#gojo/reader

[luvvcho]

❅・WHISPER OF THE HEART

SYNOPSIS — The three times he tries to tell you, and the one time he actually does.

WC — (2.3k)

CONTENT: SFW, angst (if you squint), hurt/comfort, family issues/neglect (gojo's family is lowkey awful), idk how to make these erm

a/n: hai ^.^ so i lowkey haven’t written since 2021, so pls bear with me as i get back into writing again! also, i’m looking for a beta reader! if you’re interested, you can reach out to me :p m. list | next >

Tokyo, Japan 2005

Gojo's eyes stung from trying to keep a tear or two from rolling down his cheek. He tilted his head slightly, blinking fast as if that might stop them from falling and hoping you wouldn't notice.“They won’t let me in,” he muttered, stepping away from the towering gate of his family’s estate. His voice was light, almost casual if not for the way it cracked at the edges. “Dad’s pissed I missed my English lesson, so I guess I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

Your brows knit together. In the two years you’d known him, you never quite understood how his family worked, only that they were wealthy, controlling, and conditional in their affection. As long as he played the part they expected, they gave him everything. The moment he strayed, even slightly, they turned their backs, and just like every other time, he ended up on either your doorstep or Suguru’s.

His head hung low, but his arm still found its way around your shoulders, pulling you along as he walked away from the gate. You caught a glimpse of his mother in the upstairs window, standing in the supposed warmth of their grand home, watching her son disappear down the street. You opened your mouth to say something, but what was there to say? Instead, you swallowed it down. “Where are we going?”

“Payphone,” he sighed. “Mine’s dead. Gotta ask Suguru if I can crash at his place again.”

Again. This happened too often.

“Stay at mine,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. “It’s my fault you’re home late anyway.”

Gojo glanced at his watch, the golden arms pointing to 6:30. Seven hours ago, he had been standing in front of your teacher, voice sharp, unwavering, as he tore into them for lecturing you about the length of your uniform skirt. You had both landed in after-school detention, but if given the chance, you knew he’d do it all over again.

He shook his head. “Nah. Zenin’s an asshole.”

His dismissal was instant, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers curled just slightly around your shoulder, holding on.You both rounded the corner in silence, leaving behind the towering homes and pristine streets of the Gojos’ gated community. 

The cold late-November air bit at your skin, and you tugged your jacket higher, burying the lower half of your face into the fabric. Your mind was surprisingly empty; no lingering thoughts about his family, no plan for what came next. Just the rhythmic sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Unbeknownst to you, the boy beside you was drowning in his thoughts. A million miles a minute, his brain ran wild, tripping over itself. Not about his father slamming the door in his face, not about the house staff refusing him entry, and not about how ridiculously messed up it was that having to sleep somewhere else didn’t even surprise him anymore.

His thoughts fixated on something far more immediate… his arm. His arm which was slung so casually around your shoulders, holding you close against the cold.

He hadn’t even realized it at first. The motion had been instinctual, natural, like muscle memory. But now, the weight of it pressed against him like a revelation.

He had his arm around you.

Sure, you were close. Friends, obviously. Best friends, maybe. But never in a million years did he think he’d be standing like this, side by side, your body tucked under his as if it was second nature. He couldn’t help but think you fit into him perfectly, as if you were meant to be there.

If he looked down, really looked, he’d notice everything he’d been unconsciously curious about since the day he met you. The way your hair caught the dim glow of the streetlights, the way your breath fogged up in the cold, the way your fingers curled into your sleeves for warmth.

And suddenly, his jacket felt way too hot. His grip flexed slightly on your shoulder, fingers twitching before he forced them to still.

This was stupid. Ridiculous. He was Gojo Satoru, for god’s sake. He had girls throwing themselves at him all the time. Not that he ever really cared. But standing here, his heart thudding a little too loud, a little too fast, over something as simple as having his arm around you?

He was so screwed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, snapping him out of whatever strange, faraway thoughts had him so quiet. It wasn’t like Gojo to be this silent. If anything, you were more accustomed to telling him to shut up rather than coaxing words out of him, so it didn’t take long for you to notice something was on his mind.

His head jerks up slightly, caught off guard. “Uh…talk about what?”

You give him a look. He knows exactly what. And when realization flickers across his face, his expression shifts instantly.

“Ohh,” he drawls, lips curling into a smirk. “Are you worried about me? How endearing, I didn’t know you cared about me so much.”

And just like that, he’s back.

“Satoru,” you warn, pulling away from him.

He instantly regrets teasing when the warmth of your body leaves his side. Cold air rushes in between you, and even though it should be a relief, his body still feels uncomfortably warm. But he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his expression even, pretending it’s no big deal

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” you remind him, stepping forward to walk ahead.

He nods, though he doesn’t say anything.

The truth is he doesn’t want to talk about his family. He doesn’t want to talk about how easily they push him away, how conditional their love is, how the weight of their expectations feels like a noose around his neck. His family already has a say in every part of his life, in who he is, in who he’s allowed to be. Hell, he wouldn’t have even met Suguru if it weren’t for them. You were the only thing they hadn’t touched and he refuses to let them ruin you, too.

So silence settles between you. You’re waiting for him to speak, patient as always, but the words never come.

A few minutes pass, the payphone comes and goes behind you, and the scenery transitions from the suburbs into a less wealthy part of Tokyo.

It’s only when the glow of streetlights stretches further down the road that Gojo suddenly speaks again, voice lighter, teasing. “Say it again.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“My name,” he grins, this time not hiding the way he tilts his head slightly toward you, playful curiosity glinting in his blue eyes. “Say it again.”

You sigh, giving him a small shove with your shoulder. “Stop being weird. Why should I?”

“I like when you say my name.”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s a really weird thing to like.”

He gasps dramatically, pressing a hand over his chest as if you’d just personally offended him. “Don’t make fun of my interests, you wound me!”

A small laugh escapes you despite yourself. “You’re so annoying.”

But you’re smiling, and you notice that Gojo, for some reason, can’t stop staring at you.

The teasing back-and-forth continues, playful insults exchanged between you until you both break into giggles. He plays up his grievous injury by clutching his heart, stumbling as if he’s been struck by your cruel words.

And then—

“Oh, Satoru.”

His head snaps up.

The way you say his name makes something in him trip over itself, and it almost manifests into his exterior world as he stumbles over his own foot.

His first thought is that you’re about to say something important. Something meaningful, something that might make his pulse pick up for reasons he doesn’t yet want to think about.

But then you tilt your head back down the street.

“We passed the payphone a few blocks ago.”

Gojo blinks, momentarily dumbfounded, before breaking into a grin. “Aww, you said my name.”

You groan. “Shut up.”

He hums, pretending to think. “So… do you wanna turn back?”

“Obviously.”

“Why?” he shrugs, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought I was staying with you.”

You open your mouth, then pause. The easy confidence in his voice makes it sound like it was always going to be that way, like it was never even a question in his mind.

“…You sure?” you ask, hesitant now. “I was just kidding earlier. I mean Suguru’s place is closer, and my family might not be home—”

Gojo shrugs. “His parents are family friends. It might not be wise to go there. Plus I like your place better”

It’s simple. It’s honest.

It’s enough to make you roll your eyes and keep walking, but you don’t argue.

Gojo lets himself fall back in step with you, brushing against your side again, this time without wrapping his arm around you. His hands are cold, but the warmth from earlier still lingers.

It was much darker now than when you had left Gojo’s place. If not for the streetlights and the bright glow of the business signs overhead, the night might as well have been pitch black.

A block from your house, the neon light of a convenience store caught your attention. You tugged lightly on Gojp’s sleeve.

“Let’s grab something to eat.”

Gojo hummed in agreement, following you inside. The store was small, the aisles packed tight, and the fluorescent lights buzzed softly above. You made a beeline for the instant ramen section, scanning the shelves.

“What’s the move?” he asked, casually resting his chin on your shoulder from behind.

You stilled at his closeness, your face heating in response.

“Spicy miso,” you said, grabbing two cups. “Unless you wanna cry over beef-flavored sadness.”

He chuckled. “Oh, bold of you to assume I won’t cry anyway.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved the cups into his chest. He caught them easily, grinning as he walked toward the register. You followed, digging in your bag for your wallet, but before you could pull it out, Gojo stopped you with one hand and swiped his card with the other.

“Satoru,” you whined.

“You’re letting me stay the night. The least I can do is buy us dinner.”

You opened your mouth to protest but hesitated when you realized his hands were still on yours. The warmth of his touch lingered a little too long. Before he could notice the scarlet creeping up your neck, you turned away.

“Whatever. I need some air,” you muttered, stepping outside.

Moments later, Gojo followed with two steaming cups of ramen in hand, the convenience store door chiming as he walked through. He settled beside you on the curb, letting the cold night air cool the broth. You both take your first bite.

Gojo nudged his foot against yours. “Y’know, you didn’t have to offer me a place to stay.”

“I know.” You took a careful sip of your broth. “But I did.”

He stared down at his ramen, idly swirling the noodles with his chopsticks. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, rounding out the sharp edges, making the sharp angles of his jawline softer, less untouchable.

You’d always heard girls at school talk about how perfect he was: his looks, his charm, the effortless way he carried himself. But you had never really seen it before. Not like this. Not until now, in the quiet glow of the streetlamp, with the world stripped of its noise.

You were not going to catch feelings for Gojo Satoru. You looked away, shoving the thought aside and focusing back on your food, until something caught your eye.

Tiny white flecks drifted down from the sky, vanishing the moment they met the pavement.

“Satoru, look!” you said, turning back to him, excitement bubbling in your voice. “It’s snowing.”

Gojo lifted his gaze, watching the flurries dance under the streetlights. And then, when he looked back down at you, something in him shifted.

The snow dusted your lashes, melting with every blink, your cheeks were tinged pink (not just from the cold but from being flustered earlier, but this he did not know). And, oh, how he wished he could just tell you how beautiful you were. “Pretty,” he said, quietly. “The snow, I mean.”

You reached up, brushing a few flakes from his hair, laughing softly. “It matches your hair.”

And suddenly, he wanted to say it.

In fact, this was the part where he was supposed to say it.

That you made him feel like home, even when he didn’t have one. That you were the only person who had ever wanted to get to know him. Not his last name, not his status, just him. That he didn’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, his heart had stopped being his own. That standing next to you, sharing cheap convenience store ramen, in fact doing anything with you, felt more like belonging than anything he’d ever known.

His lips parted.

He whispered your name.

“Mhm?” You looked up at him mid-bite, noodles hanging from your lips.

I love you. I’m in love with you.

But the words get caught in his throat.

He let out a breath, setting his cup down beside him. “You, uh… got something in your teeth.”

You blinked. “Huh? Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Right there.”

You ran your tongue over your teeth before flashing him a grin. “Got it?”

He stared for a moment longer than necessary, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he glanced away. “Yeah. You got it.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Satoru. You’re a good friend.”

He exhaled softly, resting his head atop yours.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Friend. You too.”

And for now, that was enough.

the plot for this has been fully thought out, and i’ll do my best to get the next 3 chapters done as soon as possible, but i am a student and pretty busy.

pls do not copy, repost, or claim my work as your own :) if you have any issues with what i wrote or noticed any mistakes, let me know privately. thank you for reading <3

[megvmins]

COLD HANDS and JJK men solutions

Grabs your hands and shove them under his shirt, pulls you closer and tells you that you can feel him up since he runs hot, no other reason

- GOJO, TOJI, itadori, aoi

Takes your hands into his own and blows on them, massaging the warmth into them

- NANAMI, megumi, GETO, toge, choso

Has hot packs ready because he tends to get cold or just anticipates that someone will be in need of them later on

- toge, NANAMI, noritoshi, mechamaru (kokichi)

[sweet-evie]

Listen listen! 😭

Husband!Gojo hitting on a shy S/O in public FOR FUN.

He's so fucking embarrassing, but endearing at the same time.

He's opening doors for them and Husband!Gojo just keeps complimenting them on how good they look.

Walking with him in public, and Husband!Gojo just hits them with a flirty whistle or cat calls them when they're off doing something, like picking out stuff to buy or window shopping.

Husband!Gojo has the most outrageous, borderline explicit, innuendos and pick-up lines that he says LOUDLY.

Honks at them when he's in the car, like, "Hey sexy, I'm going to park the car!"

Walking through the mall and randomly he's like, "You're so hot. You're the hottest thing. Look at you! Just look at you, damn."

Calling out to his S/O when they meet up after shopping separately like, "Hey, sexy. You're looking fine!"

Standing in line at a pastry shop or café and he's telling them, "All these cakes, and I only see two that I really want," while staring at his S/O's behind over the rims of his dark sunglasses.

They're at the groceries in the produce section with other shoppers, and Husband!Gojo is like, "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber."

Hitting on them while they're shopping for clothes at a department store, and he comes up to them with his own cart, pretending to be a stranger going, "You know what you'd look beautiful in? My arms."

His flirting gets so out of hand that one time, a random person noticed and actually asked the S/O if they're okay and if 'this white-haired weirdo' is making them uncomfortable. And Husband!Gojo is just there with the cockiest grin spread across his face, trying not to burst out laughing.

Embarrassed thoroughly, but also feeling really giddy from Husband!Gojo's blatant show of affection, S/O tells the stranger, "Thank you... It's okay. My husband is just loud."

Strangers who hear Husband!Gojo's verbal PDA either give side-eye or notice the flashy diamond ring on S/O's fourth finger, and the thick matching platinum band, studded with smaller diamonds on Gojo's finger, and they move on.

Because the dork who keeps hitting on this attractive person is actually married.

[hinakazino]

DOLLS OF US || JJK!Men x Reader

Summary: You're a small business owner taking custom crochet-doll requests from people. One of the most popular requests? Couple dolls posing together! But what happens when you get caught having made one of you and your crush?

Some Context: Reader is currently in college and this is basically her well known side hustle to handle debt.

Warnings: None, mainly fluff.

GOJO SATORU

He was honestly snooping around your house, honestly! It wasn't often you both hung out one-on-one nowadays, with the workload in college and career planning, life was stressful. So while you were busy in the bathroom Gojo couldn't help walking about.

It wasn't like he hadn't been in your room before, though, you both mainly stayed in your living room most of the time when he was over. His eyes quickly surveyed the room, it was the same as before. He remembers your cute plushies, your art supplies, your bed, shelf, and overall layout.

Satoru walks in and notices the side of your table, where you often kept crochet pieces that were finished or a work in progress. He snickered at the Shrek piece you were almost done with, he couldn't believe someone actually paid for that. His face quickly turned into curiosity as he spotted a piece on the top of your mini wall shelf.

In your room he always knew you had a shelf pushed against the wall that was situated on part of your table, it was where your finished pieces sat and your unfinished where on the table below. His eyes scanned over the top of your shelf, which held a single piece.

Gojo's eyes widened as he realized it was a piece of you and him. You both had your hands intertwined as if dancing, and he was holding onto the small of your back as you were swaying backwards. Held together with a small wooden stand with a simple support structure.

By the time you'd come out of the bathroom, you'd already seen him missing from the living room, and walking into your bedroom you instantly went quiet. He was playing with your favorite crochet piece, an amused expression on his face.

"Awh~ Do you like me y/n?" Satoru asks, his eyes brimming with excitement as his lips twisted into a smug grin. You blushed in embarrassment, unsure of whether he was just teasing you. "It's-- It's not what you think!! That's not me and it was a commissioned piece, like by--" he cut you off.

Satoru had grabbed you by the wrist and had pulled you towards him, not roughly but enough that you landed on him. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to sit hugging him on his lap, in your bed. You felt your heart beat quicken as his breath softly fanned your ear as he spoke, "you don't have to lie to me, I like ya too you know?"

You sigh and smack him lightly, "ow! what was that for??" he asks. You pull away and stare at him, "for not just saying so, this is really embarrassing ya know?" you mock him. Only to be met with his laughter as he pulls you into another embrace, "let's just stay like this.." he says softly.

CHOSO

Oh Choso always loved you, he was just really afraid to say so. He knew if you rejected him, it'd be the end of your guys friendship, if not then it'd be insanely awkward. He wouldn't be able to handle any of it if it did happen.

He was currently at your house as your tutor, you were both friends of course but he had offered to tutor you in a subject you were struggling on. Despite him swearing that you didn't need to pay him (it was enough for him to be in your presence), you insisted.

Of course, he gave you a discount, but he tried his best to be strict with you when it was lesson time. You guys had just finished a lesson and you had to go out to run a quick errand. "Make yourself at home Cho! I'm going to get some snacks from the store to restock my collection!" you said, giggling as you left.

That left him with his own thoughts as he took his time examining your home. He often wondered what it'd be like to date you, and imagined a future with you in it. As his mind was flooded with thoughts of you he'd decided to peak into your room.

Tutoring was mostly in the living room but it wasn't like he hadn't been in your bedroom before, but this time he wasn't dreamily staring at it like usual. He noticed a crochet piece you had on your bed, which was a bit strange as he knew you were very careful with your work.

What struck him more was as he stepped closer he recognized that one of the dolls looked like him and the other you. His mind was instantly filled with whether you had a crush on him too, was this his calling? Could this be solid proof of now being the correct time to confess his feelings?

He didn't know how long he stood fondling the dolls in his hands, it was very cute, just the both of you holding hands. However, it was long enough that he heard the door click signaling your arrival. He quickly rushed out, posture very tense as you approached him.

"Hey I'm back! Uh- you okay? Did you have dia--" "I saw them," Choso stated, much to your confusion and his it seemed as he struggled to formulate words. "I saw the dolls you made, do you.." he went silent as you nervously confessed.

"Yeah I've had a thing for you for a long time now," you say anxiously as you fiddle your fingers, you don't know what to do. "I understand this may complicate everything between us, if you want to leave it is okay--" you blurt with a mix of fear and embarrassment. "I don't," he responds.

You had your head down, but now find the courage to glance up at him. Only seeing him smile down at you, "I've liked you too, just, never got around saying it," he says scratching his head while looking away. The blush on his cheeks was adorable as he led you to the couch, making sure to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

He is Itadori's older brother, who you know because you're best friends with Itadori. There was a tension between you both at first but it was due to you finding him scary. Not anymore though! You both hang out one-on-one occasionally. It was actually since one time you wanted to watch a really good movie that just came out and no one else was free. Sukuna had heard you begging Itadori to come with you over the phone and decided he'd come instead to prevent your crisis. Sukuna had developed a crush on you then. He loved the way you'd cry for sad movies, your face when you'd eat your favorite sweets, and all the little details about you he's noticed throughout the years.

Today he happened to be picking up some stuff Itadori had forgot at your place. Sukuna sighs, "hey! just came to get some of the brats stuff," he huffed walking into your living room. You smiled at him, "alright! you can get what ya need! you don't have to be so mean to itadori," you say giggling. Sukuna proceeds to go straight to your room as Itadori said that's where his uniform was. He couldn't help thinking what Itadori could've been doing in your room as he quickly snatched his uniform off your chair. Stopping when he spotted two dolls, looking like a crochet couple. It had caught his eye with its pink hair, Sukuna honestly felt horrified about it being itadori but when he grabbed it he was positive it was him. Who else had tattoos like his anyway? He felt relief, soon replaced with a warm bubbly feeling in his heart. It was a sweet piece of him holding your back as you both stood looking out.

He wasn't one to date lightly, but with how long he'd been thinking of you this was literally his time to shine. Perfect how you walked in for the moment too, "Kuna, did you find it?" you asked as you came up to him.

He chose to turn around when he felt you near, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him as he dangled the dolls in front of you. "Wha--" you let out a cry in surprise that soon turned to a nervous silence, your eyes noticing the dolls and then concentrating on his face. "Say, do you like me y/n?" Sukuna asked, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced down at the way you gulped cautiously. The cat was already out of the bag, "yes..." you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes drifted downward as rejection filled your head before staring up back at him as he commanded you to face him.

Sukuna could tell you were on the verge of tears but he didn't want this to be a cruel moment so he softly planted a kiss on your forehead. "Don't cry you idiot, I like you too," he said chuckling as he lightly pinched your cheek.

"Really?" you asked, oh he thought your voice was so cute. "Yeah, I do, and you know I think you should make another set of these dolls," he said as he cupped your face in his hands.

"Why?" you asked, your face being squished by him as he responded, "so I can have my own to keep of course, to remember how cute you are." You felt heat rush to your face from his words, but he only scoffed at how excited you seemed to do it.

© 2023 by Hinakazino, do not translate/edit/claim or use my work in any form.

[sokkaxmoon]

SALVAGE

-Part 1/2

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, filling the silence of your apartment. You stood in the kitchen, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as you stared blankly out the window. It had started raining a few hours ago, a steady, rhythmic downpour that matched the heaviness in your chest. The city outside was shrouded in mist, and the once vibrant skyline now felt distant, cold.

Just like your marriage.

It wasn’t sudden, not really. The distance had been creeping in slowly, like the slow erosion of a shoreline by the sea. At first, it was subtle—missed dinners, late-night missions, Gojo’s ever-present responsibilities as the strongest sorcerer in the world. You had understood. His duty was important, the weight of the world often resting on his shoulders. But over time, it became more than just his duties. It became his absence. Even when he was home, it felt like he was a million miles away.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The apartment was too quiet, too empty, even though he was due back any minute. But you weren’t sure if it even mattered anymore. When he came home, there would be no real conversation, no warmth. Just the same strained pleasantries you had fallen into recently.

You loved Gojo, you always would. But love wasn’t enough anymore. Not when it felt like you were living parallel lives, constantly crossing paths but never really touching.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You straightened, taking a deep breath as you heard the familiar sound of his shoes being kicked off, the rustle of his jacket being tossed carelessly onto the couch. For a moment, you stood frozen, trying to summon the courage for what you knew had to happen.

"Hey," Gojo called out from the entryway, his voice as casual as ever, like it was any other night. “You up?”

“I’m here,” you responded, your voice quieter than usual. You turned to face him as he walked into the kitchen, his tall frame filling the space as he casually leaned against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. His signature blindfold was absent, his sharp blue eyes scanning you with a flicker of curiosity.

Gojo smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Missed you today. How was your day?”

You blinked, surprised by the casual attempt at normalcy. There was something almost detached about the way he asked, as if he was going through the motions without really caring about the answer. You knew he was tired, stressed, but the distance in his tone only made the ache in your chest worse.

“It was fine,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You couldn’t look at him, not yet. Instead, you focused on the floor, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to say what you had been rehearsing in your mind for weeks now.

Gojo seemed to sense the tension, his smile fading slightly as he took a step closer. “You okay? You seem… off.”

You swallowed hard, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. The concern in his eyes was real, but it felt distant, as if he didn’t fully grasp the weight of what was about to happen. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now, he felt like a stranger.

“I need to talk to you, Satoru,” you said softly, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm.

His expression shifted slightly, a hint of apprehension flickering across his face. “Talk to me? What’s wrong?” He crossed his arms, his usual confident demeanor slipping just a little. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check. “No… nothing happened. Not today, anyway.” You took a deep breath, your hands trembling as you finally said the words you had been dreading. “I… I want a divorce.”

The room seemed to freeze, the air between you two thick with tension. Gojo stared at you, the words hanging in the air like a curse. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t blink, as if he hadn’t fully processed what you had just said.

“What?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and there was a flicker of something in his eyes—confusion, disbelief, maybe even hurt. “What did you just say?”

“I want a divorce,” you repeated, this time more firmly, though your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest you wondered if he could hear it. “This… this isn’t working anymore, Satoru. We’re not working anymore.”

His brows furrowed, and he took a step toward you, his posture tense. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of joke?”

You shook your head, feeling the tears begin to well up in your eyes. “No, Satoru. I’m not joking. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this. We’re so distant, so—” Your voice cracked, and you wiped at your eyes angrily. “I feel like I’ve lost you, like I’m just another part of your life that you can’t make time for anymore.”

Gojo’s eyes widened, the shock in his expression quickly turning into frustration. “That’s not true! I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve always been here.”

“Physically, yes,” you said, your voice rising as your emotions bubbled to the surface. “But emotionally? No. You’re always somewhere else, always off fighting, training, dealing with things I’ll never fully understand. And I get it, I do. You’re the strongest, Satoru. But you’re also my husband, and I can’t remember the last time you looked at me like I mattered.”

His mouth opened and closed, as if he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. You could see the panic starting to creep into his eyes, a rare crack in his otherwise confident façade.

“I love you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I know,” you whispered, your tears flowing freely now. “And I love you too. But love isn’t enough when we’re living like strangers, when every day I wonder if I’m even part of your life anymore.”

Gojo took a deep breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You’re part of my life, all right? I know I’ve been distant, but it’s because I’m trying to protect you. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want just safety, Satoru,” you said, your voice breaking. “I want you. I want a marriage where we actually talk, where we laugh, where we support each other. But instead, I feel like I’m losing you to the world, to your duty, to everything but us.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he was silent. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, the battle between his responsibilities as the strongest sorcerer and his role as your husband. But you knew that battle had already been lost.

“I didn’t realize…” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “How could you? You’re never here long enough to notice.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your words settling heavily in the space between you. Gojo stared at you, his expression a mixture of shock and pain, but there was something else there too—acceptance. He had always been smart, always quick to understand the gravity of a situation. And now, you could see that he understood.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but he stopped himself, his arm falling limply to his side. “Is this… really what you want?”

You hesitated, your heart aching as you looked into his eyes—those beautiful, icy blue eyes that had once been your whole world. You didn’t want this, not really. But you couldn’t keep living like this either.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips.

Gojo’s face fell, and for the first time since you had known him, you saw real vulnerability in his eyes. He nodded slowly, taking a step back. “If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice strained, “then… I won’t fight you.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as the reality of the situation settled in. This was the end. The love you shared, the memories, the life you had built together—it was all slipping away.

But as much as it hurt, you knew it was the right thing to do.

You had to let go.

And so did he.

It had been a few months since that night—the night you had asked Gojo for a divorce. The apartment felt emptier now, not just because he had moved out, but because it was as if all the warmth had drained from the space along with him. You had tried to get used to the silence, to the absence of his presence. But even as the days passed, something inside you felt off. You had written it off as stress, as the emotional weight of the separation weighing on your body.

But it wasn’t just that. There were other signs you couldn’t ignore.

You had been feeling exhausted lately—more than usual. You had chalked it up to the emotional toll, to sleepless nights spent staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had gone wrong. But when you found yourself feeling nauseous almost every morning, the pieces started to come together in a way that made your stomach twist—not just from the sickness, but from fear.

You stared at the small box on the counter, the pregnancy test sitting beside it. Your hands trembled as you picked it up, your heart pounding so loudly you could barely think straight.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything.

You had been careful—both of you had. You had tried to avoid any more complications in your life, especially with the growing distance in your marriage. But here you were, staring at the tiny plus sign on the test.

Pregnant.

Your breath hitched as you sank down onto the bathroom floor, the reality of the situation crashing over you like a tidal wave. How could this be happening now? You were in the middle of ending your marriage, trying to move on from Gojo, trying to build some semblance of a life without him. And now, you were pregnant with his child.

The tears came before you could stop them. You had spent weeks trying to be strong, trying to tell yourself that you were doing the right thing by asking for a divorce. But this? This was something else entirely. This was a life growing inside you, a life that would tie you to Gojo forever, no matter how far apart you were.

Your mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that you couldn’t quite grasp. What would he say? What would he do? The Gojo you knew, or at least the Gojo you had known, would be protective, would want to be involved, would drop everything for you if he knew you were carrying his child. But the Gojo you had drifted apart from—the one who was more focused on saving the world than saving your marriage—he felt like a stranger now.

Did you even want to tell him? Could you? Would it change anything? Or would it just complicate things even further?

You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as the tears continued to fall. The confusion, the fear, the overwhelming sense of uncertainty—it was all too much.

Days passed, and you still hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t told anyone—not Gojo, not your friends, not even yourself, really. You tried to keep it buried deep inside, as if pretending it wasn’t real would make the problem go away. But your body wasn’t letting you ignore it anymore. The nausea in the mornings, the fatigue, the changes you could already feel starting to take hold… it was real. And you couldn’t hide from it forever.

You knew you had to tell him. As much as you wanted to avoid it, as much as you wanted to try and handle it on your own, it wasn’t fair. Not to him, and definitely not to the child growing inside you.

So you did the one thing you had been dreading: you picked up the phone and called him.

It rang a few times before he answered. His voice was familiar, warm even, and for a second, you almost forgot the distance between you. Almost.

“Hey,” Gojo said on the other end of the line, his tone light but laced with something else—something cautious. “What’s up?”

You took a deep breath, your heart racing as you tried to find the right words. “Satoru, I need to talk to you. It’s… important.”

There was a pause, and you could hear the shift in his demeanor immediately. “Important? Are you okay?” His voice was sharper now, concerned, and you could practically picture the way his eyes would narrow, his protective instincts kicking in.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though you weren’t sure if that was entirely true. “But… can you come over? I need to tell you something in person.”

Another pause. You could tell he was trying to figure out what was going on, his mind already spinning a thousand possibilities. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in ten.”

You hung up before he could ask any more questions, your stomach twisting with anxiety. The next ten minutes felt like an eternity, each second dragging by as you paced around the apartment, trying to prepare yourself for the conversation that was about to happen.

When Gojo finally arrived, it felt like time had sped up again. He knocked lightly before letting himself in, his eyes immediately scanning the room, searching for you. When he saw you standing there, arms crossed, face pale with anxiety, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

You swallowed hard, trying to gather the strength to say the words. But when you met his eyes—those piercing blue eyes that had once made you feel so safe—everything came rushing out in a single breath.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, suspended between you. For a moment, Gojo just stared at you, his expression unreadable. You could see the gears turning in his head, processing what you had just said, trying to make sense of it.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… pregnant?”

You nodded, unable to speak as the tears started to well up in your eyes again. His reaction was impossible to read. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t panicked, but he wasn’t exactly… overjoyed either. He just stood there, staring at you, as if trying to figure out what to do next.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, your hands trembling as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’ve taken multiple tests.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, taking a step back as he let out a shaky breath. “I— I don’t know what to say.”

“I didn’t want to tell you,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want to make things harder than they already are. But… I thought you had a right to know.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time in a long while, you saw something familiar in his eyes. Not the confident, cocky Gojo that everyone else saw, but the Satoru who loved you, the man who had once been your partner in everything.

“I—” Gojo started, but his voice cracked, and he had to pause, gathering himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know we’d end up here. I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

Neither did you. Neither of you had anticipated this, not after everything that had happened between you. But now, here you were, standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure of where the next step would lead.

Gojo took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I know we’re not… what we used to be. And I know I’ve hurt you. But I don’t want to lose this—us. Not now, not when there’s something more at stake.”

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle heavily in your chest. “I don’t know what to do, Satoru. I don’t know if this changes anything.”

“It changes everything,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “We’re having a baby. Our baby. And I’m not going to walk away from that. I’ll be here, no matter what happens between us.”

You looked at him, searching for some kind of reassurance, something to hold onto in the chaos of your emotions. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a glimmer of the man you had fallen in love with—the man who had once promised to always be by your side.

Maybe this wasn’t the end, after all.

Maybe it was the beginning of something new.

(Guyssss, this has been on repeat and I feel like it lowkey goes with this story🤷‍♀️ you should listen to it!! Anyways hope you enjoyed, part 2 coming soon…)

[hawnks]

ariadne's thread (3,839 words) Rating : Mature Gojo Satoru/Reader Tags : Fix-It, Jujutsu Kaisen Manga Spoilers, Major Manga Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Are You Gojo Satoru Because You're the Strongest, Or Are You the Strongest Because You're Gojo Satoru, Reader Has a Cursed Technique (Jujutsu Kaisen), Reader is JADED, Clingy Gojo Satoru, Mythology as a Motif, Vanilla Sex

Summary: He loses himself. He finds you, instead.

Read on AO3

[rayas-ryoiki-tenkai]

hate sex pt.1

tags: gojo/reader, 18+ minors dni, smut, grinding, gojo being a little shit, marked flashbacks, lampole is angry

parts: 1, 2 (unreleased)

•°. *࿐ - flashback

Also on AO3

"Oh please, like you know anything about pleasure besides your own..."

----

Gojo grips the flesh under your thighs to push you higher and wider, his long, deft fingers shaping your plush skin into whatever he willed so. Fingertips curling around to your hip, his palms sinking in your skin like thumbing into kneaded dough, he squeezes like he could pull off a spongy chunk of you. Satoru exhales particularly at how your flesh gives way to his, letting him in, and how his eyes gravitate to it, so simply easy to give in yet so hard to pull away.

A handprint, like he's marking you, albeit a fleeting sight for as long as he grips you. Your soft curves to the bony back of his knuckles, worlds apart, forged into one.

God, you just had to look this good. He strokes his thumb near your inner thigh and relishes in the shiver that it prompts. Why did you have to look this good? He digs that thumb into muscle.

He's not quite sure why it frustrates him - how supple you are, how your body accommodates for the way he bends you. There's a twitch between your brows, a flickering narrow at the corner of your eyes as if you're frustrated too, but it smoothes into the shape of pleasure. He's glad you lay oblivious to his staring, dumb and drunk off the alcholol and that sweet, sweet way his hip rubs against yours.

He grinds, oh how he grinds, a stiff pressure to translate the strain in his trousers. He's slow, so achingly slow, but catches the bud of nerve endings in every glorious rut. It leaves you gasping, mouth hanging as if to chase the next shot of contact. All your reserve, the feet you dig deep into the ground with a scowl, all of it melts before him, and Gojo drinks up how weak you fall.

Weak. Even beyond comparison for the strongest sorcerer. He could pluck you apart in a breath. You surely wanted to inflict as such on him over the past few years as academic rivals. Tokyo vs Kyoto. A tale as old as time. But now you're spilling 'hmm's in the shape of 'keep going's.

It's quite amusing to spot the damp swatch collecting on your panties, how it clings to your folds in a desperate plea for attention. The fabric settles in the ridges of your pussy, an aimless veil for decency, but one of the straining barriers that kept the frosted-haired freak from digging his cock into you.

Again, your expression reads, but you don't dare give it voice. All that slips are sweet gasps when his bulge presses against your clit, and you can feel just how heavy he's gotten. How big he must be. You'd give him that at least; his ego may have some reasonable substance to it, especially if he's packing a horse for a slender frame.

Fuck, it's not enough. Your eyes shoot open, and by some unfathomable force (the alcohol), you fail to latch onto the tail end of your pride and do best to plead him with your eyes. You know well he understands, that blindfold isn't fooling you. He's towering over in that midnight uniform, almost blending into the dark corners of your kitchen floor if not for the spring of blue slits from the moonlight. The blinds cut light by his jaw and down his neck, painting a pretty pale sheen in the chiseled parts of him. Like a taunt and by God does he look hauntingly beautiful.

Your brows curl to beg again. I need more. Do something.

Gojo grunts low in his chest and immediately wishes to steal back the sound. Why should he give you the honor of hearing his moments of pleasure? If you were so hell-bent on belittling him and his notoriously selfish character to the staff, then why allow erotic, tasteful sounds fall on your ears?

Look at you, he thinks, reveling in how you hopelessly bend to his will, how your eyes glaze over in desperation, anything for him to grind a little faster. Your head falls back again with a thud and your hand frantically searches for the one pushing your thighs higher. Satoru could laugh at how your fingers shake, how pitiful you look, but he doesn't. His jaw angles sharply, hissing between clamping teeth. Where's your bite now?

Your sharp tongue, that utter look of disdain and impossible insignificance. Like he were some bratty kid who'd been screaming between the isles of a grocery store and hauling candies off their shelves in a petty feat. You, you looked at him like he wore muck and slime like an overcoat. Sitting at the bar, sipping away on a stool like it were a pedestal. How was he not supposed to be angry?

•°. *࿐

It had been a sure day, that was until Principal Gakunganji had popped a blood vessel and decided to make it everyone's problem. Of course, the culprit to the fumes steaming out of his ears was none other than Satoru Gojo, much to no one's surprise. The staff had intially planned for a night of celebratory drinks following The Goodwill Event, though the mood had cut short by the devastating hijacking of cursed spirits who were, no doubt, enemies of Gojo lined up in his shadow.

The kids were in danger. Your own second graders, thrown into the impossible task to stay alive amidst the madness. For 'the strongest sorcerer of the present day', Gojo sure took his time to shake the barrier on campus, even had the nerve to goof around when it was all over.

You were having none of it.

"Come on, lighten up," you say, the drink in your hand dangerously edging to the rim in your exclaim. Kusakabe bears you no mind beside you, aimlessly spinning his glass and its melting ice to drown out the hubble. You huff, rolling your eyes.

The bar litters with many of your collective staff, though most of their faces are pulled down in exhaustion. You feel it deeply, the sympathy, the anger, for the overworked sorcerers and staff that looked upon on a friendly night out, now fall on the face of the bar counter with a thud. Just one nice thing. You grit your teeth with replenished rage.

"Gojo this, Gojo that," he mutters. You nudge Kusakabe encouragingly.

"Exactly!" you spring back, "you'll let that lampole dampen your mood?"

Atsuya flinches slightly at how you spur it on, feed into the trash talk, and inevitably sighs as if you were voicing his relentless contempt. You'd already tried poking at Utahime a few times to spill how she felt, but much to the disappointment of your gossiping, and your worry for the welfare of your coworker, she turned it down.

"He's a hotshot with no personality. He doesn't care about the people around him. I don't know why he's allowed to teach the kids in the first place. That 'feather duster' needs his ego shot down a few notches."

You continue, despite the widening look in Atsuya's eyes, "Sure, I get it. Being born into power has its inevitable struggles, but clearly he makes up for his lack of humanity for narcissism. He's got more priviledge in one thumb than we've all seen in our entire lives, yet people bow to his holyness like he's some god. Bless her heart; Miwa admires him. She looks up to him. For what?"

"His height?" Atsuya offers, laughing at his own joke.

You shoot him a look. "Our kids need role models. Not action figures," you take a sip of your drink, "he sure looks like one too."

You've heard it from Utahime herself; Satoru cared little for the average person, maybe a tad more if they were relevant in sorcery, but still, flies on the wall. If something didn't immediately serve him, it didn't exist in his radar. Kusakabe chuckles in agreement but refrains from saying anything; it seems the many near-death incidents and handfuls of casualties racked up on his concious still. You sigh:

"Gojo exists for his own pleasure."

You knock back your drink.

"Curious about my pleasure, are you?"

The voice almost knocks the wind out of you in surprise; you have no idea how you manage to swallow down without choking. Though, what immediately follows courses your blood in cold, wet disdain - because that man could just never stop finding ways to make you hate him more.

Lo and behold, the lampole has arrived.

Sat beside you with an arm propped up to his chin, he wears that impish grin in an effortless attempt to rile you up. You huff at Gojo as if he is the cause of all things uncomfortable and turn to the bartender again, "I need another one of these." A little liquid courage is a necessity when confronting God.

"The hell are you doing here?" you spit at the feather duster, harsher than you intend it to, "you don't drink."

He has the nerve to mockingly place a hand on his chest, mouth dropped in a gasp, "am I not welcome? Ouch." The peaks of his white hair sharpen to emphasize on his need to be dramatic. You roll your eyes.

"Do you not want me here, hmm?" he teases, pulling at the corner of his lips, "aren't you happy? What's with the face?"

God, even his voice is annoying. You can't help but throw, "oh, great. 'What's with the face', huh? So, you do have the ability to see things beyond yourself?"

The twitch of skin beneath his blindfold doesn't go unnoticed. You latch onto the opening.

"Nice to know you choose to be selfish."

•°. *࿐

Selfish.

He leans over, slotting his head between your ankles, pressing your knees into your chest in hopes to snap you in two. Maybe he could squeeze you into something smaller, something that'd fit inside his palm, and maybe that would tone down the weightless whining you did about how much of a terrible person he was. There'll be more where that came from.

If he was so selfish, would he meet the demands of those wet pupils and grind into you in delicious shapes? Would he drag the length of his tented crotch up and down your slit as a trial for what he could gift you?

His height serves to crowd you where his head is higher than yours, and in the unforgiving pace and position he sets you in, you're left craning your neck to meet masked eyes. The sheer size of him shrinks you into submission. Caged to all but feel the bulk of him, all but taste the scent of him and only him.

Ankles on his shoulders, his fingers form a vice grip on your wrists, bound to fall limp at the mercy of whatever the fuck he decides to give you. Selfish, huh? So fucking selfish. Gojo's jaw clenches visibly, nose scrunching in newfound anger. He was going to be selfish alright.

Gojo slows to a pace barely passable for movement. Your eyes widen, bold and wet, your face is priceless.

What's the point of being the strongest sorcerer when you had this?!

Power, to see how you're subject to feel pleasure only if he decides so. Your hands are immobile. Your legs are locked between your bodies. All you can see is the clouded essence of him that leaks off his every breath, the aroma that fans across your face and itches your nerves for more.

Something akin to the devil's henious satisfaction spreads across Gojo's lips, a manic little number you'd never seen on him before. He was still Satoru, stupidly handsome with a wolfish smirk to match, but this tickles your skin in alarm. His blindfold wraps tight around his eyes, but for some reason you feel as if you can see dual beams of blue peering into your every move.

And the way he drags himself, honing the heaviness where you need it most, imprinting the finer veins and ridges of his cock against your clothed sex. You hear it loud and clear; feel this? You'll do good to remember it.

This bastard.

You just want him to fuck you and get over with it, but he's insistent on reminding you how much of an arsehole he is. A groan reverbrates in the back of your throat, your hips all but attempting to buck into him in the little space, and Gojo chuckles like hot honey on your skin, a burn that soothes, posioned pleasure. Of course, you'd trade up your firstborn to actually bash the prick's head in, but you bite your tongue in this losing battle. He knows what you want, and he's well aware he has the means to give it to you.

You groan louder, parts whining, parts breathy, "fuck...Gojo, you self-serving prick."

Surely there are better uses for that tongue, no?

What a sight you are, squirming for a taste more fricition all whilst spitting degradations to mask up your crumbling pride. Look at where you are, baby. Under me. You can't move unless you're moving into me. Is that not what you want, baby? You don't want me to stretch you into my shape, hmm?

"Come on, baby," Gojo painfully strains in the constraints of his uniform, "use that mouth besides calling me a prick. What is it you want?"

His teeth catch his lower lip, a playful tilt of his head lit up from the moonlight. Fuck, the way he smiles is curled in fervor and carnal want, boyishly mischievious.

Say it.

Like he could chew up the skin of your jaw and you'll grate a moan to chase the feeling of his canines in your blood.

Like he could paint your skin in patchy purples whilst you drew your scratches down his back screaming his name. Fuck, fuck, his head dips near your neck, his breath hot in your ear.

"Or I can just get myself off now and call it a night. Never stopped me before."

"God, fuck, Satoru, just-" it trembles when you push it out your throat, your voice losing its timbre, "-just fuck- fuck me already, please."

•°. *࿐

Ever since shaking hands with the administration team, everybody pounced at the opportunity to fill your ears with Gojo's impulsive catastrophes and the ripples all else felt. Typical reckless abandon, to have inherited techniques that few actually understood, you assumed he was burdened by the fated responsibilites that followed. He proved you wrong.

And with some back and forth, and a belly full of alcholol, Gojo has the audacity to step out of the bar in the middle of your pointed rants.

Your feet follow him before suddenly, it clicks; he's offended, "Oh. Oh, ho! I hit a nerve!"

Gojo, decidedly ignoring your existence, continues walking away lazily, hands deep in pockets.

"Good!" You jab at his back, in his shadow, "you should get what you deserve."

To that, he stills. The night drags beyond what the tick of alcholol gave you, and despite feeling the world sways, Gojo stands so still that it recalibrates the sky and ground. You've never known him to be quiet for longer than a handful of seconds, but now the minute drags on, and the nodule in your throat grows and wheezes.

"You hate me." He says, so low that you almost miss it.

Huffing, you scoff, "you think?"

"You hate me."

Okay. Clearly he's so in his own head that he didn't hear you the first time, or literally anytime before that.

"You don't make it easy." You shrug knowingly, "you lack basic morale, Gojo. You step over people. We're pawns of some grand scheme in your twisted little head."

"You don't know me," he turns, and you flinch realising you weren't actually talking to a wall. Usually so animated, it makes you uneasy seeing him so pulled from emotion, a prop at best.

"Do I need to?"

A pause.

"What do you want?"

The streetlamp flickers and solidifies, much like your mind registering the question to the depth Gojo intends. For what purpose did you waddle at his heels to continually jab daggers despite him being the first to walk away? What did this do for you?

Warm tones of golden night lights bathe the space between you two, catching on the tip of his nose and atop his hair, everything else sunken in the shadow. The air feels cool. He takes a step. The air is colder.

"Do you want me prove that I can care?"

Gojo takes another step, gold hazes behind him, "or..."

Why is he getting closer?

"Do you want me to tend to you?"

You struggle to suppress a sharp inhale. His intentions read clear.

It takes you a moment to recover from a stirring something in your lower abdomen, either by the compulsive drinking or the overwhelming closeness of him. Eventually, you chuckle mockingly, leaning in with half a challenge and the other half jaw tensed with the remnants of your anger, ticking off the last jab of the night:

"Oh, please. Like you know anything about pleasure besides your own..."

•°. *࿐

[freakystinky]

ns4w, gojo/ambiguous partner

Gojo is seriously the type of guy who would have zero physical boundaries after he starts dating someone; like a toddler who can’t keep their hands off things. Obviously there’s the normal casual touching, which turns more romantic and exaggerated, but also a new, more intimate kind of touching.

He’s grabby.

He’s also bold, and increasingly so the more he gets away with it. Always, no matter the time, place, or occasion, if his hands are available, they are resolutely holding handfuls of his partners ass, chest, hips, hair… anywhere he can reach, really. He gravitates towards them, always present with a hand gripping their thigh, waist, neck… and when he doesn’t, he’s pouty and upset- sometimes even a little mad. He’s a brat about it, actually.

… In private, he’d walk up behind his parter at any time and sneakily slide his hand into their pants after a chaste kiss on the neck and a whispered greeting. He acts before he asks, but he’s a tease so he’s sure to pose the question once he has a hand around them and he’s invading all of their senses. It’s hard to say no when his breathing is getting heavy next to their ear and he’s driving them crazy with the erection he’s grinding against their ass.

He’d grab them, bruising where fingers grasped at whatever soft flesh they can find when he cums, and he hesitates to let go once he’s done, too.

[owlespresso]

this is a wip. gojo experts feel free to chime in if his dialog doesn't sound right.

“So you’re teaching, now?” Gojo says with a wry grin, too wide, too many sharp teeth. “You retiring soon? I didn’t expect it, but I guess you are getting a few greys.” His playful blue gaze strays towards your mentor’s hairline, where a few silvery strands have begun to show through. You find yourself becoming miffed on his behalf.

“Not anywhere close to being able to,” Sen replies with a tight smile.

“She’s a special case, then?” Gojo tilts his head to the side.

“Hunters of our order take on several apprentices throughout their tenure, instead of simply training one before they retire.” you take that chance to chime in, keeping your tone cool and perfectly polite. “She is in the room.” you so very desperately want to declare, but you must hold your tongue in the presence of the young god king.

You very nearly regret chiming in as he turns his unearthly blues to you. Looking closer, you at last notice that his pupils are narrower than the average human’s, but not as thin as a serpent’s would be. It’s an awkward, oval kind of shape. Your stomach churns.

As a hunter, your instincts have been trained to a fine point. Your gut feelings are absolute certainties. You can recognize the signs of a predator full miles away, can track monsters through numerous types of terrain for miles at a time. You know when a beast is skulking in the dark, when it marks your presence and observes you from the comfort of the cloying shadows. How you feel now is disconcertingly familiar. Like a beast you’ve been sent to slay is hunting you as much as you are hunting it.

“And what’s your name, little hunter?” the resplendent lord asks, voice gone soft, like the faint ring of distant windchimes. Light with amusement.

[megvmins]

since ur shy I can get you started b; what’re your head-canons for Gojo regarding NSFW? I’ve seen everything from breeding to BDSM but honestly I think he’s more “lay down and let you take care of it” type, or maybe a voyeurist

ugh I feel like he can do it all 😩

but to actually answer I definitely join the gojo breeding kink truthers, not necessarily because he would want kids (jujutsu society is not the best place for kiddos) but he is possessive beyond belief and the high he gets from painting your insides?? unparalleled

also I definitely see what you're saying cuz he would let you do all the work just to tease you and wait for you to break and beg for him to do something. he is mean like that sometimes :(( and then he'll bend you in half and go to town just pounding you into the bed until you go little bit dumb just for him chuckle at your state, "you asked for it. don't try to run now."

the voyeur thing I could see but only to some extent, I feel like he is too impatient to wait for you to play with yourself when he can just push your legs open and shove his face into your pussy and make you feel even better. :(( and he doesn't stop licking and sucking even when your legs are shaking and you try to push his head away. it might turn him on even more, he'd groan and double his efforts cuz "one more. just one more." that's what the previous two times as well.

[sweet-evie]

What Those Eyes See

A/N: Just brainrot birthed from this post about Gojo's Six Eyes. I'm going back to writing Satsuki's 1st birthday now.

✨ masterlist ✨

A Saturday afternoon spent wandering through Shibuya wasn’t usually on her top list of things to do on the weekend, but when Satoru fervently asked (more like pleaded) for her company on a specific excursion of his, she couldn’t really say ‘no’.

Or more like… It was hard to tell him, ‘No.’

The distant rumble of accelerating engines, the shuffling of countless footsteps on pavement, and the distinct cacophony of the crowded town had not left her ears ever since she and Satoru had left the subway station. This town with its beeps and whistles and chatter held her attention, so much so that she barely heard Satoru’s voice above the symphony of hectic city life.

“More than a handful of pregnant women are out today.” Satoru spoke nonchalantly, walking beside her with one hand in his jeans’ pocket, while the other hand was busy twirling a blue sucker in his mouth.

Part of her didn’t even believe that she heard him right. Why did he say it like he was just talking about the weather?

“What?”

He peered at her over the rims of his sunnies, blue eyes that mirrored clear skies sparkling under the light of the afternoon sun.

“Mhmm… You heard me. Don't know if I told you this, Sweetheart, but I can see a lot of things.” The grin stretched across his lips was nothing short of attractive and shit-eating. “And to think, you mistook me for a blind man when we met.”

She narrowly side-stepped a couple hurrying down the sidewalk, bags swinging from both of their arms.

“Yeah, you're the extreme opposite of blind.” She shook her head and smirked at him. “You’re telling me you have an ultrasound with those eyes?”

Satoru pursed his lips and made a show of humming out loud thoughtfully.

"That's different.” He popped the sucker out of his mouth. “Ultrasounds use high-frequency sound waves to show you pictures of the fetus, right?” At her shrug and refusal to meet his eyes, he continued explaining as they headed for their destination. “With the Six Eyes however, I see more than just the person’s physical body. There's cursed energy, and then there's the formation of the human soul. The unborn child’s soul resides right next to the mother's. Kind’a hard to miss two of those stuck together and sharing one body." 

The longer he talked, the more her questions multiplied.

The Six Eyes and what it could see had always been a point of intrigue for her. Over the years, Satoru never bothered telling her the intricate details or the true scope of what he could see out of his own volition. If she was curious about aspects of his power, she would always ask and he would give her a direct answer. She had never asked him to explain all of it to her in great detail, and that was because part of her suspected that even if he would indulge that request, she wouldn’t be capable of comprehending it anyway — certainly not in a way Satoru himself understood it.

Besides… where would one even begin?

So the additional piece of information he’d offered out of the blue would have been odd under normal circumstances if she hadn’t been keen on withholding important news of her own for the past few weeks.

“As a matter of fact,” Satoru mused as they paused at another crosswalk, “There are eight pregnant women in this area right  now. Not sure if they know though. It seems like it's pretty early.”

In the end, concealing it had been useless from the beginning.

“Satoru…”

“Hm?”

“You already know huh?”

“Nine pregnant women, if we include you.” The answering grin he flashed her way was an answer all on its own. “I knew from the first week.”

Of course he knew… Of course he found out.

She was pleasantly surprised to find out that there was no trace of panic nor apprehension in her, only resignation. Despite how meticulously she’d disposed of her positive pregnancy test and how carefully she’d planned her first doctor’s appointment after her discovery, the truth etched into her own soul revealed itself anyways.

Of course Satoru and his Six Eyes knew about the existence of their unborn child before she did.

“Why didn't you say anything? You knew before I did. I discovered it in the fifth week.”

“And even after you found out, you obviously didn't want me to know right away. I didn’t want to pressure you or anything.” Or possibly freak her out with the knowledge that he knew before she could even guess about her child’s existence.

“So what changed your mind now?”

“It’s been 17 weeks. I can’t wait anymore. I also just wanted to start shopping for stuff for the nursery with you.”

“Satoru, you're not bothered?”

“Baby, we've been dating for four years. Why would I be bothered?”

It was a stupid question. If she wasn’t so preoccupied with her own discomfort, her nausea, and her silent struggle to keep all the hardships to herself during the first trimester, perhaps she would have noticed all the little things Satoru did every day to help ease her discomfort. In hindsight, she should have noticed the addition of health supplements in the kitchen, the well-stocked fridge and pantry, and Satoru’s insistence on hiring someone who could do household chores for them.

And in hindsight, she shouldn’t have hesitated in telling him.

She should have trusted him more.

“It’s something we never talked about before. You’re… You’re not disappointed?”

“Disappointed in who?” The look on his face was a cross between being offended and a little sad. “You? Just what kind of guy do you think I am?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that… I just— I’ve already decided on keeping the baby, but I don’t know if you—”

He sighed, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “You’re right. It’s something we haven’t talked about, and we should talk more about this later… Lay down our plans and stuff for the coming months. But for now, I just want you to know that I’m happy about starting a family with you.”

“You really mean that?” Maybe it was the sentiment or perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones acting up, but the unshed tears that gathered at the edges of her eyelids revealed the relief and the gratitude welling up within her.

“I wouldn’t have asked you out today to shop for baby things with me if it were otherwise.” Satoru’s lopsided smile was assurance at its finest.

“Excuse you, you never mentioned what we were supposed to be doing here today.”

“Right… Well, that’s on me.” He grinned and slipped an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer to his side, “But also, you didn’t think I knew up ‘til now.”

“Satoru, I can’t with you.”

At the very least, it was nice to know her anxieties over the whole thing amounted to nothing after all.

[hinakazino]

Against Your Will || Sukuna/Gojo x Reader

summary: you and gojo were lovers, but not all is meant to last. especially with sukuna's existence.

warnings: MANGAAAAAAAA SPOILERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS, read at your own risk, yandere tendencies, kidnapping, forced relationship, MAJOR character death, angst with no comfort, tons of gojo/reader, but sukuna/reader happens.

You remember very clearly. The soft breeze blowing through your hair, looking up at the clear blue sky, and snapping out of your trans when he called your name. Ah, that's right, him, Gojo Satoru. You were standing in a beautiful garden, filled with many uniquely styled bushes, vibrant flowers, water fountains, and much more. It was like a magical place, and now, a loving memory. It was the place he had asked you to be his girlfriend, and as time passed you became his wife. Others considered you both young when you married, but you both cared less. You loved Gojo, his beautiful sky blue eyes, silky white hair, strong build, softness, as well as his rough spots. Satoru was someone you thought you'd only admire, but instead you found yourself entangled in his arms, in his embrace. Gojo had loved you just as much, he had to admit his ego was stroked a lot at first. However, he found himself breaking down the walls he built to shield his emotions for you. You were a strong and confident woman, he liked that. You were funny, honest, and reliable, he liked that. You were there for him during his highs and lows, he loved that. You both began dating at 20, and got married 3 years later at 23. Together, you moved in with him, fell into a daily routine, fought alongside one another, and gave happiness to each other. Everything was perfect, just right, despite Sukuna's revival. Everything was going to be alright, "I'm the strongest after all, you wouldn't doubt me would you?" Gojo said, smiling and proceeding to pull you into a tight hug, hammering you with kisses. You giggled a lot, fighting him off, "you goof!" you exclaimed laughing at his antics. It was a tough time, the appearance of Geto-- no Kenjaku. It was a horrid time, with Gojo being sealed. You held onto hope, it was just a delay. You remember the insane pressure that was lifted off your shoulders, your entire being, and most importantly your heart we Gojo was unsealed. The tears that fell as you saw him again. He was emotional too, you could tell, as he gave you the tightest squeeze you'd ever felt. It was like he didn't want to let you go, and you didn't want him to either, you just wanted time to freeze. You falsely believed everything would go back to normal. As you kissed him in a mist of chaos with pure love. How cruel the world is then, for nothing went back to the way it was. You watched as your friends died, and even after Gojo's return comrades still continued to die. One by one they all went, and then, he went. Your one true love, your light, your world, had been taken out by Sukuna. Sukuna Ryomen, you despised him, and now hated him with all of your existence. You were helping secure pedestrians and clear the perimeter of curses near the main battle. It seemed that most curses and people avoided the area though, and so you decided to approach. Maybe I can help him? Was what you had thought. Instead you came just in time to witness his downfall. Others say it was the death of Gojo Satoru, strongest wizard to arrive on Earth, the worlds doom, but you just saw him as Satoru. Your Toru, your love, your man, the one you saw a future with, who was practically all you had left. Love makes people blind, lose common sense, and in this case it's true. You didn't think before your legs began moving, rushing, purpling you towards him. You quickly knelt beside his upper body, in a state of panic, mouthing to yourself "no no no no-- Satoru please no," as you cupped his face with your hands. Tears fell from your eyes as you frantically tried to blink them away. You had a feeling he was still able to get a glimpse of you before he passed. His smile was somewhat comforting but he wasn't there anymore, you wept on his chest. Your hand reached down, and your fingers intertwined with his as you screamed your pain out. You did so for minutes, giving him kisses, praying that it was a joke he was pulling, and squeezing his hand. But that didn't last long, because you were pulled back to reality.

"Stop crying," Sukuna stated, as he towered above you in his true form. You hadn't even realized he'd gotten so close, or the fact he'd transformed, too caught up in your despair. You glare up at him in defiance, tears still coursing down your face. It was useless though, you knew, you weren't positioned to quickly remove yourself from the situation, and you didn't want to abandon Gojo either. Even if you did Sukuna could simply grasp you by your ankle and prevent you from running. His presence was terrifying, your tears began to dry up, now replaced with spots of sweat as you stayed still. Sukuna grinned down at you, one of his hands roughly gripping your left hip holding you down. He was significantly larger than you. "Don't touch me," you shouted, your hands moving to pry his off. Sukuna softly chuckled, his other hand snapping itself around your neck cutting off air. You let out a gasp and begin squirming, "I love people who put up a good fight, your husband definitely did, ah yes, your deceased husband," he emphasized. You couldn't help the way your blood boiled at his mocking words, your mouth opening to retaliate, only to gasp for air as he let you go. You dropped to your hands and knees taking in air desperately, "leave--hah--us--hah--be," you gulped. "You already defeated him," you stated, your hand going to feel your neck, no doubt there was Sukuna's hand mark. Sukuna laughs, a guttural laugh, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He grasps your chin lifting your gaze towards him. "He deserves a proper burial, yes, I'll make it fancy and spectacular, nothing short of perfect.." he spoke to you, eyes drifting temporarily towards Gojos lifeless form. "After all it is the least I can do, since I'll be taking you," he finishes now looking back down at you. His eyes are different, there is something sinister behind them, you don't want to know. Whatever it is, lust, enjoyment, or evil. You find yourself unable to breath, the truth now sinking in, your future oh so grim. You quickly sent a punch towards his stomach, attempting to jump backwards while in your shock. Only for his hands to clasp your body again, he was much faster than you were. This time one of his hands covered your eyes as his other two pulled you into a hug with him. Despite being blinded you could practically feel his cursed energy and smug smirk radiating. You were disgusted as Sukuna lowered his head to the crook of your neck taking in a whiff of your scent. "Mmh, you've always smelled good, you know how much I wanted you while in that other brats body?" he asks. Well, he doesn't really, because he answers his question, "and now you've got nowhere to run, hm, is that not right little human?" he says in a low hushed tone. You grit your teeth at the thought of not just Gojo, but Yuji and Megumi. Sukuna proceeds to lick a stripe up your neck, predatory, as he chuckles softly at the way you shiver.

Then you're knocked out. In the blink of an eye, you only find yourself later in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unknown people. Now known as the stolen lover and current wife of Sukuna Ryomen.

Back to it, with angst. Sorry y'all. 🥹

© 2023 by Hinakazino, do not translate/edit/claim or use my work in any form.

[sokkaxmoon]

A Night Under The Stars

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a serene glow over the quiet training grounds at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The usual cacophony of students and teachers was absent, leaving only the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a nocturnal creature. You had stayed late, your mind racing after a long day of lessons and practice.

Sitting on a bench beneath a sprawling cherry blossom tree, you tried to clear your thoughts, the gentle breeze rustling through your hair. The scent of the blossoms filled the air, and you found solace in the peaceful night.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar, light-hearted chuckle from behind you. Turning around, you saw Gojo Satoru strolling into view, his trademark white hair glowing softly under the moonlight. He wore his usual casual attire—a dark, fitted shirt, his signature black blindfold, and a relaxed smile.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice as smooth and playful as ever.

You shook your head, trying to offer a small smile. “Not really. Just needed some fresh air.”

Gojo approached and plopped down on the bench beside you, stretching his long legs out and making himself comfortable. “Ah, I see. Well, you’re not alone in that. I was just taking a break from some… well, let’s call it ‘supervision.’”

You glanced at him curiously. “Supervision? Of what?”

He grinned, tapping his sunglasses. “I have to keep an eye on all the shenanigans happening around here, even when I'm not on duty. It’s a full-time job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I bet it is. So, what brings you out here tonight?”

Gojo leaned back and looked up at the star-studded sky, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes I just need to get away from the chaos. You know, enjoy the simple things. Like how peaceful it is out here.”

For a moment, there was a rare, genuine silence between you, the kind that spoke volumes without words. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

“You know,” you began, hesitating slightly, “you’re not always as carefree as you seem. Sometimes it’s like you’re carrying a lot on your shoulders.”

Gojo turned to you, his usual playful demeanor softening. “You noticed, huh? I guess I do have a lot of responsibilities. But I try not to let it get to me. I have to stay positive for everyone else, after all.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. “It must be hard, though. Balancing everything while keeping up your own image.”

He chuckled, a genuine sound that made his eyes crinkle with warmth. “It’s not all that bad. I have people like you around who keep me grounded.”

You blinked in surprise, feeling a warmth in your cheeks. “Me? How so?”

Gojo shrugged, his grin returning. “You’re always so dedicated, so hardworking. It reminds me why I do what I do. Besides, you’re not so bad to talk to when I need a break.”

You looked down, feeling a mix of shyness and appreciation. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

He leaned in closer, the playful glint in his eye never fading. “Well, you should know that I have a soft spot for those who can keep up with me. And you definitely do.”

As the night wore on, the conversation between you and Gojo meandered from light-hearted banter to deeper, more personal reflections. The stars above seemed to twinkle in agreement with the connection that had formed.

When it was finally time to leave, Gojo stood up and offered you a hand. “Let’s head back. It’s getting late, and we both have a full day ahead.”

You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch, and stood up with him. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you walked side by side back to the dorms, the moonlight casting a gentle glow over your path, you couldn’t help but feel that this quiet night had somehow made everything a little clearer. In Gojo’s presence, amidst the tranquility of the night, you had found not just a mentor but a friend who understood more than he let on.

And as you parted ways at the door, Gojo turned with a final, genuine smile. “Goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

You smiled back, feeling a sense of contentment. “Goodnight, Gojo.”

As you entered your room, you glanced out the window at the stars one last time, feeling a renewed sense of calm. The night had been a reminder that even amidst the chaos, there were moments of peace and connection worth cherishing.

[freakalot]

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

part 2

[baobei-bu]

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star Masterlist // Pornstar Satoru headcanons

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream.

Warnings- mentions of sex and sexwork, masturbation, mentions of drug use, weed smoking, Gojo has an OF hehe, lots of longing, pining, Satoru can't get hard if it's not you, whipped ass Satoru, explicit sexual content, angst - WC 32k 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 Playlist -Ao3 link-Headcanons below!

Pornstar Satoru is one of the most famous pornstars there are, hence him constantly wearing jet black shades and hoodies at times, he never knew just who he'd run into that would recognize him. Whether it's his flicks or his OF - he's the top .01 % - he gets a lot of notice, especially in bustling LA. But, he loves what he does, he especially loves watching his abs flex in the camera as he hits one of his lovely costars from the back.

Pornstar Satoru loves making the costars and girls he collabs with actually cum, where they're shaking and squirting all over his latex covered cock. Not that fake shit like he watches them do with other men- no Satoru makes sure to slam that curved tip against their cervix, to roll his thumb right on their clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Perhaps that's the secret to how famous he really is, along with his good looks.

Pornstar Satoru makes so much money from each shoot and is in high demand, so he can have whoever he wants as a co star. They line up to have a chance at him, watching his videos and aching for a chance to feel his cock hitting them deeper than damn near anyone could hit, to say they got to shoot with the Satoru Gojo. This just makes Satoru fuck them harder, smiling right at that camera, as women dream it's really them that have captured his pretty blue eyed gaze.

Pornstar Satoru thinks it's a pretty damn good life, being rich for fucking beautiful women on camera, as he's inhaling a blunt after a threesome shoot with his best friend - and often costar- Pornstar Suguru, as they talk about who got the girl to squirt more, right in the middle of a bouguie party in East LA. Suguru let's out a throaty laugh, while Satoru narrows his blue eyes. 'I had her cumming so hard she was shaking' he says, taking a hit and handing it back to Suguru. 'Nah, that was all for me, did you see...'

Pornstar Satoru stops listening when he sees you enter the room, completely out of place at the coke filled, booze filled party, wearing a pair of black glasses that cover half of your pretty face, and a little nervous look as you stand there, in a cute white pleated skirt and a big oversized sweater. Satoru smacks Suguru on the shoulder then and he coughs up smoke. 'Shit what is it?' Satoru looks back at you, when you're handed a drink, some guy flirting as you look down shyly. 'Who's she?' Suguru blinks a bit curiously. 'I don't know, she's pretty though'

Pornstar Satoru scowls at Suguru who snorts in laughter then. 'Satoru we don't have 'girlfriends' and she... looks like a good girl' your eyes catch his then, across the room, like something shifts as you smile sweetly, before peering at your phone, biting your lip in concentration. 'I'm talking to her' Suguru chuckles as he watches his friend, and Satoru feels his heart race when he comes too close to you, something he can't say he's felt, even pleasing countless beauties, nothing has quite altered him as your sweet turn of lips, as you look down at your converse, so out of place you're fucking adorable. 'Hey sweetheart... Satoru Gojo' he says, introducing himself with ease, expecting you to maybe notice him, get starstruck, fuck women get wet just near him, but you simply grin, and your name whispers through his mind when it spills from your lips.

Pornstar Satoru has you sitting with him later, you fall into easy conversation, you're a little gamer nerd, you love science and the environment, he just bets you were head of your ecology club in college, which you quickly confirm, all while you're in awe of just how beautiful this man is. He's sweet, he's sexy... you feel he shouldn't even be talking to you. You're pretty but... he's experienced so clearly, by every way he moves, he's worldly, so confident, and you've never really left this little part of LA, but the two of you can't stop talking, to the point you forget what brought you here.

Pornstar Satoru laughs with you, as you're sitting side by side, and he lights up a blunt, leaning back on the burgundy couch on the outskirts of the party, inhaling it deep into his lungs. 'Want a hit, sweets?' he murmurs, you take it nervously, putting it to your lips and inhaling a bit, before coughing, covering your mouth. Satoru chuckles, 'you're cute' earning your cheeks heating up. 'Can you tell I don't do this?' you're nervously tapping your leg now. 'Yeah, what does bring you here, doesn't seem your...' 'my scene?' he nods then. 'yeah, that.'

Pornstar Satoru watches avidly as you sip on your drink, wincing at the strong liquor. 'Well, my friend invited me over, but she's running late' Satoru grins now. 'Party time is different, everyone comes late, that's on time. About fifteen minutes late' 'oh no I came early!' you smack your own forehead, giggling along with him. 'Are you like... a model, or an actor?' you ask, eyeing him and his baby blues, the cheekbones so perfect, those lips that wrap the blunt again. 'You could say I'm a bit of both,' he muses, then spits out his drink when you ask 'what are you in!?'

Pornstar Satoru coughs just a bit, he's never been ashamed of what he does, but he's nervous for some reason to tell you. Why, he doesn't know. 'I'm... into some indie flicks' you brighten up then. 'Oh, let me know, I love lowkey films! I bet you're great' Satoru sighs, gulping down the rest of his drink and eyeing your cup. 'Want more?' you frown now, maybe you're asking too much, or offending this actor that you don't recognize him!? You nod, the amount of people around you making you press against this friendly, pretty white haired stranger just a little more.

Pornstar Satoru has another drink, eyeing the sea of bodies undulating in the extravagant mansion, and soon the two of you are dancing together you're cute and so awkward, Satoru's enjoying this far, far too much. He has plenty of costars and fans come up to the two of you, but he's too interested in showing you how to move your hips to pay them any mind, when finally your friend comes. Satoru instantly recognizes her, she's a pretty famous co star he's collabed with on her Onlyfans not long ago. When she sees you giggling and enjoying yourself so much, she damn near drags you away, making Satoru curse.

Pornstar Satoru eyes you when your friend whispers in your ear- 'you really don't recognize him!?' you blink curiously, looking at him more closely. 'Should I?' she sighs then, eyeing Satoru up and down. 'He was in my OF videos, we collabed' you heat up furiously then. 'I never watched your videos! I just subbed to be supportive!' she giggles. 'You're so cute, I thought you at least watched some?' you shake your head nervously. 'I don't really watch, is he... like an OnlyFans guy?' Satoru is back over with Suguru now, while you sip your drink, feeling your body warm up. 'He's the top pornstar there is, the collab was like a dream. He's really sweet but you should know is all, you're kinda...' you glare. 'kinda what?' she giggles again. 'you're just... sweet, emotional, is all'

Pornstar Satoru expects you to be done with him once you find out, after all you just seem innocent, uncorrupted for this city, not the kind of girl to be at this party where lines are being snorted off bodies, and people are naked and jumping in the pools, a heady, wild atmosphere. But you smile at him, as you murmur - 'he's sweet?' to your friend. She nods then. 'He is, but just know... he doesn't date so, it'd only be physical' you frown at that now, that's not something you think you can do, you're about as demisexual as it gets, hence your very limited experience. 'He doesn't date at all?' Your friend gently touches your shoulder. 'No, love, I'd hate to see you hurt'

Pornstar Satoru catches you before you leave later that night, when you are just feeling too out of place, his big hand wrapped around your delicate wrist, earning you looking up at him. He can't stop thinking how pretty your eyes would look rolled back, how good your lips would feel wrapped around his cock, as you relax a bit, turning and looking up. 'Headed out already?' he asks softly, you flush as you remember just what he does for a living, your friend had just described his cock in far too vivid detail. 'It's not really my thing, but I'm glad we met, Gojo' you smile so cute then, leaning up and pecking him on the cheek, his arm wraps your waist as he leans down, inhaling that sweet vanilla scent cloying to your skin.

Pornstar Satoru pulls you in closer, blue eyes staring under snowy lashes. 'Can I... get your number?' Satoru has never asked for a number a day in his life, but he delights in watching you shift nervously, nodding as you tuck your hair behind your ear. 'Yeah, I'd like that' he exchanges numbers, tilting your chin up then, watching the way your eyes dilate, the color spread on your pretty cheeks. 'She told you?' you clear your throat, nodding a bit, still being captured by his fingers. 'I don't judge at all, Gojo, I'd still like to be... friends...' your whisper is met with the most subtle kiss on your lips, shooting desire hot and heavy until Satoru releases you, plump lips smirking- 'sure, sweets, we can be friends'

Pornstar Satoru can't get you off his mind, the feel of your skin on his, the sweet sigh against his lips. He is on a big shoot and - the Satoru Gojo that never gets soft - is having trouble keeping it up, to the amusement of his costar Pornstar Sukuna. Satoru scowls at his comments, just picturing your sweet lips against his for that brief moment. A man who just fucks and fucks, and doesn't feel, is hung up just on some fucking kiss. He has to take a break after pleasing his costar with his fingers, she's cumming so much she doesn't notice, but the directors wonder why he's off. He's in his own dressing room, eyeing the phone, hands shaking as he decides to type a message - 'could you give me a picture, sweets, to save as your caller id?'

Pornstar Satoru finds his cock is right back on hard when you send one quickly, just a cute selfie with a little peace sign, but he sees your glossy fucking lips, the teeth indentations he aches to rub the tip of his cock on, along with just a hint of your breasts. Your nipples press against the thin material of your little tee shirt- Pokemon, he notices, smiling- his cock throbbing. 'Can I get one too?' you're biting that lower lip nervously as you ask, getting a picture of him shirtless then, doing nothing to stifle the curiosity in your mind, your heart racing as you seee his body. 'You at a shoot?' you ask in the messages, he hesitates before answering - 'yes' - and somehow you feel jealous of whoever his costar is. You message a - kill it, Gojo! - despite the feeling in your tummy, little do you know you're drowning his fucking mind when he performs later, feeling the star squirting all over his latex covered cock.

Pornstar Satoru can't stop texting you that week, he can't even get hard if he doesn't look at that picture, and you can't stop your curiosity, when you friend mentions he's doing a live stream. Since Satoru can hardly perform, he's decided to masturbate on live cam, in minutes making more than he'd make in a shoot, all while having your picture propped up. People are chatting, watching, dollars by the hundreds being tipped every moment, fuck he's making way more than he usually would, and he can think of you. He laughs softly, abs flexing as he hits the right angle, reading the comments, making you dripping wet, this isn't what you do!?

Pornstar Satoru is stroking his wet, slick cock that's glistening, up and down with his huge hand, and you feel your pussy clench, breath coming faster, unsure whether to look away or keep staring, meanwhile he's picturing you in all sorts of positions, on your knees, a fucking mating press. He's shutting his eyes for a moment, grinning as the viewers go crazy. 'I know, it's pretty, huh?' he spits right on that long, veiny cock of his, pinching his pink tip and whining, white lashes fluttering open right when he sees a familiar name enter the chat.

Your name.

hehe it'll be a FULL FIC not a drabble/oneshot - link above