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risuola · 18 hours

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ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland@ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

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theghostinyourwalls · 1 day

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Do the sexy face babe 🤤

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fun-loving-peach · 2 days

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Soft Intimate Moments with Satoru Gojo

a/n: Hi guys I’m back :3, I’ve kinda been procrastinating on writing so took time for myself but now I’m back with more soft fluff (cause I miss my babygirl, the manga has me on my knees) love y’all my little peaches hope you enjoy 😚

Divider by lovely @plutism 🤍

Satoru always has to touch you. Whether it’s always holding your hand or on the small of your back. He always has to be touching in a way so he doesn’t feel you drifting off.

Satoru always holds your stare. He’s always looking at you even if you two aren’t talking. He enjoys being with you and looking at all your perfections and imperfections he wants to memorize them all.

Satoru always hugs you from behind when he sees you have your back turned to him. He hugs your waist as he gives you a kiss on your nape. A sweet soft kiss as he enjoys the warmth radiating from you.

Satoru holds your thigh whenever he’s driving. It’s a slight comfort to have you close to him. He definitely loves thick thighs because he can squeeze them whenever he feels off, more room for his hands to reach. (As a thick thigh girly I need this so bad 😭)

Satoru always shares his sweets with you. He wants to see if you like something as much as he does so he can buy more of it next time he brings you out for a date. Like imagine sitting in a cafe ordering the newest sweet he had in mind for weeks as he shares it with you. Seeing you like it makes him light up with joy as he orders another one.

Satoru takes your make up off whenever you fall asleep with it on. He knows how you get in the morning when your face is smudge with make up or staining the pillows with it. So he always makes sure to grab a tissue that he found in your bag of make up and wipe your face. You might still have a little liner or sparkles im your face the next morning but he definitely tried his best.

Satoru loves showering you and not like in a sexual way (at least not all the time) he loves being so close and intimate with you. Washing your hair and body with the softest touch. He loves being so vulnerable with you. Might also do funny hairstyles with you whenever he washes your hair. Sometimes it’s a Mohawk other times it’s Elvis.

Satoru loved talking about your guys future together. Where’d it be moving in together permanently or wanting to marry you. It’s always at the back of his head and he loves talking about it with you, knowing you feel the same and want to build a future together like you both deserve.

Satoru always wipes your tears when you cry. He can’t stand seeing your pretty face all upset. Thumbs rubbing your cheeks as he presses a small kiss to your forehead. Even when you guys argue he hates seeing you cry and immediately apologizes so he can stop you from crying to comfort you.

Tag’s: @ladythornofrivia

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ffsg0jo · 3 days

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"She asked for no pickles" with the JJK men if you would like?

characters (all written separately): nanami x reader ; gojo x reader ; choso x reader

warnings: fem!reader , mentions of food , pickles , swearing , gojo being weird , light angst (choso)

w/c: 1.5k (roughly 500-600 words each character)

a/n: this was really fun to write, so thank you sm for sending a request in !! i kinda deviated from the brief a little, so i hope you don't mind too much :)) i hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think !! ive also decided to split it into 2 parts since it was getting really long.

part 1 (nanami ; gojo ; choso) ; part 2 (toji ; geto ; sukuna)

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ::

"sweetheart what's wrong? why aren't you eating?"

your husband’s concerned voice pulled you out of your reverie. you sighed, weighing up your options, trying to decide whether it was worth telling kento your problem or not.

it was supposed to be a cute day out for you both, first going to an art museum which had a special exhibition you were both dying to see. then deciding to visit a nearby park with freshly baked bread, feeding your beloved husband a bite, and then the ducks.

now you were both currently sitting at a restaurant, and the sight before your eyes was enough to ruin your mood.

your husband reaches out and holds your hand from across the table, eyebrows furrowing further as he sees the despair on your face. you refuse to look at him, and kento starts to worry even more.

"my sweet girl, please tell me what's wrong," he urges, lightly squeezing your hand.

you sigh once more, and he follows where your eyes are pointedly staring the burger on your plate. immediately, he sees pickles sticking out from the edges, cemented into the melted cheese, and everything clicks.

"i asked for no pickles ken, but i don't want to be rude and send it back."

kento rubs your hand with his fingers and asks if you want him to take pickles off for you.

"i'll still be able to taste them though because i know they were there," you slightly pouted.

you looked so upset, and your husband hated that. you were really looking forward to trying this restaurant's burger due to all the good reviews you've heard. and as a fellow foodie, he can empathise and share your massive disappointment.

that won't do, kento thinks. his dear heart asked for no pickles, so she'll get a burger with no pickles.

kento spots a waiter nearby and makes eye contact, politely smiling and lifting his hand up. the waiter comes over immediately and asks if everything's okay.

"my beautiful wife here asked for no pickles on her burger, but there seems to be pickles," he looks at you and sees the slight embarrassment on your face and reassuringly rubs your hand. "would it be possible to send this one back and get one without pickles, please?"

you looked up at the waiter in hope with a bashful look on your face.

"absolutely sir," the waiter smiles at your husband and moves to take away the plate from in front of you. he turns to you and dips his head. "i apologise for any inconvenience caused, ma'am. i'll get that to you as soon as possible, alongside a desert of your choice, on the house."

you thank the waiter profusely, and once he's gone, you turn to your husband with the biggest smile on your face. you bring your joined hands up to lips and press kisses on the back of his hand.

"i love you so much kento, thank you!"

your husband smiles with a light blush adorning his cheeks. he leans over the table and presses his lips softly against yours.

"anything for you my sweetheart, i love you too." he whispers softly, with his lips still pressed against yours.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ::

“satoru, my darling, my honeybun sweetie pie, did you put pickles in my fucking pastry?”

your boyfriend, who is sitting next to you, freezes at your tone, with his thumb pressed onto his lips to lick away cream from his cake that had gotten onto it. he turns to you with an incredulous look on his face, hand slowly falling back down to his lap. everything’s silent for a moment as he just blinks at you.

“pickles? did you say pickles babe?”

seeing the visible confusion on satoru’s face, you move the plate in your hands closer to him and pout.

“there’s pickles in my pastry.”

he looks down, and you’re right. for some reason, alongside the cream and the strawberries, there were two small slices of pickles half hidden underneath the strawberries. satoru’s confusion doubles, but then he remembers your accusation and how you looked like you were contemplating murder.

“that wasn’t me babe, i promise, scout’s honour!”

“don’t disrespect scouts toru,” you whine. “i was really looking forward to it you know.” you place the plate down on the tea table in front of you and huff, falling back and sinking into the sofa.

the only thing that got you through the long, hard day was the prospect of feasting on the pastry you bought and cuddling up to your lover. and now it was all ruined. what kind of sicko jokes around and puts pickles on perfectly delicious pastries, actively working to ruin people’s days.

seeing your lover’s shock, you’re inclined to believe him. out of everyone, satoru knew not to mess with people’s food, especially sweet treats. but you could’ve sworn putting it in the fridge with no pickles on it. so what happened?

satoru looks at you all upset, and he loses his appetite. don’t get him wrong, he would die for cake. but seeing you so distraught, he could not, in good conscience, enjoy his slice without you. he looks down at the slice of cake in his hand and decides to make a compromise.

“here, my love,” he says with a sweet smile on his face, handing you his plate. “you can have my slice.”

you look up at him, with your mouth slightly open in disbelief. no way, satoru just offered his cake. you never thought you’d live to see the day. looking at his plate, it does look delicious and pickle-less, but you shake your head. he deserves his sweet treat.

“s’fine baby, thank you though.”

“no, honestly, i don’t mind something savoury with my sweets,” he pushes the plate into your hands and grabs the pastry from the table. satoru makes a show of picking a pickle slice off the pastry and licking the cream off. “see it’s delicious,” he smiles brightly, seemingly enjoying it?

“i love you, but you’re a freak,” you grimace burrowing yourself into satoru’s side.

he only chuckles in response, munching on the pickle. he absolutely hates it. he’s a brilliant actor, but you can see it in his eyes, yet he still swallows it. you lift your hand up to his cheek, holding it gently and pressing kisses to every single bit of skin you can reach. your lover only gives you a cheesy smile in return, popping another cream covered pickle into his mouth.

“you don’t have to eat that love, we can just share your cake.”

satoru shakes his head, adamantly refusing. instead choosing to take a massive bite of your pastry covered in pickle juices. it’s disgusting, and he’ll probably cry in the shower before bed at the horrifying taste, but he could handle a couple of pickles if it ensured your happiness.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ::

“baby it’s fine, i promise”

“no it’s not choso, first they made fun of you, and then they messed up your order on purpose,” you spluttered in pure disbelief. “it’s disrespectful and rude, i’m not letting them get away with it!”

how dare they, you thought as you sped back to the fast-food chain choso had gotten food for you both from. your husband is the sweetest and most respectful soul to have ever graced this earth. how dare they make fun of his facial marks and hair. you wanted to hug and kiss him all over, but first, you had some strong words for the workers at the food shop.

to say you were fuming was the absolute least of it. you know for a fact that choso probably just awkwardly stood there, hearing their remarks and silently accepted his order whilst they laughed at his buns. picturing it only made you angrier, fists balling and blood rushing through your ears.

“baby, please calm down,” your husband called, hot on your heels. you were only a couple of shops away, and he absolutely did not want to make a scene. he took hold of your arm and gently pulled you towards him, grabbing your other hand in his too.

“my love, it’s okay, just let it go,” he urged. you looked at his face and you saw the slight shine in his eyes, and you were about to turn to straight back around. choso only tightens his hold on you and his hand moves up to hold your face.

“they’re just miserable people, not worth wasting your time on them baby.”

“you would do the same for me cho, i’m not hearing it!”

“i absolutely would, but the workers were young, and i don’t want you getting in trouble for fighting a bunch of kids,” he stressed. “let’s just go home and cuddle, and order takeout or something. please.”

the discomfort of going back inside the shop was written all over his face, and you really didn’t want to make choso’s day harder or worse than it already was. your husband deserved the world, and it made your heart break, knowing that there were people being mean to him. sighing, you lean up and press a soft kiss to the bridge of choso’s nose, right where his mark is.

“okay,” you relent. “let’s go home.”

choso kisses your hand and smiles at you, relief written all over his face.

“you didn’t deserve that choso, i’m really sorry they said all those horrible things to you.”

“’s fine,” he says dismissing it. “my wonderful wife did my hair and tells me how gorgeous she thinks i am every minute of the day. some silly teenager’s words won’t affect me.”

it was easy to see the words had affected him more than he let on, but for now, you decided to let it go. tomorrow you’d talk to him and offer reassurance properly and make his day extra special, but for now you’d let it go, seeing how clearly he wanted to leave it behind.

holding onto his hand, you both turned around and started making your way back home, discussing what you guys should order, already feeling lighter.

“oh babe, let’s invite yuuji over, we could have a family dinner,” you suggested, knowing if there was one thing that would cheer him up, it would be his brother. your husband’s face immediately lights up and he beams at you, nodding his head enthusiastically and agreeing.

it’s sorted then, cuddles with you, then takeout as a family, and then some more cuddles with you both whilst watching a movie.

extra note : geto put pickles on your pastry thinking it was gojo's when he came over the day before. gojo had been annoying him all week, so he decided to hit him where it hurt. when he found out it was yours, he felt terrible and brought extra pastries for you when he next came round.

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kamiversee · 2 days

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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

“Bet you’re thinkin’ of me while he’s fucking you, huh?”

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader

❧ Need To Know | This story was originally written by me on wattpad with different characters. It got deleted & I moved here.

❧ Contents | afab!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, college non-curse au, toxic altercations, angst, reader lowkey hops around between the two, jealousy, possessiveness, slut activities, gen z references, alcohol, fluff, 18+ scenes, porn w plot, etc.

| Chapters |

coming soon ^.^

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faintrustle · 2 days

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POV: You're secretly admiring your teacher, GOJO SATORU from a distance.

Thank you very much to all my followers and to everyone who liked, reblogged, and commented on my posts! I appreciate your kindness. You inspire me to express the things I love even more.

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neptuneblue · 1 day

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◞ SAY IT BACK.

꒰ you and satoru have a situationship. the situation being that he feels lonely and you don’t want him to. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. 3.2k. f!reader. no curses au. big fluff. angsty lore. exes to friends to fake lovers to maybe lovers? mentions of past satoru doing drugs but not anymore. reader's good-natured. reposted from my old account. sfw.

gojo satoru knows better than anyone that there’s nothing worse than destroying your life in a blind rage and being left to stare at and clean up the ruin.

have you ever been so guilty that you’re undeserving of even being apologetic? so shameful that even ‘i’m sorry’ is undoubtedly an insult to the person you harmed?

even though you dated for four years and you both suffered through one of the messiest breakups you’ll likely ever experience, he knows you’ll always love and care for him. you’ll always worry for him. you’ll always be there when no one else can or wants to be. you’ll always be his friend. someone who regards him with fondness. watching how unconditionally you’ll love him but knowing how deeply undeserving he is of it eats him alive at times.

as it stands, you singlehandedly and regularly wreak havoc on his loneliness; you keep forcing all his fear into hiding.

if anyone who knows the truth about your situation asks, you’ll probably say you don’t want him that way anymore, not after all he’s done, but he knows one thing most certainly about the situation you’re both in: you, above any event or perilous and turbulent history you both have resting in the cracks of your foundation, never want him to feel lonely. you say that must be what pushed him to all his vices, his one-and-a-half-year cycle of seemingly endless mistakes: feeling a loss of control and inescapable loneliness. you felt responsible for so long because you left and went to a completely different university so far away from him, but he knows it wasn’t that at all. it was loneliness, sure, but he just got caught up with the wrong crowd. at the time, the two of you were having such a hard time in your relationship. it felt like he was always disappointing you and everyone else. he had no one to turn to. so he let his ‘friends’ talk him into finding companionship in thin, white lines and leading a double life. everything slowly got worse. you said you didn’t know him anymore. he lost so much weight. he dropped out of university without telling anyone. he lost his home. little by little, his life fell into shambles. you left him after finding him completely out of his mind at a party when his mom called and told you all that had been occurring, all that he had been lying very blatantly to you and all of them about. the night you came for him, he let you take him. you were the only one he would let take him away from it all: from the drugs, from the drinking, from the partying. when you showed up and saw him finish a line off the table, you cried when you held out your hand to him and told him, “come on, baby. it’s time to go, okay?” he left with you without hesitation and he apologized so many times, but you wouldn’t hear him out. he got so angry, he just started screaming at you and beating his fists into the dashboard so hard you feared his airbag would accidentally deploy. you left him that night. for good. he was drunk. he was high. you were talking about being done. you were talking about ripping his heart out of his chest. you were talking about four years down the drain. when the haze of his own budding addiction finally passed, he knew that it was he who had thrown everything away because he couldn’t handle the shift in his life from high school to adulthood. satoru recalls being the big man on campus in high school, but everyone started moving on and moving out once it was over. everyone but him. and it was hard. it was hard watching himself amount to nothing, to not have a future. he went from being the one everyone had high hopes for to the one everyone wished would grow up and make something of himself. he met you shortly after graduating high school while working at a restaurant. you and a group of your friends had come in to celebrate your acceptance to your dream school. the moment he saw you, he knew it would be you. he knew it would only ever be you. he knew that your love would be the thing that fuelled him, and for a while it was, but even you grew past him.

satoru was so in love with you, but he was so fucking jealous of you and all that you were. you tried hard to help him become more, but he accepted the fate of his perpetual pity party. growing up is hard. losing the girl you love after four years of making a life together because you started lying and stealing and getting caught up with awful people is hard. but at the end of all the ruin that became of his entire life, he’s grateful that the two of you can still be great friends over time, best friends even. he never stops being sorry for what he did to you, how he left you while claiming to still be by your side. that entire last year and a half of the relationship, he was mentally gone. he had broken up with you in theory, just not in practice. his hesitance was a result of his unwillingness. satoru never wanted to leave you; he just knew that it would be for the best. in his mind, there was no future with him. he wasn’t the kind of guy who could give you this overwhelmingly lavish life. at the time, if you would have settled with him, you’d have been settling for a small-town life of mundane experiences and limited growth, because everyone else seemed to be able to fully fly the coop but him. he was too stagnant for you back then. but you’re still here and he loves you so much for staying even after leaving. you’ve done so much for him to help him, to believe in him. you even did something utterly outlandish for him: agreed to tell his parents the two of you were back together so his mom would feel better about his recovery and stop hovering. she didn’t trust him on his own anymore, but she trusted you. his parents were willing to give him space as long as they believed you were by his side, in both name and proximity. and although it wasn’t true at all, you still agreed because you said you could see he was doing his best. you could see he was serious about changing and improving. you believed in him and his recovery. you agreed their overbearing ways would hinder him, and you helped him. so, he made every excuse to drag you to his parent’s house once every two weeks at least. at first, he said it’s just him trying to ‘regularly check in so they see he’s doing fine’, but you both know the truth of it. it isn’t only because his mother is always thrilled to see you and feels much better about him living an hour away if you’re involved, but also because when you guys are there, you are his girlfriend. you don’t shy from his affection. as much as he wants to kiss you, you let him, and you kiss back. you cradle his face in your palms and give him adoring pecks, smiling at him just like you used to. you still kiss him and lick your lips right after as if to get any taste that may have been left behind. satoru drags you onto his parent’s porch to sit on their front swing just to indulge in a brief moment of unconditional intimacy with you. he keeps you close to his chest, close to his heart where he’s still most certain you belong. any day you’re going to see his parents, from the moment the day starts until the next morning, you’re his girl again. once in a while, he gets to pretend. once in a while, he can grip your waist and bite your lower lip. once in a while, he gets to take his lemons and make lemonade, something refreshing, something doused in sweetness to mask the excessiveness of sourness. those days always make him wonder if that’s what you still want with him but all the history holds you back. it’s different now, though. he thinks you can see it, too. so now, as he stares at his ceiling trying to bear the heaviness in his chest, the weight of how alone he feels, his fingers reflexively tap your name in his call logs. the second the feeling starts to ebb within him, right when the sorrow starts to empty him of all his hope, he always just calls you. you always answer by the second ring. you’re a creature of habit, after all. “bear,” you greet him enthusiastically.

his heart nosedives into a pit of putty. it’s been ten days since the last time either of you spoke to each other. satoru doesn’t bother texting you. he knows it’ll take you ages to reply. you have this awful habit of reading your messages in the notification bar and responding mentally while not actually disengaging from your active task to type out the response, or you’ll type out a response and get distracted before actually hitting send. sometimes you initiate conversations with him and after your second response, it’s radio silence. a week later, you’ll go to check on him and finally hit send on the message you typed out a week ago. he doesn’t bother with it anymore. you’re his busy little bee. that’s what he always calls you because you buzz around, do work, and gather knick-knacks to add to your collection. you’re never in the same place. if he calls you and you’re at home, by the time you’re minutes into the call, you’ve decided to go to a craft store. “hey, bee.” he responds softly, but his voice is chockful of despondency. you notice instantly. you always do. even if he bothers attempting to hide it, you’ll know. “where are you right now?” “at home, why?” you ask casually at first and then you pause for a moment. “are you okay?” the three little words he hates the most. the ones he no longer wants to hear. the prying little question with hidden meanings and underlying presumptions. a simple inquiry that fills everyone with anxiety, himself included. his mistakes are the kinds that linger in everyone who thought to love him’s mind. he’ll never escape what he’s done. all of his displays of fragility and humanity will be met with gentle suspicion before embracing. it’s fine. he knows he deserves it. it’s all just so fucking exhausting, exasperating; it’s all so bleak and ill-omened. at times, he feels like even though he’s recovering, he’ll never really recover. he’ll never recover from the sheer mass of the aftermath, from the vividness of awareness of what his choices have done to everyone else.

i’m so tired of being asked but i’m so thankful you’re still willing to.

the truth is he’s not okay. not at all. today, he’s obsessively ruminating over all the wrongs he can’t seem to right, all the rights that don’t hold any weight when held up to them all. he’s not okay. today, all the consequences of his actions are settling into his chest, making a home out of his hope and leaving it in ruins. today, the weight of your absence is taking a wrecking ball to his resolve. but the last thing he wants to do is make you worry about his emotional state because then you’ll start to wonder about what he’s doing to cope with it. then you’ll hover and your presence will start to become an unfortunate burden he bears for the sake of keeping you. he’s only recently been able to re-establish trust with you. he doesn’t want it to waiver because of useless worrying. “yeah,” he breathes. “i’m just…alone tonight and thoughts are spiraling a little bit? just a little. i don’t know. i miss you a lot right now. more than usual and it’s already a lot.”

satoru is the furthest from shy about the lingering intensity of his love for you. and he can attempt to move on, but he chooses not to.

꒰ the question remains if his continued effort to choose you is a product of his guilt or his genuine yearning. ꒱ he knows it as this: he wants to love you for as long as he’s capable of doing so, even if it’s unrequited, even if you never truly see him the way you once did. he’ll choose to love you anyway; it’s the absolute least he can do, even if he gets nothing out of it. but when he thinks about it thoroughly enough, he knows good and well that isn’t the case. there’s plenty he’s receiving from this dynamic; it’s just not exactly what he wants.

those are called consequences.

you sigh on the other side of the phone. “missing you, too. are you going to drag me to a family dinner soon? i also miss your parents.” satoru knows you’ll never blatantly reject him but you can never fully accept him either. it does not deter him from his endeavor to reclaim you despite it. “yes, and with glee.” he responds without a lick of hesitation. “that’s the only time i can kiss you. you know i’ll never pass up the opportunity to kiss my favorite lips.” he hears you stifling your giggle and the feathery sound falls into his ears like an answered prayer. now, he feels hope again. he indulges in it, but he’s fully aware that it’ll be short-lived. when it comes to you, he would rather drown in a sea of delusion, a river of denial, before fully accepting that he’s unlikely to ever make his way back into the center of your heart or into the depths of your affection. “you’re taking advantage of my kindness for personal gain, tsk.” you click your tongue at him but your tone is teasing.

it’s not that. it’s just that i’ll probably love you forever.

“never, baby.” he promises. a small beat passes by before he continues. “i love the fuck out of you. with all my heart, bee. you know that.” you suck in an audibly sharp breath. “you’re too bold, gojo.” “say it back, bee.” his voice is low, the small plea just a smidgen above a whisper. he knows he shouldn’t ask, knows he doesn’t even have the right, only the audacity, but he also knows that every time he gets you alone, he’s going to try to weasel his way back in any way. “you know how i feel.” it’s a small, resolute blurb of truth. he does know how you feel. you love him; perhaps not in the same way as you once did, but you love him in your own, unorthodox way. otherwise, why else would you agree to a false continuation of four years you both spent in love, of four years that went up in flames and ended in catastrophic devastation? “i do know. say it anyway.” his desperation is showing again. “just give me something. anything.” “you know what you will and won’t hear from me.”

and you know what i will and won’t give up on.

he smiles, fully prepared to goad you with the sweetest of reminders. he wants you to remember who he was to you, who he’s still equipped to be. “you still love your bear.” he murmurs, feeling all of his infatuation and fondness singing again. “he’s still here waiting on you.” what follows is the stammer of a girl who’s been ambushed, caught in flagrante delicto. “w-well…you need to stop waiting. you’re only going to hurt your own feelings.”

i’m not just waiting. i’m loving, too. overflowing sometimes. i feel my heart buried in guilt. i just want to say sorry and it be alright that i mean it.

“c’mon, baby. say it back.” his tenderness is showing again. “us being together makes my parents happy anyway.” in the background, satoru hears a continuous white noise and he snickers then. he’s all too familiar with the sound of you driving. he wonders when you muted the phone just to close your car door. as if that would keep him from knowing. “where’s my bee going?” he asks with loving intonation. “out,” you reply, a soft curtness in your voice. “when are you going to see your parents this week?” satoru scoffs, a tiny pang in his chest reminding him that he’s only earned being wounded. “don’t you dare try to change the subject. you weren’t even subtle about it.” there must be lead in your sigh with the heaviness it carries as it falls. “have you thought about telling them the truth about us? or even just that we’re not together?” “why the fuck would i do that?” satoru asks incredulously. “eventually you’ll have to tell them, satoru. we can’t keep pretending. it’s…emboldening you.”

i’m not emboldened. i’m not pretending. i’ll love you until the day i die.

“so…let’s stop pretending.” he begs in a desperate whine. “let’s try again. baby, i promise i’m not…i’m not doing the same things that ruined us before. i’m ready.” you go silent and satoru suddenly understands the meaning of a pregnant pause. after a moment, a soft sniffle and a quiet murmur. “bear,”

i can feel you aching to dip your toes. i see you dancing along the cusps of caving.

“i love when you call me that, bee.” right now, all he has is the gentleness he’s been shaping up and polishing for you in his spare time. “i miss you. i miss us so much. miss you being mine. miss waking up to you. miss being able to love you.” “no, satoru.” you protest, frustration apparent but he doesn’t care. he’s posing the question; he needs an answer. he’s pouring his heart into you; he needs you to keep it. “we. can’t. do this.” now, his impatience is showing. “why? because you know you feel it, too? you’re still my bee. i’m still your bear. i’m getting my shit together. i’m trying. i want to keep trying. with you.”

there it is again, your god-awful silence. please tell me there’s even a centimeter’s worth in the length of your willingness. that’s all i need to wedge myself back in.

his chest rises and falls, lungs expanding and restricting with haste, suddenly overcome with a sense of alarm. he’s scared right now. he shouldn’t be going for it, but he is. he shouldn’t go thinking he’s worthy of you, but he wants to be. “satoru,” you call. the panicked tone of a hopeful man. “yes, bee?” “you’re insane today, spouting off all kinds of nonsense.” you release a soft sigh. “but…i’m on my way over. let’s watch a movie or something? it seems like you feel alone.”

i do.

“i hate when you feel alone.”

i know.

it may sound like it’s a burden on you, but he knows it’s just frustration, love, and compassion. “it’s not nonsense.” he tells you very quietly. “but i’ll leave the door unlocked for you. you know i hate when you talk and drive so let’s hang up here, yeah?” “yeah,” you breathe, and his heart aches at that warmth in your agreement. “see you soon.” and of course, his relentless declaration follows. “i love you.” “you’re not going to stop, god.” a tortured groan followed by an abysmal sigh. “ditto.”

it’s something, so it’s everything.

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mubabee · 2 days

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Nothing muchhh just gojo sleeping on your bum and geto licking you (i’ve been a lil bit obsessed with geto lately)

#jjk #y/n #x reader #jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #y/n x character #x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #geto x y/n #geto x you #art #digital art #anime #fanart

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irisintheafterglow · 2 days

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Hey there!

Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)

But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???

Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope

Lots of love!!! you're amazing!

aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))

cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating

"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."

"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.

"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.

"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.

"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."

"i'm fine, satoru."

"you've been working yourself too much, you know."

"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.

"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"

"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."

"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."

"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"

"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"

"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"

"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."

"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"

"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.

"satoru, i swear-"

"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"

"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."

"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.

"oh, i would."

"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.

"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"

"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #ask iris!

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luna-andra · 16 hours

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Gojo promised he would stop eating your sweet, dripping pussy if you could hold back an orgasm by the time he finished spelling his name on your clit. Three times over. “Aww, my poor thing is trembling~” he taunts you in between devious tongue flicks. “It’s all up to you, sweet girl. I’ll stop when you decide to stop rewarding me with this perfect cunt.”

Your back was arching again and you babbled out his name as he pulled another mind numbing orgasm from you, this time gushing all over him. More for him to devour, and devour he did. Fuck, it didn’t matter if your thighs tried to close in on his head, there was millimeters of space keeping you from crushing him in a hold. The flat of his tongue pressed down on your aching pussy once more, making him groan at the taste of you.

“C-can’t take ‘nymore, ‘Toru…” you sobbed, but it didn’t matter. You could feel the scroll of an S pattern on your clit again, and you wonder when the hell this man was going to get a cramp in his sinful tongue.

I made a Ko-fi if you want to support my work 🖤

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo ramble #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk smut #ok maybe now that I wrote this I can return to other things lol

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noirflms · 1 day

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DO YOU FEAR — gojo satoru

you make him ponder, you make him wonder. and it is you who make him fear.

do you fear anything, satoru?

gojo satoru still remembers the way these words had rolled of your tongue like sweet nectar. you had asked this with eyes flaming with curiosity, he could see you were pondering if the strongest you know of feared anything. your voice still rings in the back of his mind, it is raw, honeyed, it brings him to the ground, sets him in reality.

no, i don’t fear anything. i am the strongest after all.

and he had answered then, without a thought, ne second glances over it or anything, unhesitating, he spoke as soon as he had conjured the answer in his mind. he remembers the way your lips had broken into a smile, it was somber yet soft, warm and gentle.

he wondered what could have been if he had kissed those lips someday. how soft they could have possibly been and did they taste sweet? because you always had this scent so sweet lingering on you; your lips must taste the same then.

“what are you thinking about, mr. gojo?” your voice again. it ground him, it shackles him back to reality. he turns to face you, blindfold discarded in the comfort of his office, icy eyes taking you in. the face of yours that is cascaded with the golden glow of the sun, it dawns on you — and the image burns within his vision.

“nothing.” satoru answers. you were breathtaking in any way possible. you were divine. you were everything he wished was his. you were all that he has ever yearned for.

you are a sweet fruit he wishes to bite into, until the sweet and saccharine juices have dripped and settled onto his tongue, until he has finally washed his hunger, he wishes to feast on this fruit. but you were of the forbidden one, only the fortunate could have you — and he was not so fortunate.

and as unfortunate he was, his students were to. shibuyu had turned into a nightmare, blood and deaths painted those walls, there was no way out. gojo watches, he has fought a war before, and he had fought well, but it is only this time his heart races not is excitement but in fear.

fear that consists of many things, he fears of lives, young and dead, he fears of souls that he has stayed long with — he fears of losing you.

“don’t you die on me, satoru.” you had said. still the most warmest smile plastered onto your face, it irked him for it never faded, it always stayed. even when geto died, even when riko died and even when all that he had took time to build was crumbling, yet he doesn’t hate you, for you were smiling at him, pulling him out of the dark, helping him climb out of the trenches of despair.

and so he smiled the same, warm and big hands caressing your face, “i won’t even dream about it.” gojo answered, and your gaze softens and you too wonder if you kissed his lips would they be as sweet as the delicious and sugary delicacies he eats and you too wonder if his lips truly as so sickly sweet.

his touch stays as he doesn’t let go, but it falters hesitantly. he gives you one last smile before he walks again into war, all you could see of him, was the back that has carried many, the back of the strongest sorcerer that is. you would have laughed in high-school but now as he walks with a head held high, you truly believe he might just be the strongest.

you love her, satoru.

he truly does. he loves you. gojo truly adores you, his heart belongs to you. even in a crowded room, his eyes would always look for you. he would always wait for you. and as he returns from the bindings of the prison, he doesn’t return to warm arms, even if he looks for them, he is breathless and he fears.

“where is she?” he chokes. tears. the strongest did not cry but he still has a heart, enough to hold someone dear and shed a few tears. gojo stares at shoko, she to has been lost, she has seen death and murder, she had cured and she had let souls rest in peace, but here as she too stands before satoru, she feels her heart squeeze.

“she is . . . breathing.” like a warm prayers shoko ends as soon as she had begun. she let’s him through, she let’s him see. and she sees satoru fear; he feared to face loss again.

and as beautiful as you has always been, you lay in a slumber, your heart still beating, you lay breathing. you looked divine, so ethereal in this deep sleep. satoru hums, hand reaching out to caress your face, you are there, yet not. there still sits that saccharine smile on your face, even if you might be standing before death.

and this time his wonder is proved true, when he cannot take it anymore, and he sets his lips on yours. sweet. you taste sweet. soft lips pressed against his, you are warm, you are gentle, and he aches, yearning for you to awaken.

do you fear anything, satoru?

and it rings again in the mind of his. and maybe this time – only if you could ever hear his answer – his answer might have made you grin your warm smile. for gojo satoru finally had something to fear, even the strongest could have something to fear, a weakness.

so, gojo satoru feared. feared that he might not be able to hold you again. to see you smile again, to hear your melodious laughter echo through the hallways, to fearing that your warms eyes could never stare back into his. to fearing your touch would be forgotten, to fearing that you would but turn memory.

he finally accepts, he let’s it sink in, letting it bite into his flesh and ingrain itself into his mind and soul. gojo satoru finally had something to fear.

i do. i fear of losing you.

but only if you could hear what he had to say.

satoru angst is at peak then why should i stay behind ‼️‼️🗣️ and thank you so much for a 700 followers ⭐️⭐️

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madaqueue · 12 hours

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forty-love

pairing: satoru gojo x suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: tennis player gojo, tennis player geto. smut. language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (baby, sweetheart), fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), oral (f receiving, very brief m receiving), creampie, cum eating, p in v (doggy, reverse cowgirl). 18+, MDNI

word count: 5.1k

a/n: can you guys tell i watched challengers and miss tennis also yay my first stsg smut (based on their vibes from hidden inventory bc they're just so silly teehee) hope y'all enjoyyy (i also have no idea how this got so long oops)

Heat radiates off the court, the sun beaming down against your skin. The air is dry, tense, the only sound between the chirping cicadas is the bright green tennis ball being thrown against the ground.

Once.

Twice.

Gojo readies his racquet, tossing the ball into the air as his eyes meet the glaring sun. In one swipe the crack of his serve electrifies the stadium. The opposing team swings but doesn’t even come in contact with his hit, the ball rattling the fence behind them as applause breaks out.

“And with that, Gojo and Geto have won the men’s doubles!” the announcer’s voice booms through the arena.

The white-haired boy tosses his racquet aside as he charges his teammate, gripping him in a hug as they tumble across the court. Even from the stands their grins are palpable, the shared ecstasy of victory radiating off their bodies.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Y’know,” Gojo starts through a mouthful of orange slices, “that backhand you hit during the second set was crazy.”

“Satoru,” Geto chuckles, “you know it’s rude to talk with food in your mouth.” Reaching up a hand, he wipes away the juice that had begun trickling down the other boy’s chin with his thumb. “But thank you. That’s what practice gets you.”

“I practice!” Gojo retorts, continuing to chew the flesh of the fruit.

“When, between all the beer and girls?” Suguru takes a long sip of his Gatorade, his dark eyes never wavering from the bright cerulean of his friend’s.

“S’not my fault I know how to balance work and play,” he teases. “Speaking of which, you’re going to the Nike party with me tonight.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Satoru, we have our final match against each other tomorrow, and I’m not planning to throw the game because you just so happen to convince me to join you in your debauchery.”

“Yes,” Gojo smirks, “because I’m gonna be there, and I refuse to go without you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Geto acquiesces, unable to refuse Satoru’s dramatic pout as he bats his eyelashes. “Fine, but you have to at least let me win a set when we play tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Satoru beams, filling his mouth with another slice of orange.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The party is loud, neon lights glaring against the darkness of the night. Music blares as miscellaneous players chat, chasing whatever brand deal or sponsorship they think they deserve.

You’re better than that, though - after all, you already have your scholarship lined up for school next year, a full-ride to play tennis until you graduate college. The peace of that knowledge allows you to stand at the outskirts of the party, idly sipping your drink, unpressured to force a conversation with those around you.

When Gojo and Geto walk in, you swear you feel the air thicken. Recruiters flock to them, opponents run from them, but everyone who’s anyone knows that they’re here. You roll your eyes at the theatrics, turning your attention to tug at the hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” a sudden voice appears beside you as the smell of cologne hits your senses, the scent vaguely reminiscent of the ocean. Glancing up, your eyes meet the brightest blue ones you’ve ever seen. “I’m Gojo,” he introduces, extending his hand out.

Crossing your arms, you smirk. “I know who you are.”

Behind him, another man suddenly appears, his dark hair pulled back into a bun. “I’m Geto,” he waves, not willing to enter the trap of your rejection by offering his hand.

Gojo’s lips form into a sly grin as he eyes you up. “Well, we know who you are, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he tilts his head - god, he was cocky. “You won the women’s singles today, we caught the end of your game. You played well.”

Taken aback at his genuine compliment, you almost let your guard down, relaxing your shoulders. “T-thanks,” you stammer, suddenly taking in the reality of being flattered by the Satoru Gojo.

“But,” he smirks, “you should’ve won an hour before we got there - your opponent had a weak spot on her forehand volley, you should’ve exploited it.”

And there’s the overconfidence.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Thanks,” you reply sarcastically, turning to leave, “but I don’t remember asking you to be my coach.”

“You haven't, yet.” A devilish smile is plastered on Satoru’s face, illuminated by the glowing lights around you.

“What he means to say,” Suguru interrupts, shooting a momentary glare at his friend, “is that we’d love to play with you sometime. You’re really good, and we can tell you have a lot of potential.”

Your cheeks involuntarily blush at his kindness, his honesty.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it,” you mumble through the grin beginning to form on your face, still gathering your things to go. The noise of the music was beginning to blur your vision, your head pounding after a full day in the sun. Your muscles hurt, and you just want to collapse into the uncomfortable mattress in your hotel room.

“Leaving already?” Gojo teases as you begin to walk away from the pair.

Geto smacks his arm before looking at you apologetically. “If you’re staying at the same hotel the competition put all the players up in, there’s a way home that goes right along the ocean, if you want us to walk with you?”

“Didn’t you guys just get here, though? Don’t you want to stay and get courted by brand deals or something?” you ask somewhat rhetorically, incredulous that they would choose to leave with you.

“Psh, like we need it,” Gojo rolls his eyes.

With that, Suguru fully shoves him, his lanky limbs nearly catching over a nearby chair before he regains his balance, a pout evident on his face as he stares at the dark-haired man. “Again, what Satoru means is that he’s already got a Nike sponsorship, and I’m on a scholarship for next year; we only came tonight because we had to make an appearance.”

The gentleness in his voice inspires trust, a certain warmth to him that invites you in. Sighing, you accept their shared offer. “Well, I guess if we’re walking the same way back anyways, you might as well join me.”

A soft grin spreads across Suguru’s features as he leads you and a falsely-dejected Satoru from the venue.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

The soft sounds of waves crashing fills your ears from where you kneel along the beach, sand scratching at your bare thighs. The two men sit across from you, Satoru’s head resting on Suguru’s shoulder, his white hair illuminated under the moonlight. Somehow your walk home had detoured when they promised to show you their favorite spot, one they had found when they competed here a few years prior: the cove where you currently rest is private, away from the noise of the party or any other remnants of society. It’s peaceful.

You clear your throat, finally breaking the silence. “You two played well today too, y’know.”

Geto lights up at your words, a new excitement brewing beneath his skin. “You watched our game?” His hands continue methodically working over Gojo’s calves which sprawled across his lap, releasing the tension he had built up from their earlier match.

“Of course I did,” you hum, your fingers absentmindedly drawing small patterns into the sand. “I wouldn’t have missed your game for the world. You two are about to qualify for the Open, and I honestly think you have a good shot at winning it.”

“Oh, we’re gonna win it,” Gojo states matter-of-factly, his gaze lazily focused on the sky above you.

You can’t help but laugh at his confidence, the sound bubbling from your throat against the stillness of the night air. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because,” he begins, rising from where he rested against Geto, locking eyes with you, “we’re the best.”

“You aren’t the best,” you scoff in reaction. Hearing your own words, your face suddenly flushes in embarrassment - you did not just insult the two top-ranked tennis players in the country, did you?

Satoru pulls himself onto his hands and knees, leaning forward towards you as his eyes glimmer with the excitement of a challenge. Suguru’s hand rests on his back, ready to pull him back down if he oversteps (as he often does).

“Oh yeah?” he taunts, inching closer to you. “And why is that?”

“Because what you play isn’t tennis.”

Your words seem to stun the two boys, their actions suddenly halting as they turn to you. Allowing a moment of silence to settle, your gaze falls on the waves before you, the calmness soothing your thoughts.

“Tennis is electricity, an ocean. It’s a back and forth, a give and take. All I saw out there was you taking.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with taking what I want,” Gojo smirks, “especially when what I want is to win.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you follow, “but it’s not tennis.” Standing, you brush the sand from your skirt. “I hope to see you two actually play tennis tomorrow.”

Before you can leave, Geto’s voice breaks the silence.

“Come by our room tonight,” he purrs, gathering his confidence. “I’ll show you I know more than just how to take.”

A glimmer of mischief twinkles in your eyes as you turn to him, a sly smile growing across your face. “I’ll think about it.”

Turning, you walk across the beach back to the hotel.

In your absence, Gojo playfully smacks Geto’s arm. “Holy shit dude, that was smooth!” he laughs. “You think it’s actually gonna work for us?”

“‘Us’?” Geto smirks. “I was the one putting in all the work back there, you were just being an overconfident ass.”

“Psh, girls love my confidence,” he chuckles, a sound like raindrops falling on the calm waters of the sea. His blue eyes nearly glow under the moonlight, a brightness to them that’s never lost on Suguru. “Better head back and get ready for our date, though.”

“You keep saying ‘our,’” Geto teases, a newfound warmth beginning to cover his body in contrast to the cool night air as the two stand to leave.

“You know it’s always you and me, buddy,” Satoru smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders as they plod through the sand. “You and me.”

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

A knock alerts Gojo and Geto, who had been laying across the floor of their shared hotel room, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Satoru reaches the door first, swinging it open and welcoming you inside. Suguru, meanwhile, remains seated on the floor, his eyes covering your body as you saunter towards him: the curve of your thighs perfectly captured under your tennis skirt, the dip of your shoulders under your tank top, somehow a perfect balance of strength and poise.

Crossing your legs, you seat yourself across from Geto; Gojo is quick to join, holding out a beer to you. Shortly after he cracks open his own, he tosses another to Suguru as he spreads his legs out into the space between the three of you.

Tension builds in the air, an unspoken question forming in the back of your minds: why are you really here?

Even you weren’t certain - sure, Geto and Gojo were hot, and talented, obviously, a true force to be reckoned with in the tennis world. But more than that, they had a certain reputation, a gravitational pull to them. Anyone who got close to the pair was launched into fame, their very presence enough to garner wealth by proxy. And, yes, you had your scholarship, but was it a sin to want more? You had dreamt of going pro since you were old enough to hold a racquet, and now, with the two of them seated before you, it finally feels within your grasp.

Satoru clears his throat. “So, did your boyfriend happen to catch your game today?” he raises his eyebrows.

Gojo was many things, but subtle was not one of them.

“No,” you state, your gaze maneuvering between the two. They shift uncomfortably, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

They both visibly relax, grinning in unison.

“Good,” Suguru hums, almost inaudible above the hum of the air conditioning.

“What about you, did your girlfriends watch you play?” you smirk, bouncing the question back to them.

Geto is quick to shake his head, “Don’t have one,” he smiles easily.

Leaning forward, Gojo ruffles his friend’s hair, which now hangs loosely over his shoulders, released from the bun that held it earlier in the night. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” he purrs, tilting his head towards Geto, “his lips haven’t touched a woman’s in a while.”

Suguru roughly shoves him off, a sigh leaving his lips. Turning his attention to you, he forces his frown into a weak smile. “I promise, I’ve kissed plenty of girls.” Tilting your head slightly in jest, his words finally register in his mind. “N-not like that, just, I-”

“I think she gets it,” Gojo jokes, pulling himself from where he landed on the ground to sit behind his friend.

Another momentary silence falls, the energy between you crackling in expectation. Satoru’s hands find their way back to Suguru’s body, idly massaging his shoulders as the pair fixes their gaze on you. Behind Gojo’s irises lies burning hot flames; behind Geto’s, well-controlled embers.

“So,” you eye the boys seated across from you, a subtle intimacy underlying their actions, the gentle motion of Satoru’s fingers into Suguru’s skin, “have you two ever kissed?”

“No.” Geto answers immediately.

“Well…” Gojo trails off with a smirk, “remember that one time?”

Suguru shoots him a glare that could kill, eyes cold despite the fire behind them. “That doesn’t count.”

Leaning forward, a grin tugs at the corners of your lips as the rough carpet digs into your skin. “Oh, do tell?”

Gojo mimics your motions, pulling himself onto his knees in front of you. “Around the time we met, Suguru here, the sweetheart he is, got himself a girlfriend but hadn’t had his first kiss yet. So I, being the generous friend that I am, helped teach him how to do it.”

Glancing at Geto, a redness spreads across his cheeks, one that could be designated as rage or embarrassment, either an appropriate reaction to the information that had been unexpectedly revealed. “That was years ago, Satoru,” he grumbles.

“So you’re saying you’re a pro now, Geto?” you purr, egging him on as you place your palms in front of you, the air between you two sparking. “Why don’t you show me what Gojo taught you then, hm?”

A hint of panic lies behind his gaze as he meets yours, taking in a steadying breath. Despite the hesitation in his mind, his body knows he wants this, wants you. Without a word, he lifts a hand to your face, cupping your jaw against his rough fingertips. Pulling you in, his lips meet yours.

He’s soft, calculated, as he kisses you. Parting his lips he gently swipes his tongue along your lower lip, bringing you closer and closer. He’s patient and reserved, just like how he plays.

Separating for a moment, a small smile appears on his face before you turn your attention to the man next to you.

“Alright, Gojo, let’s learn from the coach,” you hum.

Immediately he crawls over to you, a complete and utter lack of hesitation as his hands find you, one moving to the nape of your neck and the other to your hip.

As his lips crash into yours, he’s demanding, ravenous. His tongue roughly works its way into your mouth, exploring it like his first taste of water after hours on the court, like he’ll never get to kiss you again.

Pulling away, you smile, eyes covering the two men seated in front of you. “Okay, c’mere,” you grin as you seat yourself at the end of their pushed-together twin beds.

“W-which one of us?” Geto asks.

As the words hit the air, Gojo is already moving, plopping himself down at the edge of the bed as he looks at you expectantly. Blinking at his friend’s sudden motion, Suguru follows quickly, seating himself on your other side.

Your eyes meet Gojo’s, a hint of mischief behind the cerulean, before turning to Geto, hesitation and nervousness spread across his features. Might as well make this interesting.

Shifting your body into Suguru’s, his eyelashes flutter closed as your lips meet his again. Grabbing at his shirt, you tug him closer.

“Loosen up,” you murmur into his mouth as your hands travel over his body.

Behind you, Gojo’s envy gets the best of him as he reaches around your torso. Placing open-mouth kisses along your neck, his palms travel over your chest, groping at your tits through your bra. He melds into you from behind as a moan escapes your throat, the warmth of their bodies blanketing you. Geto begins moving his arms, grabbing at any inch of your skin he can find. Before you realize it, your clothes are discarded, the boys’ shirts lost to the depths of the dirtied hotel room. Skilled fingers trace the curves of your body, tingles of electricity left in their wake.

Gojo chuckles behind you as his hands find their way between your legs, fingertips tracing your clothed cunt, sending a shiver up your spine.

“A bit eager, are we?” he teases, pulling your soaked panties to the side.

Any insults you began to form die in your throat as his long fingers enter you, a choked, “fuck” the only thing you can get out in response. His fingertips prod at your gummy walls, finding the spot that has you rocking your hips forward, grinding yourself onto him. Your moans echo into Geto’s mouth as you chase your release.

Right as you feel the heat inside you threatening to overflow, Gojo’s motions still.

“W-why’d you stop?” you practically whine, finally breaking away from your kiss with Suguru to face him over your shoulder.

That annoying smirk is plastered on Satoru’s face as he leans forward, his hot breath tickling your skin as his lips brush against yours.

“That was me giving, now it’s my turn to take.”

Gojo’s arms reach around you to push Geto back onto the bed, your body still trapped between the two as you catch yourself on all fours. The dark-haired man looks up at you, stunned into silence as his hands rest tentatively on your hips. You gasp as Satoru suddenly pulls your panties down, the cool air hitting your heat.

Your gaze lands on Suguru’s, your eyes wide before you feel the pressure of Gojo’s cock pressing against your entrance from behind you. Your jaw slacks as your eyes roll back, the stretch of him overcoming your senses as he slides in inch by inch. Geto takes the opportunity to latch his lips to yours, imprecisely sucking against your soft skin.

Satoru’s moans fill the space as he bottoms out inside you. “Fuuuuuck, y’feel so good,” he groans, his pelvis resting against your ass.

As he pulls his hips away, his tip barely kissing your folds, his rough fingertips are suddenly felt against your clit. He imprecisely circles the sensitive bud as he thrusts back into you. In unison, you and Geto moan into each other through the kiss.

“Keep strokin’ me, jus’ like that, mmm,” Suguru hums from beneath you.

Fighting against the haze of your ecstasy as Gojo continues rolling his hips into you, you manage to focus your gaze downward, finding Satoru’s free hand wrapped around Suguru’s cock, precum smearing as he pumps his length.

“S’not - ah - me,” you manage to get out through Gojo’s increasingly rough thrusts.

Geto’s eyelids flit open, landing on Gojo’s over your shoulder. As soon as the two make eye contact, Satoru squeezes Suguru slightly harder as his thumb circles his tip, forcing his eyes back into his skull as his hips thrust desperately into his friend’s first.

Satoru chuckles from behind you as he begins to kiss up your spine, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His teeth nibble at your skin, the slight pain making your back arch further, letting his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you. From the new angle, he hits the same spot he proudly found moments prior.

“R-right there, Gojo, fuck,” you moan, your hands tightly gripping the sheets to stabilize yourself against the weight of his body on top of you.

From beneath you, Geto’s cock twitches in Gojo’s palm as he weakly breathes, “Call him Satoru.”

“Mhm, y’know me so well, Sugu,” Satoru purrs.

His thrusts are unrelenting, imprecise, needy. He’s working purely off instinct and lust as he pumps in and out of you.

“Satoru,” you whine, his motions pulling you closer and closer to your release.

“Y’gonna cum?” he breathes into your neck.

You would roll your eyes at the fact that you can practically hear his smirk through his words before a particularly deep thrust pulls a choked “a-ah mmm” from you.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Gojo chuckles. “Me too, baby, me too.”

His tip repeatedly prods against your sweet spot as his thumb picks up its pace against your clit.

“Hey, Suguru,” the man thrusting into you purrs, “tell me, does she look pretty when she creams all over my cock?”

Geto’s eyes flicker open, his gaze hazy as Satoru continues palming his shaft. Suddenly, your vision goes blind in ecstasy. Broken cries escape your throat as Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, painting your insides white, his hips never stilling as he fucks you through your high.

As you come down, Suguru’s words pull you back to reality. “Yeah,” he breathes from below you, “she looks real pretty.”

“Aww,” Gojo fake whines, “well that’s no fair.” He pulls out, his cum threatening to trickle down your thighs as he removes himself from Geto’s cock to grab the man’s hand. Pulling him up, he spins you around so Suguru is seated with you in his lap, your back pressed against his chest. “Now I wanna see her cum while you fuck her, Suguru,” Gojo hums.

With that, the white-haired man kneels before you, one palm resting on your thigh as his fingers spread open your folds. He slowly rubs the mix of your shared essence over your puffy cunt, his eyes full of awe.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. Turning his attention back to you and Geto, he smirks. “You’re gonna love fucking it, Sugu.”

Finally taking his initiative, Geto lifts you up slightly, just enough to allow his hardened cock to press against your needy hole. Slowly sinking down on his length, another shaky groan vibrates your throat as he stretches you, a searing pleasure against your walls as he fucks Gojo’s cum back into you.

“S-shit,” Suguru mutters, “feels s’good.”

His hands return to your hips, guiding you forward as you grind against him. He’s slow, methodical, in the way he fucks you, a certain precision to his motions.

“Just like that,” Gojo hums from beneath you, “y’look so perfect.”

Your mind is too clouded to decipher if he’s speaking to you or Geto, and truthfully, you don’t care. You continue rocking yourself forward, Suguru’s cock stretching you so sinfully. He may not have Satoru’s length, but fuck, is he thick. Soft moans escape your lips as you lean your head back into Geto, who takes over where Gojo left off, pressing wet kisses over the skin of your neck. Suddenly, Satoru latches his mouth onto your cunt, his tongue circling your clit as he moans into you.

“Y’taste s’good,” he groans, continuing to lap at your folds, the mixture of his seed and your slick coating his chin.

One of your hands instinctively reaches to grab his hair, pulling him into you as the other holds onto the back of Geto’s neck, tethering you to reality.

Feeling the tug at his scalp, Satoru smirks into your skin. “That feel good, sweetheart?”

The moment you open your mouth to respond he sucks at your clit with a new ferocity, cutting your reply short as it transforms into a garbled moan of “y-ahh mhm.” Gojo chuckles beneath you at your incoherent response, his breath hot. So fucking smug.

Suguru lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you as he gradually picks up his pace. “You’re just - hah - flattering yourself, ‘Toru.”

Gojo smiles devilishly against you as he replaces his mouth with his thumb, rubbing unfocused circles into your bud. Lowering himself, he licks a languid stripe up the base of Geto’s cock from where he enters you before gently placing the man’s heavy balls into his mouth, sucking lightly.

Suguru’s motions stutter as he moans, his teeth biting into your shoulder in an attempt to silence himself from the buzz of pleasure that suddenly overcomes him at the new sensation.

“Seems like the flattery was warranted,” Gojo hums before his lips return to your clit, sucking softly as tension builds within your chest.

You can’t even tell where you begin and they end, the searing kisses along your neck, the sounds of your shared moans filling the space. Suguru’s hips grow increasingly desperate yet restrained, small thrusts into your cunt as Satoru’s tongue continues flicking over your core. Geto’s body remains stiff beneath you as you roll your hips against him.

“Let y’self go, Suguru,” you slur, your mind too fuzzy to process the words, only sensing the tension he holds.

Geto’s palms hesitantly grow greedier as he grips at your skin, allowing himself to chase his own high. His motions get rougher, thrusts deeper; he’s always felt that carnal part inside of him, the one labeled desire, yet he would never give into it. But something in your words, the heat of your body, breaks him free of his self-imposed cage.

His grip on your hips tightens as he holds you in place, fucking himself up into you. He’s grunting in effort, beads of sweat forming across his forehead as his fingertips dig into your skin. His motions are sloppy and rough, but so fucking good. Finally, he’s feeling it.

“Mm, I - ah - m’close,” you whine, his messy thrusts hitting every spot inside you so perfectly. The two men hum into you in acknowledgement, continuing their fervent motions.

Wet sounds of pleasure echo through the room as you get closer, until finally, the cord inside you snaps. Broken moans of their names leave your throat as you come undone, your walls fluttering around Suguru’s cock enough to send him over the edge with you. Throwing his head back, he allows himself to feel it all, take everything you’re willing to give him - as wave after wave crashes over him, his body shaking, he finally feels free.

“So, so pretty,” Gojo hums as his gaze darts between you and Suguru, watching you two be overtaken in euphoria, together.

Satoru’s tongue never slows as he messily laps at your essence, still kneeling between your legs. Your body feels electric as you come down from the height of your ecstasy, every nerve vibrating in pleasure. The mix of Gojo and Geto’s cum feels warm inside you as it slowly drips from your cunt. With a sly grin, Satoru collects the sticky mixture on his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed as he swallows. Without a word he rises from his knees, leaning over you.

Is he about to kiss you?

No, he can’t be.

He presses his chest into you as his palms cup Suguru’s jaw, the dark-haired man’s gaze unfocused as he watches his friend’s motions. Gojo’s blue eyes are nearly black from his blown pupils, Geto’s kiss-bruised lips parted as he pants. Silently, Satoru presses his lips to Suguru’s. Their tongues swirl against each other’s, their saliva mixing as the warmth of their bodies covers you, the heat of the kiss threatening to drown you as you’re pulled under, into the current of the moment.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

The crack of the tennis ball echoes through the stadium, each hit adding to the culminating tension hanging in the air. Each stroke was like thunder, each step like lightning as Satoru and Suguru rally.

Gojo hits a forehand down the line, forcing Geto into his weak spot - one only he would know after years of playing together, one Suguru would never dare to exploit of his teammate. Geto falters, missing the shot; a soft gasp erupts through the crowd.

“Forty-love,” the announcer booms, “game point for Gojo.”

Satoru takes his place to serve, absentmindedly bouncing the ball against the court as he readies himself.

Loosen up, Suguru.

Tossing it into the air, he hits a perfectly placed shot, the spin forcing Geto off his feet unexpectedly as he chases the path. It wasn’t what he calculated - yet, you could see it in Gojo’s eyes; you could feel it.

Geto hits an off-balance return, struggling to regain his composure as he returns to center court. For a moment, you lock eyes with him.

Let yourself go, Suguru.

Satoru takes the opportunity, running up to pounce on the arcing, slow shot Suguru returned. He leaps into the air, his racquet held high.

But Geto senses something is off.

The slight smirk at the corner of Gojo’s lips, the glimmer behind his eyes.

If Geto were a betting man, he would run himself back to the opposite corner of the court, preparing to take Satoru’s signature high-speed smash that would win him the game. Yet, for a moment, Suguru lets himself feel it - that’s not the shot his opponent is about to take.

Instead, he rushes the net. The moment his feet plant onto the ground, Gojo’s racquet makes contact with the ball, the slicing motion sending it twisting the exact opposite direction Geto would have predicted as it spins through the air. Landing it exactly where Suguru stands.

Geto volleys, not allowing the ball to make contact with the ground as he sends it back to Satoru’s side behind him. Gojo knows he can’t get to the ball fast enough, and he doesn’t even try; instead, he stands in place where he landed from his last play.

A wide grin forms on Satoru’s face, one of admiration, pride. “Didn’t expect you to get that one, Suguru,” he gleams.

Turning around, Geto’s back faces his opponent as he returns to his place, ready for the next serve. “Your emotions gave you away, Satoru,” he purrs through a smirk.

As Gojo prepares himself to serve again, a new electricity crackles between them. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you watch them play, sweat glistening off their backs as they pour themselves into the game: the back and forth, the give and the take.

This is tennis.

169 notes · View notes

suguella · 11 hours

Text

LESSON IN PRIVATE ꒰ ft satoru gojo ꒱

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : gojo, a fuck boy, insists on getting you to go to a party but since you’ve been failing classes, he offers to help you.

꒰ CONTENT WARNING ꒱ : explicit content, friends with benefits trope, porn with (?) a plot, p in v, fuckboy!gojo, foul language, cunningulus, oral (m + f), nipple play, degrading, and reader is a female.

꒰ AUTHORS NOTE ꒱ : bro this has been in my drafts for so fucking long, enjoy ;) @screampied 🤍.

gojo : party in 2 hours, get ready :)

you : can't, gotta revise.

you were failing classes. that was a big problem and you had one person to blame; Gojo. he always managed to convince you to go to parties with him and, surprisingly, you would always say yes — but that was only because you had a thing for him.

gojo : im coming over

you : well im not opening the door for you

gojo : you’re going to do that to your best friend?

you sigh, staring at your notes. you thought to yourself, should i just fuck it and go? gojo was annoying, so a simple no wouldn’t stop him from dragging you out your house. but then again you were failing.

gojo : im outside, open the door.

you open to see to see a very tall white-haired man smirking at you, “no hi? hello?” you rolled your eyes as he chuckle. you invite him inside before breaking it to him “toru, i need to revise. sorry, but you’re on your own for this one”

“i can help you revise.” he said and you busted out laughing, "not to be blunt and all, but you're just a fuck boy"

gojo smirked, "we'll see about that," and you accepted his offer.

you were on your bed with your legs wide open, gojos face buried in your pussy. He slips your hand between your legs and made you rub your swollen clit. “come y/n you’re almost there.”

he inserts 2 fingers in, pumping vigorously while his other hand pulled on your nipples.

“come on y/n.” you didn’t know the answer only because the pleasure was taking away your concentration.

“fuck toru, i don’t know” he sucks on your pussy lips causing you to tug on his hair. “that’s not the answer baby, try again.”

he sucks on to your clit making an O shape causing your eyes roll back. “t-toru, is it a class of sugars that cannot be hydrolyzed to give a simpler sugar?”

he smirked at you, “good girl but fuck this, i need to be inside you” gojo toke off his boxer, his dick springing out.

“you’re too big” he runs his dick along your folds “sh baby, you can take it.” He holds onto your hips, nails digging into your poor skin as he plunges himself in.

the sound of skin slapping was the second noise compared to hearing you moaning his name.

he watched, seeing you play your erect nipples. you felt his cock twitch and thicken against the hug of your walls, “toru, fuck” your eyes glisten with tears as he stretches you out.

“you can do this y/n” he says as he rocks your body causing you to whimper. with each thrust came a moan, your nails scrape his lower back. he hissed, “careful babe”

you tilt your head back, searching for gojos lips. he reciprocated by grabbing your throat with his free hand and tugs at your top lip with his teeth.

you’re almost there and gojo was too, you both finish, still holding on to each other. he didn’t want to let go of you, at least not yet.

he’d be lying if he said he never wished for this.

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itadodori · 3 days

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lovesick!gojo who couldn’t stop himself from obsessing over you. even when you were sleeping he couldn’t help but become overwhelmed with your beauty. god.. how did he get lucky enough to have you all to himself?? he thought about it a lot honestly. you could have anyone you want, yet you chose him.

“so beautiful.. my baby’s so beautiful.” gojo’s hands grazed the side of your face, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear in the process.

you kept telling him you were tired from work earlier so he let you get some rest, even though what he really wanted was to spread you open then and there.

resisting the urge was so hard. but in the end he let you get about 30 minutes of sleep before continuing with his master plan.

his hands gently spread your thighs apart, handling you with care like always. you were still asleep but gojo knew you would be up soon with the amount of stirring around you were doing.

“mm, gojo?” your eyes fluttered at the feeling of your panties being slid to the side, and familiar hands sliding across your thighs.

gojo didn’t say a word when you called out to him again.. he just continued to spread your legs open— locking them in place.

when his mouth finally met your pulsing clit, you felt a wave of relief. you weren’t expecting him to dive right in so quickly considering he liked to tease you and get you all riled up before following your wishes.

“o-oh my gosh!” you couldn’t help but to moan when you felt his soft lips leaving kiss after kiss to your clit. at this point he was doing it more for his pleasure rather than your own.

“pussy’s so precious baby, gonna lick you up so good,” gojo took the time to just stare at your pulsing cunt in awe, he was so lucky.

“please daddy, please touch me!” you couldn’t wait another moment longer, part of you wanted to just sit on his face and swallow him whole.

gojo chuckled lowly before grabbing your hand and guiding it to your pussy, never taking his eyes off you in the process.

“nuh uh baby.. let’s play with it for a while kay?”

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 jays creation’s #jjk smut #jjk drabbles #jujustu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #anime smut #jjk x reader #jujustu gojo #gojo smut #satoru smut

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calypsocolada · 2 days

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THE GREATEST | s. gojo

synopsis: the greatest has taken in interest in you. authors note: hello. rough two weeks huh. there are no spoilers in this for chapter 261 fyi. ive decided us gojo stans should just steal him from his creator. Who's in? also i am pretty sure this is the longest fanfic I wrote. I was continusly writing for almost a week after that last chapter. OH AND the song the greatest by billie eilish is about gojo and its devastating. this fic is loosely based of the song. cw: ANGST, light smut, happy ending (he deserves it), no spoilers, death impications, fem reader wc: 6.1k

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Gojo had never once questioned his fate. He’s known since he was able to think for himself that he was the strongest. That he was the monster people could turn to to fight the other monsters. He never minded. Not much at least. He knew it was grossly unfair. Knew such a fate pressed on anyone else would have him up in arms but… no one was up in arms for him. No one stood between him and the monsters. No one could. That should’ve hurt him and if he was being completely transparent and honest… it used to. When he was a teen and wasn’t able to hide his emotions as well as he could now. He was a weapon to everyone in the jujutsu society. A weapon and a monster and a savior and the greatest that ever lived. He was revered by his fellow colleagues. Was cheered by his students. He was the greatest weapon to ever live.

But not to you. Not in the ways that mattered to most at least.

A measly second grade sorcerer with little to no battle experience. One that spends her time mostly in the background. Wasting away with Ino. Annoying Nanami. Steering clear of the greatest. When you first came around Gojo was sort of intrigued with you. You were quite pretty, smart and had a smile that made others smile. Gojo liked that about you. He’d do his usual routine… It usually worked. Usually… Gojo would annoy you, he’d try and charm you, he’d flex his powers in front of you and buy you sweets you didn’t ask for. Nothing worked.

When he flirted you’d make this face and although he liked the face you’d make he knew you weren’t impressed with him. It was like you saw right through his bravado. Saw right through the mask he wore, right down to the raw center of him. He knew you saw something sad. He tried to ignore it. Tried to misdirect your intuition but god you were persistent. You were smart. Smarter than anyone he’d ever known. And empathic as hell. It was frustrating. Not a single soul saw him the way you did. And it was all for nothing. You didn’t like him the way he’d come to hopelessly like you. And it wasn’t for lack of trying.

Gojo really tried to make you laugh but you never laughed when he wanted you to, never laughed when he made an effort to. You only laughed when he least expected it. Never when he was loud and boisterous but rather in quiet moments. Moments when he forgot to act like the greatest. Moments when he was Gojo Satoru and not the greatest. That’s how he knew you saw right through him.

There was an instance when you completely threw him into a crisis. It was after a particularly gruesome fight. After all was said and done people clapped him on the back, congratulating him on another easy win. Gojo approached you, hoping for that same kind of hollow congratulations but you didn’t give it to him. You asked him if he was alright. Gojo remembered just standing there, remembering the full ache in his chest, the way you looked up at him with concern. No one ever was concerned for him. He replied something jovial. “Of course, don’t you know who you’re talking to?” And he smiled. But you didn’t return that smile as though he reassured you, you smiled sympathetically and replied.

“Must've forgot.” And then you slipped away. Gojo watched you walk away. Watch Ino run up and grab you by the shoulders. Watched you laugh freely and shake your head at something he said before the two of you left.

A week later Gojo had conned Nanami into having some drinks with him. They sat beside each other, Gojo talking to fill up the dead space and Nanami chugging his third drink.

“Are Y/n and Takuma dating?” Gojo had slipped into the conversation. Nanami gave him a sideways look.

“I don’t know.” Nanami replied after a moment, it sounded more like ‘I don’t care’.

“You’re with them all the time.”

“They’re with me. They bug me.” Nanami sees straight as Gojo sighs.

“So they bug you. But do they do it together?”

“What a stupid question.” Nanami admonishes, shaking his head. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.”

“About Y/n?” Nanami asked and Gojo couldn’t help but look over at him. Nanami wasn’t much of a gossiper, he listened but that was the extent of it. Nanami softly chuckled at the older man’s response and shook his head once more. “No.”

“No, what?”

“They’re not together.”

That was all Gojo needed. He’d never felt threatened before but after seeing you and Takuma together the other day it made him wonder. Well, more than wonder if his lack of sleep the night before proved anything.

The next time Gojo saw you, you were having a quiet lunch in the courtyard. You had a book held lazily in your hand, the other popping grapes into your mouth. Gojo sighed, he’d tried talking to you many times before but his showboating kept you further than arms length. But if he didn’t have his ego to hide behind… What did he have?

“It’s creepy to watch girls eating from afar.” You called over your shoulder. Gojo startled at the sound of your voice, his heart thumping unsteadily in his chest. You turned and when your eyes met his knees almost buckled. He thought for a moment, after his cheeks flushed red, that you smiled. It was a small smile, the corner of your lips barely turning up before you turned back away from him and to your book. He’d talked up many girls. But none of them made him stumble like you did. Nevertheless, Gojo walked forwards to you.

“Thought you were out on a mission?” He asked as you flipped the page of your book, not meeting his eyes.

“Keeping tabs on me?” She asked lazily as Gojo felt his throat tighten. He cleared it and shook his head.

“Just something I was told.” He says and you scoot over, patting the spot beside you. Gojo stood there stuck for a moment. You usually couldn’t get away from him fast enough but here you were, inviting him to spend a moment with you. You looked up when he didn’t take your offer and cracked a brow up.

“Are you busy?” You asked. Gojo instantly shook his head, coming out of his little stuttered trance. He sat down beside you and reached for some of your grapes without asking. You didn’t say anything about it, just placed your bookmark in your book and sat it down on the blanket you’d spread out. “I wanted… to ask you something?” You said after a beat. Gojo’s eyes flicked to yours and up this close he noticed two things, your eyes had specks of gold in them and there was the lightest dusting of freckles across the top of your nose. He realized he was staring at you too long and recovered by grabbing more grapes.

“Hmm, what is it?” He asks as he pops a few in his mouth.

“Do you like sorcery?” The question hung in the air for a moment. Gojo was silent. He’d… never thought about if he liked it before. Never thought about whether these powers he possessed was something he truly wanted or if it was something he needed.

“Why- do you ask?” Gojo asks, his eyes fixed straight ahead rather than on you.

“Just curious.” You said softly. Gojo couldn’t help but look over at you now.

“Of course I like it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He answered and the words tasted sour in his mouth. And just like before you gave him that look, just a small squint of the eyes, your lips pursing barely. He could tell straight away that you heard his lie. You hummed as though intrigued and shifted your stare to be less piercing.

“What’s so great about it?” You asked as Gojo swallowed.

“I’m good at it. I’m the strongest.”

“Yes… everyone is aware you’re the strongest, Satoru.” You brushed off, slightly playfully. Gojo couldn’t get over you saying his name. Saying it that way, with the tiniest emotion in your voice, what he hoped was affection.

“Are you?” Gojo asked. You raised a brow, cocking your head just slightly.

“Am I what?”

“Aware that I’m the strongest.” He says as you blow out a laugh. A laugh, he made you laugh. He recorded it in his mind. He knew he’d probably not get another one of those in a while.

“You don’t let anyone forget it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You go out of your way to prove it. You kill curses that other sorcerers can easily take care of. You put yourself in harm's way over and over again just to get a slap on the back. Of course I know you’re the strongest.”

“I don’t do it for a slap on the back.” Gojo dismisses.

“Why do you do it?”

“Because I have to.”

“Because you have to?” You echo and Gojo nods his head. You stare at him for a moment, before responding. “Cause you’re the strongest.” You didn’t say it as though it was a good thing, you said it as though it was his burden. Something heavy that weighed on his shoulders. It hit him deep. You knew him too well. He felt overexposed at this moment.

“I don’t see anyone else riding my level.” He says, hoping he sounded level, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him.

“No one’s doubting your skill, Satoru.”

“You seem as though you doubt it.”

“I doubt your intentions.”

“My intentions? What do you think I’m secretly going to let curses in to kill all of you?” He laughs sardonically, a little bitterly. Bitter that she saw him in a worse way than he originally thought. You laughed again, it was more of an exhale through the nose but it was another laugh. Two in one day.

“No. I don’t think that.”

“What do you think?” Gojo couldn’t help but sound the smallest bit desperate. This is the most you two have kept up a conversation and he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to talk to you all day, maybe all night, although that was entirely too much to ask for. It's not like he ever asked for anything for himself before. But he wanted this badly. A normal conversation with someone who seemingly didn’t hold him up on a pedestal.

“I told you already.” You said, reaching for your book. It was like an unspoken end to the conversation. But Gojo didn’t want it to end.

“Please, don’t,” He says suddenly and your hand pauses on the spine of your book. You looked over at him and Gojo knew he wasn’t fast enough to cover the desperation. You swallowed and fixed him with a look.

“I think you’re the strongest sorcerer to ever live.” You spoke as though any louder and someone would overhear you. Your voice soft and eyes piercing into his. His heart stuttered at your words. To know you did think of him. He glanced at your lips as they parted to speak another sentence. “But that’s all you think you are. Just the strongest weapon. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” You say and Gojo can’t help but stare, can’t help but know he never tricked you, not one bit.

“That’s… dark.” He tried to laugh, and tried to lighten the mood. You gave him a smile, one that stuttered his heart.

“Sure is.” You affirmed. Your hand let go of your book as you reached in your cooler and grabbed two drinks out, offering him one. Slowly he took it. “Or maybe I’m wrong.” You say before taking a sip. “Maybe it’s not that deep.” Gojo takes a sip of his own drink and stays silent. Unsure of whether to bear his heart to you or keep quiet. The strongest would keep quiet. He’d bottle things up, after all being strong means you can take care of yourself. But Gojo found himself wanting to spill his darkest secrets to you. The cunning sorcerer that calls him out. The one he can’t look away from.

“Maybe.” He says finally and the moment is over. He feels hollow. Especially with the way you glance at him, as though somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t more to him but a smiling face and quick witted words. The age old question came back to him.

Are you strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you are the strongest?

Was strength a part of his identity or was his entire being centered on strength? He certainly didn’t want it to be everything he was but that’s all most people saw when they looked at him. Gojo drank another drink and leaned back on his hands.

“Do you ever think of what you would be if you weren’t a sorcerer?” He asked suddenly. Your eyes cut over to him as you lowered your drink from your lips. It was clear you weren’t expecting that question but at the same time you knew exactly what to say.

“I’m a shit sorcerer.” You said self-deprecatingly. “So I think about it all the time.”

“You’re not so bad.” He says as you turn to look at him. There was a hint of a smirk on your lips.

“Liar.” You admonished jokingly, barely shaking your head. “I know my flaws.”

“What flaws?”

“Alright, sweet talker.”You laughed and Gojo could swear he saw a hint of red on your cheeks. You shook your head as though to keep yourself from laughing more. So this is what it was like? This is who Takuma got to sit and joke around with all day long? Gojo felt sickly jealous when that thought crossed his mind. That he’d wasted all this time trying to flirt with you when he could’ve just talked to you. Sure he still wanted more than what you’d probably give him but this slightest bit of attention could probably keep him afloat for months. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “You know… I haven’t told anyone this but… I’ve been thinking of quitting.” You said. Gojo couldn’t help but react. Quit? Is that something you could just do?

“And do what?”

“My parents own a coffee shop back in America, they wanted me to work there out of high school but… you know this seemed more exciting. Now the prospect of fixing someone's coffee seems more exciting than facing some horrific curses.” You explained as Gojo smiled softly, nodding his head along to your words. He thought about it. Thought about coming into work, you waved him over as you explained some gossip about the other workers. Him tying your apron on and kissing your cheek, you ruffling his hair and smiling up at him. Fixing coffee for a living. Would he be the greatest at that? “I think…” you started, snapping him out of his reverie. “I think I might do that.” Gojo’s brows shot up.

“Hmm?”

“Fix coffee. I was good at it in high school. And… I miss my family. I’ve lived too far for too long.” You said, a dreamy far off look in your eyes. Gojo can’t help but feel sort of lost. You leaving was something he never expected. People didn’t leave the Jujutsu world unless it was in a body bag. Gojo didn’t know there was another way.

“You’ve never told anybody else this?” Gojo asks as you look over at him, the ghost of a sweet smile on your lips.

“You’re… easier to talk to than I thought.” You said and Gojo raised his brows.

“What do you mean?” He asks softly.

“I just mean… easier to talk to than before. Before when you’d flirt with me incessantly.” You joke as Gojo reddens. He thought you hadn’t even noticed his attempts but not only did you notice but you avidly avoided him. Gojo bites hit to, cheeks blushing in embarrassment at this revelation.

“I’m… sorry.” He bleated, shaking his head. You laughed, biting your lip.

“I didn’t necessarily say I didn’t enjoy... some of it.” You said and when Gojo looked over at you, eyes hopeful Takuma called out across the lawn. You looked at the other man as he pointed to his watch and waved you over to hurry. “Oh shit. Sorry, Satoru. Gotta get going.” You said jumping up. Gojo followed, helping you gather your stuff up. When he handed you the blanket your hand brushed against his sending chills across his body. You gave him a kind smile and waved as you went to meet with Takuma. Gojo stared for a moment before his feet moved on their own.

“Wait… Y/n,” he called out as you slowed, turning. “If you leave… to go home. I’d like to visit… sometime.” He stumbled through his words, you made him feel like a teenager again. You gave him a look, an amused look, eyes lighting up.

“Anytime, I’ll fix you my favorite.” You said and then you turned and met with Takuma.

Gojo thought about that day all week long. Your voice swimming through his mind. How pretty you looked when he made you laugh. He didn’t flirt, or crack jokes the entire time. He just talked to you. And you seemed to like that. You seemed to like the real him. Not the him he plays up for everyone else. He thought himself into a hole so he got out of bed and winded his way through the hallways towards the lounge, a nice cup of hot tea might help him settle down. When he pushed the door open there you were. Sat at a table, sipping from one of Nanami’s cups. Gojo couldn’t help but show surprise on his face at seeing you up this late. You looked up and when your eyes met Gojo’s words died on his lips.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked as Gojo cleared his throat, nodding his head. “Me neither.” You remarked with a gentle shrug of your shoulders. Gojo fixed himself a cup of tea and sat down across from you.

“Why can’t you sleep?” He asked. You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“I got a flight in the morning. I’m sort of— uncomfortable with flying.” You said as Gojo couldn’t help but softly smile at you. It was endearing to him that you’d lose sleep over something like that. You gave him a look and barely smirked, shaking your head.

“Where you headed?” He asks. The smile on your lips slightly falters.

“You didn’t hear?” You ask as Gojo’s brows furrow. He shakes his head. “I did it. Like we talked about a week or so ago. I’m headed home.” You say and Gojo can’t help but let his lips fall open in surprise again. Thinking about it was one thing but doing it so soon had his stomach in knots. You stared at him, drinking in his minuscule reactions. “Today was my last day.” You added as though that would soothe the pain in his chest. He couldn’t look up any longer so he let his eyes fall on his steaming cup of tea.

“Oh.” Was all he said. Anything more would’ve been too revealing.

“I— meant to tell you but… you’re so busy all the time.” You said and Gojo looked up then. You didn’t owe him your apologies.

“It’s fine. You— we talked about it. I just didn’t think you’d want to leave so soon.”

“I’ve been itching to leave for months.” You said with a small turn of your lips. “This job isn’t for the weak and although I’m not entirely terrible I’m not exactly good either.” You laughed. Gojo shook his head, he disagreed with that both times you said it, but he didn’t voice it this time cause it seemed you understood. “It might be childish but I just miss home.” You sigh as Hojo shakes his head immediately.

“It’s not childish.” He says and finally your guys' eyes meet. You’d be gone in the morning for good and Gojo hadn’t so much as gotten to know you passed a few brief talks. He felt slighted. It was his fault of course but he couldn’t help the bitter feeling that left him wanting more.

“I… wish we could’ve talked like this sooner, we could’ve been friends.” You said and it was like the nastiest stake to the heart. He knew you didn’t mean it to hurt him because you didn’t know how he felt and he couldn’t only blame himself for that.

“I do too.” He said softly. You two couldn’t look away from one another. Something dangerous growing, some tension that kept you rooted in this moment. Gojo was the strongest but you never really saw him with anyone. Sure he’d occasionally have drinks with Nanami but for the most part he was alone. It felt stupid to feel anything now, with you leaving in the morning. And unbeknownst to Gojo you had something that formed over the few years you knew him. He intrigued you, he was so strong so sure of himself one moment but there was this look in his eyes. Like a scream for help. He was constantly sent on missions alone, he’d come back battered and bruised and smiling, a smile so fake to you but so real to the others that couldn’t see past it.

You tried once, pathetically, to ask him if he was alright and stupidly gave up when he kept that mask up. You just didn’t want to step over a line and push him further away. But the years you spent here you were unknowingly doing it anyways. Dodging his obvious attempts at flirting because you weren’t sure if they were sincere or not and you couldn’t stand the thought of getting hurt. But here you were, hours away from never seeing this man again. You lied about being afraid of flights, you flew many times. The reason you couldn’t sleep was because of the ‘what if?’. What if you had flirted back years ago? Would you be hurt and jaded towards him? Or wouldn’t you have cracked through something deeper? Would you two be together? Would you be here? Watching him being used by a society that doesn’t care for him or would you steal him away from all this? Take him home and have him fix coffee at your side. Would he be happy or would he be bored? Gojo’s eyes glanced at the clock on the stove.

“It’s getting late. You should try to sleep so you don’t miss your flight.” He said, drinking the last of his tea.

There was some sort of finality to that. You nodded your head, drinking the rest of yours as well. You stood up and walked to the sink, running water and washing your cup. When you turned the water off and dried your hands, Gojo approached. He sat his mug in the sink. He paused for a moment, as if contemplating something then spoke in an almost whisper.

“Fuck it.” Before you could begin to ask he turned, hands sliding over your cheeks and bent to press his lips gently against yours. You froze. The kiss was unexpected and stomach achingly tender. Gojo kissed you as though he loved you. With gentleness and persistence. He stepped closer, your body trapped between his own and the counter.

No, no, no… you thought.

Why kiss me when I’m leaving?

But there wasn’t a bone in you that didn’t want this and the revelation was anything but not obvious. You’d know with startling accuracy that you wanted this to happen. You just wished it would’ve happened sooner. You felt the kiss deepen. Gojo ducking his head ever so closer. One hand trailing down from your face, light fingers dancing down your shoulder, past your arm around your hip, fingers gripping and pulling you flush against him. You made a soft noise, your stomach bottoming out as Gojo’s mouth cracked yours open. His hand slid beneath your butt and with ease he picked you up with that one hand and sat you carefully on the counter. The hand on your cheek slid behind your head so you didn’t bump against the cabinets. You two stay like that for a while, feeling out the boundaries that were breaking by the second.

Gojo brushes a lock of hair behind your ear and trails kisses from your lips to your cheek to your jaw and neck. Your head falls back and to the side, your hands softly gripping the front of his shirt, something to keep you the least bit grounded in the moment. You needed to be grounded while Gojo was absolutely drunk on you. He couldn’t believe this was happening, all he knew was that he wouldn’t squander this moment. When you left he wanted you to remember him. You shiver at the sudden more feverish kisses and slide your cold hand beneath his shirt. Gojo doesn’t even jump, he makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

His grip on your hip tightening just slightly before sliding around your back, his warm fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. You arched closer to him as he moved his lips back to yours, you met his lips with the same fevered kisses as him. You gently tugged Gojo’s shirt up and he moved away from your lips temporarily to let you tug his shirt over his head. His body was scared and lean, you traced a few of his scars with a light tip of the finger and when you looked back up at him he was looking at you with a curious expression. You cleared your throat.

“Do you want to do this now? Here?” You asked, gesturing to the dimly lit lounge.

“Do you?” He turned it back on you, his voice wrecked with wanting. You could see the answer clearly in his eyes, he didn’t care where you two were. He’d want you regardless. You thought about it. Was it meaningless to do it here? Would it be better to take him to your room? You were leaving for good in the morning, would it be a mistake to have a one night stand with the strongest? But the wording of one night stand seemed cruel, seemed so unlike what you two were actually doing. It felt deeper. And if it was deeper, were you going home tomorrow with a torn heart? Your hands were still on his stomach, still pressed near a scar. You did want this… but you couldn’t want it. That was the thing all along. Satoru Gojo was going to get himself killed one day. Sure he was the strongest but you could see him wearing down. The scars weren’t healing, he looked tired. Getting involved with him was insuring yourself of a broken heart. You sighed and shook your head.

“We… shouldn’t.” You said and you couldn’t look up at him. You didn’t want to see how he would react. If you did look up at him you’d see just how much two words could break Satoru Gojo. He couldn’t mask it anymore. He wanted so badly to mean more to you. He wanted to be bare in front of you and for you not to flinch away. But you were flinching away and he knew it. It made him sick. Gojo grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on. Your hands fell away from him as you slid off the counter top.

“Can… I ask why?” He said and you knew it wasn’t about sleeping together. It was the deeper sort of question.

“Cause you’d break my heart.” You answered simply. Gojo looks at you. Break your heart? He’d rather die than do that.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice soft, he wasn’t angry, just wanted to understand.

“You’re… Satoru Gojo,” you gestured. “You’re the strongest. The greatest sorcerer. You… don’t make time to be anything but that.” You say, eyes meeting his for the first time since your rejection. And then he understood your meaning.

“What if I did? What if I left it behind?”

“What if?” You asked back. “You’d need something more fulfilling to fill in the gap.” You supplied.

“I found something like that.” He says suddenly.

“Like what?”

“You.” For a moment you two stare at each other.

“I can’t… I don’t want to stay here.”

“I’m not asking you to stay. I— I’m asking you to let me come with you.” Your eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. You were shocked by his words. Spoken with such conviction.

“Satoru…” you said, unable to quite grasp this statement yet.

“I mean it. I… I could go with you. Work beside you… be with you… if you’ll have me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am deadly serious, Y/n. I’m not willing to sit here and pretend like you don’t mean everything to me. You’ve consumed my every waking moment. You’re all I can think about, all I dream about. I— I fear if I stay behind and don’t take this chance… I might as well just end up dead.”

“Oh...” But his confession was breathtaking. Your heart was in your throat, beating and causing words to falter.

“I’ll be your friend if you want. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Just,” he takes a step closer and you have a sick feeling he’s never wanted something for himself as much as he wanted you at this moment. “Take me with you.” Your throat went dry as you gazed up at him. The things you were afraid of, of him choosing to stay, of him fighting alone and fighting to his grave had vanished in an instant with his words. So he was willing to choose between you and sorcery. Not only willing but had made his choice long ago and just now felt confident enough to let you in on it. Not to mention he’d made this decision long before your two’s lips even touched, that was a whole other story to unfold. His feelings for you were much deeper than you previously thought. Those dreams of stealing him away from the people that used him had dropped, real and tangible, in your hands. Your mind swam.

“Don’t… you think you’d get bored?” You asked, but your head tilted and there was the ghost of a smile on your lips. All the tension that had been wrecking Gojo’s body soothed right at that moment. He couldn’t help but smile.

“No. I really don’t think I would.” He answers earnestly. That ghost of a smile turned into a full formed apparition of a smile as you laughed.

“We’ll see about that.” You said and you barely got the words out before he was kissing you again. No warning, all urgency. To feel you again. “Should we go back to my room?” You whispered as the kiss grew slightly more heated.

“Mhm hm.” Gojo hummed, picking you up with ease and tossing you over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise as he walked towards your room.

“You’re an idiot.” You laughed quietly.

“What? You’d think I’d let you walk all the way there?” He asks teasingly as you dissolve into quiet giggles.

“All the way there,” you mocked with a shake of the head. “Like I don’t do it everyday.”

“Not on my watch.” He says, rounding the corner to your room.

“What— what the hell?” You heard Nanami’s voice then and your face went bright red. Gojo didn’t sit you down, just tipped his head to the blond man and kept walking. You on the other hand covered your face and silently cursed Gojo out.

“You have a filthy mouth.” Gojo said as he rounded the final corner, your room steps away.

“Set me down you idiot.” You groaned. And he did but the moment your feet touched the floor his lips were back on yours, pressing you into your closed door. The kiss was needy. He must’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you in the first place. Those first two kisses were something but this one was different. It was like he’d rather kiss you than breathe as you fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

You two tumbled inside, Gojo catching the door in his hand and pushing it shut behind you two as you stumbled towards the bed. Gojo couldn’t go another day without choking out what you meant to him, without showing you. He could feel it in his shoulders when he breathed, feel it in the uncomfortable twist and flip his heart would do around you. Could feel it swirling around in his sleepless nights. He was going to show it to you. Going to convey exactly what he felt.

He pressed his kisses harder, pushed you against the bed. Kissed any surface of your body his lips could find. Savored the noises you made. You spoke muffled against his neck, his name, the sound so sweet and utterly perfect on your lips. He never cared much for his name until he heard you speak it. He exhales sharply, his breath shuddering. He feels your deft fingers slide beneath his shirt again then to the waistband of his pants. You pause and when he speaks a shaky please you slip the pants down past his hips and he kicks the useless thing fully off. He does the same for you and suddenly you both are undressed. Equal, more or less. He kisses you a few more times to hide his nerves and just for a moment lets himself slip into the role of the strongest. He takes the lead, his hands parting your thighs as he trails kisses to your neck. He lines himself up, your hand just barely guiding him, there’s not much thoughts that go into his brain when he enters you. You both make a sound in the dark. Your hands sliding around him to his back, nails digging in there.

“Satoru…” You whimper and he has to will himself not to come right then and there. He goes slow at first, letting you get used to the size. Your bodies are pressed together, he’s practically crushing you beneath him but you wouldn’t have it any other way. One of your hands grabbed his chin, yanking his lips against yours as he picked up his pace. He swallowed your moans and vice versa. He ground his hips against yours, loving the hitch in your breath. He did it again and again until you couldn’t kiss him back anymore and he couldn’t keep his head up, it fell into the crook of your neck as you came together. you both pull back, exhausted and Gojo’s surprised when you start laughing. He stares at you open mouthed, never once after doing something like that with a girl had she started laughing after. “S-sorry,” you giggled, shaking your head. He smiles despite not knowing what you found so amusing. “That was… well I’m sure you know you’re good.” You blushed. “I just— it’s a bit unbelievable.”

“Hmm? What is?” Gojo asks as he pulls the cover up to shield you from the cold of your room.

“I was just… very wrong about you. For a long time. That’s all.” You said as you sat up, grabbing your night clothes and slipping them back on. Gojo does the same and expects that you’ll kick him out to sleep in his own room. “Hey,” you call out, patting the bed next to you. “Stay the night.” You say. You don’t have to tell him twice, he’s already practically back in your bed by the end of your sentence. You pull him close, laying your head against his chest as his arm winds around you. “I’m a clingy sleeper, just so you know.” You say and Gojo lets his eyes fall closed, a content smile on his lips as he kisses the top of your head.

“So am I.” He whispers back to you, slightly turning to pull you closer to him. He feels you hum a laugh. For the first time in years Gojo fell asleep with ease, he didn’t have to be haunted with visions of you because you were real and tangible against him. And he’d never felt more fulfilled, more excited to leave all this bullshit behind and not be the greatest for once.

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