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#jjk gojou
devotekuna · 3 days
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Royalty!Gojo headcanons/drabbles
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♡˗Gojo who buys his wife gifts nearly everyday, leaving them outside of their bedroom door or on the bed. They vary from limited books, makeup, jewellery, or just random stuff he found nice.
☆You know that he's trying to win you over, another factor to prove this was the flowers in his royal garden, were actually taken care of and some of your favourite plants were sprouting in there.
☆Whenever you two visit outside the castle, he's always trying to win you over with bringing food for the locals or trying out their stuff, even buying you a handmade dress, despite not knowing if it would fit you.
☆His remarks don't go unnoticed as the servants catch on, and start to tease him about it whenever he's not on earshot, always telling you secrets about him.
☆He's mesmerized by anything you do, you could be tending to the flowers and hed fall in love once again.
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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER ELEVEN
A RUNAWAY AND A DEADMAN
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⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader
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series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.
Words count: ~14k
⊲ previous
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Under the concentrated puffing on the left, you tried to chop the chocolate bar as small as possible. Over the past couple of hours, you and Megumi have identified a not perfect, but decent recipe for chocolate muffins through trial and error. The boy slowly and methodically stirred the resulting dough with a whisk, trying to get rid of any lumps. When you reached for the bowl to taste the mixture for sugar, you received a resounding slap on the hand. You rolled your eyes and continued chopping the chocolate, trying to turn it to dust.
"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," muttered Megumi absentmindedly, watching the batter drip off the whisk.
You had to strain your ears to hear what he was mumbling to himself. "What if ya add more flour?" you asked uncertainly, looking at the too-liquid consistency.
"I'm not talking about muffins," Megumi snapped. A chill immediately spread down his back, making the boy shiver – it was all the fault of the sharp sound of a knife sticking into a cutting board. With a sideways glance, Megumi caught sight of you leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest and staring at him. "Sorry."
"If it's not the muffins, then what is it?" you asked, peering into the profile of the frowning face.
"I...," he began, hesitating. "I'm not sure if we should put up with her anymore."
"Has your love gone away, too?"
Megumi looked up sharply, and you could see the anxiety spreading across his young face. "Has it gone away for her?"
"How would I know?" you shrugged dryly. "Ya both sitting silently in your corners and ya seem to be hoping that it'll work itself out there somehow," Megumi took a whisk out of the bowl and pointed a finger at it meaningfully. You chuckled quietly. "Dany always loved chocolate muffins. Kudos for volunteering," you jokingly gave a bow of your head. "Still, that doesn't explain your hesitation."
"Well...," the boy started stirring the dough slowly again as if it was a ritual that brought tranquility. "It's just... Does it make sense?" asked Megumi weakly, and you only hummed thoughtfully. "In the end, it doesn't matter how many friends and loved ones we have. We die alone anyway," the fridge started humming twice as loud, except it was a distortion of Megumi's hearing. He could even hear his own heartbeat, annoying and fast, all from you being silent. He coughed and glimpsed at you, making sure you were still standing next to him. "You don't think so?" 
"To be honest, I, uh... I hadn't thought about that at all," you chuckled nervously. "I'm still a little confused... Ya mean that when ya die ya'll have no one around ya, or vice versa, that despite being surrounded by loving people, ya'll go into oblivion alone?"
"Is there a difference?" he asked warily, almost fearfully.
"Yeah, ya right, I guess. There's not much difference," you sighed, scratching your forehead. "Look, Megumi, if ya wanna live your whole life in some small house in the middle of nowhere alone that's fine. If ya wanna live your life surrounded by a bunch of friends that's fine. If ya wanna live your life with only one person that's fine too, but it's all okay only as long as it's your personal choice.
"Fear rarely leaves a choice," Megumi doubted quietly, dumping your previously chopped chocolate off the board into a bowl.
"That's what I'm telling ya," you said, grabbing the cutting board and putting it in the sink. "Ya'll probably have a brick fall on your head tomorrow, and ya'll be lying in a dark alley all dead and alone," even though the sound of water running and a washcloth rubbing against wood was beginning to echo through the kitchen, Megumi could hear you clearly. "Scared to go outside now?" slyly glancing at the boy and seeing him shake his head in the negative, you smirked contentedly. "Ya can be afraid, but don't let something so ephemeral stop ya from living your life the way ya want to. It'll be fun if at the very end all ya have time to think about is how stupid ya were, not that ya're alone. If ya make it at all, of course," you scrubbed the board clean, but Megumi remained silent. Your patience was wearing thin. You needed either confirmation or persuasion. "So," you chuckled snidely. "What are we deciding? No, no, wait, don't say anything!" you turned to him and waved your hands, stopping him. "Ya better do. I'm offering you a choice - either ya keep making muffins or ya can go cry in your room. I'll understand either way."  
Megumi gave you a glare that glinted angrily in the light of the kitchen garland. "You remind me of someone," he hissed, and continued kneading the chocolate into the dough with double zeal.
You watched his eagerness with satisfaction. "That's what I thought. Okay, philosophical musings are all well and good, but let's have a little talk about training and a plan of action," Megumi glowed when you said that. As much as he could, but you hadn't even noticed the change. "I think it's time for ya to learn regeneration."
"Wouldn't it be better to start with rel-"
He didn't get a chance to speak, for you pressed your palm sharply against his mouth. "Nah-uh," you said slowly, shaking your head and looking into his rounded eyes. You didn't immediately realize that you were clutching his shoulder tightly with your other hand. "Ugh," you exhaled, pulling your hands away from him. "For now, forget that word, do ya understand?" you made a grabbing motion with your palm as if taking the word from his vocabulary. Megumi, pressing his lips tightly together for a second, nodded. "Ya'll be relocate with me anyway, so that's not really important at first times, but the thing that will save your life more than once is running and regeneration. But mostly running, of course," you pointed out.         
"I'm used to standing to the last man," Megumi objected sullenly.
"Ya'll wean," you chirped carelessly. "We're not known for heroics."
"And what the hell do I need this training for then?" blurted Megumi in the way he usually did - though his appearance remained calm, steel rang in his voice. "To run away like a coward?"
"So ya won't die," you parried. "How many people will ya save by being in the grave?"
"Will I save many by running away?" he persisted.
"At least ya'll stay alive and learn your lesson," you reasoned, spreading your arms out to the sides. "And if ya learn it right, ya'll be stronger."
"At the cost of the lives of the people I left behind?" Megumi continued to snarl.
"Exactly," you snapped, and Megumi bit his lip without expecting it himself. He was used to you and your perpetually calm and cheerful tone, and the way it shifted at the snap made the hairs on the back of his neck stir. "Ya volunteered, and now ya're my apprentice. I don't care if ya want it or not, but you will obey me now," you spoke coldly and distinctly. Relaxing your clenched fists, you looked at Megumi. His body was still the same size, but it looked like he was shrinking. Taking a mug from the shelf, you started brewing coffee. "The rest of the voidrunners will start evacuating in a couple weeks, we will join them a little later," you announced, softening your tone. "Ya want coffee?"
"Tea."
"Okay," you said, pulling out a second mug.  
Megumi didn't give up trying to protest. "I can start along with them-"
"Ya can't," you replied dryly. "Ya'll only go on raids with me."
"Do you distrust others that much?" the boy asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.
You shrugged idly. "It just makes me feel better."
"Isn't it the same thing?"
Letting his words pass your ears, you continued your admonition. "When we're in the void, just drop the bags of supplies and run to the nearest rift. If anything goes wrong and we get separated, don't trust anyone, don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone," you sighed restlessly, pouring coffee into one mug and putting a tea bag in the other. "Ya'll never guess who's standing in front of ya there," you added quietly.
"Don't you...," Megumi's voice came up, hesitating. "Don't you know how to tell the difference?"
You, with a fussy chuckle, began pouring boiling water into cups.  "No, none of the hunters have built-in internal radar, only experience. And experience, as it goes, comes with the years."
"Too long," grumbled Megumi gloomily. "We don't have that much time."
You set the mug of freshly brewed tea next to him. "Ya wanted it all at once?" you teased him, smiling. "Ya gotta pay tribute to dioreacts. They've spent thousands of years learning how to act like humans. They learned not only how to stir tea or blink, but how to perceive our world in general," you circled the space with your hands for extra convincing. "The first dioreact didn't know that all the electromagnetic waves around them were just color to humans because that's exactly our interpretation of electromagnetic waves, and there is no color anywhere in the universe outside of the human brain. Perhaps the dioreacts even now don't know what color is, but just... Uh, I dunno, adjusted? Maybe they can see wavelengths and have memorized that that wave over there is green and that one over there is grayish brown. Hunters used to catch them at it a lot, but the more time the dioreacts spend among us, the more they learn about our perception."
"What else?" inquired Megumi impatiently. Your hand with the cup of coffee froze at your lips, and you stared at the boy warily. "Forewarned is forearmed, no?" he quipped.
You tapped your fingernail on the cup thoughtfully. "Frank used to tell me that hunters used to catch dioreacts at the 'where ya from?' question. The poor things would just freeze in place with their mouths open, unable to say anything. Probably because humans don't have a single word to describe their homelands because we can't have that knowledge," you sighed sadly without realizing it. "Now the dioreacts have learned, and if you ask, they'll tell ya about all the places on Earth they've been, and they'll tell you their family tree too. I'm exaggerating," you added, noticing Megumi squinting at you incredulously. "But ya," you pointed a finger at the boy. "Don't ya dare pry into anyone in the void with questions. If it's a demon, it'll know right away what ya're up to, so it'll either run away immediately or kill ya," you slid an assessing glance at the boy. "In your case, it's more likely the latter. No offense."
You nonchalantly continued sipping your coffee, hoping it didn't hurt him too much. It didn't occur to you that Megumi had gone through similar words and phrases many times before and he hardly paid attention to yours. Why did it seem to him right now that a previously unsuccessfully nurtured stimulus was faintly stirring inside him, though? "Y/N?" hesitantly Megumi turned to you.
"Hmm?" you hummed detachedly.
"Is Gojo okay with that? Well, that you're training me."
"Yeah," you sighed, setting the empty mug back in the sink. "He grumbled a little, though... But he couldn't just throw ya into the basement with chains with a shout 'I won't let anyone have you'."
"Well, actually he could," Megumi muttered, wrinkling his nose squeamishly.
"But he didn't," you quipped.
"Yeah, he didn't," the boy agreed with you. "Thank you for that."
"I had nothing to do with it."
"That's what you think," the unfamiliar slyness in his voice sent shivers down your spine. "I talked to others, so... You know, we've decided that if we ever move out, you can keep him."
"Thanks," you snickered, and Megumi was already grinning openly. "Go ahead and make the muffins. When ya're done, I'll go over to Dany's and then we'll practice tonight."
Megumi turned sharply toward you. "What?" he blurted out grumpily. "What do you mean 'I'll go over to Dany's'? What about me? Is this some kinda joke to you?" glaring angrily at you, he pointed at his clothes that were almost completely covered in chocolate mixture.
"Ya're not much of a diplomat," you teased, making a face at him. "I gotta feeling her out first, and then ya can talk without me. Now let's get to work," you nodded toward the bowl of dough. 
You stood under the boy's angry gaze for a few more seconds before he went back to making muffins in silence. It was a good thing Megumi was silent, because if he'd said a word, the laughter you were carefully suppressing would have burst out. 
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It was a cute yet funny picture of Danielle weeding in the afternoon sun. The girl kept straightening the straw hat that had fallen off her head with her hands smeared in the ground – almost the same color as her bright sparkling hair.
You stood outside the backyard entrance, hesitant to open the wooden gate. Your hand clutched the package of homemade muffins - small but tasty - tighter to your chest, and the thought slipped into your head that if this treat won't help you, nothing would.
You opened the wicket with a deep breath, and Danielle reacted instantly, raising her head. Her hat flew off her head, and the girl, trying to steady it once again, stiffened in surprise. The hoe Dany was holding in her other hand fell to the ground along with the hat.
"Hey there, bun," you said, waving awkwardly at Danielle. "Before ya chase me away, I brought something in my defense," you informed jokingly, covering yourself with the treat package.
Maybe it was the physical exertion, but you wanted to believe that she did feel better. You wanted to squeeze her ruddy cheeks because in addition to the flushed red color, they had gotten a little chubbier. "Hey," you missed that kind tone and the way she was striding toward you to meet you. "I hope it's something edible," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.
Relief spread through your body as Danielle held out her arms to you. You gladly hugged her in return. "Like I don't know ya," you whispered into her hair and heard a soft giggle. "Let's sit down," you suggested and pulled Dany by the arm toward the garden bench that stood neatly against the wall of the house. Barely dragging her feet, Danielle made her way over to the bench, leaning her limp body against the wall. You sat down next to her and put the package on her lap, but she didn't move, half lying there with her eyelids closed. "Frank forced ya into?" you asked sympathetically.
"Yeah," Dany exhaled exhaustedly. "But there's an upside to it!" she braved it cheekily, as much as her strength allowed. "While ya're doing all this shit, all ya can think about is that ya can't wait for it to be over," Danielle said before she could finish - a laugh forming on her lips, and you chuckled in unison with her tired but still gleeful laughter as you admired her.
"He forced me too until I was about twelve," you smirked.
"How did ya get to escape this plantation?" inquired Danielle enviously.
"I rioted," you said belligerently, and the two of you giggled again. "I ripped up everything that was growing in the beds and stomped on it. Frank was so mad," you said, sucking in air through your teeth.
"How did ya even stay alive?" worried Danielle. 
"Shaya saved me," you said, getting nostalgic. "She hid me behind her while Frank threatened to whip me."
"And Shaya didn't do anything to ya?" asked Dany incredulously.
"Nope," you shook your head. "She took me to my room, and when I asked what she was gonna do to me, she said I'd already punished myself," you exhaled convulsively, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I spent the whole night agonizing and thinking about her words, trying to figure out what she meant. I didn't realize until this morning. I was the one sowing and weeding those damn beds," Dany opened her eyes slightly. She was watching you from under half-open eyelids - at the way your gaze roamed the garden across from you. The girl rarely heard the longing in your voice, and every such moment returned with an unaccustomedness in her heart that made it beat faster. "I want ya come back home with me," you asked quietly.
"I want it, too," Danielle muttered in embarrassment, closing her eyes again.
Her desire was reflected in your phone. Not a single call, not a single message. "Why don't I keep ya as a garden slave for a couple more weeks?" you blurted out indignantly. "It gives ya a zeal, I see."
With eyes already wide open, Dany jumped up. The box nearly flew off her lap. "No!" she begged, looking up at you and clutching the package back to her.
"If ya want something, you have to say it," you muttered indignantly. "Ya'd better open it," you said, nodding toward the box. "Ya were hungry, weren't ya?"
With a hesitant nod, Danielle slowly unwrapped the package. She didn't know whether it was the sight of the ridiculous chocolate muffins or the tart but sweet smell that clouded her mind faster. She grabbed one and swallowed it whole, oblivious to herself or her own name. You mentally thanked Megumi for his decision to take the smaller baking dish.
You coughed meaningfully, slyly examining your nails in the sunlight. "Ya know, I didn't actually make them."
"What?" she whimpered excitedly with her mouth full. "I said I'd come back, but I didn't say anything about a relationship with Megumi-"
"Yeah, yeah," you sarcastically interrupted her, carelessly waving her words away. "Sure."
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[June 19, 2020; 01:23am; hunters' hq]
Feeling the warmth of the couch was all your back had been asking for lately, and you'd been obediently fulfilling your body's desire despite your own. Your head rested peacefully in Kyle's lap, your eyes roaming the news feed on your phone.
You didn't notice how restlessly you fidgeted with your legs from time to time, not even the annoying sound of the soft material rustling could quiet you. Every time you fidgeted, you felt a soft scratching at the back of your head as you turned from one side to the other.
"What's wrong?" asked Kyle puzzled as you rolled over once again, sighing irritably.
"Everything's fine," you waved it off indifferently.
"Ya have a disgruntled face," he remarked, grinning.
You pulled yourself up and sat down, leaning back against the couch. "Rach only brought out two people," you rambled worriedly. "Only two, Kyle," you shoved a hand in his face with your index and middle finger raised. "That's an incredibly bad start."
Kyle intercepted your palm and kissed the pad of your finger. "Oh, come on," he laughed, looking at your perplexed face and releasing your hand. "It's a good start. She brought your new acquaintance out with her, by the way," he reminded you reasonably. "And Issu might bring more people out with him."
You turned and stared at the infirmary door, remembering the way Doc had slammed it shut in front of you and Kyle. Doc was an irritable, taciturn man, but the thought of how much work he'd have to do in the next few weeks made you shiver.
"...to the previous news. The incident that occurred in April this year in the nightclub N..."
Even though you were in your own thoughts, your skin began to itch painfully in places. You wanted to catch a glimpse of Nora, or Rachel, or that old lady whose name you couldn't ask - the old woman who'd come out of the void unconscious and ended up in the infirmary.
"...contacting the police station. Now, the police have suspended the investigation for unspecified reasons. In the following footage you can see a protest organized near the police station by the parents of the missing as well as concerned people..."
"Hey," Kyle called softly, tugging gently on your earlobe. You stirred, tore your gaze away from the infirmary door and dropped your head back into his lap. "Don't distress yourself. It's gonna be okay."
"I know," you exhaled gloomily. "It's just that I'm freaking out about being banned from the void and there's no way I can check to see if everything's okay."
"Oh, what bad guys we are," Kyle drawled sarcastically, pinching you again. "Taking care of your health."
"That's not what I meant," you muttered, waving his hands away. "Ya remember what Rach said after she came out of the void?"
"Yeah," Kyle nodded briefly. "That people are afraid to come out. They don't even believe Jonah."
"Exactly," you said. "Do ya remember any of this ever happening?" you tried to speak calmly, but you were out of breath.
"I'll still go on the raid after Issu, and I promise ya, I'll figure it out," he assured you softly, stroking your forehead with his thumb. "Don't worry."
"...at least twenty people. To date, eighteen of the missing have been identified..."
From the TV screen, neither pictures nor photographs looked at you. Ghosts. They wandered, hovering around you, but they dared not touch you. Against your better judgment, you felt their presence, felt their stares, felt even their silence. It felt like a dark silent whisper on your skin as if the ghosts were breathing right next to you. "Twenty-three," you said in a mesmerized whisper, looking at another picture of familiar features on the screen.
Kyle glanced fearfully at your face. It seemed pale in the light from the TV. "What?" he asked perplexedly.
You lifted yourself up again and sat up, tucking your legs under you, but you didn't do it as quickly as you had the first time. "Kyle, I haven't told ya everything," you said, guiltily hiding your gaze from his. "I think there's a diomorphea in there."
A second long silence made you look up. "Why didn't ya... Why didn't ya tell me at once?" there wasn't an ounce of accusation in his voice. Rather, a genuine misunderstanding of your disbelief.
"I was afraid ya'd tell Rach," you justified, looking at him dejectedly and shaking your head. "Ya know her, she would have just stormed in there and god knows what would have happened. Either she'd be dead, or a bunch of demons and with them the ones we're trying to save. Or both of it. I'm sorry," you shook your head harder.
Gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Kyle pulled you against him. "What did I promise ya just now?" he asked, leading you to think.
You rested your head on his shoulder, but you didn't dare take your eyes off the pictures. "That ya'll figure it out," you exhaled. "Kyle, ya can't keep fixing our fuck-ups forever."
"I'm your big brother," he grinned, stroking your back. "That's my job."
Wrapped in a blanket of warmth from a loved one, you couldn't help yourself. These people were still here with you, even if they didn't realize it. They were staring at you, drilling you, making you grit your teeth. You couldn't even cover your eyes because you'd just thought the russet-haired girl looking at you from the screen had blinked.
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[June 20, 2020, 20:01, Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture]
As you made your way along the roads of the busy evening city, you kept looking at your phone, for only maps helped you not to get lost in the stone jungle. Even though there were signboards at every turn, all those bright colors combined with the abundance of symbols and running from side to side to avoid hitting anyone in the crowd of people made your head spin.
You couldn't count the number of crosswalks you'd crossed, you didn't want to think about how many of them you'd crossed for nothing. Your desperate attempt to find a nightclub had taken you to unfamiliar places, and you stopped and sighed disappointedly, staring at your phone again, completely oblivious to the people you might be interrupting.
Disappointment was immediately replaced by bewilderment when a name popped up on your phone instead of maps. "Yeah?" you said hesitantly, bringing the phone to your ear.
"I can't leave you alone even for a minute, huh?" resented Gojo. "Where did you go?"
"I...," you started in confusion, looking around. "Uh," you muttered, turning around the other way, looking for clues. "I think I'm somewhere in Tokyo's downtown, but I'm not quite sure."
An irritated tongue cluck was heard on the other end. "What do you see?"
"Hmm," you pondered, continuing on your way. "I see a dental clinic," you looked over the hospital sign and cast a glance back over your shoulder. "Behind me is the Minami Hotel, I guess?" puzzled, you stopped at a crossroad. "There's something else around the corner that looks like a park and playground-"   
Someone's arms went around your waist. "Boo!" they shouted in your ear, but you didn't even flinch, just squeezed your eyes shut at the loud sound. "Hey, you could at least look scared," came a cranky voice from behind you. 
You tilted your head up, and instead of an offended face, you were met with a bright smile. "What, in public?" you asked hesitantly.
Gojo rubbed his nose against your forehead. A brief gesture that sent warmth through your limbs. "I'm not shy about expressing my lo-"
"I mean about the teleport," you interrupted quickly.
With an irritated snort, he let you out of his arms and you moved forward. "So where are we going?"
"To a nightclub," you replied carelessly.
"At your age?" resented Gojo, wrinkling his nose. "It's a little too late for that." 
You paid no attention to his words, just continued to look around at the signs, completely oblivious to the fact that you now had a tour guide beside you. "Ya wouldn't happen to know anything about what happened at Nightclub N, would ya? It's still on the news, even though it happened back in April."
"Oh," stunned Gojo. "I was there day after, but no curses or cursed energy was there." 
"And ya didn't tell me?" you huffed, glaring at him judgmentally.
"I didn't even think about it," he admitted honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "And you weren't back then," Gojo glanced at you, and seeing no anger or disappointment on your face, he exhaled in relief. "So what are we doing?"
"It would be a good idea to start by talking," you reasoned, looking ahead. "I had Meg do some snooping, and she found out that it's not just visitors who've been hit, but employees too. One, at least."
"So-so information," he grudgingly opined.
"Maybe," you agreed. "Better than nothing, though."
Surprisingly, things did go faster with Gojo, and you didn't feel so lost in the dust of the big city. You'd been wandering around that nightclub all this time, but for some reason you'd ignored the turn into the courtyard. He took your hand in his and led you to the right place in a few minutes - the best guide ever. 
You pulled a wireless earphone out of the case and put it in your ear. "Meg, turn it off," you had only one answer to Gojo's questioning look. "Cameras," you explained with a shrug.
Nothing stands out - your first thought when you found yourself at the front doors. There weren't even any neon signs in this place - a simple gawker would easily miss a place like this in the night. While you pondered, Gojo walked to the door. Opening it, he gestured for you to come inside. 
The first thing you encountered as you walked down the hallway dotted with plastic vegetation was the hostess desk. A woman in a white dress seemed to be filling out something, paying no attention to you. "Ahem," you coughed quietly, stepping closer to the counter.
The girl raised her head. "I apologize," she said sincerely, bestowing a welcoming smile. Her gaze focused as if she had just been pulled out of her thoughts. You nodded understandingly in response.
The hostess stared at you for a second, then looked behind you. Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and a blush appeared on her snow-white cheeks. It was obvious without words who she was admiring. "I apologize," she repeated, barely moving her eyes to you. "We're only open from ten p.m. onwards. Would you like to make a reservation in the VIP area?" she handed you one of the sheets she'd just filled out. "You can look over the seating and choose the one that best suits you."
"That's not why we're here," you said quietly and the corners of the woman's lips slowly but surely crept down.
She glanced furtively toward the dance area, which was behind a decorative grid. The grid was covered with flowers, but you could see the bar, where someone was already standing and looking in your direction. "If you're journalists, just go away," she whispered anxiously.
You took the sheet from her hands, and began to pretend to consider the seating plan. "Ya misunderstand," you assured her. "I'm a private investigator, I was hired by one of the families of the missing," the hostess shifted a concerned yet questioning look to Gojo. "Don't worry, it's just my comp-"
"Her husband," he stated, putting his arm around your shoulders. "Just family business."
"Well, or so...," you muttered, sighing. 
"Mochi, have you already chosen where we're gonna sit?" his voice was already too ringing at times, but this time it was as if Gojo was deliberately speaking louder than usual. "Smile," he addressed the girl, and in contrast, his words sounded very quiet. You glimpsed again at the bars - it seemed that those who stood there had ceased to be interested in you.
She put on a duty smile. "Reservations are optional if you want to visit the dance area," she said in a minted but sweet tone.
You pretended to stroke Gojo's forearm that wrapped around your collarbones. In one deft motion, you pulled the picture from inside pocket, placing it under the sheet you were holding. Placing the paper on the counter, you tapped a random spot. "I think we'll sit here," you pushed the sheet away. "Do ya know her?" your quite question caused the girl's ribcage to begin to heave heavily when she saw the russet-haired girl. You mentally scolded her for potentially attracting unnecessary attention. "She worked here." 
"Did her parents hire you?" the hostess fought her inner emotions for an outward smile. "I don't know," she whispered fearfully, though she was still smiling full-mouth. "I really don't know anything," her eyes glittered dangerously, and you carefully covered the picture with the paper. "Please, go away."
"Thanks," you said loudly and cheerfully, backing away from the counter. "See ya later," you nodded her goodbye and took Gojo's hand, and you headed toward the exit. 
Barely waiting until you were on the other side of the glass doors, he stopped right in front of you. "So that's it?" he lamented. "We're just gonna leave like this?"
"No need to draw unnecessary attention. She was scared enough. I thought she was about to cry," you sighed doomfully. "But I left her phone number on the back of the picture."
"Okay," he drawled, smiling slyly. "Now what?"
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After sneaking through a narrow alleyway and soiling your clothes in wet dust, you wandered around the back of the police station. Stopping at the wall of an adjacent building, you decided to exhale and think. Why was the hostess so scared? If it wasn't the employees at the bar, then who was standing there during off hours? Moreover, why did the girl only shake harder when she saw the picture?
From Gojo's perspective and in his opinion, you looked suspicious - two subjects loitering in the back of a police station. What was he supposed to do when he heard the back door click? Nothing but that - that's how he reassured himself as he pressed you against the wall. "Just play along, 'kay?" he whispered, facing your panicked incomprehension - you'd been pulled from your thoughts too abruptly. 
You nodded hesitantly, but you weren't reassured by his plan or his actions. For the moment Gojo cupped your cheek, you felt that his fingers trembled. "Have you ever kissed?" you couldn't hear the inherent curiosity in his voice, the only thing you could catch among the words he spoke was sincerity. "Take it off," he demanded, leaning his forehead against yours. "Take off your mask," his words and actions became more insistent - his hand pressed you against him with such force that it was physically hard to breathe. 
"Hey!" a sharp exclamation gave you the strength to push him away from you. "Girl, are you okay?" the police officer asked, flicking ash off his cigarette.
"Yeah," you assured him. "W-we just... Uh, we just forgot ourselves a little. I'm sorry," you said, taking another step away from Gojo.
"Kids...," the officer muttered. "You should go home and do this sort of thing," he admonished. Taking one last puff, the policeman put out the cigarette butt, tossed it in the trash can, and went inside.
"Uh, well," you sighed, making up for the lack of oxygen. Looking around the wall of the one-story police station, you noticed that there were two windowless passages - probably one of those rooms was what you needed.
Carefully making sure no one was looking in your direction from the windows, you moved closer to the wall, Gojo's confusion replaced in an instant by a prick of anger. He was immensely resilient, but even he was beginning to tire of your behavior. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
"And how would we get there?" you muttered to yourself, squinting at the brickwork.
Of course, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease you. It was beyond him. "What, are you out of energy because of your shaky legs?" he asked in a teasing tone, coming up behind you.
"No, it's just that I can't teleport to a point I haven't seen before," your seriousness made him roll his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw his own brain. "There could be anything in there, after all. A box, another wall, or an iron pole. And I don't really wanna become a part of that."
"What a weakling you are," Gojo grimaced, grabbing you under the armpits and lifting you into the air. When he released you, you were already standing on the floor. Indoors.
It was dark here - not a single light bulb shone, but even so you could make out a bunch of metal lockers against the walls, a few long benches, and some scattered things. Locker room. No hits. Next room across the hall, then.
You went to the door and stood still, listening. There were no voices, no footsteps, no rustling. You gripped the knob and pulled gently, turning it. When the door wouldn't budge, you applied force and pulled a few more times. Nothing.
A tired, condescending sigh came from behind you. Gojo grabbed your shoulder and pulled you aside, then grabbed the handle of the door and opened it with a quiet crack.
In the darkness, you met only his arrogant smile. "Congratulations," you said sarcastically. "When they see this, everyone will realize someone's been loitering around here." 
"And this is your gratitude?" whispered Gojo indignantly. 
Instead of answering and bickering, you grabbed his hand and dragged him as quietly as possible down the hallway in the right direction. When you came to the next door, he moved you into the room without thinking or warning.
That's what it took to get to the evidence room, but it didn't look the way you'd imagined. The shelves were more for show, for there were boxes and packages scattered carelessly on them, just as there were on the floor.
Gojo picked up one of the clear bags, and after looking it over, handed it to you. You grinned approvingly when you saw the date and place written in black marker. 
You silently began to scour the shelves and floor in search of at least the year you needed. The place was a mess, but systematicity still seemed from around the corner, slyly peering at what you were doing. You had already made it to January, and not wanting to miss anything, you took your time. "What makes you think demons are involved here anyway?" asked Gojo, setting another box aside. 
"I saw them," you replied, scrutinizing the dates. "I saw those people right before I came out of the void."
"That's how," he replied, catching a glimpse of you. His tense shoulders relaxed every time he saw you start to put on weight. He'd already gone through almost the entire March, and after tossing aside a few more unwanted plastic bags, he got to the right one. "Hey," he quietly called out to you. "Is this it?"
You took the box in your hands.
#413091
April 6, 2020
Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Nightclub N
Sealed
"It is," you answered without much joy. As you weighed the box in your hands, you looked up at Gojo with a puzzled look. "What kinda mockery is this?" you asked warily, setting the overly light box on the floor. Breaking the seal and opening it, you pursed your lips in frustration.
There was almost nothing, just a few cigarette butts with lipstick marks, a couple of bottles, a folding knife, bloody napkins, but, remarkably, one bag of white pills. "Not only did the police shut down the investigation, but the club was still working while the investigation was ongoing, now there's no evidence. Who's protecting them?" you wondered, reaching for the bag of pills.
"Probably the one who dragged people into the void," Gojo suggested, trying to find anything else on the bottom. 
"Well, or at least someone closely associated with them. It wouldn't be a bad idea to find the owner of the club," you considered the pills, but there was nothing remarkable on them. Just a pure white color. "If the owner is aware of what's going on and he isn't a fool, there's probably some subsidiary company attached to the club, followed by the parent company, and the real names in that holding company are no longer to be found," you opened the bag and held it up to your nose. Nothing. Frowning puzzled, you slipped the packet to Gojo. "Smell anything?"
As soon as he brought it to his face, he immediately pulled it away, pinching his nostrils. "God... The smell is nice, but it's so pungent that...," he stammered, wiping away the tears that came to his eyes. "Put that away," he said and threw the bag at you.
You caught him deftly, and you and the pills stared at each other. The gears of your mind whirred again. You knew of only one demon capable of such brazen machinations right in front of everyone's eyes. If the pills contained black orchid that didn't bode well because in small quantities it was like a drug that induced a state of euphoria, and judging by the number of pills, the demon was obviously not alone in that club.
You glanced at the broken seal - eventually they'd find out that someone had been digging around here. The question was whether they'd find out who it was. "Let's get out of here," you said to Gojo and was about to move towards the door, but with the edge of your thief eye you caught a shine. "O-oh, what do we have here," you drawled mesmerized, reaching for the sealed bag containing the necklace. 
"Are you crazy?" blustered Gojo, intercepting your hands. "We're not stealing evidence!" you snorted meekly but grudgingly, wrenching your hands free and quickly hiding them in your pockets, which made him squint his eyes suspiciously. "Empty your pockets," Gojo demanded in a commanding tone, to which you only flinched. "I said empty them!" he exclaimed, and despite your resistance, he did find what he was looking for, but not under the right conditions. A pair of gold rings. Gasping with indignation, he tossed them farther into a pile of boxes. "We're not stealing evidence! Geez, adults once told me not to get with the wrong crowd, but here I am," he whimpered, running a hand through his snow-white hair. 
As he lamented, you couldn't stop the process - thoughts raced, each one trying to overtake the other. You couldn't hear the key turning in the locks or the quiet footsteps because of the silent noise. "Hands up," you raised your head, only to be met with an unfamiliar face and a gun pointed in your direction. "I said hands up!"
"Hey, hey," you justifiably rambled, raising your hands. "We can explain-"
"We?" barked the police officer. "Girl, are you out of your mind?" You barely had time to turn your head back before you heard the safety click, but even that couldn't alarm you as much as the realization that there was no one behind you. "Face the wall," the officer ordered, muzzle pointing at the wall.
You went obediently to the wall, and when you were almost there, you were pushed against it. Holding you by the neck with one hand, the policeman snapped your arms, and there was a clinking sound. Handcuffs.
If someone asked you at the beginning of the day how you'd spend your evening, you could list a bunch of options - watching a TV show, meeting with insiders, chasing the next artifact, sitting around a campfire with Kyle or Rachel, having a cup of tea or even a glass of wine - but you'd never guess how you'd actually spend it.
Part of your evening consisted of traveling to the holding cell at gunpoint.
When your handcuffs were removed, your phone, belt and earrings were taken away, the bars slammed shut behind you with a deafening clang. You pressed your face between the steel bars. "Hey," you called out to the departing cop. "I'm entitled to one phone call."
"Why don't you get a lawyer, too?" snickered the duty officer.
"Preferably. But ya'll need it if ya don't let me call," you said nonchalantly, keeping a friendly attitude.
Of course, you could have vanished from the cell as soon as he left, but you didn't want to be known as a fugitive on news programs across the country.
The man paused for a moment, thinking about something, and then turned back to you. With his piercing gaze boring into you and his hand on his holster, he handed you the phone, and as soon as you picked it up, it rang.
You shrugged your shoulders and backed away from the bars to avoid having it taken from you. "That'll count as your call," the man warned you.
You brought the phone to your ear, mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you. "Say please," Gojo scoffed from the other side. "Come on," he coaxed, taunting you. "Say please and maybe I'll get you out." 
"I hope ya're pleased with yourself," were all the words that you could muster, stepping over your pride. "Please."
You heard neither confirmation nor another round of teasing; only short beeps. Despondently, you handed the phone to the officer, and as long as you had strength left, you clung to the iron bars and listened to every action that took place. The police officer seemed to be watching something, and every now and then, you heard the clatter of a mug against the table.
It seems like five minutes or fifteen have passed - you can't count in a cramped cell without a clock. The front door slammed, and loud footsteps sounded. "Please excuse my wife," a familiar chirp tickled your ears. "She's having a seasonal exacerbation."
***
You had already traveled a great distance, leaving the police station behind, but you hadn't said a word, which amused Gojo and worried him at the same time. Anyway, you still let him hold your hand, which meant you weren't that angry.
He was annoyed that he couldn't read your emotions because half of your face was hidden - it was like ripping half of a book out before he could read the rest of it. The question was no longer whether you were angry or hurt, but did you feel anything at all? "Well," he began slyly. "Are you gonna sulk like that?" 
"I can't believe it," you said reproachfully, shaking your head. "Ya left me. Ya left me, abandoned me, humiliated me-"
"Is that how you talk to the man who bailed you out?" laughing, he stopped and stood right in front of you.
"It was a bribe!" you retorted indignantly.
"I'd do it again," he admitted solemnly, looking haughtily and cheerfully into your eyes.
"I know," you whispered. "But I thought we were best friends," he didn't notice the triumph replaced by panic the first time he saw your wounded gaze.
"No, no," he rambled anxiously, gently cupping your cheeks. "It's just a joke, really, I was just kidding-"
"I would never do that to ya," you managed to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You wrapped your palm around his - the one that pressed harder against your face. You bit your lip in frustration. "I would never leave ya," seeing the glint in your averted gaze made everything inside him flip - from his soul to his organs. That wasn't the kind of glint he wanted to see. "I know I don't act the way ya'd like me to sometimes, but- Oh," your face changed immediately, from sadness to pure curiosity, and you let go of his hands and stepped around him, heading somewhere.
He was one-step away from bursting into tears himself, but your actions have left him stumped. After a moment of standing as if you were still here, he turned around. You were striding briskly toward the huge red glowing sign that read 'Spicy Dumplings'.
One might have thought that this was not enough to stomp on his heart, but then, as luck would have it, he thought that it had become too light in his pocket. His purse were missing. "Seriously?" he sighed, throwing his head back and staring up at the night sky covered in light noise. "There are so many people in the world, why her?" the stars were hidden - the stars were silent.
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Megumi had seen his reflection in the mirror countless times and just as many times he'd experienced nothing - a man like a man, a person who didn't stand out, but now, as Kyle walked around him in circles with a measuring tape around his neck and pins stuck in his shirt, the boy felt genuinely excited.
Even though Megumi felt like a mannequin being abused, occasionally getting needles under his skin by accident, he still thought it was worth it. Megumi glanced at the mask made for him. Even without filters, it looked heavy, but the precise curves of its rigid material made it somewhat dangerous.
The boy jerked when Kyle once again grazed the skin on his shoulder with the pin. "Sorry," Kyle muttered. "I'm not very good at this."
"Then why don't others do it?" grunted Megumi, staring at himself in the mirror again.
The man only chuckled - no offense intended. "May I remind ya," he began softly in between. "Ya don't have to do this."
"I know," Megumi replied stubbornly. "I don't know how to do anything else, though."
"Do ya?" wondered Kyle sincerely. "What, no hobbies?"
Megumi looked at Kyle as if he was hearing those words for the first time. The man pressed his lips together understandingly and continued his tailor's work. Seeing another section of loosely dangling fabric, he pinched it down the boy's body and secured it with a pin. "Ya know, when ya get back, we can go fishing with together," he suggested light-heartedly, pulling out the now unnecessary needle and, finding no better option, jammed it between his teeth. "Or I could teach ya how to play the guitar," as Kyle cheerfully enumerated, Megumi only frowned his eyebrows harder. "In a pinch, we can weave beaded bracelets with ya," he laughed and his soft, deep voice floated around the room. "Okay, well, try this on," Kyle said, handing him the mask.
The mask was a little heavier than it looked, and Megumi held it for a moment before taking a deep jagged breath and leaning it against his face. The mask, making a clicking sound, sat perfectly. "How's that? Fine?" inquired Kyle, not giving up on trying to get Megumi to talk.
"Yeah," Megumi replied indifferently, and his voice came strangled and mechanical, but Kyle was used to that. "Just hot in this uniform."
"That's what ya saying now," Kyle pointed out. "Ya'll thank me a hundred times in the void."
"You?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
The room went up in flames in an instant as if everything was lit up in red flames, but barely had the flash subsided when Megumi saw that it was Kyle's hands that were burning. "Me," Kyle said cheekily but still jokingly. "I'm the one in charge of thermoregulation here."
Megumi stared mesmerized at the man's hands - a second ago, they were still burning, burning as bright and hot as his disheveled gut. "I want that, too," the boy muttered quietly.
"Too, huh?" Kyle smirked meaningfully. "So ya okay with everything else?" turning away in embarrassment, Megumi tried to pull the mask off, but it wouldn't budge. He kept tugging at it while Kyle watched his desperate attempts. "Lemme help ya, you're gonna rip your face off," the man offered. "There are buttons on the sides," he informed, pulling the mask off the boy.
"You couldn't tell me before, could you?" an indignant Megumi panted, rubbing the line of his chin.
"My bad. Sorry," Kyle couldn't help it - the smile wouldn't leave his face. "By the way, uh… How's it going... with Dany?"
Megumi hated it when someone poked their nose into his life, much less his personal life. Shutting down, withdrawing into himself was the first reaction brought on by years of building up an internal psychology, but now that Megumi saw the unfamiliar warm gaze, he was glad that there was at least one person who was genuinely interested in his inner state. "I don't know, she doesn't talk to me," the boy said sullenly. "It would be better if she just told me she doesn't like me anymore," he added quietly.
"And how is that better?"
"Then I'd know for sure I don't stand a chance anymore," Megumi despaired. "I've been trying to catch up to her in training, but she's even running faster than me. I can't look for her in these damn woods," Megumi muttered, pulling off the top of his uniform and handing the fabric to Kyle.
Kyle knew that he shouldn't laugh at problems - neither big ones, nor small ones, nor their description. He was trying his best to remain silent now, only nodding significantly. "Well...," he drawled. "So there's definitely motivation to train even harder now."
"People have their limits," Megumi frowned, tugging on his home t-shirt with a jerk. "I think I've reached mine."
"Ya'd best remember well what ya just said," the man said sternly. "Remember it well and forget it. Otherwise, if I hear ya say that again, we'll stop training ya."
"And I'll continue without you," Megumi stubbornly persisted. "I may not be in control of it yet, but with or without you, I can still walk into the void."
"And die," Kyle finished for him, though the boy's sentence didn't require it. "Ya know what that's called? Cut off nose to spite face," seeing Megumi's haggard face, Kyle softened. "Come on," he paternally patted the boy on the top of his head. "How about this. When ya get back, I'll set up a rendezvous for ya and Dany."
Megumi hummed incredulously, shifting from foot to foot. "Can you really make it?"
Kyle didn't know what he was signing up for. Persuading a stubborn girl and trying to change her mind was a deep hole that couldn't be climbed out of with walls or even a ladder, but when he saw the faint smile flash across Megumi's face, he knew it was worth it. "I'll try."
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You were already cooing with the waiter when you'd been apart for a minute – that was what Gojo saw in his mind, distorted by an unknown feeling. When the corners of your eyes crinkled once more, he felt an unfamiliar tingle under his ribs. It was directed, burning. 
In two strides, he'd covered the distance from the front door to the table you were at and plopped down across from you. "Baby, could you not run away from me like that anymore?" shifting his gaze from you to the waiter, it went from soft to steely, all the blue was gone. The waiter was embarrassed by his direct gaze, and after glancing at you and seeing your nod, he hurriedly retreated to the kitchen. "So much for service," he muttered, looking after the waiter. "I didn't even order anything."
"I ordered ya mild shrimp dumplings and two cheesecakes," you said, looking at his profile - something in the air felt spicy from more than just the smell of the local sauce.
He didn't realize whether he liked it or not that you knew him well, the only thing that bothered and hurt him was that he didn't know you. Not even that. He knew something about you, but only from other people's words and among them was none of yours. "Well?" he inquired, finally turning in your direction. "What's next?" 
"Cholesterol plaques," you chirped in pleasant anticipation. "I've been eating nothing but soup and porridge for weeks now, one more day like this and I'll hang myself."
"I'd look at that," Gojo drawled detachedly.
"Is something wrong?" you worried. "It's like ya angry."
He was silent for a few more good moments, staring out the window and tapping his finger on his chin. "Frank told me you've been missing for three years. What have you been doing?" you swallowed all the words out of surprise and stared at him stunned. "What?" asked Gojo indifferently. "You know everything about me, I know nothing about you. That's not very fair." 
"It's not like I have a choice," you tried to gently remind him.
"Really?" his voice remained calm, but it still made you want to squirm in your seat. "My negligent students tied you up and made you listen to all the facts about me?"
"It's dif-"
"Different, yeah," he interrupted, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair - away from you. An inner voice yelled at him to shut his mouth, too bad Gojo was deaf at that moment. "Tell me, what does human meat taste like? I heard somewhere that it tastes like chicken, is that true?" your heart was definitely tied with fishing line and started to squeeze, and if not, why did you feel like blood was dripping off it? "Oh, come on," he laughed, seeing the subtle change on your face. "Well, you ate a couple people, who among us is not without sin?" 
You looked around, almost unable to see anything through the haze, but there didn't seem to be anyone near you. "If we don't shut this down, I'm gonna eat ya too," you tried to guffaw, keeping your face straight. "Alive."
"I'm just trying to get to know you better," Gojo stared at you, trying to catch everything he could - gestures, facial expressions, anything. Every time he caught something he wanted, satisfaction involuntarily spread through his body. Paradoxically, the thought of enjoying it made him sick, but he couldn't help it - your hypocrisy was wearing him down. You were the one who'd first said you'd never revisit the subject, and yet every day with every unspoken word, you reminded Gojo that you didn't trust him. "I get that you're trying to seem mysterious, but have you ever wondered how it looks?" he chuckled sarcastically. "You look like a wretched runaway," you sat up, listening and memorizing every word. "Maybe I should tell you what happens to people who don't open up to anyone?" he leaned closer to you as if he wanted to tell you a secret that was known only to him. "Let me better demonstrate, though," Gojo got up from the table, and still looking at you, distanced himself a couple steps away. "Look at that," he snapped his fingers, pointing to his now empty seat and grinned contentedly. "You're all alone."  
Gojo didn't try to get to know you better because then he could have asked you what your favorite color was, or movie, or music, but no. He got under your skin. Deliberately and painfully, choosing words that scratched and bit, and you didn't even have time to ask 'why' because his back, which had already disappeared behind the front door, would hardly have answered your question.   
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[June 30, 2020, 23:14, hunters' hq]
[10:59pm] You: We are going on a raid in an hour
[10:59pm] You: Megumi will text ya when he gets back
This message, like the previous ones, remained delivered but unread. Looking at it again, you went back to your routine. Books, lots of medical supplies, and more dry rations were what lay on the table. You and Kyle spread it all out into gym bags as compactly as possible, good thing you could carry twice as much into the void this time - thanks to your new apprentice.
Worries and doubts scrabbled at your mind as you put another packet of ibuprofen in your bag - did you tell Megumi everything you wanted to? Had you conveyed everything to him? Did he understand everything? The only thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't let him out of your sight. The first few times, at least.
You never missed an opportunity to remind the boy that if anything went wrong, he should run and not look back, and each time you said it aloud, you caught an increasingly annoyed look in his eyes. You believed that at the right moment, your words would play an annoying song in Megumi's head and he would do what you wanted him to do, even if it was against his own will. "Okay," Kyle pulled you out of your thoughts. "I got rid of most of the wardens, but others could come, be careful," he admonished you for the umpteenth time. "Remember they have been abused badly, more so than the others have ever told us, that's why they so afraid to come in contact. But I've prepared the ground," he poked you quietly with his shoulder. "Since Rachel took out three people, Issu will probably take out as many more, which means there will be at least two more in the hut," he wasn't discouraged, and you hummed in response.  "Well," Kyle began in between, seeing your state of mind. "He still hasn't called?"
"Busy, I guess," at this point you ratted yourself out, for your brother didn't even give a name.
"I bet," Kyle muttered, pressing the contents of the bag to make some more room. "Why is your face long?"
"Not long, but focused," you brushed it off.
"Yeah, as ya say. Ya've been frowning for over a week. Even if I can't see it, I can feel it. And he hasn't been here in all that time," even though Kyle didn't like Gojo, there was a touch of sympathy in his voice. "What happened between ya two?" 
"Nothing happened," you retorted. "And nothing's gonna happen," you added, softening. "He just... Dunno, he just got mad all of a sudden. Maybe it's because I don't tell him anything about me or what happened to me," you sighed sadly, your actions becoming slower and moodier.
Kyle was angry. You'd never told anyone anything, not even your loved ones, so where did Gojo get this idea of his uniqueness? "He'll get over it," he muttered. "If he doesn't, the hell with him. Let him cling to someone else." 
"Ya'd be happy to," you said, grinning slyly. Maybe there was truth to Kyle's words, but you couldn't wash away that sticky acrid feeling with water or soap. Gojo must have felt the same way then. You were both disappointed in you. "We forgot the sugar," you said, going through the supplies on the table. "I'll get it." 
At your brother's concerned look, you walked out of the workroom, went up the stairs and down the hallway. You were already a foot away from the fridge, only the sickening feeling of suddenly soaked socks made you cringe. "What the...," you squeaked, taking a step back.
There was water under the refrigerator. In spite of the puddle, you walked over to it and jerked open the door - not even a light bulb on. "Great," you mumbled to the empty room, and jerked the door back shut.
As if you didn't have enough troubles already, now you had to buy a new fridge. You liked it, though. It might be red, it might have daisies on it, but you were too used to it. "How much longer ya gonna look for sugar?" Kyle asked rhetorically, leaning against the doorjamb and watching you search the drawers for a rag. "Come on," he walked over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders to ward off all the fuss. Kyle glanced first at the refrigerator and then at the puddle that had spread beneath it. "That thing was barely hanging on. I'll walk ya out, and then I'll clean this place up."
Something was pressing against your shoulders. It clearly wasn't Kyle's hands. They might have looked massive, but everyone close to him knew how gentle the man could be.
The door creaked open on the second floor. "Please don't go," a pleading voice made your heart clench. "Ya're not ready yet, ya've had too little practice," came the sound of footsteps - some hurried, others hesitant.
Everything fell into place when the two persons finally came down - Megumi and Daniel. She grabbed his sleeve, asking him to stop, but he didn't even look in her direction. Yanking his arm out of her weak grip, he stood beside you. "Y/N," the girl pleaded. "Please tell him he's not ready."
"But I already told him he's coming with me today."
"W-what?" she asked in a stammering voice, looking at you as if you'd plunged a dagger under her ribs. "No-no-no," she shook her head desperately. "Why didn't ya ask me?"
You raised an eyebrow uncomprehendingly. "Should I have?" you asked indifferently. "If ya'd given him a chance to talk to ya once, maybe ya would have found out sooner."
"Don't ya fucking dare put the blame on me!" she shouted, and the outburst made the tears she'd been holding back roll down her cheeks. "Ya owed it to me to tell me!" her ringing voice began to break. "Ya took my mother away from me," she muttered. "Y-ya took my father from me," she continued to squeeze the words out of her through all the pain and hardship. "Now ya want him too?"
"Dany, not in public-"
"Not in public?!" she yelled. "He could die out there and all ya're worried about is me telling about your sins?" she laughed bitterly, wiping her wet face with her hands.
"Megumi, go to the workroom," you said softly, nudging him toward the exit. The boy hesitated a few steps and stopped, but you weren't looking at him.
"Now ya wanna take my boyfriend too," it wasn't a question anymore. It was a statement. A weak, quiet assertion.
"Dany, please calm down," Kyle gently tried to reassure her, cautiously stepping closer to her. "Megumi's gonna be fine-"
"Back off," she pulled away sharply from Kyle.
"Should I mention that he's no longer your boyfriend?" if there had been thread in the room, you would have sewn your mouth shut. There weren't, though. "You dumped him, remember?"
Danielle's rage didn't disappear - it just became as quiet as the girl's tears. "I hate ya," the words were almost impossible to hear, but you understood everything from her barely moving lips. "I hate ya so much that not even your death will make me love ya again."
Before she turned away from you, you saw the helpless anger in her eyes. You watched in a daze as she went up to the second floor on weak legs and then disappeared from sight. "Dany," Kyle called out to her, forcing you out of your stupor.
You quickly followed her upstairs and sighed as you realized you hadn't made it in time - the door to her room had already slammed shut. You banged on it with all your might. "Dany, open up!" instead of the usual words or silence, you were met with a ragged sob. You and Kyle looked over at each other anxiously. "Danielle!" you groaned again. "If you don't open it, I'm gonna kick the fucking door down!" you warned.
Your eyes blurred as her sobs subsided.
There was a rustle of sheets followed by quiet footsteps. The lock of the door clicked.
You were greeted by your loved one's face, but it was very different from the one you'd seen in the kitchen. No more anger, no more rage - just disheveled blond hair, red puffy eyelids, and grief. "Dany, I-"
You were interrupted by your own phone, and you almost whimpered in frustration. You glanced at the screen, and the evening's call from that person didn't bode well. It was Rachel.
"Answer it," she said weakly. "It must be very important," you didn't get a word out before she closed the door quietly in your face. Kyle turned the knob with a barely perceptible movement to leave a small gap.
You pressed the screen with force, and only a miracle saved it from cracking. "Speak," you snapped into the phone.
"Ah- H-hey," even if Rachel hadn't stuttered, you'd have realized she was drunk. "I can't re- relocate. I can't catch a cab either. Get me out of here," she whined.
"Okay, Kyle will pick you up-"
"No!" she yelled into the phone. "If ya don't get me out of there, I swear ya will be no longer my fucking sister," Rachel hissed.
"Rach, I've got a raid-"
"I'm supposed to care about that?" she hiccupped angrily. "Kyle always has to do everything for ya, doesn't he? Kyle this, Kyle that- Hey! Hey, asshole!," she was still yelling, but her voice was muffled. "Ya blind? No? Then maybe I'm nothing to ya?"
You and Kyle looked at each other grimly - even from here, your brother could hear the mayhem going on at the other end of the phone. The crack of wood, broken glass, shouts, muffled thuds - you squinted your eyes at every sound. "Hey," Rachel's voice was back to ringing, distinct and drunken. "Anyway, pick me up already. I rarely see ya, I feel like I don't even have a sister."
You didn't get a chance to ask where she was. Rachel just dropped the call. "What kinda day is this," you whispered in a broken, shaky whisper, rubbing your hot forehead with the palm of your hand, still staring at the phone screen.
Kyle wrapped his fingers around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Go," he ordered, trying to ignore your glistening eyes. "It's okay, just go get Rachel."
"But what about-"
"Today was supposed to be my shift anyway," he reminded you, hugging you. "Ya'll just go after me."
"Alright, then tell Megumi we'll be leaving in three days," you nodded briefly, snuggling up to him.
"Nah, he's waited long enough," he laughed. "I can't stand the even more sullen face he has now," feeling you clinging to his t-shirt, he tried to reassure you as best he could and knew how. He pulled you even tighter against him and burrowed into your hair. "It's been so long," he whispered. "It's high time ya learned to believe in us."
"Okay," you exhaled raggedly, unable to tear yourself away from your brother. "Take care of him. Take care of yourself, too. Please," the glimpse of black streaks creeping up your fingers made you pull away from him. Kyle kissed your forehead briefly, but you felt his lips linger on your skin a little longer than usual.
You took a couple steps away from him, and after taking another look at him, you turned around and headed for the stairs. "Y/N?" he called out to you.
You were so expecting it that you turned to him again without thinking. "Yes?" you asked with hope in your voice.
He winked slyly. "See ya," he waved goodbye, and you caught the glint of his silver bracelet.
"See ya," you giggled, waving back at him.  
As you walked away, you tried to keep a confident gait, but some thing pressed on your shoulders again.
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Half the bar was trashed, no customers, only one redheaded girl sitting on a stool with her head on the table, either asleep or unconscious. After leaving Kyle, you called her a dozen times, and on the millionth call, you were swearing at everyone and everything. After you'd gotten her on the phone through your despair, you'd gotten her address, and there you were, standing there, among the shards of mugs and chips from tables and chairs.
Under the wary gaze of the man in the black shirt, you walked over to Rachel and shook her by the shoulder. She mumbled inarticulately. "Do you know her?" he asked sternly.
"Yeah," you replied indifferently, still trying to rouse your sister.
"All right," said the manager. "Then I'm calling the police," he informed.
"Please don't get the police," you begged resignedly. "I'll pay for everything, just... Really, let's not do that. I'll leave you a phone number," you said, picking up one of the surviving napkins from the table and turning around to face the man. "Do you have a pen?"
He looked at you incredulously from head to toe, but your earrings seemed to convince him. He handed you a pen, and you quickly wrote your number on a napkin. "Here," you held out the phone number to him. "You can check it out."
Done. He dialed the number you had written, and your phone rang. "I'll send you the bill," the manager said formally. "Now get her out of here before she trashes the surviving half of the bar."
"Yeah, just...," you swallowed uncertainly. "I'll just bring her to her senses," the manager nodded, but didn't move. When you looked at your sister again, rage came over you, but remembering that you were in a public place, you immediately nipped it in the bud.
Grabbing Rachel by the scruff of her neck, you dragged her into the restroom. She struggled sluggishly and mumbled something, but you paid no attention. Kicking open the door, you tossed her right into the sink. "Did ya have fun, bitch?" with helplessness, your voice started to break again. You opened the faucet, and to your delight, ice-cold water came out of it.
You held Rachel's hair with your hand and tried to keep her head close to the stream, otherwise she'd just slide to the floor; with your other hand you scooped up the water and smeared it right over her drunken red face. "Do ya even remember ya have a son? Why aren't ya at his place?" you began to gasp along with her - she from the water, you from despair.
"I can't see him-" she stammered and choked, and you wondered if it was really the alcohol, the water, or her own words. "I-I'm gonna throw up," she practically forced the words out of her, choking on the water.
Whimpering, you pulled her hair and dragged her straight to the toilet stall. As soon as her head was bent over the toilet, everything started coming out of her. She coughed and spit, and you held her unruly hair back, even though the only thing you wanted to do right now was drown her in her own vomit. "Are ya having fun now? Do ya like living like this?"
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and the sounds of vomiting were heard again. "I... I won't do it again."
You bit your lip, almost tearing it off - how many times had you heard those words, and there was no truth to them, like wandering through a dark forest without a light, looking for a path. It was the same thing over and over again. "Wait here," you said, not sure why - she couldn't have disappeared in her condition.
Leaping out of the restroom and grabbing the first whole glass you could find, you went back in and filled it with water. "Drink," you commanded, shoving the glass under your sister's nose.
"I don't wanna," she tried to push your hand away weakly.
"I said drink," you grabbed her hair again, forcing her face up. As the water poured into her open mouth, Rachel leaned over the toilet again, choking.
They didn't want to leave you alone, the ringing of the phone hit your ears again, making you grit your teeth. "Speak."
"Young lady, what kinda tone is that?" resented Frank. Your insides dropped as you felt Rachel was about to throw up again.
"Sorry, Frank, I didn't see who was calling," you said absently, turning away and putting the receiver away from the source of the noise. "Look, lemme call ya back in an hour, 'kay? We're just at the bar with Rachel, it's not really convenient to talk right now."
"One hour," the man snorted angrily and hung up.
"Thanks," Rach mumbled and as you watched this, you slid down the wall, falling to the cold tile. Looking at her sweaty face and the wet red strands sticking to it, you were furious that you couldn't do anything about it. But if you couldn't do anything about it, then why were you even bothering with it? "I kinda feel better," she mumbled more clearly already, wiping her lips. "Let's go home."
Sighing, you grabbed her under the armpits, forcing her to stand. Rachel leaned on you like a personal prop, and you waddled away from the bar to the judgmental stares. When you reached the alley, you pulled your sister tighter against you.
"Relocate."  
You fell onto the soft bed in your sister's room just as you'd been in the alley a second ago - tired, in dirty clothes and shoes. When you sensed something wrong, you moved Rach to the edge of the bed and rolled her onto her side, and went to the bathroom to get a basin, pour some water into a glass, and grab some micellar water.
Before Rachel threw up again, you managed to put the basin on the floor. Putting everything else on the nightstand, you began to undress her. Clumsily pulling off her sneakers, you couldn't lift her torso to pull down her pants. "Help me already," you groaned, tugging at her legs.
Grumbling to herself, Rachel lifted her hips, and you yanked off her jeans with. You realized you didn't have the energy for outerwear - let her sleep like that. Rach was still stirring restlessly, apparently never having fallen into slumber.
You sat down next to her, and after soaking a cotton ball in micellar water, you began to wash off her makeup. "Ya mad?" she asked weakly.
"Not really," you lied, trying not to take the anger out on her face.
You were smearing mascara and eyeliner all over her cheeks, and no one really knew how much absorbent cotton and micellar water it took you to wash it all off. Rachel was already breathing normally, though she was lying in an uncomfortable position - her right arm oddly bent over her face. But she seemed to be asleep.
You rolled her onto her side again, and praying that she would stay that way until morning and not choke on her own vomit, tried to crawl quietly off the bed. "Don't go," she begged quietly, grabbing at your sweater. "Lie with me for a while."
"Okay," you gave in to her helpless pleas and gently lay down on the other side of the bed.
Who knows how much strength it took for her to turn around to face you? "I miss ya," she sobbed.
You realized she wasn't talking to you at all. "I know. Go back to sleep."
There was nothing left in the room but your breathing. As she fell asleep, you knew that tomorrow Rachel would have a headache, and she would snap at everyone she met. You watched her face sink deeper and deeper into the pillow, her occasional smacking of her lips, her frown, and reassured yourself that maybe she was dreaming something good this time.
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The warning signs were scattered around the kitchen. To be more precise, they were sitting there. Director Yaga stared in amazement at you coming down from the second floor, for he had been informed of your absence. "Mr. Director," you greeted him in a surprised but tired manner, glancing around at the others. There was Shoko, standing at the open window, blowing cigarette smoke, Yuji, who didn't look up from his desk, and Megumi, who had finally returned, alive and well. "Back?" you asked the boy, grinning approvingly. "Good. Go rest."
You probably said it to yourself - you were barely thinking. Automatically shuffling your feet, you headed for the workshop. "Y/N," a distressed voice stopped you.
Your face contorted instantly. Your eyes squeezed shut on their own and your lips pressed into a thin line against your will. 'Don't ya do this to me,' you begged silently someone who wasn't in this room.
Wiping the pain from your face with your hand, you took the only acceptable emotion you could muster. Benevolence. You turned around, and walking over to the table and standing in front of Megumi, you continued to pretend that everything was fine. "What is it?"
You refused to see the fear in Itadori's eyes, but you couldn't help but notice the fear in the black-haired boy's young features. Maybe if you hadn't looked so straight ahead, maybe if you'd known to look away, you wouldn't have seen the guilt.
Megumi refused to look you in the eyes - he was drilling a point near your neck, hiding his hands under the table. "I...," he began, but a gasp knotted his throat, and he clenched his teeth with such force that his tense jaw showed through his skin. "I'm... I'm- I'm so sorry," let it be his words - he was holding it together just fine, unlike Itadori. As soon as Megumi finished speaking, tears began to stream down Yuji's cheeks. It felt like molten metal had been poured into your lungs instead of air. It filled you from the inside out, rising higher and higher, coming up to your throat. "It's my fault," he admitted, reaching his hand out from under the table and handing you a silver bracelet.
You wanted to ask the boy a stupid but sincere question - whose bracelet was it? But as soon as you took it in your hand, you already knew the answer, for the size of the jewelry left no doubt as to who had once owned it.
"What...," you stammered, feeling the jewelry in your hands. It was warm, almost hot - apparently, Megumi had warmed it in his hands for a long time. "What happened?"
"Jonah brought more people to evacuate," the boy began in a trembling voice. "Kyle said we couldn't get everyone out at once. I insisted, though. I promised them I'd get them out," his eyes finally glistened, but not a single tear still fell. "I said I could take them out, but Kyle warned me that I couldn't take out six at a time. Then the people started... Th-they... They begged, begged me to take them out right now...," he sobbed, pressing himself harder against the back of the chair and lowering his gaze, hiding his face in his hand. "I convinced Kyle that I could do it. I really felt it," the boy pleaded, raising wet eyes to you. "He went to walk us to the rift, except...," he breathed intermittently and shallowly, swallowing thick saliva. "When we were close to the rift, it turned out they weren't people at all," he looked up at you, making sure you understood what he meant. "I wanted to stay, but he pushed me away, and I think I ripped it off him at that point," he glanced at the bracelet in your hands, licking his chapped lips. "First he pushed me away, then relocated me closer to the rift, and then I think he relocate himself, but...," stingy tears spilled from his eyes like begging atonement. "Before I went in, I turned around. They- They torn him ap-"
"I got it," you interrupted without listening to the rest of the story.
It was as if all the water had evaporated from your body - it was so dry it was hard to move your limbs, your eyes refused to blink, saliva pooled in your mouth as if you'd lost all your basic reflexes. "There's nothing ya can do now. Go to bed," you said blankly. Your gaze fell on the pack of cigarettes that was peering through the white robe of Shoko, who had approached you. Ieiri silently reached into the pocket, pulled out a cigarette and held it out to you, paired with a lighter. "Thanks."
It was a long walk to the window, for the floor underfoot was not parquet, but viscous glue. The phone rang for the umpteenth time, but you weren't angry or annoyed. You didn't care. That's what you thought, until you saw the name of the caller.
It was Frank.
You took a cigarette in your teeth and lit it, but you hesitated before answering the phone, your numb hands deliberately delaying the moment. The phone screen went out, but immediately lit up again. "Hey, Frank."
"It's been well over an hour," he sighed. "If ya can't call me back, at least send me a text so I don't worry-"
"Frank."
"Don't interrupt me, that's not what I taught ya," he frowned, reminding you of childhood admonitions. "How's Rachel doing? Have ya been watching her?"
"Frank," you tried again.
"Did she drink a lot?" the agitated man persisted. "She did something wrong, didn't she?"
"Frank!" you shouted into the phone. The silence was so empty and impersonal, only the waves crashing against the rocks reminded you what kind of world you were in. You took a puff for the first time in a long time. Your head was spinning, but you remained standing at the open panoramic window. "Kyle, he's... He's dead."
When you said it aloud, you brought it to life, bringing chaos not only to your soul, but to the souls of others as well. There was a long silence, and the sound of the waves began to subside along with the beating of the heart. It would have been better if Frank had never spoken, for instead of his words you heard only something mechanical, and the ringing in your ears made it impossible to make out what was said - past, future, anguish, joys, sorrows and moments of happiness - all merged together and seemed to sink into the bay before your eyes.
You threw away the burnt cigarette and pulled the silver bracelet out of your pocket; it was cool as it lost its warmth. There was no blood on it, no pieces of skin. You put it to your lips, hoping to feel Kyle again. It was no use. The jewelry gave off only your warmth.
You didn't immediately realize that Frank had gone silent. 'Yeah, okay,' you said on automatic. You seemed to hear the words 'Hopetown', 'funeral', 'two days'. Were 'two days' accurate? Did Frank say three? Did he say anything at all?
Before you could come to your senses and have time to ask again, Frank hung up. "Y/N," Principal Yaga's worried voice came from behind you. "Is there anything we can do for you?"
You lost your brother, and you are unlikely to ever see again those people who were first gifted with hope and then left in the void. "Yeah," you replied coldly, turning to look at those present. You were still desperately pressing the jewelry to your lips. "Your job."
Seeing the principal nod briefly, you walked past heading for the workroom, throwing all Kyle's hopes, plans, dreams, and silver bracelet into the trashcan.  
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next ⊳
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kokoriku · 3 days
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satoru shojo ~
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kenm4vhs · 7 months
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catoru gojo proof
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18K notes · View notes
gojorgeous · 3 months
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“heatwaves”
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pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k
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Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 
 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 
“Yes… Thank you.” 
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 
“Take care.” 
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 
“N-no–” 
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 
“‘M following your scent, baby.” 
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 
“You on birth control, baby?” 
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…” 
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
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thoughtssvt · 3 months
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gojo satoru never put his infinity up when he was with you. he liked to feel you close.
the first time he'd touched you— actually touched you— was an accident. one he'd never made before. all that happened was that your arms had brushed together. it was just for a short moment, but electricity ran under his skin and straight to his heart. he'd just felt so comfortable with you. so close. the moment was perfect, he was positive that all the stars had aligned when he was with you. he could be himself. you'd seen him through his barrier.
he became addicted.
he wanted to feel you that close every time.
even knowing his arm would fall asleep he would snake it under your waist, pull you in tight. he loved the way your hair would tickle his nose as he kissed the nape of your neck.
sometimes he'd get carried away. it was a euphoric feeling so foreign to the pads of his fingers. the thud of your heart against his palm, your calves tangling with his. you'd giggle saying that he was practically choking you.
"one more minute, i promise," he'd say, voice rumbling through his chest and against your back.
one minute became two and after two, well, you guessed you could get used to him melding your bodies together.
he found himself touching you every chance he got. his fingers massaging your scalp, elbows nudging as you walked side by side. sometimes when your legs were strewn over his he couldn't help running a hand up and down from ankle to knee, waxing his palm against your skin as he reached the bend.
he absolutely loved when you were the one to initiate touch. you could practically see a tail wagging when your fingers danced against his wrist just before sliding down to trace circles into his palms, his hand eager to intertwine with yours.
even on those sticky summer afternoons when all the fan was doing was blowing the hot air around he couldn't get enough of you. two clips swiping his hair out of his face (matching yours, of course), a cold patch on his forehead, he'd wrap his arms around you as you chopped away at refreshing fruit. his body encompassing yours, chin hooking onto your shoulder as he reminded you to be careful.
winter was his favorite as if he needed an excuse to cuddle close to you. the breaths of your giggles fanning his skin, your socked feet brushing together where you both hid under a soft, cozy blanket.
every night as he listened to your deep, steady breaths he thought about how grateful he was to have met you. he'd been so focused on being the strongest that he'd never given a fleeting thought to being weak. and god, when it came to you he got so weak. he wondered how it was ever a bad thing in the first place.
before sleep took him he pulled you in closer, felt your breath hit the back of his hand, your chest rise under his palm.
gojo satoru was almost certain that you and him and the love you shared together was the true meaning of infinity, so when he was with you he never had to put it up. one look in your eyes was all the forever he needed.
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A/N : ngl i melted while writing this. let's be fr he'd be this clingy (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
j‹𝟹
jjk men x reader masterlist | needy morning w/ gojo
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mieluscious · 4 months
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you better move. gojo satoru
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ෆ pairings : gojo satoru x female reader
ෆ genre : smut, pwp
ෆ word count : 3k3
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ෆ warnings : mdni. bully roommate!gojo, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial (just once dw), degradation, rough sex, sextape, cockwarming, jealousy (reader is trying to make a random guy jealous and gojo's gonna help her), gojo is kinda soft at the end. . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚
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"fuck i hate him !" you tapped your foot angrily on the living room floor.
"what's wrong y/n. and where the fuck is your pants." gojo was watching wrestling on the tv but it was quite difficult since you were standing in front of it and it was slowly getting on his nerves.
"you know that guy i've been talking to for a few days ?" he nodded, spread his thighs and rested his back against the sofa, his eyes still focused on the tv. "he’s getting on my nerves so fucking much ! he's trying to make me jealous when all i want to do is fuck him and throw him away." you walked quickly towards gojo and showed him the screen of your phone. "look." gojo's eyes lazily moved to the video of the guy you're talking about kissing a girl at a frat party.
he turned his attention back to the tv. "why do you care if you just want to fuck." you pouted at his reaction, as if what you'd just shown him wasn't a big deal. your eyes fell on gojo's hand, which slipped under his shirt to scratch his stomach and you smiled devilishly when an idea suddenly came to you.
you moved a little closer and sat on him, he slowly lifted his face towards yours with a questioning look. "what are you doing y/n." you opened the camera app on your phone and pulled his shirt up over his chest. you put your warm hand on his abs and gojo raised his hips with you on it to reposition himself on the sofa. 
you took a photo but since he moved the result was blurred. you pinched the skin of his stomach and he grunted. "argh stop moving." you took another picture and this time you were proud of you, we could clearly see that you were sitting right on top of his clothed cock and your hand were caressing his abs. you sent it to the mf.
"are you done now ?" you looked up at gojo and his gaze was bored. you stuck out your tongue and smiled at him. he rolled his eyes before bringing his attention back to the tv. 
you flinched slightly when your phone rang faster than expected. you grabbed gojo's face. "omg he's saying my picture's fake who does he think i am?" 
"well. it's fake y/n." he slapped your ass. "now move." gojo closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to one side as he tried to contain his annoyance when you suddenly pressed your chest against his and ran a hand through his hair, choosing a good angle so that we could see your face and the back of gojo's head. he pulled the elastic band of your panties and let it snap against the skin of your hip. "move." 
"shut up im almost done." gojo gasped silently when you brought your lips to his ear and bit down gently before taking another picture. you rested your elbows on either side of his head on the back of the sofa. typing rapidly on your phone. "he still doesn't seem to believe me huh." gojo's eyes fell on your ass and the way your hips rubbed against his dick without you realizing it, since you were too busy putting your little plan into action. "tf is wrong with him satoru i don't understand why-" you suddenly mewled as you felt gojo's tongue against your throat. he still had his head against the back of the couch and his legs spread a little wider wanting to give you more room on his cock. "w-what are you doing ?" your phone slipped out of your hand and gojo caught it before it fell to the ground, he threw it on the sofa and his hands slipped under your shirt, slowly caressing your back.
his tongue slipped from your collarbones to your chin. "didn't i tell you to move?" you were about to say you were sorry when one of his hands pinched the skin of your hip. "such a disrespectful girl." his other hand slid down your back to your ass. "using me for you little games mh ?" 
"i-im sorry i told you i was almost done." his fingers rested on the fabric of your panties right at the entrance of your pussy. you threw your head back and firmly grasped his shirt over his shoulders. "i-i said i was sorry stop bullying me." 
he raised his face to you with a smirk and tilted his head to the side. his hand, which had been on your hip, went up to your hair to undo your bun, your hair slipped down your shoulders and your back. you moaned prettily as you lowered your head back to gojo, his gaze sliding over your half-open mouth. "such a pretty girl like you, begging other guys to fuck her." you caught your lower lip between your lips and sighed a small sorry. his hand slipped down your neck and his lips pressed against your ear. "when she could just ask me."
your relationship with gojo was different from what you had with other boys, you've known him since highschool and you secretly always wanted him to fuck you but you never took that step. gojo was very popular at school and you never thought you could have a chance with him. and to be honest he didn't seem very interested in you from the way he behaved with you, he was always nonchalant and didn't seem to care about what you had to say most of the time. you didn't hate him, on the contrary, you found him amusing and you liked to tease him a lot. 
his voice sent shivers down your spine and you closed your eyes, savoring the sensation. "you’re making fun of me." he brought his face towards you again, his nose almost touching yours. 
you opened your eyes and flinched slightly at the sight of his gaze, his magnificent blue eyes were so dark and intimidating. "i think you're the one who's making fun of me." he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slamming them back against the entrance of your pussy. you moaned louder and immediately arched you back, your breasts pressed harder against his muscular chest. "look at me." you grabbed his shirt tighter, you were about to slip and your body was shaking because of him. you raised your gaze to his. "you walk around half naked in front of me and talk about other guys all day long." you opened your mouth under his ocean eyes when you felt his fingers push the fabric of your panties to slowly get inside your pussy. his other hand slipped from your neck and pressed a finger to your chin, making you open your mouth wider. "and then you dare to sit on me." his long fingers slid slowly between your wet walls and a sob escaped from your pretty glossy lips. he smirked and licked his lips, not missing a beat. "you used me as you pleased when all i wanted was to watch tv." he removed his fingers completely from your pussy before roughly inserting them inside again, hitting your g-spot hard. you screamed and squeezed gojo's waist tightly between your thighs. you could feel your whole body trembling and your mouth was constantly open, to the point of having drool almost dripping from your lips. your feverish gaze never left gojo's, who could only admire the show you were offering him. "and then you dare to grind this little pussy on my dick." he fingerfucked you roughly, making you bounce against his chest. “i may be your friend y/n but at the end of the day i'm still a man.” your mouth was so close to his that you could feel his breath on your tongue as he spoke to you. 
gojo was so nonchalant in everything he did. a few minutes ago he was slumped on the couch, watching tv while scratching his stomach and now he's in the same position but he’s fucking you with his two long ass fingers like it was nothing. and all of that with the same bored expression on his face. "p-please..-" he pressed his finger harder on your chin and you stuck your tongue out a little. "i-im gonna cum." your walls tightened around his fingers and he knew you were about to cum so he wasted no time removing his fingers from your cunt. 
you sobbed, beating his chest with your fists. "i fucking hate you-" you grabbed his shirt and pulled it in all directions with anger, the collar was stretched out, revealing his collarbones and almost the top of his chest. gojo lazily glanced at your breasts, which rose and fell because of your breathing and every gesture you made, making them even more delicious. 
his hand went to one of your breasts and gently slapped it, making it jiggle. "why are they so big." you crossed your arms over your chest, stabbing him with your eyes.
"don't look. don't touch." you tried to get up to go to your room and curse him until you fell asleep, but gojo decided otherwise as he grabbed you by the waist and laid you on the couch. you blushed when he straightened up to take off his shirt without taking his eyes off you, you felt so small under him. 
"the way you cling to the idea that i'm interested in what comes out of your pretty little mouth is so sweet." he grabbed your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your bare breasts to his envious gaze. "fucking big." he pulled the shirt from around your head, leaving your arms up and trapped by the fabric. you arched your back slightly when you met his piercing gaze, you were so intimidated, it frustrated you and gojo noticed it. cute.
"stop looking." he slapped your inner thighs and you squealed. 
"how could i stop looking at such a sweet lil thing ?" he firmly grasped your hip with one hand and pressed his crotch against your wet covered pussy. "look at this." he grabbed the fabric of your panties and yanked them off, revealing your dripping pussy. his finger slipped over your clit, collecting a drop of your juice before bringing it to his mouth, sucking slowly on it. his gaze returned to yours. "is she crying for me ?" you could feel your wetness dripping even more between your legs. he slid his hand down your hip to the back of your thigh before leaning over you. you moaned and arched your back a bit more as you felt the warm skin of his chest brush against the tip of your breasts. "now you're gonna have to be honest with me." he put his forearm next to your face while the other one slipped into his pants to pull out his cock. "how long have you been waiting for this y/n ?" you pushed the back of your head into the sofa beneath you as you saw him move a little closer, his nose touching yours. "how long have you been dreaming of me fucking you ?" your mouth opened to let out a moan when you felt the tip of his cock caress the entrance to your pussy and gojo took the opportunity to lick the hollow of your tongue. you blushed. his gaze on you became more insistent, but you held your tongue. you didn't want to give him an answer. his nose grazed your cheek and placed a light kiss on it. “don’t act so shy now.” you felt your body tremble again as the tip of his tongue entered your ear, making you mewl louder with one eye closed. 
“i-i won’t answer you.” you felt him smile against your ear.
“may i ask why.” he straightened slightly, placing his two hands on either side of your head, the strands of his white hair gently brushing the skin of your forehead. his eyes have never been as blue as they are now.
“because you’re a bully and you love to play with me, you don’t deserv-” you didn't even have time to finish your sentence when gojo cut you off by pushing his whole cock roughly into your pussy. his eyes wandered over every inch of your face, from your flushed cheeks to your delicious mouth, which opened wide to moan loudly. little tears formed at the corners of your eyes when you tried to free yourself from the shirt that was trapping your arms to try to hold on to gojo, but you weren't strong enough. 
gojo looked down on you with a smirk. “what were you saying ?” one of his hands slid on your lower belly wanting to feel his cock inside you. “you're good at taking it.” little noises came out of your mouth every time you tried to breathe, and gojo couldn't help but find you adorable. he suddenly grabbed your hips with both hands and lifted your ass off the couch, before brutally starting to thrust his cock deep inside you, causing the sofa to bang against the wall and the pillows to fall to the floor. “s’ tight.” he threw his head back with a soft moan and turned his attention back to you. your back arched, you tried to tell him to slow down but you were a moaning mess. your breasts jiggled with each thrust. gojo brought you with him by the hips and put one foot on the floor while his knee remained on the sofa, he grabbed the back of one of your knees and pressed it against your shoulder, opening you up much more to fuck you even harder. he leaned over you and placed his other hand on the back of the sofa above your head, your eyes fell on his necklace, which swayed up and down against his chest. your teeth caught your lower lip in a mewl when you met his piercing gaze again - he was so hot. “you better answer me before i get mean.” you moved your trapped arms again, trying to free yourself under his burning eyes, you were trapped like a little mouse in the evil cat's trap.
“s-sato-..” he let go of your knee but you still remained open while his hand slipped over one of your breasts, which he pinched hard, making you arch your back and cry out. you could feel the skin of your belly caressing his abs, and the sensation of his pubic bone rubbing your clit with each of his powerful thrusts made you moan even louder. you threw your head back when you felt gojo press his face against your neck and bite, his tongue slipped from your jaw to your ear as he whispered to you to hurry up. and at that moment you wanted to answer him but no coherent words could come out of your mouth except moans and sobs, you wanted him to untie you and let you touch him so you could finally cum but you knew that gojo was an impatient person and the longer you took the crazier he became. “t-too m-mu…ch-” 
and suddenly everything changed. in the blink of an eye you found yourself sitting with your back against his chest while he held your arms firmly behind your back with one hand, making you bounce at inhuman speed on his cock. the grip of his hand on your arms tightened when he heard you sob as you threw your head back on his shoulder, a few strands of hair splayed across your face. “i warned you y/n.” he grabbed your phone, which he'd thrown on the sofa earlier, and unlocked it to open the camera app. he pressed record and aimed the lens at your flushed face. “look at her.” he let go of your arms and grabbed your face, positioning his mouth towards yours before biting your lips hard, making you cry out. he turned his attention to his reflection on the screen of your phone and smiled evilly. “this is the little princess you didn’t wanna fuck.” he lifted his knee which was under yours and planted his foot on the sofa. you were so open that you could hear even more the wet sounds of what was happening between your thighs. his hand went to your hip when he positioned the camera angle on his throbbing cock fucking inside your pussy. “is it real enough for you this time ?” he grabbed the shirt around your arms and tore it, freeing you. you didn't waste any time and put an arm around his shoulders before finally grabbing his soft white hair, making him grunt. your other hand went to his thigh and you started to bounce on his cock yourself, fucking him while he turned the camera back to your face. he slipped his hand over your belly before catching one of your tits in his large hand. “she's so fucking good, and too bad for you that's my dick she's sitting on.” he sent the video and threw your phone on the coffee table. you arched your back against his chest as his other hand slipped between your legs to pinch your clit before massaging it roughly. “look at you using me again.” you threw your head on your shoulder with a loud moan as you felt the orgasm rising inside you. “are you having fun on my cock baby ?” you nodded and turned your face towards his, mouth wide open against his as he pinched the bud of your breast. “pretty face wanna cum mh? fuck.” you nodded again and hearing him moan so loudly inside your mouth was too much for you when your eyes almost rolled to the back of your skull as a wave of pleasure swept through your body once again.
“p-plea-” you tugged harder on his hair as he grabbed the back of your knees before lifting you up against his chest to roughly thrust his cock up inside your dripping cunt like an animal. your screams blended together and echoed against the living room walls, now you were convinced that the neighbors could hear you fucking. gojo pressed his face against the back of your neck and sank his teeth into your delicate skin when you both finally came at the same time with loud moans.
after a few seconds you fell back on gojo who grabbed you by the waist, you could hear him breathing heavily in your ear, and it made you blush when he pressed a soft kiss on it. he threw his head back on the back of the sofa and slid his hands down to your thighs, caressing them gently. you tightened your pussy walls around his cock making him moan with a smile on his beautiful lips. “i can’t remove it.” you slapped his thigh wanting him to let you go so you can get cleaned up. “sorry. pussy too fucking good. lemme sleep like this.”
you sighed and straightened yourself up, you ran a hand over the back of your neck. “you really had to bite me ?” you turned your face towards him and he tilted his head to one side, smiling. you turned your attention back in front of you and blushed. “since highschool.”
“hm ?” he slid his hands over your waist massaging it with his thumbs. he raised his oceanic eyes and noticed your flushed ears. he brought a finger over one of them and you flinched with a little squeal making him smile.
“i've been wanting you to touch me since highschool.”
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© 𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 ! mdni — do not steal, modify or repost my work pls don't make me mad im a human just like you. ☆⌒(>。<)
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bloodyblackack · 1 year
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•. Faking an orgasm with Gojo Satoru .•
18+ mdni!!!!!
Tw: smut, overstimulation, fingering, biting, cream pie, dacryphilia, princess, etc.
An: I have no idea what I was on when I wrote this…💀
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- You didn’t know why you would try to do such a stupid prank on him.
- And you definitely didn’t expect the outcome of your foolish plan😔
- Gojo came home late and tired. Despite that, he wouldn’t stop clinging to you.
- The tiredness seemed to have awakened a fuzzy desire for you in his head.
- You saw the way he wouldn’t stop burying his face into your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and nibbles.
- His hands wandering under your shirt and fiddling with your perked nipples.
- You decided that this was the perfect opportunity to execute the prank that you had read about online earlier.
- He was tired and sloppy, so his reaction wouldn’t be that intense right?…..😔
- Gojo had you pinned below him as he rocked into you sweetly, his head buried in your neck while he littered soft kisses along your jaw.
- His pace was steady yet strong despite his tiredness.
- His large cock pumping steadily inside of you was already a delicious feeling, causing your brows to knit slightly but much too early for you to reach your peak yet.
- You felt your heart beat pick up as you prepared to let out a string of moans, similar to the ones you let out during your high.
- In a moment, you wrapped your arms around Gojo’s neck and let your voice go wild in his ears as you pretended to reach your high underneath him.
- In a second, his movements stopped completely as he froze at the sudden sound of your voice.
- His cock was still halfway in your walls as he slowly raised his head from your neck so that he could see your face, your arms falling back to your chest hesitantly as he did so.
- You were trying to keep up with the act by letting out heavy breaths but the moment his icy blue eyes locked with yours, your breaths got hushed to almost silent puffs of air.
- The tiredness that filled his eyes before was now completely engulfed by an unreadable piercing gaze as he looked down at your glossy eyes.
- “What was that…?” He asked, confusion lingering in his slightly raspy voice.
- “I came…?” You said weakly as embarrassment started to flood your face, causing it to burn uncontrollably.
- “Your joking right?” Gojo said as he slowly brought one of his hands down to drag against your puffy folds that wrapped around his twitching cock.
- His eyes still locked on yours as he did so.
- “Was that even supposed to be believable? Hmm?” He said before dropping his head down so his lips lined up with your ears before he whispered, “I know how wet you get when you cum for me princess.”
- You could feel butterflies pooling In your stomach from his unexpected tone that was mixed with both annoyance and the cockiness that he usually exuded when fucked you hard.
- “But I did cum…” you said meekly as you looked up into his crystal like eyes, for some reason you just couldn’t bring yourself to quit playing along.
- “….Oh” Gojo’s said with a light chuckle before lowering his head to look at where the two of you were connected.
- In a second, he slipped his hard cock out of you, causing your hole to gape and clench around nothing.
- Disappointment filled your mind as you completely forgot that you really didn’t reach your high yet.
- Gojo lifted his body so that he looked down at you, propped up on his knees as he straddled your legs.
- You looked up at him with anticipation eating away at your stomach as you racked your mind on what he was possibly planning on doing.
- His large pale hands came down to your waist and caressed your sides gently before he yanked your hips down evoking a startled yelp from you as you got dragged to the middle of the bed, head no longer resting on the fluffy pillow.
- “Sator-Aaah!!” You let out a loud and distressed moan when his thumb came down to start rubbing rapid circles on your clit, causing you to clench down on yourself at the suddenly intense feeling.
- Your thighs began to close on Gojo’s hand and In a second, his free hand came up to pry your legs apart before he lowered his body once again so that your legs were spread out by his waist.
- “Don’t go closing your legs on me now princess, I want you to feel as good as possible. I want you to come for me as many times as I tell you to” Gojo said with a crooked smirk as he kissed the area right below your right eye, causing you to squint.
- “Aahh! Nngh!! Satoru-wait…slow down” you cried out as you squirmed underneath his large body, your hands plastered weakly on his chest.
- “Mmhmm~” Gojo hummed in acknowledgment as his flicking at your clit got faster, much faster than he usually went when he wanted to edge you.
- You could feel the knot in your stomach forming quickly as your hips squirmed at his touch.
- “Toru- I’m coming-“ you breathed out through desperate breaths before a loud string of moans slipped passed your lips.
- Your arms wrapped around Gojo’s neck once again as you bucked your hips up into his fingers while his thumb rubbed your clit through your high.
- His movements slowed as your breaths got steadier, your walls still fluttered from how fast he was going on you.
- Gojo lifted his thumb from your clit and brought his middle and ring finger back down to your folds before he slid them up, gathering up some of your juices on his finger tips.
- “This feels a lot more familiar,” he said teasingly into your ears as he pressed your gooey juices to his thumb, letting it string up and drip down his long digits as he spread them apart.
- In a second his middle finger was buried deep into your cunt quickly followed by his ring finger causing you to let out a loud yelp.
- “Wait-I already-“ your words were cut off by Gojo’s voice as he spoke with a chillingly playful tone in your ear.
- “Like I said, you’ll come for me as many times as I want,��� Gojo whispered into your ear as he began to start rubbing slow circles directly on your sweet spot.
- You let out a chain of embarrassing whimpers as your arched your back at the feeling of his focused touch on your walls.
- “Satoru, wait…please…s’too much-,” you whimpered out as your body began to squirm once again at his touch.
- “You can handle it-“ Gojo said bluntly as he started to pump his fingers in and out of your clenching hole, finger tips brushing your spot every time.
- “Aaah!! Wait, please!!” You cried out with your eyes shut tight when he began to drive his digits into your cunt faster than he ever has with you, his palm slapping your clit as he did so.
- The sounds of your drenched hole squelching rapidly around his fingers filled the room along with your broken moans.
- You felt Gojo’s soft lips planting wet kisses all over your burning face as you whined at his relentless pace.
- Your turned your head away from him and to the side as your hands went down to grip the sheets tightly.
- “Does it feel good princess?” Gojo said with a breathy grin as his own breath was starting to pick up from the arousal he got while looking at you crumble underneath him.
- Your legs were starting to trembling and your walls were beginning to clench sporadically around his soaked fingers indicating that your high was starting to approach you once again.
- All of your little whines and moans, your clenching walls, and the way that you couldn’t even look up at him as you panted desperately into the sheets.
- The sight in front of him made his cock twitch uncontrollably as pre cum spilled from his slit.
- In a moment your back was arching underneath him and untamed moans ripped passed your lips as your second climax washed over your body, Gojo’s name falling from your lips repeatedly.
- Gojo slowed his pace down completely and went back to rubbing firm circles on your sweet spot through your high which only made you whimper even louder.
- His fingers finally came to a full stop as you started to regain your breath once again.
- Your face was still turned away from his and your hands continued to grip the sheets tightly as you let out broken breaths.
- “Has my sweet angel had enough?” He said playfully in your ears as he slid his large digits out of your quivering slit, your juices creating lewd strings that connected him to your cunt.
- You turned your head to face his as you nodded up at him nervously, your eyes meeting his that squinted slightly from the devious grin that graced his features.
- “Hmm….” Gojo hummed as he bent his head down and let his nose brush up against your cheek as he took in your sent.
- “…I don’t think so-“ he said before firmly gripping your hips with his large hands, holding them down as he spoke.
- “You see…I’m still so hard…” he said as he prodded the tip of his aching cock against your sensitive bud.
- “You’ll help me right?” Your brows furrowed at his words, the future of your aching hole flashing before your tired eyes.
- “N-no…” you whimpered out hesitantly as you began to scoot your tired body up the mattress in an attempt to distance yourself from his large frame.
- You let out a loud yelp when you felt your body get dragged back down by Gojo’s large hands, his chest coming down to press against yours preventing anymore movements from you.
- “It’s too late run away now princess, I need you-“ he said playfully as he let his teeth graze against the soft skin of your neck before he let them sink into the plush skin, just enough so that it didn’t break the skin.
- You let out a loud whimper into his ears at the sharp stinging feeling of his canines bruising your skin.
- His cock twitched at the broken sound of your voice. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside of you right now.
- In a second, he angled his large tip at your cunt before sliding into your already drenched walls, savoring the feeling of your cunt already fluttering around his length rapidly from the overstimulation.
- “Nngh!!…Satoru, I-I can’t, it’s too much!!” You moaned out when you felt his tip rub up against your already abused sweet spot. One of his hands slid down your waist and gripped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he placed a kiss over his bite mark.
- He knew you could handle it, and you both knew that you had your safe word available whenever you needed it so he continued his movements on your worn body despite your protests.
- He lifted his chest off of you as he adjusted his grip on the sheets besides your head, his snowy hair draping his face as he looked down at you.
- “I think you deserve this…” he said with a smirk before he began to thrust into your soaking cunt, your walls gripping him tight as your moans rang off of the walls.
- Your broken moans turned into borderline sobs when his thrusts into you quickened, his pace only getting faster and faster as his breath started to pick up into deep puffs of air.
- Gojo looked down at your legs when he started to feel them trembling against his thighs, his fast pace causing your skins to slap against each other’s rapidly.
- He held your hips firmly against his as he pulled you up into his thrusts slightly.
- Gojo’s eyes trailed back up to your face when he heard your moans turn into choked whimpers. His eyes sparked when he saw the the tears roll out of your foggy eyes and land on the sheets below you.
- The sight of you trembling and squirming with tears trickling down your burning cheeks, all because of his large cock inside of you had him seeing stars.
- Something about your sparkling tears just ignited a burning desire in his heart to make you scream, to absolutely ruin his pretty little Angel.
- And with that he quickened his pace as he ruthlessly nailed his cock into your warm cunt, his tip pounding your your sweet spot with each thrust.
- “AAAH!! TORU-WAIT!!” You screamed as your body got rocked by Gojo’s forceful thrusts into you.
- Your walls clenched tightly around his twitching member causing him to let out a string of breathy moans as he shut his eyes in concentration with his brows furrowed.
- Your legs stilled trembled against his as his thrust became more sporadic and his moans got louder and more broken.
- In a second, he thrusted into you one more time before he buried his cock balls deep into your quivering cunt.
- His hot seed spilled out of his throbbing tip in sudden spurts as he buried his face into your neck, his sharp breaths tickling the skin of your neck as he held your hips in place firmly.
- His long wait before getting his release as he tortured you caused him to cum harder than ever into your walls.
- The feeling of his warm seed filling you up caused your high to crash down on you suddenly.
- Your walls closing in on him sporadically at the intense feeling of your orgasm washing over you had you both a moaning mess.
- Gojo’s breathing returned to deep staggered breaths as he lifted himself from your neck so that he could see your face.
- Your face was flushed, completely fucked out by Gojo’s bullying. Your plush lips were slightly swollen from all of the lip biting that you were doing and your brows were still knit together from the pleasure.
- Your hooded eyes looked up at him, walls still clenching around his softening cock.
- “You did so well for me princess,” Gojo said as he brought his hand up to caress the side of your face, his thumb wiping at the tears that still rolled down your cheek.
- You responded with a tired pant as you rolled your eyes exhaustedly and looked over to the side once again, your breath still catching up to you.
- Gojo smiled at your tired actions before placing a soft kiss on your burning cheek that was on full display for him.
- He let out a soft breath as he slid his length out of your swollen slit, his cum glazing his shaft and dripping out of your beat up hole.
- “It was just a prank,” you said weakly with your head still faced away from him.
- Gojo stared at you dumbfounded for a few moments before his features relaxed to show his previously tired face.
- “…Well what’s done is done” he said before bending down and tilting his head to catch your lips in a soft kiss, missing the taste of your plush lips on his.
- You just knew you were going to be beyond sore the next day when you winced at Gojo’s light touch on your hips.
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©️bloodyblackack
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gojosatorubrainrot · 5 months
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THE UNDERCUT, THE SMIRK... HIM💙
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sweetolpotato · 10 months
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Gojo lighting study✨🦋
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valeo-art-svalka · 5 months
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New piercing
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neo--queen--serenity · 7 months
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AGAIN I AM SAYING how much I fucking notice Gojou’s influence on Megumi
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Megumi scarcely ever mentions that this hooligan raised him, then he subconsciously emulates him over and over when Gojou’s no longer there to take the lead.
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 7 months
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Gojo Satoru - "Harajuku Street Food"
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
In which a certain special-grade jujutsu sorcerer stops at a street vendor's stall that catches his attention with its heavenly scent and leaves with more than just a few purchased snacks. Or; In which when buying some snacks before meeting his three first-year students, Gojo Satoru successfully acquires the number of the cute vendor that runs the stall.
                                                                                                   
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🍡•♡•🍢•♡•🍡•♡•🍢•♡•🍡•♡•🍢•♡•🍡•♡•🍢
"Hey there!"
A smooth but playful voice called, drawing your attention from the portable skillet in front of you.
Looking up, you're met with a very tall man with white hair, a customer surely. However, your attention is drawn to his face, or rather, to the black blindfold that covered his eyes and forehead. Even if you couldn't see half of his face, you could still tell that he was quite handsome.
Suddenly though, a hand appears in front of your eyes and snaps a few times, breaking you from your observation. The man had leaned forward while you were distracted, his face only inches away from your own now, his nose nearly touching your own.
"Ah! S‐sorry sir! Um, what would you like? There's a wide selection of goods to choose from."
You flinch backward, quickly trying to correct your unprofessional behavior by offering the man the usual customer greeting.
The blindfolded man lets out an attractive chuckle as he places a hand on his hip; you swear you could hear him mutter a quiet 'cute'. He then turns his attention to the medium-sized menu card that you had sat to the side; perusing his options. Though it seems like he didn't need to look long as he quickly turned his attention back to you.
"Right, I'll take everything."
He spoke with a curt nod, his voice still playful but with an underlying seriousness.
You stare at him for a while; unable to process quite what he meant. What did he mean by everything? One of everything or literally everything?
"Uh... One of everything?"
You asked him cautiously, becoming nervous at the thought of having your stall picked clean so early on in the day.
The man tilts his head at you, his smile shrinking a bit, and you can only assume that he must think that you're a bit slow on the uptake. But just as quickly as it shrunk, his smile grew wide again and his chipper attitude presented itself even more prominently.
"Nope! Everything you've got! Oh, I'll take your number too while I'm at it!"
He chirped, loosely crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned forward slightly, towering over you.
You feel your face heat up at his words; you've never met someone so bold before. Quickly, you turn around and bag up all of the inventory you have so far today. Ending up with six bags, you pull out a pen and turn back to him, seeing him leaning on the stall counter.
"Here you are sir; your total is ¥59,610.80. Both cash and card are acceptable."
You told him as you handed him his bags; gently grabbing one of his wrists.
The man tilts his head again, seemingly forgetting his earlier flirt, but you only lift the pen that you had grabbed. Pulling his wrist toward you, you write your number down on the heel of his palm; face warming even further at the fact that you're committing to it.
"M‐my number, you asked for it earlier so..."
You stuttered, looking away from him in embarrassment.
He chuckles, standing up to his full height and putting his free hand in his pocket. An attractive smirk spreads across his face as he turns to leave.
"I'll definitely call you some time, you're too cute~"
🍢•♡•🍡•♡•🍢•♡•🍡•♡•🍢•♡•🍡•♡•🍢•♡•🍡
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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nanamis-baker · 8 days
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You just loved leaving your marks on Satoru's soft, pale skin.
One thing about him? It's just so easy to mark him, to make people know he is taken - that he is yours.
And he loves it too when you leave your marks on him, titling his neck back to give you better access - his girl could have anything and everything she wanted, after all.
He would happily show it off, not even bothering to cover it up, because he is so proud of his girl's handiwork.
In fact, he would intentionally take off his shirt at the gym, showing off those scratches you left on his back- let the women stare at him all they wanted; he didn't care - he was taken, after all.
But it doesn't stop there, of course. For every mark you left, he leaves twice as many marks on you. And they aren't just love bites, you know. There are scratch marks on you too, along with crescent indentation of his nails on the taunt skin of your waist, as well as the bruises from his grip while you were riding him like your life depends on it.
Your body was lovely as it was, but when it is covered in his marks, you become sinfully irresistible.
Oh, you become the loveliest map with all those marks adorning your body. A map Satoru loves to explore, get lost in, and never find his way back.
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kenm4vhs · 2 months
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there’s just something extremely hot about satoru playing with his blindfold with his hair down
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gojorgeous · 3 months
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"sure thing"
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pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k
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“Who?!” 
No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 
“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.
“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 
“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 
You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 
Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 
“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 
“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 
He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 
Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 
He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”
You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 
Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 
“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 
Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 
“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 
“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 
~
It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 
You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 
You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.
It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 
You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 
You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 
You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.
You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 
The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.
The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 
You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.
You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 
You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 
You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 
“Hey, Dean,” you call.
He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 
“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 
Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 
“Yeah. Long day at work.” 
A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 
You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 
You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 
“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 
Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 
His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 
You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 
You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 
You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 
The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.
You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 
“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 
Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 
You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 
You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 
His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 
“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 
He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 
You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 
“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 
You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 
You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 
“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 
His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 
His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 
Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 
There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 
“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 
You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 
You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 
A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 
You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 
You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 
He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 
“So, what’s your technique” 
You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 
“Bet I could find out.” 
That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 
He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 
You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 
You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 
“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 
You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 
His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 
Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 
“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 
You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 
Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 
“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.
He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 
The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 
When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”
You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 
Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 
He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.
He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 
You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 
You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.
“That was Versace,” he whines. 
You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 
“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 
His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 
He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 
A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.
Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 
You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 
You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 
Now. Now, while he’s not looking.
You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 
You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 
You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 
Fuck. 
He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 
“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 
This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 
You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 
You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 
He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 
You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 
You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 
He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 
His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 
You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 
“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 
Your lips part. “You knew?” 
That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 
Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 
But you have one thing on him. 
“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”
There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 
You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 
His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 
You freeze. He notices. 
He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 
Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 
He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 
“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 
Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 
“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 
Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 
His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 
“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 
You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.
His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 
“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 
You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 
“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 
He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 
“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 
There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 
“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 
He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 
You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 
He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.
Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.
His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.
“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 
Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 
He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”
He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 
You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 
Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 
“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.
“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 
“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.
God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 
You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.
Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.
It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 
He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 
Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you
You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 
“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.
A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.
“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 
“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 
He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 
“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 
He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 
You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.
“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 
You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 
Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 
You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.
A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 
His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 
A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 
“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 
He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 
His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 
“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.
“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.
You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 
You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 
You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 
“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”
You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”
His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 
You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 
“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 
“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 
He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 
You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 
He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 
You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 
You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”
You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 
His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 
You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.
There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 
“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 
“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 
He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”
You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 
“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 
He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 
There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 
He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”
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