deny it is the perfect place to host hundreds of wealthy yakuza assholes.

The main door opens and the talkative noise of gangsters chatting and live musicians playing in the great ballroom immediately hits their ears. Two women in uniform check them for weapons then greet and welcome them in the entryway. The artist in Riku can’t help but hate the elaborate combination of white marble and gold all over the floors and walls; it was too stuffy and there was hardly any real sense of artistic intention driving the floor plan nor décor of this mansion, other than money, “Ugh… they call this a home?” Riku says beneath her breath, mostly to Umika who walked beside her, “Gross. How could anyone seriously live here?”

“Shh!” Umika quickly retorts, “Not the time!!” She whisper yells between closed teeth.

A uniformed man with a tray of champagne flutes strides over, and Riku takes a glass while Umika waves her hand at the man to decline. If Riku has to be here, she at least wants something to bear it a little easier. She takes a long sip from the glass as Umika scans the ballroom for her father, finally catching sight of Jin Ozaki who just happens to be at one of the bars shaking hands with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto – the youngest and strongest clan leaders of the Tokyo syndicate. That said, they are still about Nanami’s age. There’s an overwhelming presence from that side of the room in general, and Riku doesn’t want to be anywhere near it.

“Oh great, it’s your friends.” Riku remembered Nanami sharing that he’d gone to the same private school with Gojo and Geto. She takes another, much longer sip from her glass, nearly finishing it.

“I’m gonna say hi to dad and some folks. You coming?” Umika asks, with zero excitement in her voice.

“Over there? Absolutely not.” Riku shakes her head. Gojo and Geto are the strongest for a reason and isn’t just because of their clans’ combined manpower and money. It’s because of their dangerously powerful business skills and practices. They are ruthless when it comes to advancing their goals and clan business ventures and aren’t afraid to use violence to get what they want – or so Riku hears, “I’ll catch up with Uncle Jin at our table.”

Riku strides over to the seated area where a gala waitress directs her to her table. Riku thanks her when they arrive at a table with a card in the center that reads ‘10’… 10th place out of the 15 families… of course, she thinks, “Thank you, I don’t know you all remember all these names to be able to direct us so easily…” Riku says in an apologetic tone, sitting in the seat that had her name card in front of it. Of course, her seat faces the back of the room instead of the stage and she would have to twist her neck just to look at the front. She isn’t from a top ranked clan and isn’t even the heir of the family. It all makes sense, but that doesn’t make this petty seating bullshit any less annoying.

The waitress rubs the back of her neck with a shy laugh, “Hah, it’s just part of the job, ma’am. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait for the rest of the Ozaki family?” The dining area is practically empty as most are socializing over near the open bars and live music.

“Uh, yes. Can I get a really strong old fashioned, and another glass of champagne?” Riku tucks her clutch next to her in the seat and neatly folds her hands over her lap.

“Of course, Ms. Ozaki!” As soon as the words leave the waitress’s mouth, a man in uniform appears behind her and is already refilling her flute, “Just a moment for the old fashioned.” She smiles in a practiced yet kind way.

Riku nods and the woman disappears. Riku releases a soft sigh as her eyes trail over the whole ballroom, squinting a bit as she she now sees Nanami and Geto laughing and clinking glasses of whiskey, while Umika chats with some friends of hers on the opposite side of the room. Part of her wonders where Gojo and Uncle Jin had gone but she doesn’t try to think much about it. For all she knows they could be in a back room talking business or something.

Riku opens the clutch at her side to check her phone for the time. 21:40. It would be 20 minutes until the gala starts, “20 minutes closer to getting the fuck out of here…” She mutters under her breath.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

Riku turns in her seat to find two men standing behind her, one with his hand on her chair, “Hi,” she manages in a voice that is more customer-service sounding than authentic. The man with his hand on her chair seems to be in his late 30s and wears a flashy burgundy suit, while the other looks to be in his 40s and has on a gold-colored tux. Both are fashion choices that make Riku want to throw up in her mouth a little bit.

“What’s your name, sexy?” The one in the burgundy suit questions with a crooked smirk; both men look like they’ve undoubtedly been in countless fights with the many tiny scars littered around their hands and faces.

“Reina, nice to meet you,” she lied instinctively, offering her hand to shake with the man in burgundy then the one in the gold suit. She did not want her real first name floating around with whoever these guys were friends with. “You two are…?” She waits for the men to share their names.

“Reina? That’s pretty,” the man in burgundy replies, “I’m Akio, and he’s Kaito. We’re Zenin clan muscle.” Of course. Even with all their internal and external issues, the Zenin clan deals in weapons and has continued to rank 3rd for over 20 years now. Their sheer brutality is undoubtedly a big reason behind it.

Kaito lifts Riku’s hand to his mouth to kiss, instead of shaking it.

Literally kill me right now. Riku thinks to herself, continuing to feign a smile, “Haha, thank you…”

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing all by herself?” Kaito steps closer, both men towering over Riku as she’s still sitting and they’re pretty tall, themselves.

“Just waiting on my family, and bodyguard to sit down.” Riku emphasizes the last part, but the men pay no mind. They were far too busy raking their all-too-conspicuous eyes over every inch of her body. This is what Riku dreads about these kinds of functions. She glances over to where she last saw Nanami, but he’s still drinking with Geto. What do we even pay him for?

“Right,” Akio dismisses Riku’s words with his tone, breaking his gaze with her to glance over at the table; he spots the big number ’10,’ “Ten… that’s the Ozaki family this year – right, Kai?’

“Mhm.” Kaito nods affirmatively, “Who knew they had girls like this in the Ozaki family?”

“Hard to tell when they’ve never ranked under 10 before.” Akio says, and the two man laugh. “Can’t even see if they’re ugly or not, since they’re so damn far from our tables at the front of the ballroom!” He adds and their laughter turns into an all-out guffaw.

Riku’s fake smile quickly falters into a glare, “Well at least I’m not in the same family as you incestuous, murder-loving motherfuckers with dicks for brains. What’s wrong? Got tired of keeping it in the family and wanna hit on me? What will your sister-wives think?” Riku mocks, boldly. The whole ‘keeping it in the bloodline’ thing is more of a yakuza rumor, but Riku knows how much Zenin folks hate hearing it.

The men’s laughter comes to an immediate halt. Kaito bends over so his face is hardly a few centimeters from Riku’s, and Akio’s knuckles turn white at the tightness of his grasp on Riku’s chair, the wood creaking beneath his strong grip, “The fuck did you say, bitch?” Kaito questions, nearly spitting the words at her.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not afraid to teach a low rank cunt a lesson, even if she is yakuza.” Akio says, still standing up straight but glaring down at Riku, “Might even be fun, too.” He grins, sickly.

And the danger of the situation doesn’t hit Riku until this very moment. She tries to remain calm and keep her facial expression cool, but it’s more than obvious that she’s completely pissed these Zenin guys off, and she can’t help but fear how they might react.

Once again, her mouth had gotten her into trouble. Oops.

“Hey gentlemen, why don’t we keep things respectful and give the lady some space, hm?” A new voice enters their conversation, one Riku had only heard at a distance. It’s an unmistakable one.

Satoru Gojo placed his hands on the backs of the two Zenin men, and they’re ripped out of their anger-ridden trance at the sight of the white-haired man. He wears a royal blue, fitted 3-piece suit that is perfectly tailored to his tall and toned body. Small black spectacles sit low on the bridge of his nose so his cerulean eyes peek through.

The Zenin men back away, “Whatever,” Kaito mutters, shaking his head. Nobody wanted to fight Satoru Gojo. And now was not the time nor place.

Akio starts to walk away from the table with his friend by his side, “Better pray we don’t catch you alone again…” he taunts.

“Or what?” Gojo asks honestly with a dangerous glint in his eye. Riku’s pulse thumps loudly in her head when she feels the light pressure of his large hand on her shoulder.

Akio shakes his head, “Nothin’.” And the men depart to another section of the ballroom.

Gojo waits until the men are at a distance before focusing his attention to Riku.

“You good?” He takes his hand off her shoulder.

“Yeah.” Riku quickly collects herself, regaining her composure. She clears her throat, “I mean I had that covered, but thanks.”

Gojo blinks down at Riku a few times in complete silence, then suddenly bursts into laughter.

Riku feels her cheeks redden. It was that obvious she was in trouble?

When Gojo recovers from his fit of laughter, he taps Riku’s shoulder, “But seriously, beautiful, you should be more careful about what you say to these guys – sick as most of ‘em are.” Gojo suddenly drops into a squat so that he and Riku are nearly at eye level, his gaze just below hers, “What’s your name?”

The sudden proximity to Gojo makes her stagger over her words, “Reina.” Riku isn’t sure why she lies this time, perhaps out of nervous instinct?

“Reina, right.” Gojo briefly furrows his brows, “Ozaki family so you help handle the arts businesses in our city, right?”

“Yep. And you are…?” Riku asks, stretching her arm in Gojo’s direction and obviously acting as a sort of jab at Gojo. Everyone here knew who Gojo was, regardless if they’d met him personally or not. But something about his cool and confident nature makes Riku want to take him down a few notches.

“Satoru Gojo,” he chuckles out before lightly squeezing her hand, “well, if you need anything tonight, come find me, alright?” He continues to hold eye contact with Riku while he lightly flicks the name card in front of her that clearly displays her real name, “Nice to meet you, Riku Ozaki.” He winks at her, then stands before striding off towards the opposite side of the room and continuing to greet yakuza.

Riku puts her face into her hands, “I’m a fucking idiot.”

Just then the waitress reappears with Riku’s old fashioned and sets it down on the table, “Everything alright, ma’am?”

“Just perfect.”

Riku uses her fork to gently fiddle with the shrimp pasta she’d selected from the three gala menu options; it was okay, just not very flavorful. She sits beside her Aunt Risako - who’s Uncle Jin’s wife and cousin Umika’s mom. Nanami sat on the other side of her.

“You’re not going to eat?” Aunt Risako asks, cutting into her ribeye steak, “It’s good!” She smiled over at her niece, her short brown bob framing her face.

The room had finally quieted down as countless members from the 15 Tokyo families sat around their respective tables, talking, eating, and drinking between various gala speeches. Riku mirrors her aunts smile in return, “I will in a bit, just not that hungry now.”

Uncle Jin had already presented his talk about the recent venues our family had acquired and how it continues to increase our family’s income and contribution in an exponential way, but most of the families chatted through; they were far more interested in the Zenin’s talk about weapons or the Geto family’s speech about their drugs. No one cared about the arts much until it came time for entertainment.

A trio of spinning poles had been set up on the stage and Riku watches as three women pole dancers in elaborately lacy, tight costumes stroll out to dance their practiced routine. Riku recalls two of the girls’ faces, remembering that she’s she stood in to teach a handful of classes at their family’s dance studio a couple of times. Regardless, many of the men flock towards the stage to get a closer look, gawk at, and throw bills at the girls. It makes Riku want to step out for a moment. They’re not strippers, they’re pole dancers. There’s a big difference.

She pushes her chair a bit away from the table before standing and retrieving her clutch.

“Where you going?” Nanami asked, currently taking a bite of salmon.

“Bathroom.” Riku says, already waking back towards the ballroom entrance where the powder rooms and restrooms were. Riku is about to enter one but spots a more secluded bar that appears to be in a side room. She slides through the half open door’s small opening, which reveals a small yet extravagant lounge room and spread of countertop, a collection of old and expensive bottles on display behind the bar. There are only five yakuza inside and one single staff behind the bar, and this puts Riku’s mind at ease as she was happy to be away from the noise. She sits down on one of the leather bar stools, surprised by how comfy it was.

“Anything for you, ma’am?” The man behind the counter asks, wiping a class with a white rag.

Riku is already five drinks in, having had three glasses of champagne and two old fashioneds… She decides to tone it down a bit as her face was already beginning to feel warm, “Do you have a… sparkling chenin blanc by chance?”

“We do.” He smiles, “Loire Valley and all. Want to give it a try?”

“Yes, please.”

The man nods and starts to retrieve a bottle from a refrigerated shelf that’s still somehow covered in a thin sheet of dust; Riku doesn’t want to think about how expensive it is.

“Rare grape.”

Riku only notices the man behind her when he speaks up, her heart jumping in surprise when she turns to see the other half of the duo she did not want to be around tonight.

“Rare, yes, but amazing when you find a good bottle.” Riku is glad she has a few drinks in her, as her reply definitely wouldn’t have been as calm without them.

Suguru Geto plops down on the seat beside Riku, eyes holding hers as he does so. He wears a deep red shirt and a gray suit that was nearly black, his suit jacket tossed on the bar stool on the opposite side of him to reveal the red dress shirt that’s fabric is rolled up to reveal his sleeves of colorful dragon tattoos beneath which stretch all the way up to his neck. His hands were clothed in black leather gloves, “You’re right about that.” He agrees, lips curing in a small smirk as his small black eyes seemed to smile at her, “What are you doing in here?” He questions. Geto quickly diverts his attention to the bartender and taps his glass for a refill of whatever whiskey he’s drinking.

“Just needed a breather.”

Geto eyes quickly dart around around the room before refocusing on Riku, “You got a bodyguard?”

Riku rubs her fingers over the stem of her wine glass when it’s placed in front of her, “Yes.” She sighs out, “But I can handle myself.”

Geto chuckles at Riku’s response, not expecting her to be so offended by the question, “Just looking out for you, sweetheart. This is a dangerous place.” He takes a closer look at her, before raising a brow, “Ozaki family, right?”

Riku’s eyes widen in genuine surprise by the fact that he knows, sure they hadn’t personally met before, “Yeah… how’d you know?”

He lifts a finger from his glass to poke in her direction as the bartender refills it, “Your posture. I know a dancer’s body when I see one.” He takes a swig after his glass is topped off.

Riku isn’t sure why Geto’s words make her blush, but they do. She takes a sip of wine to hide it.

“What’s your name?”

She doesn’t dare lie again, “Riku.”

“What characters do you use?”

“Dignity, or awe-inspiring for the ‘Ri’ and sky for the ‘ku.’”

“That’s fitting. You’re gorgeous.” Geto’s smirk grows, but only for a moment. His smile softens as he leans over, closing a lot of the space between them. Riku is sort of startled by how intimate the other is able to make something as trivial as a greeting. Geto pokes his hand in her direction, the words spilling so soft and kindly from his mouth that they truly feel like a compliment, “Very nice to meet you, Riku. Call me Suguru.” Geto’s long black hair falls over his shoulder and Riku gets a whiff of his cologne. Of course, he smells great.

“Nice to meet you, Suguru.” Riku slowly shakes Geto’s hand, internally screaming. She could not take being so close to the drug clan’s leader for this long. Though it was just a greeting, her heart was doing backflips out of surprise, attraction, fear…? She’s unsure of which one; perhaps all three. First Gojo, now him?

“Tell me about yours-” Geto starts, but both of their thoughts are silenced by the sound of an automatic gun shooting into the air of the main ballroom.

Their eyes widen, and Riku is frozen in her seat with fear. Through the small opening of the door, she’s able to spot suited men with rifles enter the ballroom en masse, the whole room beginning to stir with yells and screams. The thunder of a hundred footsteps sounds as yakuza leaders, wives, and their adult children trample towards the main doors.

Before she realizes it, Geto is already at the side of the door in a safe position. He retrieves his handgun from his waistband and holds it expertly between his hands, ready to shoot anything or anyone that may enter the side room they were in.

The bartender and few other folks in the room had already fled, leaving just the two of them.

“You need to get out of here gorgeous.” Geto says, nodding towards the exit opposite to the door he currently stands by – that leads to the great ballroom where gunshots continuously sound. Riku is still frozen.

“Riku? Riku!” When she snaps out of her daze, Geto is at her side, her arm in his tight grasp, “I said you need to get out of here!” He shouts over the screams and shots in the ballroom. Wasn’t this supposed to be a weaponless event?!

“B-But my family!!”

“You better hope your bodyguard is protecting them,” He begins, but is cut off when two men notably from the Zenin clan appear, guns raised in Geto’s direction.

Geto doesn’t hesitate, using one hand to move Riku behind his back to shield her and the other to quickly shoot down the two men, hitting one in the hand and the other in his abdomen.

Riku watches in horror as their blood begins to spread over the marble floor, the color draining from her face.

“Zenin clan? What the fuck…?” Geto trails off in thought, not scared like Riku but equally astonished by this recent turn of events.

The two of them are both alarmed when Gojo barges through a third door Riku didn’t notice before, the white-haired man’s black spectacles now gone and his suit a bit disheveled – most likely from fighting.

His piercing blue eyes dart to Riku in confusion, “You…?” He shakes the distraction from his head before looking over at his friend, breathing heavily from previously running.

“The fuck is going on, Satoru??!”

“It’s Toji. Toji and a bunch of muscle from the Zenin clan are staring an uprising.” He walks closer to his friend and Riku, who’s still tucked behind his Geto’s back.

“Fuck.” Geto releases Riku to roughly run a hand through his hair.

“The hell are you doing here?!” Gojo peers down at Riku in confusion, anger, and concern, but mostly anger, “Your family’s already outside!”

Riku was relieved to at least hear that and opens her mouth, about to explain herself; Geto cuts her off, “We need to get her the fuck out of here.” He says, surprisingly calm.

Gojo releases an exasperated sigh, shaking his head and looking at Riku in a pissed sort of way that explains everything he isn’t saying: that she would slow them down, “Jesus Christ, beautiful, you sure are fucking good at getting your ass into trouble.” He grabs her arm, pulling her into his side before starting to make his way towards the 3rd door he’d just entered through that leads to a connecting meeting space.

Gojo and Geto are on high alert as they maneuver though the space, stopping behind tables and desks to occasionally scan the room for any hidden intruders. When a bald man in a bright orange suit enters, Gojo tosses Riku into Geto, and she yelps. Geto’s thick tattooed arm locks around her waist and pulls her into him as his friend handles the bald man with a few powerful punches and a harsh kick to his side. The man falls to the floor, immediately falling unconscious.

This continues through a series of connecting rooms, Riku practically being thrown between Gojo and Geto as they punched and shot their way through the mansion, most likely aiming for the building’s back exit. Geto feels Riku’s body tremble with fear one of the times he’s holding her and can’t help but feel for her. It’s obvious she isn’t used to this kind of violence and if this is what it means to be a member of one of the higher ranked families, then Riku wants no parts of it.

“Don’t worry, babe. We got you.” He tries to reassure her, briefly squeezing the arm he had wrapped around her waist while Gojo took out a duo of men in black suits.

Riku vaguely feels her phone vibrate from inside her clutch but it’s the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. She looks up at Geto, who’s eyes were still scanning the room. Riku could tell the soft smile on his lips was directed to her and nodded.

Suddenly, a side door busts open with a loud bang and five men pour in with guns drawn.

“Shit, beautiful, maybe not…” Suguru says so only Riku can hear.

“Everyone, hands up!” One of the armed men shout, pointing his gun in the direction of Gojo, who pushes his arms into the air in mock surrender.

“Hey, now, why don’t we settle this the old-fashioned way?” He asks with a smirk, as he was currently unarmed.

“Fuck you, Gojo.” The main man says, ignoring Satoru’s offer as fighting the strongest yakuza in Tokyo hand-to-hand was basically the same thing as letting him win, “Keep your hands up.”

Three of the men point their guns in Geto and Riku’s direction, “You two, too! Drop the gun, Geto!”

Geto does as the men say, allowing the silver handgun to thump to the floor before pushing his hands in the air. Riku follows suit, swiftly hiding her phone between her breasts before discarding her clutch altogether and raising her hands in the air.

“Out!” The fifth man commands, motioning with his gun for the three of them to exit the room and return to the main banquet hall.

The three of them slowly trail out and are led through the now completely abandoned ballroom - except for the five Zenin muscle that brought them here and one other man. Riku can tell the man is ripped just from his broad back alone. He turns and Riku sees the man she’d only heard rumors about prior to this moment.

A wicked grin spreads across his face at the sight of Gojo and Geto, and he starts to laugh, smile curving the large gash-like scar at the corner of his mouth. Toji. The undoubtedly powerful man wore a black suit like the bulk of his men, but it was visibly far more expensive than the rest. The tailored clothing just barely contained the thickness of his muscled form.

“Ah, just the people I’ve been meaning to see.”

“Awful to see you too, asshole.” Gojo replies with a smirk.

“What the fuck do you want now, Toji?” Geto asks, a look of disgust on his face. Guns still pointed at them so the three kept their hands raised.

“Well money of course, for one, but before that,” his eyes move to Riku. He walks over to her, a lustful, downright disgusting look in his eyes, “who do we have here?” He smooths his calloused, scar-littered fingers under Riku’s chin, trailing them down to her chest. She tries to push the man away, but he quickly grabs both her wrists in one of his hands, smirk only growing as Riku scowled up at the tall, bulky man.

“She’s no one,” Satoru starts, trying to protect her, “just a low rank clan family member. This isn’t about her.”

“Hey, fuck you, I’m not no one…” Riku starts, only realizing what Gojo was trying to do after the words slip from her lips. Her eyes widen.

Toji laughs again, closing the space between the two of them, “I like this one… She’s got some spunk to her.” Toji glances to Gojo and Geto with an evil look, “Would be fun to break her.”

“Toji you-” Gojo begins to move but freezes to the click of a handgun being loaded beside his ear.

“Whoa there, careful! Wouldn’t want to lose your brains now, would you?” Toji shouts, tone both overdramatic and disgusting, “Now, back to you, pretty…” He returns his gaze to Riku. Even if she’s no one to Gojo and Geto, Toji likes fucking with the duo’s sense of justice and knows they’d try to protect her regardless, “What’s your name?”

Riku spits in his face before responding, “None of your fucking business, prick.” She grumbles in anger, attitude as bad as ever. A small, satisfied smirk finds her lips as she watches her spit roll down Toji’s scarred face.

Geto exchanges looks with his friend, his exasperated expression saying everything words didn’t need to: Is this bitch crazy? Spitting at Toji??!

Toji’s grin turns into an unsatisfied look, clicking his tongue at Riku’s actions, “Now that’s not the answer I was looking for…” He shakes his head, removing his trailing fingers from Riku’s body before brutally smacking his palm over Riku’s cheek with a hard thump.

Riku’s head twists to the side, and she immediately begins to taste blood in her mouth as it is, without question, the strongest slap she’s ever received in her life. Pain jolts in the bones of her neck and she already begins to feel the skin of her face bruise and swell.

Toji grabs Riku’s face, and she feels like he could crush her skull in his hand if he wanted to. A tear streams down her swollen check at the intense pain. The man with spiky black hair repeats himself, an angered look in his eyes in response to Riku’s disrespectful action, “Your name.” He demands.

“Ymvr…” Riku mutters, barely able to speak with Toji’s grip on her jaw.

“What was that?” He leans in closer to the girl with a smirk as she writhes in pain, ear pushing closer to her lips.

“Your mother.” She finally manages, using Toji’s grip on her hands to steady herself as she quickly raises her legs, the bulky man now unintentionally holding her weight in the air as she swiftly sends the strongest kick she can manage to his balls.

“Agh!!” Toji’s face twists and he yells in agony, both him and Riku collapsing to the floor.

Gojo and Geto exchange looks again, both using the surprise of this situation as an opportunity to take out the two men directly behind each of them, first twisting and jabbing their arms to steal their guns away. They quickly make work of the rest of the five men, shooting some in non-vital places and kicking others.

All the while, Toji is groaning from the floor, “You bitch…!” He spits between clenched teeth, hands cupping his crotch.

Riku stumbles to her feet, abandoning her one remaining high heel before making a dash for the back door, “Coming?” She questions as she quickly breezes past Gojo and Geto, who had just finished kicking the last of the Zenin muscle.

“Yeah, let’s get the fuck outta here.” Gojo says with a final kick, and the two run out the door behind Riku.

“Uhh, car?!” Riku half asks, half yells once they’re outside, praying one of the two men had one nearby.

“Mhm, this way,” The dark of the night sky temporarily camouflages the men outside of Geto’s red shirt and Gojo’s white hair, that is, until Riku’s eyes adjust. Gojo reaches forward, “Matter of fact…” he grabs Riku’s waist and throws her over his shoulder, already beginning to move in an all-out sprint.

Riku yelps at suddenly being manhandled, now only able to see the white of Geto’s smirk as he ran behind Gojo. He thought this was funny?!

“What are you doing?!” She whisper-yells.

“Sorry, babe, easier to move this way.” Gojo gives the back of Riku’s thigh a small smack, that makes her face turn bright red with embarrassment.

Geto tries to hold back a laugh but fails after seeing the look on Riku’s face.

Finally they arrive at a large garage and Gojo hits a code into a keypad at the side of the building, Riku still over his shoulder. The door slowly rises off the ground and they slip in, Gojo grabbing the keys to his Lamborghini Urus before unlocking the doors.

Riku is thrown into the back seat and before she can get her bearings together, the engine is starting and the SUV wheels screech forward from a halt and out of the driveway.

Geto looks back at Riku from the passenger seat, “Buckle up, Riku, this guy’s a shit driver.” He smirks.

“That’s not true, I’m a great driver. Especially in these conditions—“ Gojo says with a sharp turn of the wheel and suddenly they’re speeding through the grass of the courtyard. Riku hears a few gunshots sound in the distance and buckles up before putting her head down. There's the yelling of a few Zenin clan men and the gunshots continue, a few bullets even piercing the back of the window, but none pass through.

Gojo chuckles when he quickly glances at Riku in the rear-view window, “It’s bulletproof, babe.” He explains, then takes another sharp turn to a roughly 400-meter-long driveway that leads to the main road.

Riku slowly sits up, worriedly looking out each of the windows before seeing that they were finally at a good enough distance from the Gojo estate. She takes a shaky, deep breath to calm herself down, almost wanting to cry at everything that had just transpired.

“Hey,” Geto’s tattooed arm reaches back, and he brushes his leather-covered thumb over Riku’s swollen red cheek, “You alright, beautiful?”

She looks up at him, the fear finally beginning to fade from her eyes. She’s safe with them. Riku nods, shakily.

“What a night!” Gojo laughs, “I mean who the fuck was expecting that?”

“Right?” Geto grins at his friend.

Riku furrows her bows, “You both think it’s funny? All those people hurt and in danger?!”

Gojo’s smile fades, “Oh no, that? That was absolutely fucked up… Also you don’t think I’m upset they pulled that shit in my house?” He switches from anger to charm so quick it’s almost scary, “But come on, Riku, that ‘your mother’ line was fucking priceless and you know it.” Gojo smirks again.

Geto laughs, still looking back at her from the front passenger seat, “You’re a legend, Riku. I don’t know how many people living can say they kicked Toji in the balls.”

Gojo laughs but his hand grips the gearshift so hard that his knuckles are white. He isn’t kidding; Riku understands that Gojo is probably the angriest yakuza in Tokyo tonight.

Riku joins in on their laughter with a small giggle, trying to ease the mood.

Geto turns back around to face the front but squeezes Riku’s thigh before looking to his friend, “Satoru, let’s get her some ice and take her home.”

“Yeah,” Gojo agrees and adjusts his mirror to get a better look at Riku, “fucked to see a pretty face bruised up like that.” He pauses, thinking for a moment, “You hungry at all, beautiful?”

“Starving.” Riku admits, regretting not having eaten her meal at the gala.

“Good, ‘cause I know a place and got a few calls to make.”

Geto looks at his friend knowingly, “You need some of my men?”

Gojo shakes his head and lowers his tone, giving Geto a hard look, “Not in front of her. She’s already in the mix of things enough as it is.”

Geto nods.

Gojo raises his voice again, “We’ll take you to one of our favorite spo-"

He’s cut off by Riku’s phone that loudly vibrates in her chest. She’d forgotten it was there. Riku retrieves the iPhone from inside her bra and sees ‘NANAMI’ flash across the screen. She quickly slides her finger across to talk. Before she can say anything—

“Riku! Fuck, finally!! Where are you?!!” He yells through the line.

“Nanami, I’m good, I’m fine… I’m in the car with Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo.”

“You’re what!?”

“It’s fine! They’re going to take me home, okay?”

“Is that Nanamin? Tell him I say hi!” Gojo happily beams, shouting from the driver’s seat.

Apparently Nanami hears that because he groans, “Jeez, Ri, what the hell happened?!”

Riku sighs, “A lot. But the gist is… Toji slapped me in the face, I kicked him in the balls, and we got away.”

“You WHAT??!?!!”

Riku laughs awkwardly, “But we got away and things are fine for now. They’re gonna take me home after we stop and get some ice for my face.”

Nanami is silent for a moment, and Riku can sense his anger through the phone, “Put Satoru on the phone, right fucking now.”

Riku hands her iPhone to Gojo, who quickly takes it and answers with a bright, bubbly tone, “Nanamin! How are you?”

“Look. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, or what business you have to do to clean this shit up, but if Riku comes back here tonight with anything more than a bruised cheek, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Gojo smiles at the seriousness in Nanami’s tone, “Wow, Kento, I didn’t know you cared about your job so much… What are you in love with her or something?” Gojo grins over at Geto in the passenger seat, “Yeah, yeah, Riku delivery service is on the way.” He glances back at her for a moment before refocusing on the road, “We won’t let anything happen to her. But you know, it’s the fault of her smart-ass mouth that made Toji slap her, anyways.” He shrugs.

“…That unfortunately sounds about right.”

“Well, okay, Nanamin! You’re kind of breaking up,” Gojo shouts, turning up the music from the car stereo as he held the phone between his head and shoulder, “so, talk to ya later!” Once he’s finished increasing the volume to near-max levels, Gojo retrieves the phone once more and hits ‘end’ on the call before tossing it back to Riku, who swiftly clasps it between her two hands.

Riku rolls her eyes and sits back into her seat, knowing she was in for a wild ride in more ways than one.

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