“Don’t get lost,darling. There are many shadows in the dark painfully impatient to devour you.”
not spoiler free ~ mature themes ~ inbox open for thirsts and more ~ side blog
Read rules foremost before proceeding.
RULES • MASTERLIST
Plagiarism is a crime. All works linked in the masterlist belong to @/fatalfairies. Copying and/or translating my work on a platform as your own is strictly prohibited.
the man before you only huffs in annoyance, a pout forming on his glossed lips. you stifle a laugh as he sulks, his fingers working to untie the sad excuse of a bow that held your heel in place.
"let me try again," satoru half pleads from between your legs, "i promise i'll get it right this time."
in truth, you're enjoying the view of your boyfriend kneeling at your feet while he attempts to tie your lace-up heels. your foot is strategically placed between his legs, pretty white-painted toenails on display as he tries and fails to correctly strap up your shoe.
hell, he's kneeling in a tailored suit, and it's messing with your brain.
you're going on a date tonight - it's a fancy restaurant that satoru's been dying to try out. it'd been a pain in the ass to pick out an outfit, not because you lacked clothes, your boyfriend ensured your wardrobe was always filled to the brim with the latest fashion. no, rather, it was because he insisted you wear matching outfits.
his problem, however, was your choice of shoe. your favourite pair of black lace-up heels was your pick for the evening. he'd asked to do them up for you and you thought it was going to be a 30-second thing.
you've now been sitting here for 10 minutes.
"what the fuck is this shit?" he mumbles to himself, irritated. "why is this so complicated??"
another attempt and he's given up, leaning back a fraction to critique his work. horrible, as expected.
you laugh as satoru sighs loudly, leaning his head on the exposed skin of your thigh in exasperation. his white locks tickle your flesh, and you take it upon yourself to rake your manicured nails through his hair, fingertips scratching his undercut affectionately.
you think he's adorable like this - absolute putty in your hands. he nuzzles into your skin, leaving soft kisses on the plush of your thigh as you dutifully work your fingers over his scalp.
"how about i do one, and you can watch and do the other?" you suggest.
he perks up quickly, icy blue irises sparkling. he nods, a beaming smile settling on his lips. he shifts his weight and leans back to give you space.
"so, you take these, 'round the back, and twist, then under and wrap around the ankle, twist one more time, and - boom!" you finish tying the bow on the back of your calf and smile.
satoru's eyebrow raises immediately, an expression half of disgust and half of confusion finding its place on his features. he squints at you, "you expect me to do that?"
"precisely," you respond with a smug grin.
there's a subtle challenge in your answer, and satoru drinks it like water. a challenge? he'll do it, easy. he switches your feet, sticking his tongue out as he focuses on his task.
you're watching him, amused by the way his brows furrow in concentration as he repeats the steps. around, the straps are crossed around your foot. twist, the straps are twisted. under, the straps are hooked beneath the heel. wrap, the straps are crossed and taken around your leg. twist.
he's done it. a fast learner, indeed.
you can't help the way your lips curve into a smile, applauding his efforts. his crystalline eyes are on you again - how could they not be? you're nothing short of gorgeous in that dress - pleading for some kind of praise.
"thanks, babe." you say, bending to place a kiss on his collarbone.
(he hopes to god there's a lipstick stain there so he can show everyone in that restaurant who he belongs to.)
satoru, being the most amazing boyfriend out there, helps you get on your feet, hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you from your apartment to his car.
"you look stunning tonight, love." he says while grinning like a lovestruck fool as you slip into the passenger seat.
"i know," you answer, shooting him a smile that gets him weak in the knees, "you picked the dress, after all."
despite being the strongest, he still runs to your arms, wailing, when suguru literally slaps some sense into him. even owning inhumanly powerful abilities, he gets sad whenever he watches a sappy romcom, thinking that the couple is just like you two. satoru has the world’s fate in his palms; nevertheless, he enjoys talking about how he hopes to someday live in a nice house with you, away from any curses and sorcery.
he wants everyone to see him as the mighty, super duper cool gojo satoru, except you. he likes being just your satoru, your angel, pretty boy, and whatever dumb nicknames you come up with.
gojo doesn’t mind it when shoko removes her cigarette from her lips just to tease him for being too clingy with you. nah, he’s way past that — too busy cuddling you and focusing on the selfies you took on your new cellphone (it even had a 26-lettered keyboard!).
the snow-haired teen feels comforted as you treat him as just a guy, the playful fame he wants turning into old hags wanting to abuse his abilities as a sorcerer. he doesn’t even know what the hell is inside of him to make him so different from everyone, why are they pestering?
the only thing he’s sure of is how much he loves you, suguru and shoko. his underclassmen are pretty cute too… great pranking targets. knowing that is enough for satoru, and at the end of the day, it’s nice being just your silly boy.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄. that’s one thing you’ve long noticed about the man.
he makes efforts to spend quality, fun time with his students—and, more often than not, they decline. yuuji sometimes tags along. not as much as he should.
the strongest then just shrugs his shoulders, beams, and says, “okay!” before heading off on his own.
behind that bright smile is a lonely man.
so you make the effort to go along with him, even if you have to give up classes you teach in order to head out for kikufuku with your colleague. you don’t pity him, you just don’t want him to be alone. he deserves a friend. he doesn’t seem to have one.
“thank you for coming with me,” he said one day, after months of your little getaways into town or on brief road trips. just fun moments between friends. you couldn’t see his eyes behind that blindfold. you wondered what emotions were captured within his baby blues. and gojo’s mouth was curled up into a genuinely happy smile. the first you’d ever seen, you realised. “i had fun.”
“so did i.” you looked away to mask your own smile.
“it’s always better with someone to share stuff with.” his head tilted, and he stared up at the clear sky. “haven’t had that in a…long time.”
that saddened you. but you were glad he wasn’t as alone any more, even if it was just with you. even if it was just for a moment.
satoru gojo is impossible. you knew that. you knew what you were getting into when you started dating him, but that didn't make the incessant teasing any easier to bear. from the moment you woke up to his goofy grin and that mischievous glint in his eyes, you braced yourself for the onslaught of jokes and teasing.
"morning, sleepyhead," he'd quip, ruffling your bedhead lovingly. "nice bedhead look you've got going on there."
you'd swat his hand away with a groan, but the sparkle of amusement never left his expression. breakfast was filled with silly puns and good-natured ribbing about your culinary skills — or lack thereof. even a simple task like doing the laundry together would be accompanied by witty one-liners and playful banter.
but even despite your exasperated eye-rolls, you wouldn't have it any other way. his teasing was a love language at its own. with every corny joke and gentle tease, he found new ways to make you laugh until your cheeks hurt from smiling too much — even on your worst days, he could brighten your world with those silly jokes.
My own golden retriever gamer/biker boy who will beg me to let him eat me out while I'm grinding on his lap and leaving hickeys all over his neck when?
boys that eat you out like you're they're last meal,
who know all the places their tongue can reach that'll make you feel the very best.
who hold their hands obediently behind their back, wishing they could touch but wanting to be a good boy-when all they really want to do is pull you further over their face as they lap at your clit.
who whine against you as you tug on their hair, heart eyes still looking up at you, utterly in love.
who can feel themselves getting closer from your pleasured sighs and moans, wishing they could fist their cock for some stimulation but they're good and won't without your permission.
who melt when you look down at them and call them a good boy.
who can probably cum from eating you out alone, from your taste and your sinful mouth, from the way that you look at him, praising him for how good he makes you feel.
who can't get enough, he'd sit between your legs forever despite the ache in his jaw or the pain in his knees, none of that matters with his face buried between your thighs and his tongue deep inside of you and your dark gaze on him.
nanami, armin, gojo, geto, denji, yuuji, bachira, zenitsu, isagi, any of your faves<3
Warnings: MDNI, sub! gojo satoru, dom! reader, smut, age difference(7-years, reader is older), unprotected sex, use of sex toys and blindfold, mentions of humiliation kink, degradation kink, masochism, use of curse words, stalking, yandere themes.
Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist
Part 1
"It's your support that I lack. You can either support me or hand over authority to openly biased men who will side with the most powerful, and we both know where the power lies. Unlike them, I'll at least maintain the much-needed balance between the clans. I already have Gojo boy under control if that's what you're worried about."
Special grade was the pinnacle you could never reach. Not because you were incapable, but because you were a woman. The hollow men who ran this world were insecure. They could never stomach the sight of what they considered inferior on a crown that they created. You knew you could never be crowned, but you could be the institution that decides who sits on it. You could do it. If not for yourself, then for the ones who come after you. And so you did, making Yuki Tsukumo the only woman to become a special grade. She was young, ambitious, and had potential. She deserved it. But a small victory could never satisfy you. You desired to rule.
"You are such a marvel, my dear," Naobito smiled softly, eyeing your cleavage, "you don't have to ask me for my support." He has had his eyes on you for quite some time, but not with the best intentions, he has to admit. He was enticed by your ways. Your ability to get what you want. And although he had tamed sluts all his life, you were the only woman who could tame him with just words.
"I'm glad to know we are on the same page... Naobito-sama." You moved closer to him and whispered, "Now, I can make all of your wishes come true." With that, you took off, knowing well your job here was done, leaving him with hard on.
His only wish was to get a taste of you before he died. "Relieve me." He ordered one of the maids to suck him off, as he imagined your scarlet lips around his cock, teasing and licking him. Oh, you were a vixen, and you had him on his knees.
"Never seen you in this part of town before. What brings you here?" Cocky as always. He sat back with a smirk, like a king, while delusional sheep worshipped the ground he walked on. You neither understood his resolve nor did you have the leisure to question it. If his beliefs could invest in your interests, you'd wholeheartedly ignore their demerits. He was an impressionable young man of tender age. It wouldn't be hard to have him on your side.
"You, Suguru. I'm here for you." You offered him your hand, and like the gentleman he is, he was about to kiss it, but like the tease you are, you pulled away and sat across him.
"Everyone out." You wondered how fulfilling it must be to have so many people at his disposal. Within seconds, you were left alone with him. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He questioned her with a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes.
"I see you've made quite a community for yourself here. Looking at the security and location, money must not be a problem." The hall was huge, well furnished, and air-conditioned. To afford such a place isn't easy unless you're high up in the food chain. And Geto Suguru had multiple base centers for his cult, which meant he had leashes around rich non-sorcerers.
"Wasn't enough to keep you from discovering it. I know you have eyes everywhere, and you'll be breaking many hearts if this gets out. So tell me, what's your real motivation to come here by yourself?"He said this as he shamelessly inspected each detail of your body. The kimono you were wearing accentuated your curves in the most salacious way possible, and Suguru had a hint of your intentions, but he was a man at last. He wouldn't mind being exploited by you. Your presence ignited the spark of a teenage crush he used to have on you. Maybe it was because of Satoru's continuous longing or ranting about you that stopped him from acting on his feelings, or maybe it was because he knew you were unattainable. However, circumstances have changed now. Perhaps he's ready to be devoured.
"Non-sorcerer politics might seem futile, but it holds the key to controlling the worthless masses as well. I want in." Speaking his language was essential to persuading him.
"So what? You need a few of my corrupt monkeys? Okay, I can spare some. What do I get, though?" You saw this coming from a mile away.
"Whatever you want. Confidential info? Forbidden spells? Clan secrets? Satoru's schedule? I can give you whatever you may want in order to establish the world you dream of."
"I want you by my side." He answered instantly.
You chuckled at his reply. It was funny how men were; they yearned power, yet they craved a woman's body to experience it. Such two-faced creatures, loyal to nothing but their ambitions. Geto Suguru was a broken man with a fucked-up state of mind. It was obvious that he didn't require much of your help to make his dreams a reality. He needed you to keep his sanity. It is always the strongest men who enjoy letting loose, being humiliated, and being degraded in order to feel something, anything, to fill the void that comes with a purpose. Even after being better than most men, Geto Suguru failed to be immune to this.
"I'll always be by your side." You said standing up. His pupils were blown apart as he observed your form moving towards him. Bending down, you pulled him by his hair and pecked him on the lips. "It will be an honor to aid your cause."
Stealing your panties, he felt like a pervy teen who would jizz at every single one of your actions. He couldn't believe that he had become one of the creeps he used to look down upon. Gojo never knew that he had it in him to be so pathetic. You brought out the worst in him. He would keep tabs on your movements, whatever you do throughout your day, whoever you meet, whoever dares to look your way or come in close proximity to you, their address, their jobs, their families, their sudden disappearance after their meetings with you—he would take care of it all. He's not stalking now, is he? He's doing it for your protection. There's no harm in that. He takes pleasure in it anyway.
Once in a while, however, there would be instances when you would go missing for several hours without a trace. These very occurrences drove him insane. Overthinking about every possible thing you could be doing with someone infuriated him. And to say that he was insecure when it came to you wouldn't be far from the truth. He had fucked a fair share of girls, inflicting the force of his bruised ego on them. They enjoyed it and begged for more, but you never did. Being the epitome of Jujutsu sorcery, he had everything. great power and an even greater amount of money. Whatever was his was automatically yours too. However, it was never enough for you. Times like this, though, when he would be powerless in front of you, were his favorites.
With his eyes blindfolded, hands cuffed to the bed, and a cockring around the base of the cock, you teased his nipples, planting kisses on his chest and soft pecks that lightly jabbed his warm flesh. His breathing was shaky, his lips were quivering, and his cock was painfully hard, throbbing and pulsating with need. Your tickling kisses sent warm tingles down his spine, making him moan loudly. Satoru was intoxicated with the way you made him feel. The way you smelled, the way your sultry eyes looked through him, and the way you knew the power you held over him. Oh, he was down bad for you.
"You're such a bad boy, Satoru. Stealing my panties, even the used ones. Such a filthy pervert." Pressing your breasts into his bare chest, you slowly dragged your hands down, closer to his cock. Stroking his length leisurely to prolong the torment. The wet swishing sound of your hand pumping his cock filled the room.
"Did you enjoy getting off of them, Satoru?"
"Y-yesh."
"Was it as good as the real thing?" You asked, increasing the vibration level.
"Ah-oh...Ooh f-fuck...um"
"I asked you a question, Satoru. Was it as good as the real thing?" His cock was twitching. His raging member looked painful even to you. You were waiting for him to cave in to your teasing touches. He looked so beautiful that you couldn't help but bite your lips.
"Na-no...it...it is nothing c-compared to you."
You peppered soft kisses along his jaw, your breath fanning over his reddened ears all the while pumping his length ferociously. The white tuft of hair at his base contrasted with the angry red tip of his cock, decorated with a splotch of precum. You were so horny right now that you stopped your hand midway and sunk down his dick instantly. A loud whimper fell past his lips when he felt your warm walls surrounding him.
"Ohmy- god hah- don't stop-please."
Your pussy was clinging to his fat shaft so tightly that you almost felt guilty for enjoying this. This was exactly what all men equated you to. A whore, a slut, someone only good to be a cum dump. You knew you couldn't let those men get to you, yet sometimes that taunting voice in the back of your head would take over and make you feel so small, just like it took over right now.
You heard a clanking sound, and in the very next moment, Satoru suddenly pulled you into a kiss, making you forget about all the hatred. He took off his blindfold, which was wet from all the tears falling down his cheek. His red bruised hands from the now broken handcuffs slipped to your hips, helping him snap his hips against yours. Lewd moans escaped your mouth at the sudden pleasure, the sound spurring him on more to thrust violently into you. Your body jolted with pleasure, fogging your senses as Satoru marveled at your taste, sucking marks on your neck.
But you didn't like to be dominated, so you increased the vibration level to the highest setting, causing a string of grunts to leave Satoru's lips. You squeezed around him, ready to milk his cock dry, as your thighs trembled at the rapid pace he maintained. Groans of your name and squelching sounds fill the room. You both came together as Satoru hugged you. Your pussy oozing and dribbling with his cum.
"Aah-fuck...lemme take this off." Satoru said, referring to the cockring.
"Who said it's over? We have just started, my naughty boy."
Maybe you'll be what they thought of you. Just this once.
~Imagine him crying from how good it feels, when he normally always brags about how good he is~
Dom!reader x sub!gojo - Reader is AFAB
Warning: mommy kink (only a tiny bit), the reader is getting penetrated, dacryphilia (like always)
The white haired boy was as prideful as ever, bragging to everyone about your relationship. You two have been dating for a while now, and whenever you two would go out to hang out with friends, he’d tell everyone how good he is bed. It wasn’t a lie, he was a really good boy behind closed doors, but he liked to exaggerate sometimes. This led to your current situation.
Once again satoru couldn’t keep his pretty little mouth sealed and talked about some personal stuff. There was something different this time, because he talked about how he’s the one ‘in charge’ in the relationship. Now he really shot himself in the leg with that one. The boy just continued letting his foul mouth run loose while you glared at him furiously. Instead of correcting him right now, no, you were going to punish him once you get home.
“Ah..aAhh…mhm, ngh.” Gojo covered his mouth with the palm of his hand, trying to muffle his noises. Shit, why was he the one getting this nervous? He was half inside you, but already whining about how good you felt, how warm and soft. The why your insides squeezed him made him feel dizzy, face flushing red in an instant. You on the other hand was laying down on the bed, mocking him with your suggestive eyes. This was a little bet you two made. Since he was so proud of his skills, you were going to let him have a go.
“I-I can do this, you just…uhm, lay-lay back and watch.” Your handsome but troublesome partner said, desperately trying to keep his pride. He slowly bottomed out inside you, when he finally did, he had to fight with himself to not cum on the spot. Hands on either side of your body, gripping the sheets tightly, so much that his knuckles turned white. Neither him or you have been moving, yet he was so awfully close. This was too embarrassing, especially because you weren't affected at all. While he was sweating buckets and trying to hold back his voice, you were smirking at him with a sarcastic gaze. Your expression told him that you were having fun, entertained by his adorable antics.
Why did you have to humiliate him like this? Couldn’t you let him keep a little pride, by telling him you were feeling good too? A shiver ran down his spine, his heart was pounding and he couldn’t take it anymore. Suddenly the male pressed his face into your chest, arms wrapped around you in a suffocating grasp. His whines were muffled by your body, then he glanced up at you with a pleading look in his eyes.
“Oh? Satoru, does it feel that good?” He didn't respond, he couldn’t, instead he sobbed and whined. Some tears dropped onto your chest. “Fe-feels too go-good…uh-ugh..” “is that so, how cute, but that is no reason to cry now.” You whispered softly while stroking his fluffy locks, he just pressed himself even closer to you, holding you close to him. Was this his way to hide the embarrassment?
“Didn’t you say you were going to make me feel good? With your seductive techniques?” You teased him, repeating the words he exchanged with his friends. “S-stop..please..” woa wait a second, you weren’t expecting him to beg now. How amazing, and how obedient he suddenly is. Then you said, “you better learn your lesson, love, next time I won’t be so nice.” Before he knew it, you changed the position and were now on top of him. “What do you say, satoru?” “Thank you…ah, hngh- mommy.” “Good boy.”
Warnings: deaths, NSFW (Sub Gojo, dom reader, tied to a chair, begging, creampie, tied cock, oversensitive)
Summary: All your fiancés died because you didn't want them as husband. You didn't want that much. After your father died, you were forced into marriage. At your wedding, your hands were handcuffed. You wanted to kill your husband - Gojo Satoru. But you couldn't do it, he's not dying. He let you try it. He's not the same as the others... You don't want to kill him...
"(y/n), you can't keep killing your husbands…"
You looked at your father as you looked at the silver bracelet you got from your prospective husband.
"He was not my husband. And I didn't kill him." You said calmly, watching the white diamonds on the silver.
"Zenin is not someone to play with. Honey, understand that you must have a husband." He said as he sat in his chair across the table in front of you.
"How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it? He killed himself…" you snapped as you threw the expensive jewelry on the table.
Your father was a little afraid of you. And you were perfectly aware of it.
He didn't have much time left in this world, so he tried to leave his kingdom in good hands. Of course he trusted you.
You were relentless. You were so smart. However, you had no mercy even for the smallest thieves.
The good citizens of your kingdom lived peacefully, avoiding poverty.
You didn't want them to want you dead.
You punished all criminals.
Execution, imprisonment, or simply confiscation of property. Or sometimes irreversible disability.
That's what your father used to do.
Thieves had their hands cut off so that they could no longer steal.
Prison escapees or those who were fleeing from justice had their legs cut off.
Adulterers were castrated.
You didn't mind. You gave orders to your hired people and they did it.
You didn't mind seeing death.
Not after you saw your future husband, the son of a scholar who was believed to be a sorcerer, kill your friend who has served you since you were little.
As you entered his chamber, you saw a passage to another room below. And when you went in there, you saw Kenjaku cutting the top of the skull off from the rest, and he started looking for something in your friend's brain.
Were you ever going to marry a murderer like him?
You've seen your father convict someone many times.
Your mother accidentally killed your little brother. However, you know what the truth was. She just miscarried. Your father decided that she didn't want to give him any more children, and that she defied him. She was his wife from an arranged marriage.
He had her killed as punishment.
You loved your mother more than your father.
And you were afraid you'd die like her because something your father didn't like.
You tried to obey everything he told you to do. You were the perfect princess. That's why you were supposed to be the future queen.
But you wanted your Father not to have the power over you that he has now.
This is why…
That's why you did everything to be cruel.
You had no mercy for anyone who was like him.
Until it finally became your nature.
You weren't nice. But you tried to be good to your subjects.
In other realms they thought of you as a monster. Even if you weren't that cruel.
You were like that to people you didn't like.
You didn't like your husband candidates, so you did everything you could to annul your wedding.
They were either dying or trying to get rid of you.
Kenjaku died because when you were teenagers he started saying something to you that scared you.
He was a little older than you, and he said he'd like to create the perfect baby with you to help him carry out his plan.
You never wanted to marry him.
He died because he fell under the table and the heaviest knife he ever used to split skulls fell on his forehead.
It was as if you murdered him.
Soon after, your second husband appeared…
Naoya Zenin who died during a fight you practically arranged.
Let's just say, a lot of people didn't like him, so finding a candidate wasn't difficult.
But you still had clean hands.
Your third candidate for a husband is a man almost twice your age who has a teenage son.
Well, your Father seeks power and wealth.
He has almost only power.
This man killed the previous ruler and seized the throne.
Fushiguro Toji ruled over a large army. But he wasn't that rich.
You hated him for being such a terrible womanizer. He had a son, two wives if not more.
You were supposed to be his next wife. Even at a meeting with him, there was a woman next to him!
A direct guy who was too brave.
You want someone direct, but not someone like him who shows he can have anyone and does it right away.
As soon as he started approaching you like it wasn't the first time you'd met, you wanted to do something to him.
You did not want to deprive the child of his father, but you even learned that his son does not live in his kingdom!
When he was too insistent, two months ago you gave him a wound running through his mouth. And now there was a scar in that place.
And it's not like he gave up.
You still had to be his wife…
And he was killed fighting a prince of another kingdom.
You were on your way home at the time. Fight and death have passed you by.
You brazenly led Toji out of the house so he couldn't hide. Even though he was strong, there was no way he could win with that power.
Or so you thought.
And you weren't wrong. You received news some time later that your fiancé, Fushiguro Toji, was killed during the fight between his kingdom and the kingdom ruled by Prince Gojo.
Gojo…
Did you know that name…
Didn't this happen to be on your father's lists once?
Soon after, the same man became a king instead of a prince.
His image was in your father's eyes because he didn't want to get in trouble with the strongest kingdom.
He was a good king. Smiling and cheerful. But also deadly.
You weren't that selfish, but without your father, you would have ruled better.
Could there have been no deaths?
Be that as it may, you are involved in all of them.
Your father's chief servants wanted to drag you by force to the next husband candidate, but they mysteriously disappeared.
And only you knew what happened to them.
You knocked them unconscious with an efficient blow to the head with a rock, and left them in the woods. Where it was most dangerous.
And they never came back.
You have blood on your hands.
Your father thinks you'll be the evil queen.
But you don't want to rule by fear.
You hated being ordered around.
Because you wanted to choose your own path.
You have often thought about killing your father.
To dispel his fear of you.
He was the most feared of all these people.
You planned his death.
You didn't want to get married. Not for someone he chose for you!
You were forcibly dragged to the next candidate by the guards.
Ryomen Sukuna… King - monster. Self-proclaimed king of "curses", because when he cursed a people, they died at his hands.
A man who rules over people with fear…
Was this thing supposed to be just for you?
One thing was for sure, you didn't want to be his wife.
A man who drinks blood mixed with wine because he likes it?
No thanks.
But you agreed to your father's game.
You could have shown him that you wouldn't be as nice as you've always been.
You'll be soulless.
You can kill a monster like him.
Someone who with his bare hands, for fun, rips off women their children, babies, and rips off their heads?
Sick bastard…
Even you winced at the sight.
You could have been a mother once.
But there's no way you're having a baby with that thing…
Out of the candidates you had, Kenjaku would be the quickest to pick… He at least tried to be nice somehow…
But it wasn't ideal anyway…
You could kill as you wanted.
You can even be the evil queen. But you won't be blind to what's going on around you.
You were supposed to stay with Sukuna for a month and then get married…
You were always on guard.
You were like a pet to him.
And when he saw you stabbed one of his servants when they were about to put a collar on you like a dog, he smiled instead of being angry.
"You should get used to it sometime. I have so many. So go ahead and have fun." He said and waved his hand. "My woman has to get used to what she will see in wars and everywhere."
You wanted to go up to him and slit his throat.
You were like a puppy to him.
For him to stroke. You were supposed to be just like them to others.
You don't want innocent people to think you're such a monster.
You've killed some people, but never someone who didn't do anything to you.
You spent a lot of your days throwing knives at the wall. You've learned to always hit with the tip.
When you were told to prepare meals for your "husband" (even if he wasn't that and never would have been…), you put old blood of sick animals into his "wine".
Hoping that pig would eventually die.
You threw a knife at him once, and he pulled it out and threw it at you like it was a ball.
You're okay, but you've had enough.
You won't be with a sick bastard like him!
People will hate you when you become his wife against your will.
He had many enemies.
And you were one of them.
You were angry enough to play with him now.
Pretending to seduce him, you locked him in your bedroom.
A fool sees no trick.
Or is he just a sadist who loves to splash in blood?
You don't like it.
But since you have no choice, you will murder anyone who orders you to do anything.
You will kill every candidate for your husband until the choice is finally over.
You will be king on your own.
Even if your past was covered in blood.
You killed your penultimate candidate in bed.
You never wanted him to touch you.
That's why before he thought you two could have sex, you stabbed him in the throat.
To wait for his red eyes to close.
To his subjects, you came out of there a hero who made their lives easier.
No more monthly human sacrifices.
There will be no annual virgin sacrifice.
Nothing will threaten them anymore.
The bloody city has been abandoned. And people came to your kingdom.
More people meant more money for your father. More workers.
However, when you told him that you were the cause of your fiancé's death, he froze.
You showed him your dress which was bright with huge blood stains.
Blood that belongs to the king - Ryomen Sukuna's.
You never regretted killing someone who was mean.
His people were terrified, but they regarded you as their savior.
You gave them freedom.
you helped them.
But your father didn't like it.
No wonder one time, during your frequent look at what you managed to do as a princess, you were pushed off the balcony by your father.
As someone who cannot rule without killing.
Your reflexes were quick.
You instinctively grabbed whatever you could.
At the bottom of the square stood people who watched what was happening there with screams.
The guards started running up the stairs nearby to help you.
You grabbed your father's collar making him lose his balance.
As you grabbed the balcony wall, you pulled him forward.
And you saw your Father slowly approaching down the square. Until he finally fell.
A pool of blood you've seen more than once.
Were you a regicide?
No…
Rather, it was your Father who tried to kill you.
Your closest servant and friend - Utahime, helped you return to safe land with fear.
The guards dragged your body up as fast as they could, then took you to the medic.
You were not found guilty of killing the king.
Because he wanted to kill you.
And the people, when asked if they wished to convict you, refused.
You were the evil queen.
But you weren't the one for them…
You were the new queen.
However, according to your father's death decree, you must have a husband to rule.
Old boor…
He did it specifically for you to have a problem…
You received your father's letters with someone from the Gojo kingdom…
Even their letters were rich…
What if you get married and then become a widow?
You don't want someone to rule over you…
You want to live the way you want, and provide what is good to everyone who believes in you.
You don't want to marry someone like he probably is…
But you have no choice…
You will become his wife, and you will kill him.
Or maybe you'll at least have a baby so you won't be lonely…
So that no one will accuse you of not having a descendant and successor…
You haven't met your future husband.
The advisers and nobles who were your father's faithful servants prepared you for the wedding.
Your dress was beautiful, as befits a royal wedding.
Your only wish was that it be fast.
They all knew that you killed the kings of other kingdoms.
You didn't look at the face of the tall man who was standing in front of you as the ceremony began.
Your hands were handcuffed in front of your body with white gold handcuffs. They didn't look bad and they also held you back.
You've been searched first.
It was hard for you to take your marriage vows with your hands cuffed.
But your prayers for a quick end have been heard by the gods.
Now just a kiss and it'll be over…
The fabric on your face was pulled back, and you looked up a little higher, still not meeting your now husband.
Now just a sealing kiss.
Feel the disgusting lips of someone you don't even want to know…
You stared at one point, over his shoulder as his finger lifted your chin slightly higher as he bent down lower.
He was really tall.
Your lips were slightly parted, and shiny under the influence of natural, glossy lipstick.
"I know you don't want this…"
You heard him say softly.
You widened your eyes and he placed his lips barely on the corner of yours.
Did he just…
Didn't he just make you do something?
Your kingdoms are now connected.
You have become queen and your husband is Gojo Satoru…
You should be happy like the people.
People were happy when they heard the news that your kingdom will be merged with Gojo's kingdom.
It is said that justice, security and prosperity reign at a very high level in that kingdom.
All thanks to the new king. "Son of the Gods".
According to the priests, he was a prophecy of greatness. And eyes like blue crystals, created by miracles in distant lands, showed wealth.
Apparently, no one was disappointed, because all this happened.
They were more powerful than your kingdom. So much…
Much richer.
Even though your country was also prosperous. There were no neighborhoods where people died every day.
But it was even better there.
You used to live in the capital.
The capital was a royal city in the territory of his kingdom.
His close friends will take care of the new lands because he doesn't have much time to go there.
While your people were delighted, the people of his country were not.
How does a wonder child, a wonder king marry an evil Queen?
A queen who killed the kings of other countries who were her betrothed…
You were their queen now.
You want to fulfill your plan.
You will kill him.
But…
"You want to kill me, don't you?" he asked as he lay on his stomach on your bed, lazily eating some dessert.
Your hands trembled.
He knew you could kill him anytime.
However, he didn't seem to care at all…
How?
"Go ahead. You can try. However, I have promised some people that I will not die so soon." He said calmly.
Is he serious?
You can't listen to him!
You must do it!
You will not listen to someone who will probably hurt you!
Suddenly he looked at you from behind his black glasses.
"Let's play your game. Try to kill me. I will not attack you. You attack me and I won't do anything about it. When you kill me, you win."
"Are you serious-"
He interrupted you.
"I'm serious. I want to prove something to someone. What my wife is like."
Before you could somehow embarrass yourself by his words, you decided to give him back.
It sounded weird when he referred to you as "wife".
He was handsome.
And you even liked him.
But…
But you don't want him to hurt you.
You are the Evil Queen. And everyone hates you…
He also…
He can't prove otherwise.
He married you because he had to.
You were the cruelest queen ever.
And you couldn't change it…
you were like that.
What was he trying to prove?
You walked over to him and smiled slightly.
"It's a shame a man with eyes like that has to cover them with those stupid glasses." You chuckled softly.
"I'll take that as a compliment." He said with a smile.
You sat next to him.
You've been married for a month…
He looked at you scanningly.
You had no desire to kill.
You placed your hand on his back, then ran your finger over his palpable muscles under his white shirt.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"I spend time with my husband…?" You asked, wanting to ignore it.
"It's weird… You want to seduce me?" He smiled at you.
"Do you want it?" You gave him a mischievous smile.
"If I remember correctly what I heard, you killed Sukuna during sex. What if it happens to me?? This is not a clean game. That's not how I agreed. Only traps and fair attack." He turned to you, laying on his back.
"That's not true… I killed him before he could touch me."
"I thought evil queens used someone before they killed them. So maybe you're not the Evil Queen?"
"Shut up." You muttered, sitting on his stomach. "Just fair game. I don't have any weapons on me…"
"That's good. Because I'd love to be closer to my wife as long as I'm alive."
You leaned in to kiss him.
And for the first time you felt that his lips were soft. Not horrible and disgusting.
You didn't know what to do anymore.
Kill him?
Live with him?
You didn't want a husband. But the longer you're with him, the more you think you're okay with him.
He treats you so well…
He took your people and you too. The killer. Evil Queen…
And now he's telling you that you can try to kill him?
What's wrong with him?
For some moments you didn't want to kill him.
But you decided you'd do it before you changed your mind.
In order not to be hurt by him…
Was your relationship just sex?
You noticed that despite being so powerful, he could be a good boy and let you take control.
But never mind the sex…
You've already tried to kill him twice.
You gave him two poisonous plant decoctions to drink.
For the first time, it turned out that he does not drink wine.
The second time he sniffed his juice, and smelled it…
He just smiled at you and spilled it on the floor saying, "Failed try."
You were even able to pour something in his bath which, when poured over an object, burned the surface.
You're not sure what it is, but you hoped you wouldn't see him die.
The longer you're with him, the more you feel sorry for him…
When he dies, then you can cry.
The more you stick to it…
He got into another tub then…
And he directly told you later that he smelled sulfur in the bathhouse when he went in there.
Sulfuric acid in the water… Would that have any effect on him at all?
It failed with the poison, trying to kill him in the water.
The next time you tried to drown him when you offered to wash his back.
He knew something would happen.
You tried to push his head under the water, but you failed. You didn't even move it.
He just laughed.
Is this man really not afraid of death?
After all, you are the Evil Queen!
You really didn't want to see him die…
Did you notice that…
You don't want him to die in front of your eyes. Because you will feel sorry for him…
You tied the ax to the rope you had attached to the door.
The ax was heavy, but you managed to make the trap work.
When he opens the door, the ax will fall on him.
He entered the room, and then heavy weapons began to fly at him on a rope.
He jumped up, grabbing onto the rope, then landed on the metal embedded in the wall.
"Nice move, baby." He laughed.
"What the fuck…?!" his friend shouted.
"It's just our little game. Mine with my wife!"
Have you had enough of this…
You tried to push him down the stairs, but it came out like you were hugging him…
You're running out of ideas…
You felt worse and worse trying to kill him…
He kept smiling at you and letting you do it.
You have not been convicted of trying to kill the king not once…
There were no consequences for you.
You were lying in bed under the covers when he entered the room with a smile.
"Are you okay? You didn't leave today." He said as he closed the door.
You threw a knife at him.
He only tilted his head slightly as the knife pierced the door next to his head.
The incredible reflexes he had amazed you.
But he wasn't afraid of death at all…
"Leave me… Or else… What do you want, Satoru?" You asked turning away from him.
You felt worse and worse at the thought of killing him.
Was he the same as those?
He cared for you after all…
Is it worth killing him?
That's why you were in bed, sad.
"You know… I thought about our bath last night, and I got a little horny…" he murmured.
You looked at the bulge in his pants.
Admittedly, you've thought about it too, and you're sure you can take that big cock right away. After all, you must have gotten a little wet…
You pulled back the covers to signal him.
He walked over quickly, already pulling the length out of his pants.
You pulled up your nightgown and took off your panties, quickly wrapping your legs around his hips and letting him slide right into you.
You've had enough of this… You've failed…
The longer you look at that smile, your heart tells you that you love that look on his face…
Have you had enough of this…
The last time you try…
You will have blood on your hands…
His blood…
When he came into your bedroom in the evening, you kicked him in the back of his knees, causing him to lose his balance.
He knelt on the floor and looked at you.
Little tears flowed from your eyes.
You were supposed to kill those who hurt you…
And he…
And he never hurt you once…
But you'll kill him anyway…
And you'll probably regret it for the rest of your life.
You expected him to be furious.
But he looked at you with the same eyes as always.
And he smiled very slightly.
You held the knife tighter in your hand.
You were shaking a bit.
You've killed so many times.
He can't be your weakness…
He was supposed to be just like everyone else…
He was supposed to do what you don't want!
…But he didn't…
You walked over to him and tapped his shoulder with your foot.
He fell to the floor, lying on his back.
But he didn't even protest.
You put your foot on his chest and then sat on top of him, pointing the blade of the knife at his throat.
You breathed for the tears to disappear.
But looking at that scene below you, you couldn't stop crying.
The last light of the sun was reflecting off the knife today. It lightly illuminated the room.
You saw his gentle eyes and kind smile.
He didn't even move. Even if he could break free now and throw you off him, call the guards to take you to the dungeon.
But he doesn't…
"Why do you always have to smile like an idiot?!" you shouted. "Do you really want to die?!"
"You're beautiful even now." He said.
"Shut up! Why?!"
"From the beginning, I wanted to prove to you that you are not a cruel person. You don't want to get hurt. I wanted to show you that you can get love too."
You shivered as your heart pounded.
But with tears you brought the knife closer to his throat.
"Shut up! For everyone I'm just a queen that kills! I-"
"You're not an evil queen. You're the perfect queen who wants to take care of those she cares about. I know you may think differently of me than I do. If you think I'm like them, kill me. But I never meant to hurt you. What you do depends on you. I will accept what you give me. That's what you do out of love, right?"
"Y-You–!"
Your hands were shaking.
He still didn't move. He wasn't nervous at all.
"You won our game. Now I won't run away. I can't avoid it. I give you my life. I give it to my wife. Who is not an evil queen."
You squeezed your eyes shut.
Just one hand movement, and it's done.
You moved the blade.
You threw the knife on the floor, jumping off it.
You were kneeling on the floor, covering your face with your hands.
Two meters from him.
You can not do it…
You can't…
You felt something on your shoulder.
You looked over there.
"It's okay… Don't cry…" he said calmly and wrapped his arms around you very gently as he knelt behind you.
"I just wanted to kill you… so why are you now–"
"I love you. Isn't that reason enough? You are my wife. I swore allegiance to you. So I wanted to be true to what I said. I wanted to prove something to someone. What my wife is like. I wanted to prove to you that you have a good heart. If it wasn't, I would have been dead six months ago."
You moved.
He thought you would run away from him.
But you turned away, pressing your head against his chest.
He didn't do anything to you…
You couldn't kill him…
Because he was one of the few people who treated you differently.
Better.
Your husband was a good king…
You were supposed to be the evil queen…
You are not.
To him, you are the most wonderful woman.
He may have been against being with you at first, but he saw you walking around in dark dresses, making no secret of the fact that you were the cause of the deaths of so many important people.
You were nice. You cared about people.
And you didn't care what a cruel, bloody portrait you had in people's eyes.
Those who have listened to you believe that you are a good queen.
Those who don't know you think you're just a heartless murderer who out of selfishness and greed craves power.
However, you did not kill their wonderful king, who is not much different from this portrait.
His smile is on his face, but he has even more terrible scenes than you had.
Killing, torturing. Leaving to fate. Psychological and physical torture.
Cruel deaths.
He, the good king, hid this side from people.
But everyone knew the power in his hands.
You didn't hide the truth about yourself.
And the world shows you that sometimes a sweet lie is better than a bitter truth.
But what was supposed to connect you was never going to lie anymore.
It will be the sweet truth.
He promised you that people would recognize you.
And despite the fact that you have no heart and no mercy for criminals, you are actually a nice person.
As long as no one bothers you.
He got a chance from you. And you let him get as close as you've never been to anyone before.
You failed to kill him, and you no longer wanted to.
Not after everything he's done for you.
He himself could kill you and get rid of you.
But he didn't. He's not afraid that you might kill him in his sleep.
Because he trusts you.
Especially after you let him get so close to your body and heart that he'll never be able to leave again.
The first person you chose to be your husband, and you liked him, was him. Satoru.
Someone who thinks about you and not just about himself.
Even if he didn't want an arranged marriage, he somehow accepted you.
He liked the fact that you had emotions and your own opinion.
That you don't just live by what people think of you.
He only allowed you to try to kill him to prove to you that you are not what people tell you.
You're not cruel.
Even though you have no mercy, you are a loved one for those who are close to you.
Even though there aren't many people in your life who are so nice to you who love you, he was one of those people.
He deserved a place in your heart…
The only man you could love because he didn't see you as just killing anyone who was mean.
He was like that because he killed someone himself. That's the role of the king. Sentence to death, kill in combat.
He wasn't sure if he happened to be more murderous than you.
But your roles were made anyway.
Evil Queen and Good King.
Even if you're on a similar level at murder.
You will be Good, Beautiful Queen by his side.
And people can't say you'll be the same as you were.
Because you are his wife.
And what you decide, you do.
Because you are beautiful, strong and independent.
His great queen.
"It's okay if you still want to kill me." He said, stroking your head reassuringly. "I don't forbid you from trying your best. It was even fun…" he laughed.
You clenched your hands on his sides.
"You can still try to kill me–."
"I don't want to kill you…" you interrupted him, and suddenly you looked at him with a smile. "But don't think I'm going to be a gentle wife."
"And that's something I love." He smiled and placed his lips on your cheek.
"… I thought you didn't want to kill me anymore…" he moaned, feeling the ropes tighten on his body. "So what is it supposed to be?"
You wrapped a red rope around his chest.
He laughed as sweat slowly ran down his face.
He was trying so hard to be calm, but any human can start to panic the moment he can't move.
It was the same with him now.
If you wanted to kill him, you will surely succeed now.
You called him to your chamber. He came.
But then he realized it was quite dark there.
The windows are covered with thick curtains, and the lighting is provided by candles evenly distributed around the room.
There was a chair in the middle.
He called your name several times.
And he expected something perverted from you.
After all, when was it such a climate in the room?
Warm light, alluring atmosphere. so good. So perfect for you.
As he walked over to the heavy chair, he wondered where you got it from.
It was definitely from here. Or did you have a carpenter do it?
It was tall and heavy.
Dimples on the legs, at the height of the ankles, and a specific shape of the back. Like it was perfectly made for his body.
It sure was comfortable.
And he could say it right away.
Besides, this height also showed that it was perfect for Him.
The red fabric covering in the middle and back contrasted with the dark wood.
Is this a gift for him from you?
If so, he'll be glad to lean you against the back of that chair and fuck you into oblivion.
But he knew it wasn't that kind of gift.
You are planning something.
As he ran his fingers along the smooth wood of the backrest, he felt someone pushing him.
When he turned around, he saw it was you. You stepped out from behind a large curtain, pushing him into a chair.
"(y/n)–."
"Don't move." You said grabbing his wrists tightly and pulling them back.
If he had tried to break free from your grip, he would have succeeded.
Because he is strong. But curiosity overcame him. He wanted to see what you would do to him.
But when he felt you wrap the string around his wrists, it was different.
He was curious what you would do to him. And there was also a dangerous excitement.
You've wrapped his big wrists many times as you've been training to keep him from breaking free.
His hands were tightly bound and the constriction in the lower part of the chair prevented him from getting up from the chair because his hands were behind his back and the chair was wider at the top of his back.
Even if he tried, his bound hands wouldn't let him get up.
It took some time to plan what this chair should look like…
And the king's carpenter agreed to do it.
As he leaned forward, you grabbed his head, catching his hair lightly, and pulled his head back, tugging on the white strands.
"No, my king. You can't move yet." You whispered in his ear.
As he listened to you with his pupils dilated to catch the light, you saw his ears blush…
You reached around him, passing the red rope from one hand to the other.
You wrapped his chest around it, leaving space where his tits were.
Something like this could be useful.
Later, you also bound his arms, making the bound hands immobile, and tied to the back of the chair.
You tied it with a strong knot, but you didn't tighten it on him so tight that it left marks. You don't want it to take away his blood supply.
"… I thought you didn't want to kill me anymore…" he moaned, feeling the ropes tighten on his body. "So what is it supposed to be?"
"I will not kill you, my king ~. You just said you wanted to play. Besides, I told you I wouldn't be a gentle queen." You laughed and knelt with him, spreading his legs, then tied his ankles to the legs of the chair. Rope fit perfectly into the cut narrowings.
So that's why it's there…
After you finished, he started to move a little. Struggling. But he couldn't move his body.
It wasn't like he was fighting to get out.
It's as if he's only looking at how powerful the ropes are.
And the sight of you in front of him in a dark red dress with lace was wonderful.
You were so different from other princesses and queens.
They all wore bright, clean dresses.
And you often wore darker colors.
Maybe it's also because the light ones get dirty very quickly?
Especially if the dress is long and touches the floor.
He almost completely calmed down.
Only his heart pounded in his chest.
His breathing was heavier.
You are his dangerous pleasure.
You did something unexpected.
And he liked it.
The dangerous excitement he felt now.
The direction of his blood was clearly directed to his crotch, and he slowly felt it begin to harden in his pants.
"A gentle queen would never do such a thing, huh… And my queen finally caught me, heh." He smiled conceitedly.
"That pretty smile won't be there when you beg me, baby." You said and quickly untied the back of your dress,
Taking it off as you tossed the expensive fabric aside onto the floor, leaving your red petticoat with stockings on you.
You were walking on a soft carpet with a heavy chair on it.
You wanted it to be so heavy that he couldn't knock it over very easily.
Two people brought it here, and it was really hard for them to do it, but they made it.
You also had other surprises for him today.
"Beg? What should I beg for, baby?" He asked with the same smile.
You stood up and grabbed his cheeks to make him look up.
"We both know you can moan and beg like a whore. So be a good boy 'cause I make you beg for touch." you kissed his lips before pulling away and knelt down again, resting your cheek against his inner thigh.
You reached your hand to his increasingly visible cock.
"You like it." You smiled harder.
"I like giving attention from my wife. Will you touch me?" His grin appeared.
At what he said you snapped your fingers at his increasing length, causing him to hiss softly.
"Such a big, nice dick… However, if you still think you're driving now, your dick will be in your pants all the time. So cramped and uncomfortable. Without anything to touch." You said. "So be a good boy. Agreement?"
He looked at you with a blush on his cheeks.
He liked it…
"… Yeah… My queen." he said with a small smile and blush.
"Good boy~."
Suddenly you took out a knife.
He looked at you questioningly.
"You didn't say you were going to cut me." He grunted dissatisfied.
"If I didn't say so, then I won't." You laughed and cut the threads holding the buttons on his shirt.
To finally pull both sides of his shirt hard, revealing his chest.
You wanted to laugh softly as his nipples hardened at the feeling of cold around him.
His pants were getting very uncomfortably tight…
Seeing his displeasure, you reached down to his crotch and unzipped his pants.
He lifted his hips slightly to help you take it off him.
And now his pants and underwear were at his ankles, further restricting his movements when he was bound.
Now he won't do anything. He won't run away.
His pink tip rested on his thigh.
His hands were moving because he wanted so much to start massaging his cock.
Seeing you in front of him just made his skin tingle.
But he couldn't do it.
Only you could touch him because his body was immobile.
You threw the knife to the floor with a loud clatter.
You took off your petticoat, leaving you in only stockings in front of him.
"Without underwear? Be brave, baby." He smiled at the sight of your perky nipples and sweet, soft pussy for him to look at now.
You placed your finger on his lips, silencing him.
"Shh… Do not say anything. If you're a good boy who listens, I'll give you a reward."
"What reward?" he smiled.
"If you don't listen, I won't touch you. And you won't be able to touch either."
"Hard Punishment…"
"I know. That's why you promise to be a good boy?" You stroked his cheek.
He nodded at you, looking away with a blush.
"Perfect." You patted his head. "Good boys always get rewards. And if you promise to be a good boy, why shouldn't I reward you?"
He looked at you curiously as you knelt in front of him, stepping between his spread legs.
Kneeling on his pants that gathered at his ankles.
That's the height you were after.
His cock was perfectly level with your tits.
You reached for his semi-hard cock, licking the tip lightly.
He sighed softly, wanting more…
You licked the bottom of his cock then pulled away.
He looked at you questioningly as you spat on your chest and then down his length, smearing your saliva all over him.
And you moved closer, placing his shaft between your breasts, smearing saliva on your skin.
And when it fit perfectly, you cupped your tits with your hands, making you rub his cock.
He made low grunts as the soft mounds brushed hard against him. Because it was so enjoyable.
You smiled as you watched his flushed cheeks as his flushed cock brushed the tip against your skin until his warm, an oblong and large piece of his body gave hot drops of precum onto your skin.
Much to his displeasure, your touch left his cock, leaving him standing at attention in your direction.
Before he could say anything, he stopped himself, remembering that when he's a good boy, you'll give him a reward.
He carefully watched your wet breasts and how you reached into your hair, untying the black ribbon that held your hair.
You kissed his head, and suddenly wrapped a thin ribbon around its base.
You wrapped the fabric strap around it, pulling it tighter before tying a bow over his balls.
You tweaked it a bit to get a nice view.
His cock, standing and shining, hard. A black bow over his balls. And on its base a tightened strip of material that oppresses it.
You sat on his lap, kissing his chest that wasn't covered with rope until you moved your mouth to his nipple, sucking lightly.
His muscles tensed as you bit down slightly.
Pinching his sensitive bumps with your fingers, you stood over his hips, rubbing your clit lightly against the tip of his, giving both you and him pleasure.
While you're kissing.
His tongue swirled in your mouth before you dominated the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth, causing him to purr.
But as his cock slid lower, touching your entrance, you pulled away from him completely.
You got off his lap and sat on the bed that was five feet in front of him.
"(y/n)~." he murmured. You could feel his plea for touch in his voice.
"You're such a good boy. But I have to punish you for breaking out in the beginning." You said with a winning smile.
You looked at his cock which turned from bright pink to red through the material that was tightened around it.
He looked so cute with that bow.
A big, pretty dick wrapped in a ribbon that swells and throbs.
He will moan so nicely when you sit on him~.
"When you don't complain, it will be faster for you ~."
You lay down suddenly on your back, dipping your fingers into your soft, wet folds.
Spreading out to show him your pussy.
You knew so well that his hungry eyes stared at your dripping folds.
You like the way he looks fucked up and flushed.
He will be very sensitive when you touch him.
With a small smile, you run your fingers over your clit quickly, widening your legs wide for him so he can watch and drool. What is he definitely doing.
It might be a little embarrassing to lie so open to someone, but it's worth your time. To see his fucked up face later when he wants to come.
To show him more, you inserted two fingers of your other hand into you, still moving quickly over your clit.
God, how he wanted to replace your fingers with his.
How he wanted to replace your fingers with his cock.
But he had to be a good boy because he won't get it at all.
Even if he tries to look away to stop feeling the throbbing in his swollen cock, your wet sounds and grunts will still make him stare at the beautiful scene before him.
Your pussy has always been so soft. He loved hiding inside of you so much. Hitting your soft body.
And now he also couldn't miss how your smaller hands are satisfying you.
He loved to dig his fingers and face into your pussy fat. Feeling soft. Feeling the taste. To feel your soft pussy sucking his hard cock inside.
If just looking could bring him to orgasm, he would have shot thick strings of cum long ago.
Not only was nothing touching him, but the bow on it would probably prevent him from coming. As befits a cock-clamping posture.
His breath quivered as your thighs trembled as well, and your fingers stopped as you came with a hollow groan.
He looked at his cock, red and begging for attention.
Drops of precum flowed from its tip, down its side.
If only he could somehow make anything touch his length…
He wanted so much to touch…
With a red face and hazy eyes, he looked at you as you sat on the mattress of the high bed, adjusting your stockings with labored breathing.
Seeing his almost teary eyes, you smiled slightly.
"what's wrong?"
You gave him a stronger smile.
He looked at you, then at his cock, then at you again.
A silent signal that he wants you to touch him.
"Sorry, I don't know what you mean."
"Come here…" he moaned.
"That's not how you should talk. A good boy doesn't talk like that." You waved your finger at him.
He sighed heavily.
He couldn't stand it…
Tears stung his eyes. He was so sensitive and the material on his penis wasn't helping.
"So? What should you say?" You walked over to him, sitting on his lap but being careful not to touch his cock.
His cock was crying with precum.
"Touch me." he murmured.
"I did not hear."
"Touch me." he said sharper.
"That's not how you should call me." You laughed. "I already told you that you would beg me. Show me your sweet face when you beg me."
Flushing, he watched as your hands massaged his thighs, close to his length, but you still hadn't touched him.
"So?"
"touch me please?"
"Better now. But say it louder."
Your fingers untied the bow, but instead of taking it off, you tightened the fabric a little tighter around his thickness.
He opened his mouth, letting out a trembling groan. His eyes released solitary tears as did his cock, which cried with more precum when squeezed.
"P-please…" he groaned, looking at you with glassy eyes.
Taking advantage of the drops of precum running down his cock, you tugged at the fabric, sliding it lightly over his cock. He hissed as he felt the pressure go higher up his length.
It pulsed. You've seen it so much.
His hips jumped as he tried to pull back, but he couldn't.
His legs moved, but he couldn't move them because of the ropes around his ankles.
"I can't hear you, honey~."
As you said, his smile disappeared from his face. And so red and desperate he looked so cute.
You felt your excitement run down your thigh at the mere sight.
"Please…"
"Say it louder and you'll get it." You ran your fingers across his chest.
"Fuck me… Touch me…"
"What are you saying?"
"Fuck me please!" he said out loud and you laughed.
You slowly removed the slightly wet ribbon from it, tossing it aside.
And to his relief, you grabbed his cock, smearing what was oozing from its tip down its impressive length.
So red and pulsating.
It's so begging to put it inside you, and feel all those veins on it.
When you petted him, he felt like he was about to explode.
He's coming really fast…
He doesn't care… He just wants to be in your pussy.
"Good boy."
You moved closer, aligning his weeping length below you, in straight line.
He was swollen. He was a little bigger than he would have been if you hadn't put that ribbon on him.
Which also makes him very sensitive.
He moaned loudly almost immediately as your entrance widened to accommodate the top of him.
After such torture, he finally got around to receiving your attention.
And it was such a great feeling. Almost overwhelming.
His eyes were still glassy and watery.
In one motion, you pushed it all the way in, waiting for you to get used to it.
But for him, the inside of your pussy was too good…
He had his hands on the ropes.
His eyebrows furrowed.
You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling swollen cock dilate you so much.
You looked at his face and smiled.
His arms were shaking. You felt him pulsating inside you.
It felt so good to have him inside.
So big…
You smiled as you sat motionless on his cock.
You kissed his neck.
"You can come. I know you're sensitive."
You jumped on his thighs, making your tight walls stroke him. he was moaning.
"I'm letting you come. Then do it, my king." You pulled his hair up slightly. "I want your sperm."
At your dirty words, he shuddered.
"Use my permission while you can. You don't want me to stop touching you again, do you?" You kissed his jaw to kiss him later.
You move your hips back and forth.
After no more than a moment, he moaned into your mouth, and you felt large amounts of cum filling you intensely.
You pulled it half way out and then sat on it again. Letting him end up completely inside you.
The feeling of his hot cum filling you inside was very pleasant.
Placing your hands on his lap, you arched your back back, watching as his cum flowed out of you with your movement. Even though his softening length acts like a plug for you to keep his seed from flowing out.
He was sensitive to the heat inside you.
But he knew it would make him hard again.
And ready to let your pussy milk him to the last drop again.
"Why are you still throwing a knife at me?" He asked as he tilted his head to the side as a knife landed next to his head.
"Habit… I'm just more irritable…" you said sitting on the bed.
"The blade never hits, so I know you're not trying to kill me." He laughed.
He walked closer to you and offered you his hand.
"People are waiting. Do you have the strength to get up?" He asked protectively. "Would you like to go there?"
"If the people want it, as their queen, I guess I must." You grabbed his hand and stood next to him. "Maybe they finally want to burn me at the stake as a witch."
"Don't joke like that. They would never want to do that to you."
"That's right. I didn't do anything wrong to them."
"You are a great queen to them. Besides, we have to share this information with them sometime."
"You're right… I'm just not used to that kind of thing. But I wouldn't be surprised if they still hate me."
"It's been so long. After all, everything is so perfect. Nobody's going to want to do that to you." He smiled, placing his hand on your lower back. "Besides, in audiences people asked if you were well, because they hadn't seen you outside for a long time."
"Really?"
"You are a great queen to them. How could it be otherwise. Besides, there are lots of people waiting to see us. Did you know that the ill health of a king or queen makes people sad? When they feel devoted to the ruler like those here, they don't play or anything until the ruler recovers. So everyone wants to know what's going on with you. So many times they asked Shoko when she went to visit you what was going on."
"Even as a medic, she didn't tell anyone?" You asked, grabbing his hand as you walked beside him.
"A secret is a secret. But it's best to finally talk about it." He chuckled softly. "If they ever find out anyway, better sooner than later. To avoid controversy among people. After all, not everyone can accept a secret that is still hidden."
"You won…" You smiled at him.
Your dark blue dress was picked up by him as you walk down the stairs next to him.
"Or maybe they want to burn me at the stake?" You asked laughing as you heard people clapping and shouting as the man said you were leaving.
"Does it sound like they want to do this? I hope you'll eventually get used to this kind of love people show."
You went out with him to the low terrace in front of the courtyard where the people had gathered.
When they saw you, they cheered.
Especially when your husband stood behind you, placing his hands on your belly visible under the dress.
like when you get home from a long day at work, tired and done with your coworkers and your boss.
all you want to do is hold your baby in your arms or bury your face between his legs.
and he has no issue when you do, pushing him down onto the couch and pulling his thighs apart.
he already so wet and needy for you when your fingers slid over his clothed slit, teasing him, working him up though he really needs none of that.
his face red, arm thrown over his mouth to keep his whines at bay.
"please-please just touch me~"
"oh but baby, i am touching you."
his head is spinning the whole night as you work him up, making him cum in his pants twice with just your fingers and mouth. rubbing over his clit through the fabric, mouthing at him as his pants soak through.
he watches as your eyes dilate and he knows he's in for it.
nothing will stop you once your mouth is on his bare cunt.
your tongue lapping at his wetness, dipping into his needy hole every so often as he gasps. your lips wrapping around his sensitive clit, sucking on it as his eyes roll back.
no matter how much he sobs, how many times he's cum. how many times he's squirted on your face, the lower part of your face glistening with his juices when you look up at him.
Gojo's thighs tremble around your head, threatening to close for the millionth time had you not been holding them open for you.
poor baby, losing his mind to the pleasure as you plunge your fingers into his cunt, his walls clamping around you, practically sucking you in as if his hoarse begging isn't telling you "it's too much, too much much-!" before breaking off into another hoarse moan.
blue eyes fluttering open and shut, crystalline with tears trembling at his waterline.
how pathetic.
the strongest reduced to a moaning mess under your touch.
the flowers of the bouquet satoru has shoved in your face are strikingly gorgeous, complimenting to your eyes. it’s a wonder where he’s bought such an arrangement, let alone the amount of 0s in the cost of it.
you scoff out a laugh, cheeks growing warmer by the second. “okay, sure.”
satoru turns an even darker shade of red at that, and his jaw goes slack once more. here he is for the second time trying to confess, and you seem to be taking him just as seriously as you did the first. if his heart wasn’t about to slam right through his chest, he’d be offended that you can take this so lightly. you and your bubbly laughter at his fumbled words and the nervous furrow in his brows, as if he needs something else about you to keep him up late at night. honestly…he may even be a little jealous.
“i—“, satoru starts, clears his throat. “i’m not lying!”
oh, you know. the satoru gojo you know has never looked like this a day in his life, not as long as you’ve known him—a little pathetic, but you think it’s endearing, cute in a sort of puppy-dog kind of way. how he won’t hold your gaze for more than a second, keeps shifting his weight back and forth, lips keep parting to say something before his brows scrunch even further and whatever satoru wanted to spill dries up on his tongue.
wow. when he said he was in love with you, he really meant in love with you.
☆. contains: 18+ mdni, boyfriend!satoru gojo x fem!reader; sub!satoru and dom!reader, established relationship, satoru is wearing a white button-up and black slacks (my favourite pretty boy), reader is wearing heels and a dress, satoru is tied up wc: 1.6k
what a sight.
satoru gojo, the honored one, the strongest, fully at your disposal. sitting legs spread on a chair with his hands tied behind his back with his own tie. both of you know, if he wanted, he could get out in a millisecond. but the fact is - he doesn’t want to. he loves this. he loves being put into his place. likes it when his pretty little girlfriend takes control, makes him beg and whine.
the first four buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, his sleeves are rolled up behind his back and his black slacks are already too fucking tight, the obvious bulge straining in his pants.
you’re sitting on a chair opposite of him, all dolled up. the two of you had just gotten back from your restaurant date, it went well, of course. but as always, your boyfriend couldn’t hold his hands to himself and is now getting punished for it. you know he does it on purpose, but hell, you’re enjoying this much as he is. possibly even more.
you’re sitting with one of your legs over your knee, leaning back in the chair and a smug smile on your face. you love him like this. pupils dilated, head threatening to fall forward as if it’s too heavy for him to hold up, cheeks and neck all red and flushed, chest heaving already. you haven’t even done anything to him.
your smirk only widens when he connects his crystal blue eyes with your lust filled ones. you take the leg resting over your knee and place it down on the ground, spreading your legs and slightly pulling the hem of your dress up, exposing your baby blue panties. his eyes drop down and when he sees the obvious wet patch on them, he lets out a deep groan. he tries to swallow the lump in his throat but it’s so hard to focus, it’s hard to fucking breathe.
“mm, what is it, baby?” you purr at him.
“p-please…” satoru whines out as he tries to thrust his hips upward, in order to get any sort of relief, his eyes rolling back into his head in the process.
you chuckle lowly at his desperation. “this is your own fault, you know.”
he swallows and nods at your words. “i-i’m sorry, baby.”
still leaned back in the chair, you slowly raise one of your legs and move it over to his crotch so your heeled toes are just barely touching satoru’s bulge.
his breath hitches.
you hum as you drink up every single one of his movements. he’s your sensitive boy.
you push up against him a bit more and his head falls back, chest rapidly moving up and down. his fingernails are leaving strong marks inside his palms behind his back, fuck. you lean a bit forward in your chair, mesmerized by his want and need.
“satoru.”
he lets out a weak whine and you see his adam’s apple bob.
“look at me.”
satoru slowly raises his head and meets your gaze. he feels like he’s going to melt. like he’s going to melt into a puddle right here, right now. you’re doing so much and yet so little to him, he’s going insane. he watches you bite down on your lip and another meek whimper leaves his pretty lips.
you slowly drag your foot over his one thigh to his knee, down his calf, then to his other leg, up to his knee, over his thigh again and back to his bulge, all while keeping eye contact with the man.
his eyes seem to well up but he refuses to turn away from you. he ruts his hips against your foot and the slight pressure from it makes him groan. fuck, you look divine. you look hungry, like you’re going to pounce on him any second, like you’re going to devour him alive.
the eye contact is making the both of you crazy. he is definitely going to cum in his pants but it feels like you might also orgasm completely untouched, only by watching him writhe and whine under you. he’s outright putty in your hands and your hands only. nobody else gets to see him like this. it’s all for you.
you apply a bit more pressure to his crotch with the ball of your foot, the heel slightly brushing against his balls. another loud grumble escapes his throat and his eyes almost close but he’s determined to burn this version of you into his mind.
rubbing it now, you eyes burn into his. he keeps grinding his hips against your foot and he seems oh, so desperate.
“does that feel good, hm, baby?” a tinge of condescension in your tone evident but he doesn’t hear it, too busy focusing on the pleasure you’re giving him. he only nods as an answer.
“you’re a big boy, use your words.”
“f-fuck, yes. it feels s-so fucking g-good. huh, shit.” he babbles out and you laugh. “p-please, please don’t stop. baby, please, fuck.”
the temptation to touch your now soaked cunt is so high but you know he’s gonna take care of it, of you, after you’re done with whatever this is. no matter how much you tease him, bully him, he will always make you feel good, make you cum, make you shake and tremble in his caring strong arms. make you in turn moan and whine for him. and you can’t help but feel excited, knowing what a long night this will turn into.
you know he’s close because he finally lets his eyes roll back into his head. his forehead and neck are covered in a sheen of sweat and some stray hair are clinging to his face. poor boy. hips still wildly rutting against you, like a good puppy, so incredibly desperate for your touch. he just need a bit more. satoru thinks about your hands on him, your fingers in his hair, you dragging your nails down his chest, his back, your mouth on his, your soft lips trailing his thighs, leaving purple marks in their wake—
“ask for it”
you break his thoughts with your sharp question and he feels confused, overwhelmed. ask for it? he feels you all around him, your perfume clouding his mind. the pressure of your foot on him and your eyes, your eyes. he’s so fucking close, he just needs you to—
“ask permission to cum.”
fuck.
you press down even harder and it borderline hurts but it feels so fucking good. you feel so fucking good. you make him feel so good. you’re the only thing on his mind. he just wants to cum. wants to cum for you. he wants to thank you. thank you for being in his life, thank you for making him feel things he never has before.
you see his adam’s apple bob again, the tears in his eyes threatening to drop. the dangerous smile on your lips is immovable, you’ve never felt more powerful. satoru, on the other hand, hasn’t felt this frail ever. you’re going to break him under your touch and then put him back together and that excites him more than anything.
his pants are so fucking tight, the collar of his shirt, albeit unbuttoned, is choking him. he can’t breathe properly. the tie around his wrists is really beginning to dig into him and it’s just too much. you’re fogging his fucking brain.
he’s so close, it hurts.
“p-please! baby, fuck! i’m so- ahhh! p-please, i need it!” he slurs. he sounds drunk, his words falling from his mouth so fast, like he has no control over them.
“what happened to using your big boy words, satoru, hm?”
the way his name sounds coming from your lips almost does it for him. tears paint his cheeks, falling to his white shirt, leaving big wet stains. his own lip quivers and an embarrassingly high-pitched moan escapes his throat.
“c-can i cum? please, darling? m'sorry, okay? f-fuck, please, can i cum? i wanna cum f'you. so badly. p-please?” his words all slur together, his desperation evident. the need for you bubbling up from the bottom of his heart.
the chesire cat grin on your face only widens at his pretty words.
“cum for me, baby”
you press down just a tad bit harder and the tension in his lower belly finally snaps. and he sounds heavenly. he’s letting out such beautiful moans and groans, you feel your own arousal drip down your thighs. his dick twitches in his boxers as he soaks them with his cum. he’s trembling now and his chest is heaving so heavily, one might think he’s going to pass out. hell, he thinks he might pass out.
you take your foot off of his crotch and gently place it over his strong thigh, not once taking your eyes off of him. his lips are a bit swollen, tear stains on his face. he’s the most beautiful boy in the world and he’s all yours.
still coming down from his orgasm, the wet patch apparent on his black slacks, trying to calm his breathing. you pull your leg from his, only to drop down from your chair, down to your knees and crawl between his long legs. he’s startled by your sudden actions but he doesn’t have the energy nor the courage to ask about it. all he can do is stare down at you with with wide eyes and a flushed face. you rest your head on his thigh and look up at him with dark eyes and a wicked smile.
satoru loves first dates. he thinks there’s something so intrinsically sweet about a first date and the anticipation/fluttery feelings around it. it’s why even several years into a relationship with him he still treats every date with you like it’s the first
he’s all giddy leading up to it. buys a whole bouquet of flowers and hides them behind his back while he knocks on your door. as soon as you open it he’s bringing it up to your field of view; he’s a little silly about it so he covers his face first with the bouquet and then peaks his head around with a shy smile, peering at you to gauge your reaction. when he grabs your hands his palms are a little clammy, as if he’s nervous for how the night will go. he’s very gentlemanly and only initiates soft kisses on your cheek or short pecks on your lips, brief but lingering touches, respectful stares— reserving the kind of modesty he had during your very first outing many moons ago
when he drops you off at your house he walks you to your door. thanks you for joining him on the night out and says he had a really good time with you and how he’d love to go out again sometime. you entertain him with a small giggle but eventually roll your eyes playfully and grab his collar, tugging him inside your house with a lovesick laugh, “just get in here already, ‘toru, did you forget you’re staying the night?”
SUMMARY : five times satoru has said your name with different kinds of emotions, and one time he said your name softly.
CONTENT : fluff, friends to lovers, angst, smut, s2 spoilers, sub!satoru, dom!fem!reader, riding, praise, dacryphilia (lots of crying), handjob, two orgasms, creampie, small aftercare
W. COUNT : 8,0k
AUT. NOTE : this took a ridiculous amount of time, and i’m still not satisfied with it !! :(
you gulped at the “welcome to jujutsu high” sign standing tall at the entrance of the school you were transferred to just a few days ago. apparently, it was due to your ‘ability to see curses’—mind you, what the hell was a curse anyway?
sure, some strange creatures always kept peeking out from behind the buildings whenever you were on your way to school or back, but you always thought you were just a bit insane. or at least, that’s what your parents, who couldn’t see curses, always told you.
years of therapy that you didn’t even need were hopeless to shut down your worries, and you sometimes wonder if you were just as out of your mind as everybody, even your friends think.
“aliens? cut that crap out, [name]!” they would laugh at you.
the information you have spilled to your therapist somehow reached yaga, the principal of the school you were walking through at the very moment, who wasted no time to reach out to you, happy to explain every one of your questions.
well, he wasn’t exactly happy to realize yet another bright teenager like you will spend years of torture and the burden of being a sorcerer, building up friendships just to watch them drop dead one by one—only to end up like them.
he didn’t tell you that because he knew you were already aware of the amount of pain you would go through once you accepted your position as a student at jujutsu high.
but it was worth a try, right?
you were currently following the principal. he told you to just stay quiet and let him introduce you to your new classmates and future mission partners.
the door into the classroom was slammed open by yaga, and his cold and stoic face matched his deep voice that echoed through the room, “good morning─”
“good morning, sensei!” a white-haired male yells from his seat, his grin spreading from one ear to another. your jaw dropped when you took a good look at him.
he was drop-dead gorgeous.
the iconic glasses he always used to wear were abandoned on his desk to reveal his vibrant blue eyes that could kill by the way they lit up the whole room—which was lowkey a bit creepy. nevertheless, the shade of the blue was just so hypnotic that you couldn’t look away.
the boy’s six eyes immediately get triggered under your stare, and he wastes no time to let his dramatic side out.
“sensei—” the male begins, taking a big inhale, and your face already cringes when you realize his plan is nothing else but to yell at the top of his lungs, “she’s staring!”
the classroom falls dead silent, and you watch the other male with a bun slap the back of the white-haired’s head. the girl next to them sat unbothered, her lips pursing at the awkward silence.
“satoru . . .” yaga warns him, making the boy flinch and shrink back to his seat with a wobbly but embarrassed smile that shows how much he’s prepared for the whole hour of scolding from the principal later.
the older man sighs, “this is your new classmate, [name].”
you stand in front of the board in silence as yaga begins to explain some things that are not related to you—instead, you pay attention to the gazes of the trio you just learned to recognize as your classmates.
a brunette girl on your right, closest to the window. a guy with a bun who was sitting in the middle. and, of course, a white-haired guy closest to the door. maybe that is why your eyes landed on him the second you stepped in.
from what you could tell, the black-haired male held zero judgment towards you by the way he offered you a friendly smile that made his eyes curl into the shape of a crescent moon. he looked kind, and you smiled back.
the girl was questionable at first. she looked up and down at you, and for a second, you were afraid her face would do the twist of disgust, and she would roll her eyes as most of the girls in your school did—but she didn’t. instead, she offered you the same smile the boy on her right did.
the white-haired male—satoru, as yaga mentioned—was a bit different. his reaction was rather interesting. aside from yelling at the top of his lungs that you were staring at him, he did exactly what you expected from the girl on the left.
“[name]?” satoru huffs in annoyance. he stared at you with a pout, his face twisting. but it wasn’t a judgmental twist that would make you burst out in tears and run away from the room—even when you didn’t say a single word, and your voice was still unknown to him.
“i don’t like her,” satoru huffs proudly. the attention he was expecting was far away from reality than he would like to admit. angry look from yaga, an annoyed look from his two other classmates, and a sad look from you.
maybe this was a sign for him to never speak again.
“suguru,” satoru whispered harshly, nudging his elbow into the boy’s side, who was already sending him an ‘are you serious’ look, “back me up!”
suguru clicked his tongue, “raise your hand if you care.”
the silence that fell right after suguru’s words was so damn awkward that even you couldn’t help but feel bad for the amount of embarrassment satoru must have felt after not a single person in the room raised their hand. his head hung low in shame, the sound of his forehead slamming against the desk only making others roll their eyes.
“i apologize for satoru’s behavior, [name]. please, feel free to take a seat.” yaga says, but immediately finds the issue of why you never sat down—the only available spot was right next to satoru. yaga clears his throat.
“suguru? shoko? please,” the principal didn’t have to repeat himself twice for the two of them to nod and switch their seats so that you could be as far as possible from satoru and his bratty personality.
the rest of the class period was quiet, but you could feel satoru’s gaze on you almost every five minutes—just about every time yaga turned his back to all four of you to write something on the board. so as soon as the teacher lifted the piece of chalk to write something, satoru had his head snapped in your direction.
“ignore him,” shoko whispered since even though satoru wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was so easy to pick up that even yaga, who had turned around for a while, knew what was going on behind his back.
after what felt like forever, the class came to an end—that couldn’t be said the same for satoru’s non-stopping stare that went on and on for the past hour without breaking. but once you found the courage to make eye contact with him, he was a long time gone.
you sigh in defeat and wonder if maybe next time you will be able to talk to satoru normally without him him having the need of digging blades into you with his stare.
“hey,” shoko spoke, “can i get your number?”
the weekend followed. you questioned why you had to be transferred to the school on friday and why they just couldn’t let you stay home for the weekend and then show you the school—but who are you to wander into yaga’s office and complain.
when shoko texted you just some location of a random street without telling you any context or clues, anxiety began to rise within your body. funny how a simple “meet us there” was able to shake you up so much.
no, they won’t kidnap you and beat you until death just because satoru was too picky with his choices of making new friends—you had to insure yourself.
“hey, you came!” shoko cheers as soon as you come into her vision, and you tell yourself that it wasn’t so bad, you were just overthinking again. a special habit you had for the longest time, “i’m glad you did.”
suguru nods with that same kind smile and adds, “we were afraid you wouldn’t show up.”
you smiled at their words, genuinely grateful you won’t spend all your sorcerer years as a punching bag for some mean kids who were raised without any sort of manners.
there were two other people, both male. the blonde one introduced himself quietly but with a hint of respect while the brunette one just shook your hand, looking like he was about to burst from having too much energy.
“we’ll go check the movie seats. wait here, okay?” shoko waved, and you nodded, soon enough finding yourself a nice empty bench while the other four entered the movie theater.
the streets were quiet, and you had to admit that it was quite relaxing. not until you heard heavy footsteps and a very familiar voice rushing right in your direction. you cursed under your breath.
“nooo! they went inside already?!” satoru dramatically collapses right next to you, the plastic bag that he was holding landing right on top of your lap. fortunately, none of the things ended up broken.
after satoru was done with his fake sobbing and whining about how he “checked the time multiple times” and “how dare they go inside without him”, he took the bag from your lap to his to open it.
“i’m sorry. about uh,” satoru clears his throat, “yesterday.”
for a second, you froze. apology from satoru gojo himself? oh, you were so flattered you could yell it out from the rooftops. but truth be told, you weren’t affected by his yesterday act at all. maybe that has something to do with your “people’s people” personality.
“oh, no, no!” you wave it off. satoru hears your voice for the first time, and he’s shocked about how sweet and gentle it sounds, “it’s okay, really─”
“no, i’m serious,” satoru cuts you off before you have the chance to rant about how truly you didn’t care and that sometimes, first impressions just don’t go as many people would like them to be, and that’s okay.
“i brought you this as an apology. i hope you like sweets as much as i do!” the sorcerer shoots you the same grin he did yesterday when greeting yaga. “please accept it. it was the last piece.”
satoru hands you a plastic box of edamame and cream kikufuku—a small tag hung from the side of it, and the price that was supposed to be on it was harshly ripped apart so you were unable to tell how much he spent.
you hummed, “thank you, gojo—”
“satoru. please, call me satoru.”
“okay, satoru.” you smile, feeling happy with the whole situation. at first, he was an asshole who looked like he wanted to throw you out of the classroom just because you were breathing, and now, he spent god-knowing how much yen just to buy you an apology gift.
“hey, the movie is starting—oh, satoru!” suguru’s smile got wider at the sight of his best friend and you sitting next to each other, satoru’s favorite kikufuku flavor on your lap.
satoru, immediately after hearing suguru’s voice, grinned and jumped up from his seat. you came running right after them, tightly holding the sweet dessert the white-haired boy had bought you close to your chest as if it was the most precious and important thing in the whole world.
the movie was, in your opinion, boring. supposedly, it was a famous summer horror that your classmates, along with haibara and nanami, wanted to see for the longest time.
the plot wasn’t even that bad, and it had the potential to be interesting if it wasn’t for the poor choice of actors in the movie. the budget was low too, and it showed. so the only thing you really could do was stare at the poor attempts of what was supposed to be a jumpscare.
“oh, man . . .” satoru groaned from beside you and gave in to the impulse thought of spreading his long, aching limbs everywhere they could fit—because he was the strongest, who was gonna stop him when his spreading arms would block their vision of the threader screen?
“this movie is boring!” the sorcerer was now spread all over his seat, your seat, and also you. the boy takes good notice of how you didn’t even look at him when his legs landed right on your lap and how you continued to stare at the screen with a blank expression.
satoru decided to push his luck to spread out even more than he already was. but this time, his head took the place of his legs—right on your lap. finally, you did look down at the recognition of something shaped like a head, and you smiled when you saw the white-haired boy grin up and you.
what you didn’t expect was when satoru’s thumb rose to flick his own forehead multiple times, mentioning for you to kiss the spot he had touched just now. and you listened. bending down a bit, your hand removed all the bangs his hand wasn’t able to scoop, and your lips contacted the skin of his forehead.
“didn’t know you would fall so easily, [name]!” satoru says teasingly, followed by a genuine chuckle. his toothy grin shoved appearance again, and you bit down your lip so as not to burst out laughing and ruin the movie experience for the other people.
a quit flash of a camera, “cut it out, lovebirds,” shoko had to lean over to whisper from her seat so that the guy, who was already glaring at her for taking a picture in the threader, wouldn’t bash her out.
“get a room, you two!” suguru chuckled from the other side and watched both of your faces catch an adorable shade of pink that would be hard to get rid of once the same thing might happen later.
because satoru is definitely getting another kiss from you.
“ew! look how ugly that is!” riko squeaked out of disgust, pointing at a strange-looking creature that desperately tried to bury itself back in the sand before another wave of ocean water arrived and filled the hole again.
the worm-like creature kept digging even after many failed attempts to disappear from the hungry seagulls who kept circling above the four of you for the past half hour.
“ew!” your boyfriend yelled, voice high-pitched when he burst out laughing at the poor animal trying, but failing, to borrow itself away from the flying predators, “don’t worry, princess!” he jumps in from of you, “i will protect you from that gut-wrenching alien!”
“it’s a sea cucumber,” you deadpan, watching suguru and riko chuckle at satoru’s reaction—which was giving you a long face before letting his head fall in defeat, close to throwing a tantrum, “help it, satoru.”
“you’re no fun!” the boy huffs but listens to you anyway. his colossal hands dug deep into the sand, and once reaching a good size, satoru stared at you in silence.
“what?” you question.
“come put the thing into the hole.” satoru gulps, wondering if you’re playing about being clueless about what he wants you to do, or if you’re dead serious.
“why?” you question again.
“it was your idea!” satoru yells. his voice held nervousness and more cracks than the strongest would like to admit.
“don’t tell me you’re scared.” you tease, earning a chuckle from suguru who leaned over your ear to whisper, “oh, he definitely is.”
satoru gasped, “no way!”
“just admit it, i won’t laugh—” you get cut off, needing to bite your lip in order not to burst out laughing because the strongest is afraid of a little sea cucumber.
“you’re already laughing!” the white-haired boy protests, pointing at you with one of his long and slim fingers that he didn’t dare to wrap around the animal.
you roll your eyes at the sorcerer and decide to put the situation into your own hands. so easily, you pick up the marine creature and put it into the hole that your boyfriend has dug. he, immediately, throws the leftover sand back at the sea cucumber right before another wave could come.
“i don’t want to see that alien near me ever again!” satoru made a fake gagging noise, holding you by your shoulder so that you won’t have the audacity to run away and find yet another sea cucumber—and maybe even chase him with it.
the sun began to set soon enough. the seagulls were gone, no longer praying on the poor sea cucumber. riko was wet from being thrown into the ocean water by satoru, and you and suguru spent a lot of time building a perfect sand castle. in secret, suguru would peek around, making sure all four of you were safe, and nobody was here to take the star plasma vessel away.
“we should go back,” suguru suggested, dusting his hands to get rid of the leftover sand he used to build a sandcastle. you nod at his words, turning around to call out for the two other idiots who are still in the water, “satoru! riko!” you yell, catching both of their attention.
satoru stuck out his tongue at the young girl before using his long legs to reach out to you and pick you up without effort. “you look ridiculous!” you squeaked. the leftover sunscreen that didn’t sink into his skin was decorating his cheeks and nose, making him look paler than he already was.
“back we go!” satoru yells, rushing past his best friend to be the first one to reach the hotel—with you still in his arms, looking like a princess the way he was holding you.
by the time satoru sets you down, you’re already in your hotel room. exhausted, you collapse on the bed, “i’m going to take a shower,” you mumbled into the sheets before you picked yourself up and grabbed your towel.
“alright, princess!” satoru grins from behind you, sending you a small wave before you disappear into the bathroom of your hotel. the sorcerer could finally let his grin drop, the same exhausted collapse on the bed following his mind.
but he couldn’t. he had to stay up for the sake of riko. even if it meant another sleepless night would have to haunt the already tired sorcerer. he was the strongest, after all. one night without sleeping won’t kill him.
“satoru?” you call out, confused. the room was empty by the time you stepped out of the shower—no sight of your boyfriend. your footsteps were quiet as you moved down the hall, only to find satoru sitting in the lobby alone.
you kneel in front of him, “you should sleep.”
“can’t,” satoru hums, “too dangerous.”
you sigh at his words. the whole star plasma vessel thing was fucked up and already made your head ache. and the fact you had to watch your boyfriend’s eyebags grow by each day wasn’t helping.
“don’t worry about me, [name],” satoru assured you as if reading your mind, voice visibly tired as he spoke.
“i’ll still worry about you,” you begin, placing a soft peck on his lips, “but i’ll let it go. just . . . don’t exhaust yourself too much, okay?” you blink up at him, and for the last time this long night, he shot you his iconic toothy grin.
you waved at him, ready to turn around and leave—as you were grateful he was sacrificing his own sleep hours so that you could have yours. not until you heard his sweet voice.
“don’t forget to dream about me!”
the first thing in the morning was your boyfriend clinging to your arm, asking: “did you dream about me?” with a pout and puppy eyes that begged you to play along and say—
“yeah,” you ruffle his hair, “i did, ‘toru.”
satoru does a girlish gasp, covering his open mouth with both of his hands like a high-school girl—partly mocking sweet riko, who was eyeing him from the other side of the public plane.
your boyfriend stuck out his tongue, earning a smack from suguru, “cut it out, satoru.”
satoru’s reaction was a huff and dramatic snap of his head towards your direction. you, too busy looking out of the window, didn’t notice his glare. offended by your “not on purpose” ignorance, satoru let out an even louder, and more dramatic huff.
“do you need something, satoru?” you ask, finally tearing your eyes from the amazing view you got from up here.
“your attention?” satoru grins, and once hearing your heavy sigh, he knew he won. spreading himself all over the place, his head landed on your lap just like it did the first time in the threader. the memory almost brought tears—
“hey!” suguru yells, eye-widened, “get your feet off me!”
you lean forward to take a better look, almost bursting out laughing. in order for satoru to place his head on your lap and fit into his seat at the same time, his long legs spread all over his best friend’s lap. poor suguru, of course, didn’t appreciate that kind of behavior.
“deal with it,” satoru mouths, fixing his glasses by using his middle finger to push it further up his nose—flipping off his best friend in his favorite way. suguru stared back at him in disbelief, shaking his head with squinted eyes.
satoru didn’t take his legs off suguru for the rest of the flight, and the other male had to just suck it up and let you and your boyfriend have a romantic moment. but suguru would lie if he said he wasn’t irritated by satoru’s smug grin when you massaged his scalp.
the strongest didn’t have to watch his buddy’s angry stare ever since he drifted off, leaving satoru and you alone for a few hours.
“princess?” satoru spoke, and even when he likes to bother his best friend any chance he gets, his tone is quiet, not to disturb his sleep. you hum, and he continues, “i love you.”
your eyebrows furrowed, “i love you too . . . is everything okay?” you ask just in case, not expecting him to say something so casual with such a strange expression.
for a second, satoru freezes. your eyes were so soft while you waited patiently for his answer, not rushing him and expecting an answer right away just like everybody else in his life did. he was the strongest, right? what took him so long to answer such a simple question?
“everything’s fine,” satoru assured you, but you didn’t fail to notice the desperate squeeze he gave your hand. your hand sent a squeeze back, and the boy relaxed back into your lap, nodding, “promise.”
“take a nap, okay?” you suggest. the flight will last longer than all of you thought it did, and a little taste of sleep did sound nice—satoru thought it through and nodded.
satisfied by his choice of answer, you shifted yourself a bit lower to give the sorcerer more room to fully relax. he was grateful that you didn’t want him to wake up with an aching neck and burning spine.
and trust me, he did thank you by the time all of you woke up and stepped out of the plane. but now, as you walked up the many stairs of the jujutsu high, your legs ached for just a quick break.
“so─many─stairs!” you huff and take a step up with every pause, earning a shit-eating grin from your boyfriend who was able to walk up multiple stairs at once without even breaking a sweat.
“we’re almost inside the jujutsu high’s barrier,” suguru says out loud, and you wish you could just tell him that the fact he just mentioned didn’t help your aching legs or your tired brain that was overthinking all flight after satoru fell asleep.
speaking of satoru—he kept grinning all the way upstairs, never once leaving your side. as if he wanted to watch you suffer with each step.
“i could always carry you, you know?” satoru’s annoying grin got wider, if that’s even possible, as he was eager to watch your reaction. you, of course, turned him down.
the second you pass the last stair, you bend over to catch your hands on your knees. the way you gulped and gasped for air made suguru laugh as he praised everyone for making it to the top.
your eyes rolled back in “pleasure” when the jujutsu high barrier’s cold air made contact with your sweaty skin, and you sighed in relief. the only thing you needed right now was a cold shower.
the comforting feeling left as fast as it came when a warm liquid splashed your cheeks. horrified, your eyes shifted to your left to find the source—only the find your boyfriend with a sword pierced through his torso.
“satoru!” a blood-curdling scream that echoed through the whole jujutsu high campus called out his name, and suguru wasted no time to rush to you, who were already running to your boyfriend.
suguru’s curse was quick to send the attacker away, but when you reached out to help satoru, his palm stopped you right away. “i’m fine,” he smiled, acting like his uniform was not completely soaked in blood.
you were still in shock, unable to choke out anything “just ‘cause your boyfriend was fucking stabbed in front of you and his blood was on your face.” satoru felt bad for the scene he caused—even suguru and riko were worried.
“[name],” satoru said sternly, one hand cupping your cheek to fully ground you into listening to his words. which were, according to him, very important, “you and suguru, take riko and flee. i’ll finish him off.”
you wanted to slap satoru—scream and yell at him for how insane he must have to be to just tell you to leave him all by himself while you, suguru, and riko ran to safety. but then again, he was the strongest. who were you to argue with someone like him in a situation like this?
so you nodded, took riko by her arm, and together with the other sorcerer that was already waiting for your lead, you ran. there was only one thing you could do—believe in him.
“believe in the strongest,” you have told yourself, having enough faith in satoru to let him fight someone who was able to trick his infinity and land a perfect stab that made the time itself pause, letting everybody process that fact.
satoru would laugh, “a perfect stab? he wasn’t even able to hit my fetal organs!” you could already imagine the cocky grin he would shoot you just to make you feel less worried.
but now, the strongest has been announced dead.
the moment those words reached your brain, you were already thrown to the ground with a gun pointing at your motionless body. you could pick yourself up and continue the fight—but what was life without satoru, the only thing that made your life as a sorcerer not so miserable?
your face was still covered in satoru’s blood, which was now dried up. even while finding the motivation to raise your hand and clean your skin, the blood was simply too hard and stuck to your face.
your cheek lay against the cold concrete as you didn't have the energy to get up from the position the man had thrown you into. now, you were basically forced to watch suguru’s curses destroy the temple in the hope of killing whoever started this.
but is this what you really wanted? was this something that satoru would wish you to do? lay down and hear suguru’s screams whenever he got slashed across the chest, or even slammed into the hard walls of the buildings?
maybe you did consider yourself useless, but against the man who killed satoru gojo himself, everybody was—even suguru. but the difference is that he didn’t give up. hearing his best friend die stung, and so did the death of riko when he watched a bullet fly straight into her brain and watch her drop dead right in front of him. but suguru dusted himself off and kept fighting.
but by the time you somehow managed your shaky arms to support your weight to sit up, the man was gone—and so was riko’s body. you were useless to protect the girl and fight against the enemy.
the least you could do was limp all the way to suguru and help him reach shoko in time. you already lost one fucking important person in your life and you were sure as hell not gonna lose another one. so you ignored the burning feeling in your legs and dragged the male to shoko.
during suguru’s treatment, you stayed quiet. the cold wall that pressed against your back triggered every one of your nerves—if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been shut down the moment you received the news about satoru—but you were too weak to even pull away.
“[name],” yaga’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, disoriented eyes weakly lifting to meet his, “satoru’s alive.”
star religious group facilities—you never ran so fast in your life like you did right now. from one place to another, you cursed yourself for the members who have built some many of these places, as if one wasn’t enough.
“slow down!” suguru yelled. you didn’t listen, jumping off one of his curses to reach another building where you were supposed to meet satoru. so far, it was no good, and both of you were unable to spot the familiar white hair you grew to love.
the door was harshly torn open, and you were ready to let out a disappointing whine at the lack of people in the room. the thought was far from reality.
a bright room filled with hundreds of people, all dressed in white. the clapping sound of their palms directly hitting against each other made your ears ring. even suguru, who was peeking out from behind you, began to worry at your reaction.
the room went quiet when your eyes landed on the tall man walking right towards you. people didn’t stop clapping, and suguru’s mouth moved but no words came out.
there he was─the strongest, alive.
“you’re late, suguru, [name] . . .” satoru’s tone had caught you off guard. he sounded so emotionless, and his stare was blank, not a single ounce of his personality showing. the light in his eyes died too, making you choke up a sob you didn’t dare to release.
there was no need to cry. satoru was right in front of you, alive. his heart was beating, and every fetal wound he had back then was gone.
“should we kill these guys? the way i feel right now, i doubt i’d feel anything about it,” satoru asks. you froze, blinking.
the strongest was far away from being fine. later that day, all three of you returned home with a new kind of trauma that would haunt you for the rest of your life. but that was the life of a sorcerer. helping the weak and taking all the burden on yourself so that others don’t have to.
satoru was a bit shook up, only capable of creating a small form of sentences—a good start. but in the morning, he’ll be the same sunshine as he always is. that was all you could think about as you dragged your soap-covered hands up and down satoru’s back, watching all the blood fall by your feet and drench somewhere into the sewers.
shoko had already cleaned you up, but when satoru was already fast asleep in the comfort of his bed, you stayed up all night to dig your fingers into your skin in the hope of getting rid of the feeling of satoru’s blood on your face.
something like this will never happen again, you swear.
“great. now you need to add—” whatever came out of the woman’s mouth next was just blurred-out words—good for nothing sentences as you stared at the burnt pancakes with horror in your eyes.
months passed since the star plasma vessel accident, and you have grown more comfortable. satoru has been doing better too, not affected by the past events anymore.
now, you stood in the middle of the jujutsu high dorm’s kitchen. the food you have been currently working on has been burned into near ashes, making you question your cooking skills.
soon enough, you grew tired of the smell and decided to clean up so the other students wouldn’t have to work in a mess you created by your poor attempt at the evening snack.
you left the window open just in case your nose got too used to the smell, and the others would have different experiences with the terrible smell—avoiding scolding from yaga, who would never allow you to cook again. even if it meant for you to starve.
but when you returned to your dorm room, your moment of peace and quiet didn’t last as long as you wanted it to be. a small and almost shy knock came from the direction of the wooden door. too curious to ignore the person and throw yourself on the soft cushions of your bed, you rushed to answer whoever was waiting outside.
you were shocked to make eye contact with satoru, whose teary eyes and irregular breathing hinted to you he was on the verge of a panic attack—your thoughts were confirmed when a heart-breaking sob left escaped his mouth.
“h-he left . . .” satoru whispered, lips trembling. before you were given the chance to ask something, you watched him gasp for air with a pained expression, “he fucking left me!”
you stood frozen—who left? you don’t recall any news from yaga that was more recent than a few weeks ago. through the months of being a sorcerer, you never experienced the loss of someone who would decide to leave the school.
perhaps you misunderstood, and satoru was hinting at some random friend of his that he had never mentioned before. maybe they passed away, leaving your boyfriend shaking and in tears as he knocked on your door. but even then, whose absence could affect him this much?
“suguru!” satoru sobs as if he had taken your confused face as a hint for him to explain. unfortunately, his brain was mush at the moment, and the only thing he wanted to think about was getting rid of all the sadness—with your help.
“suguru? what do you—satoru, don’t . . .” you slurred out when you felt his hand weakly tug at your pants, and you immediately knew what his intentions were. you couldn’t allow him to trust you with removing his sadness, not when it involved a still unknown situation with suguru.
“p-please! please, please, please!” satoru sobs, even louder than his first try was. obviously, he wanted you to pity him and give in to drown him in the pleasure he needed so badly.
you shook your head, sternly stating: “satoru, no.” but his loud cries never died down—in fact, they only increased at your rejection. he just wanted for you to let him escape reality, so why did you keep saying no?
satoru fully broke down, hugging your waist from his kneeling position as if his life depended on it. “n-need you, please. just this once . . .” the puppy eyes he had given you was something he used only to really convince you to do something. but even then, he never used it in a serious situation like this.
“not right now, satoru,” you slowly lift him up, forcing small steps out of him before he collapses on your bed, “you’re in pain right now, you don’t realize what you’re saying. by the time you sober up, you’ll regret what you’ve asked for . . .”
the strongest shook his head and kept clinging to you like a baby koala, too afraid to face the reality of the world. what you were saying was true, and satoru’s actions weren’t as healthy as they sounded—but why did it hurt this much?
“b-but—” satoru gasps at the lack of oxygen in his lungs when he tries to confront you about whatever is happening right now but fails to do so, sobbing with frustration, “just this once . . . all i’m asking for—please!”
you weren’t sure for how long you could keep up with your rejecting act—you wanted to take away all of his problems and satisfy all his fantasies that currently fogged up his mind, so when he blinked up to you with those pretty long white lashes, you gave in with a sigh. “just this once, ‘toru.”
you gently laid him down, using pillows and blankets to make a spot comfortable enough to let him fully sink into the moment. satoru, carefully picking, chose a safeword in case the moment wasn’t as dreamy as he expected it to be.
everything was fine. satoru gave you his consent multiple times to the point he thought you were planning to edge him the whole night—tears appeared in his eyes again.
the first kiss of the night was gentle, mostly just helping to distract satoru when your hand traveled all the way down in order to wrap around his graciously pretty cock. you coo at his whimpers, “i know, i know.”
satoru moaned the second you gave him a few testing pumps, looking out for any sight of discomfort or pain.
“more,” the white-haired boy whispers when he decides the stimulation of a few “testing” pumps isn’t enough, and he wants the full experience that you were willing to give him. so carefully, your wrist moved faster.
everything was spinning. getting so much movement on his poor virgin cock from something else that wasn’t his own hand when he jerked off was a different feeling—a new kind of feeling that satoru began to like more and more.
when you increased the speed to keep the pleasure going, your thumb accidentally brushed over his tip. you mentally slapped yourself, noting to be careful next time. but satoru didn’t seem to mind. not when his back arched off the bed with a loud mewl escaping his lips.
“oh, you liked that?” you cooed at him and repeated the same process of rolling your finger over his tip. satoru’s reaction was the same, just slightly more intense with the way his cock shamelessly released an impressive amount of pre-cum.
satoru kept liking all the interactions you had with his cock so far, so the level of enjoyment didn’t decrease once your hand moved faster with the help of the sparse liquid.
the rest of his shaft became wet and slippery, basically letting you just guide your fingers to the tip before letting them fall down to the base. somehow, the movements seemed to trigger something inside the sorcerer when a fucked-out giggle left his throat.
“s-so good—it’s so good!” satoru hiccups between his words, mainly babbling to himself. and truth be told, he didn’t really care if you thought his behavior was weird. fortunately for him, you weren’t one to judge, not in a moment like this, and you kept going.
your hand shifted in different ways, looking out for places that were more sensitive than others in a way satoru could not describe. the male took an immense liking to the area near his tip, or even the tip itself—you noted and kept stimulating the same spot that made his eyes roll.
“c-close!” satoru’s tone was almost shy as he spoke. the familiar burning feeling inside his stomach rose at a rapid speed. he began to squirm underneath you of the sudden pleasure that harshly flexed his tummy, “g-gonna cum!”
“mhm,” you were quick to coo at him with small kisses all over his face. but your innocent touches failed to distract satoru’s attention from your brutal strokes of his cock that were successful to send him over the edge.
“c-cumming!” satoru’s voice was high-pitched before his orgasm washed over his body for the first time of the night. when his release landed all over his tummy, you hummed a praising sound that left the sorcerer trembling. but it was not enough. satoru wanted more.
you checked up on him, making sure he was alright after such an intense orgasm that looked almost painful in a way you couldn’t describe. oh, if only you knew how much pleasure he was in—you would have kept going without a question or pause.
“are you okay, sweet boy?” your gentle voice made satoru feel like he was floating somewhere in heaven. somewhere far away from all the pain and the burden of the world he had to carry as the strongest. especially after failing to protect so many people in his life.
satoru choked on his own sob, and his face was quick to twist from extraordinary pain at the memory from earlier. you still didn’t know what was happening because if you did, suguru would have ended up with a few broken bones for hurting his best friend in such a cruel way.
but you didn’t know, not yet. so you held satoru close to your chest in an attempt to soothe his cries. you’ve already told yourself the session was over when the male shook in your arms from the mix of his orgasm and whatever happened between his and suguru.
but to your surprise, satoru didn’t take this as the end. no, he craved—“o-one more . . . please!” he whimpered against your chest with teary eyes tightly shut. he didn’t want you to see him like this. not when he was so vulnerable.
something about the way satoru kept clinging to you as if you were to disappear made your eyes soften. the sorcerer was so close to escaping the misery that you couldn’t just decline now. with a sigh, you nodded.
satoru expected another handjob—that’s why he kept his eyes shut and let you shift positions so that you could get the work done easier. but when he felt something warm lowering itself on his cock, he gasped.
“shhh,” you whisper, cradling his head back to the original position on your chest before satoru can do it himself. if he knew that knocking at your door with tears in his eyes would lead to you riding him, he would have much sooner.
the moment you were adjusted to his size, your hips began to rock themselves against his. you moved slowly, carefully dragging whimper after whimper from the boy underneath you, who was currently staring at you with blown-out eyes.
you were a goddess to satoru—you had to be. the way you gently caressed his hair, the way you prepped small kisses on his face, the way you moved slowly so that satoru could preserve every roll of your hips.
right now, he wasn’t the “god” who shifted the balance of the world due to his birth. in this situation, you were.
satoru broke down crying, but what he admired the most about you was that you didn’t stop. long ago, he told you to keep going, that he’s okay because he wants this. and you listened to him, not daring to pause your movements.
the boy whispered something, but it was faint. you weren’t able to pick up a single word he tried to say, feeling bad for not being able to respond to him—solid proof that you’re listening. but satoru was too deep into this, and thanks to his constant babbling, you were able to hear his thoughts.
“d-don’t leave . . .” satoru whispered, a bit louder than last time. it was still uncharacteristically quiet for somebody like him, but you were lucky for this position to give you better access in order to hear him.
satoru sobbed this time, fingers digging into every inch of your skin that he could reach. at this point, he was basically dragging you down with him, and you weren’t even allowed to rise yourself anymore to properly ride him.
the strongest, for the first time in his life, was terrified. he was too shaken from the events earlier, and the thought of you following the same path as suguru made him shake in terror. he couldn’t let you leave, not now.
“p-please don’t leave!” satoru wailed, “n-not you! anyone but you! i-i can’t—” his sobs continued on, and on for quite a while, and your hands ended up cupping his tear-stained red cheeks.
“i’m not leaving. you know i won’t . . .” you whisper. one of satoru’s hands flew to yours, weakly interlocking his pinky with yours.
satoru sniffed, “promise?” he could only choke out much, his throat raw from the previous breakdown—not like he cared either way, he was just too tired to try to get his voice to work normally. you nodded, “promise.”
that’s all it took to make satoru’s grip on your skin loose. he no longer held onto your shoulder with a death grip like you were to get up and leave, no. he allowed you to move after you made your promise of not leaving him.
satoru had to choke up another sob when your hand moved to catch his, bringing it up to your lips. you took your time with the kisses, making sure to leave no place untouched.
his knuckles were white from the grip he had on the sheets, or maybe even your skin earlier. you weren’t sure which one was it, since both of them were pretty brutal and made the skin over his bones look paler than usual.
when your lips moved to his palm, you noticed a fresh open cut. the wound held a shape of thin lines that looked almost way too familiar to his fingernails. you took a mental note to ask about it later—once he’s mentally ready.
you placed the last kiss on the nail on his middle finger that held an unhealthy color due to being squeezed for too long. whatever happened with him and suguru, if satoru thought about using that technique, it must have been serious.
satoru was too deep in his thoughts by the time your hips started to move again. the feeling of your slow movements made his eyes roll back to the back of his skull. he thought you being rough with him would be the best option for his brain to shut down—but once tasting the gentleness from your slow pace, satoru chose a winner.
“you’re doing so good, pretty boy. keep breathing through your nose,” you praise him, knowing it will catch his full attention before taking the opportunity to remind him to breathe properly, not wanting his sobbing mess to catch another near panic attack.
satoru blinks up at you through those long, white eyelashes that are soaked and stuck together with his tears. his blue eyes look majestic—they always do, but now, they are just so pretty and glossy from the salty liquid on his waterline.
every time your hips rose before slamming down, the tears threatened to escape. whatever it was rolling down his red cheeks or falling on his thighs, satoru struggled to keep them stay in place.
“i-i tried to stop him—” you carefully listened to his words as he did his best to speak through his heavy breathing of his incoming orgasm, “i really did! b-but he—oh god!” his words were cut where you sped up the pace.
“you did well,” you whisper, being gentle as ever when placing a soft kiss near his ear. “i don’t really know what happened between the two of you,” you admit, ignoring satoru’s high-pitched noises as he began to claw at your skin when his tummy begins to flex again.
“but i know you did a fucking good job,” you finish, and he does too. satoru screams into your shoulder that had been marked with his well-kept nails, sobbing along his release. you kept stroking his hair, feeling his cum fill you up.
the milky ring appears soon enough, and your hips finally come to a stop. satoru didn’t complain this time, letting you coo at him and whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. telling him what a “good boy” he was, and how he “took it so well”
he didn’t feel so miserable now. the memory of suguru’s back turned to him as he walked out of his life will never leave his mind. it will never not haunt him everywhere he goes—the burning feeling inside his chest will forever stay.
but somehow, he couldn’t think about it when your gentle touches were pulling him to cloud nine. the way your hand caressed his thighs while the other one dragged the wet towel to clean up the mess you two made while his head was gently placed upon your pillow gave him butterflies.
the lipgloss he always wore was dried out now, making the skin feel weird and wobbly. but satoru found the strength to tear his lips apart and say what he wanted you to know.
Summary: Satoru Gojo receives a letter, inviting him to a secluded cottage in the forest. Is it a trap by curse users or a haunting memory trying to scratch his wounds?
Or a story about how You and Satoru Gojo fucked after years.
Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, reader-insert, no Y/N, post-breakup, soft Satoru Gojo, curse user reader, no death, too much fluff and kissing, cunnilingus, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex (c’mon! we all want this), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, tear licking, emotional trauma, emotional sex, no manga spoilers.
Notes: Hey there! I wrote this because Gege Akutami left an emotional mark on me. So, you know...
You can read the "Disclaimers" at the end.
Song Recommendation: Forbidden Flames Playlist
You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.
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As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dense foliage, a mysterious man with stark white hair and a black blindfold stepped into the heart of the desolate wilderness. Satoru Gojo. The air hung heavy with the earthy scent of wet soil mingling with the musty aroma of decaying leaves, a reminder of the rainstorm that had visited the night before.
Every step he took got lost between the giggles and hisses of harmless curses hiding behind the trees with fear. The ground beneath his feet was carpeted with a mosaic of fallen leaves, their vibrant red, orange, and gold colors now muted and lifeless, as if drained of all vitality. Some of them, with still a breath to take, crunched beneath his weight, the sound of a heartrending dirge that reverberated through the desolation.
Tall, gnarled trees stood sentinel on either side, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers as if yearning to trap the unwary. Their towering forms were shrouded in darkness, their essence reduced to withered remnants. They whispered mournful laments in the wind, their voices carrying tales of forgotten sorrows.
The forest, once flourishing and thriving, now seemed like a tragic tableau frozen in time. The canopy above formed a suffocating barrier that only got disturbed by the man's ethereal presence. Wild ferns brushed against his legs, leaving behind a trace of dew upon his black trousers. The moist ground yielded beneath his every step as if reluctant to release its grip from his boots' footprints.
As he pressed further into the jungle, the darkness deepened, the path twisting and turning like a labyrinth of despair. The shadows grew longer, stretching out like grasping tendrils as if eager to ensnare his soul. The silence became oppressive, broken only by the occasional painful cry of a distant creature.
The cottage he had received its address stood as a solitary figure amidst the gloomy jungle, a crumbling monument to forgotten dreams. Its dilapidated walls whispered of lost hopes and shattered promises, its windows veiled with white curtains.
With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he watched the scene before him, a twisted smile playing upon his lips. He thought it was a perfect place, a trap waiting to spring him. But who would be foolhardy enough to challenge the strongest of all times?
But wait!
He couldn't feel any cursed energy! His six eyes were dumb. There was only one who could blind their watchful gaze.
So, when Satoru Gojo approached the house, his heart quickened after a long time, anticipation and anxiety coursing through his veins. The stage was set, the elements conspiring to test his resolve. Would he emerge from this shadowed encounter unscathed, or would the jungle claim yet another victim, lost to the depths of its sorrow-laden clutches?
Satoru's focus fixated on the doorknob, a slight gulp revealing his hesitation. Taking a deep breath, he turned and pushed open the door. The scent of something sweet enveloped his nostrils, a reminiscent embrace that momentarily distracted his senses. However, as his eyes met the sight that awaited him, an unexpected revelation struck him with a force that resurfaced long-forgotten memories.
The inside resembled an aged hideout, with wooden walls and colorful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting warm, dappled patterns on the worn tatami floor. In the center of the room, a round table took its place, adorned with a vase of delicate forget-me-not flowers. Flanking the table were two chairs. And then, in the small kitchen stood the person who had left a void in his heart.
"You're late," your voice rang out in a cheerful tone, beckoning him forward. "Come inside. It's chilly out." With your back facing the door, you stood at the counter, appearing preoccupied with unwrapping something.
Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, Satoru's thoughts fragmented like scattered puzzle pieces, their intended purpose obscured by the inner turmoil. His hand held the doorknob tightly, trapped in a state of ambiguity, unable to release its grip.
Was this a mirage? How could it be that when you seemed precisely the way he had traced the outline of your body in the air while lying in bed, unable to sleep?
Yes, of course, there were nights when the desire to run his fingers through your hair filled his dreams. It was inevitable; your scent permeated everything, even riding on the breeze. There were days fatigue misled him, mistaking weariness for the embrace, he craved, only to discover the hollowness within his very bones. Your body was no longer curled around him, no comfort, and in your absence, each day left him icy, with lips turning blue and hands yearning for the warmth of your touch. He felt adrift in a blizzard, seeking the faint flicker of a fire you had extinguished.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Satoru? Think! Is this a manipulation technique?
And then, as if compelled by an unseen power, you turned your head, causing his heart to skip a beat—countless beats. You were undeniably real.
Seeing you was akin to being hit in the knee with a bullet. Satoru's legs nearly gave way, his heart raced, and his hands turned clammy, almost causing him to collapse. He had never felt this urge to tear off his blindfold before, as your departure had happened so abruptly that he didn't have a chance to see you. Although he had committed every detail of you to memory, but this…this… witnessing it in person was an entirely different experience.
He stepped back, feeling the heaviness of the past, necessitating some distance. The harsh truths loomed, threatening to engulf him as he wrestled with the profound effect of your presence. Yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you, his mind struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation. The reality was so surreal, making it difficult for him to grasp that it was really occurring.
"Why are you just standing there?" you asked, holding a pack of his beloved Kikufuku mochis in your hands. A radiant smile graced your face, illuminating the damp room with its brightness.
He couldn't give two fucks about mochis when your face had that effect on him, always causing him to lose track of where he was, who he was, and what he might say or do. And that familiar smile, it killed him a little. His gaze remained there, lingering for too long, his concealed eyes giving away his thoughts. "Why do you have that look on your face?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity and stepping closer to him.
As you stood before him, the closeness amplified the wave of emotions within him. Joy and disbelief raced through his veins. The fragrance that surrounded you, so hauntingly acquainted, sparked a rush of nostalgia.
Satoru Gojo was born with a specific purpose, a set of perfect eyes, and the weight of his lineage on his shoulders. He was reserved and calculated. When he mastered the Limitless technique, he concluded that infinite solitude was the only way to survive. Because how he could describe the experience of seeing everything, for when you see everything, you see nothing. An excess of color turns into pure black, an infinite void.
Yes, he was born with those six eyes. People never let him forget. But to you, his eyes were simply eyes. He recalled the first time you teased him about them and how his heart caught in his chest because he had never seen someone as vibrant and colorful as you.
It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but it was something like that. The first time he saw you, he felt it. An ache. Like a little electric burn. He felt his life changed.
Gradually, his loneliness began to dissipate. He found a place for himself in this chaotic world. With you, he could laugh, cry, joke around, and even be a brat. It was something no one could genuinely grasp—the feeling of finally being alive as a person. Before you, he felt he hadn't truly existed, merely scattered atoms in an indifferent universe following a predetermined path. But you changed everything. You dismantled and rebuilt him anew. You molded him, nurtured him, and despite him being the strongest, you kept him safe.
Without a noble title or material wealth, you were everything that went against the expectations of the Clan Elders. Yet, you stood faithfully by his side, precisely where he believed you belonged. Or at least, that's what he presumed.
Then, on that fateful day, the day he desperately wished was nothing more than a dreadful nightmare, reality unfolded before him. How could it be real? He stood there, confronted by the lifeless bodies of two Higher Ups and their protectors, with you covered in their blood. It was inconceivable. He couldn't accept that you were responsible for such a gruesome scene. Yet, you showed no remorse. You firmly believed it was the only solution, fed up with their destructive actions that brought ruin upon sorcerers deemed insignificant. You had accepted the notion that a problem without a remedy should be eradicated like an unwelcome weed.
On that day, he considered shaking your shoulders and demanding that you deny it all. He even contemplated going against everyone because what was the fucking point of wielding such power if he couldn't safeguard the woman he loved? The thought of quitting and escaping with you crossed his mind, too. He was willing to sacrifice everything: power, wealth, status, even his own life. However, you didn't desire any of those things.
His friend, Suguru Geto, once posed a question: Was he Satoru Gojo because he was the strongest, or was he the strongest because he was Satoru Gojo? At that time, he had no answer. A 17-year-old couldn't possibly find a response to such a profound question. However, when you entered his life, everything changed. Being the strongest lost its significance. He was just Satoru Gojo, and he was who he was because you loved him. His existence held meaning because you touched his life. He saw because he needed to gaze upon you. He spoke because he longed to hear your voice.
And then, similar to his best friend, after causing a bloodbath, you also walked out of his life. Yet, this time, it wasn't solely loneliness that engulfed him. It felt like one of his lungs had been taken away, and he heavied without you by his side through each passing moment. He became nothing once more. There was a hole in his life where you used to fit perfectly, and no matter what he did to try and fill it, nothing worked.
It was a strange anguish, a pain he never anticipated or conceived of. It consumed him from within, setting him ablaze with a profound emptiness. Then, defying the assumption that someone as formidable as him could experience sorrow, he was burdened with the task of erasing you. It was as if you were deemed nothing more than a blemish, a dishonor.
"What... what look?" he struggled to say, his voice tinged with a desperate yearning. Regret lingered in his tone as his words fell short. With a touch of vulnerability, he shut his eyes beneath the comforting confines of his blindfold, seeking refuge in the veil of darkness. Taking a deep breath, he consciously filled his lungs, using them as an anchor amidst the swirling storm of sensations enveloping him.
"That look," you remarked, your voice carrying a mischievous tone that floated in the atmosphere. "It's as if you don't trust me," you added teasingly. A few playful strands of hair escaped their intended position and delicately framed your face, casting a bewitching allure. An irresistible urge welled within him, compelling him to extend his hand and tuck those strands behind your ear—stupid muscle memory. However, he restrained himself, his hand suspended mid-air, resolute in resisting the magnetic pull of his desires.
"Why did you invite me here?" Satoru voiced, his grip on the doorknob loosening as the impact of reality settled upon him. The initial shock transformed into a lucid understanding. He wasn't oblivious. He knew that you were aware of his assignment to eliminate you. So, why? Was it because you recognized your unstoppable nature? Was it because you had realized that the blackhole existed within you, devouring everything you once held dear unless someone intervened?
"You could have refused to come, yet here you are," you whimsically remarked, a devilish glint in your eyes as you punctuated your words with a wink. You strolled over to the weathered table and set the pocket upon its aged surface.
"Cut it out!" Satoru snapped, his frustration mounting. "You know, I had no idea it was you!" His heart thumped in his chest, urging his feet to move forward, even as his mind screamed at him to flee. A sense of unease gripped him, acknowledging the futility of engaging in a battle he felt ill-prepared to win.
You turned towards him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as your hands stayed concealed behind your back. Leaning against the chair, you arched an eyebrow, your eyes locked on him. "I have a feeling you knew it was me as soon as you arrived at the house," you declared, a jovial tone lacing your words. "After all, I'm the only one capable of concealing my cursed energy from you."
"We both know that I shouldn't be here. I—" Satoru's sentence dissolved, left unfinished, as your hand reached out, bridging the gap between you with a gentle touch. Infinity never worked with you. Even the very essence of the cursed energy recognized that you posed no threat to him. Furthermore, he would gladly provide you with any justification to touch him.
Lost in his reverie, Satoru suddenly became acutely aware of your presence. The magnitude of his longing and the depth of his yearning surged within him. In that instant, he recognized the immense emptiness you had left and how much he had missed you. Emotions swirled together, blending past and present, uncertainty and desire, in a delicate dance that would shape your fates.
"Why are you here, then?" you inquired, and his eyes met yours, reflecting the same yearning that dwelled in his heart. "Tell me, did you come in to kill me?" With a deliberate movement, you folded his fingers, molding them into the shape he would use to unleash his hollow purple. Bringing his hand close to your heart, you held it there. Despite the gravity of the situation, a soft smile adorned your lips.
He couldn't do this.
Taken aback by your unexpected gesture, Satoru swiftly withdrew his hand from your grasp. Anger and heartbreak swirled within him, entwining in a tumultuous storm. The realization hit him like a relentless wave, crashing against the shores of his consciousness. How had you drifted so far apart? When had the divergence between your paths become so profound that he failed to notice? The weight of your choice, to embrace the life of a curse user, to tread a road stained with blood, bore down upon him with a heavy burden. The pain on his face mirrored the fracture within his heart, a sense of loss mingling with a flicker of betrayal.
He wished he could say something. He wished he could start yelling, expressing all the thoughts and desires he had harbored since then—whether shouting, pouring out his heart, or expressing frustration. However, he adhered to the predetermined script you anticipated because he loved you unconditionally, unable to deny you anything.
"I didn't think so," you murmured, closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his in a way that effortlessly eroded his resistance.
You tilted his face down, your hand caught somewhere behind his neck and the base of his jaw, and you kissed him softly and slowly, heat filling his blood with dangerous speed.
One of his hands naturally found its way to the back of your waist, holding you with a gentle yet possessive grasp, while the other securely clasped your arm, pulling you closer.
He felt incredible against you, your bodies fitting perfectly. Nothing ever came easier than kissing you. Every thought and worry wicked away, replaced by the feel of his mouth against your skin, his hand claiming your body.
In that moment, his eyes, his legacy, his clan's name, and the orders given about you faded away. This was his true purpose.
As your tongues entwined, a surge of electricity coursed through his veins, his body responding to the intoxicating enchantment of your touch. Your fingers traced the outline of his blindfold while others clung to his uniform as if he were your sole fulcrum in a world spinning out of control. Your back arched, and he embraced you tighter, his grip firm yet tender, his long fingers leaving an indelible mark upon your skin.
Breathless, as if you had just completed a marathon, you reluctantly pulled back from the heated exchange. Drawing him nearer, he yielded willingly, allowing you to guide him wherever you desired because wherever you led was where he believed to be his destination.
"Take this off," you beseeched, desperation and sorrow permeating your words as your forefinger lifted his blindfold and let it fall to the floor. His tousled hair cascaded softly over his forehead, unable to hide the azure eyes that had once captivated your heart.
In his eyes, tragedy and beauty could be seen, a stoicism that wouldn't be shaken, and childlike joy that couldn't help but flow.
He swallowed, and you shifted your hand to his ear, lightly grazing his earlobe with your pinkie before tracing down his jawline. There was no rejection, yet no clear confirmation either. Your hand brushed against his undercut as you continued.
"There you are," you whispered, your voice laden with kindness. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, a solitary droplet making its way down your cheek as you gently cradled his face in your hands. He looked down at you, counting each tear on your lovely cheeks.
He clasped your hand, kissing your palm before guiding it to rest upon his heart. It was the same foolish heart, steadfastly beating for you, never having faltered. Through teary eyes, you looked at him, and he remained struck by the sheer beauty that not even your tears could diminish.
As your bottom lip quivered beneath his touch, quickly, with a light sweep of his hand, he wiped away the tears that stained your stunning eyes. You missed him too, didn't you? Was it painful for you, too? Silly girl! You couldn't maintain your carefully constructed facades for more than ten minutes when it came to him.
The realization washed over him, dispelling any remaining doubts.
Without a second thought, he effortlessly lifted you, your legs encircling his waist while your hands secured around his neck. Engrossed in a fervent kiss, both of you surrendered to the moment as he clasped your back firmly, pulling you closer to himself, relishing the flavor of your lips.
Letting go wasn't an option when every fiber of his being had missed you.
Determined and resolute, he carried you out to a room he presumed to be the bedroom, even though it didn't matter whether there was a bed or a simple mattress; what mattered was the way your touch kindled a blazing fire within him, and he had no intention of bearing that flame alone.
Keeping you securely nestled in his arms, he forcefully kicked open the door and lowered you onto the welcoming comfort of the bed. The urgency to discard his black jacket left no room for delay. At the same time, your nimble hands deftly undid the buckle of your pants, but before you could remove them entirely, his hands moved with an instinctual hunger, swiftly stripping you of the garment and casting it aside as if propelled by an untamed fervor. The passion between you burned fiercely, filling the room with an all-encompassing energy that eclipsed any other thoughts or worries.
With a quick movement, he discarded his black t-shirt, revealing the well-defined curves of his chest that shimmered with a touch of sweat. His desire was tangible, his lust unmistakable as he straddled between your parted legs, his hands grasping your nape.
The taste of his lips met yours, initiating a sequence of fervent kisses that persisted without pause, each delving deeper than the last. The world around you lost its significance as your breaths synchronized in rhythm, the heat between your bodies escalating.
In the meantime, your hands moved swiftly, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.
As his lips briefly separated from yours, he uttered a whispered confession. "I hate how bad I want you," he admitted, his voice carrying a raw sincerity. However, before you could reply, his attention shifted to your neck, where his teeth gently grazed your sensitive flesh, leaving behind tracks of tantalizing nibbles and passionate kisses.
You couldn't help but release a gasp as pleasure and a twinge of pain electrified your senses, sending delightful shivers coursing down your spine. In the throes of passion, your hand curled into a fistful of his hair, a silent request for more. Call it masochist, but he loved it when you did this. He tenderly pulled at your hair in response, tilting your head back ever so slightly, baring more of your vulnerable neck to his hungry mouth.
Then, you did what came naturally to you. With a voice brimming with longing and ecstasy, you spoke his name, "Satoru," the sound slipping from your lips like a hushed prayer.
His actions came to an abrupt pause. His lips separated from your skin, and his grasp on your hair loosened as if a sudden realization had hit him like a splash of icy water. It was ironic how you still possessed this power over him, a power that could both thrill and unsettle him.
The sound of his name on your lips had become something he treasured, and damn it, he had missed hearing it again. Just like every fucking tiny thing he had missed about you.
With a sudden movement, he withdrew his head from the crook of your neck and brought his forehead close to yours. His hands found solace in brushing back strands of your hair with comforting strokes.
He shut his eyes, and in a whisper, his voice carried a hint of fragility, a rawness that tugged at your heartstrings. "Say it again," he pleaded, his voice breaking under the pressure of unexpressed sentiments. It was as if that simple word held immense significance, a lifeline to his heart that he desperately craved.
Without hesitation, you took a steadying breath, the name forming on your lips.
"Satoru."
"S-Say it kinder."
"Satoru."
"Say it slower."
"Satoru."
"Say it gentler."
"Satoru."
"Say it louder."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you wanna tell me you miss me."
"Satoru…"
"Say it as if you're annoyed that I eat so many sweets."
"Satoru!"
"Is this why you made the trip to Sendai just to get me those mochis?"
…
"Say it."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you ever cared, spared a single thought for me."
"SATORU."
"Say it as if when you lied in bed, you remembered something I once said."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if it hurt you too when someone said my name with yours."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if every time a door opened, you too expected me to walk out of it, that every time you cooked, you hummed my favorite songs."
"S-Satoru…"
"Say it as if you need me."
"Satoru."
"Say it again."
"Satoru."
"Again."
"…Satoru."
"Say it as if you want to tell me something important."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you won't stay."
"Toru."
"No. Not like this."
"Satoru?"
"Please."
"Satoru."
"Say it as if you want me to know you're gonna run away again."
"Satoru…"
"Huh. Better. Now say it as if you wanna tell that you slept badly without me, that you only dreamed of me, and in the morning, you woke up exhausted without having any desire to live."
"Satoru."
"You don't have a line, do you? No remorse. No regret. Not even a single thought for the man you left behind like a walking ghost. And you won't ever stop."
"Satoru."
"Once you were gone, they gathered all your belongings as evidence. See this hair tie on my wrist?" He lifted his hand. "This and your sweatshirt, which no longer carries your scent, are the only things I have left. Say it as if you still have that shirt of mine."
…
"Say it!"
"Sa-to-ru."
"Did you know that I actually thought if I messed myself up, went all self-destructive, and threw a massive tantrum, you'd come back? I mean, why should I bother taking care of myself? That was supposed to be your job, right?"
"Sa…toru."
"Oh, by the way, I completely wrecked that bench on the hill where you used to sit. And then I went ahead and destroyed the whole damn place, then just sat right there amidst the wreckage. I mean, why should I even give a damn when you stopped caring about me? Say it as if you get where I'm coming from."
"Satoru…"
"Yet you know what's funny? Ask me if I still love you like the first day?"
"Satoru?"
"It can't be just me, right? You can't be done with me. Tell me you love me."
Everything he thought he knew flew right out the window. He had noticed the tremor in your breath and the shake in your voice, but the desperate murmurs of his name caused his eyes to flutter open. Your face was marked with the faint traces of tears, glistening in the light.
You blinked, revealing a spectrum of sadness and beauty unlike anything he'd seen before. The ability to convey so much with just a glance caught him entirely off guard.
Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed his lips against the curve of your cheeks, softly caressing them. Nuzzling his nose against your skin, he lovingly kissed away the salty tears, his tongue delicately brushing your face with a soothing touch. Each tender movement provided a comforting solace during your emotional moment.
As he lovingly attended to your tears, you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. He paused, eyes widening in surprise. However, before any words could escape, you leaned in and kissed him. In that single gesture, you conveyed your desires, and he, in turn, found his answer within the depths of that passionate kiss.
As soon as his palms glided over your smooth skin, delicately capturing your erect nipple between his fingers, the bra was tossed somewhere amidst the bedding.
"Lie back," Satoru instructed. He then crawled onto you, your bare chests meeting. He supported himself with his arms on either side of your head to ensure he didn't crush you under his weight.
He positioned himself atop you, overwhelmed by the yearning that had built up in your absence. The thirst to have you beneath him had grown insurmountable. He had craved the sight of your body begging him to take you, the undeniable desire radiating from you.
He locked eyes with you, keeping you in his gaze as he absorbed every aspect of your beauty. The polished planes of your face shimmered with fresh tears, adding a new layer to the bliss. Your eyes were rimmed with redness, solely for him, and this sight rendered him speechless.
Because what if he accidentally stumbled upon the wrong words, and the magic vanished, snatching you away once more, leaving him with nothing but a pumpkin carriage and a single pair of shoes?
He didn't want his arms to be deprived of your warmth. Your touch. Your lips. God, your lips. Your mouth on his neck. Your body wrapped around his. He couldn't bear losing you again, and the realization was like a pendulum the size of the moon. It wouldn't stop slamming into him.
Blinking his white lashes, he swallowed back the fear building in his throat.
What an irony!
The strongest wasn't fearless.
With his knee between your thighs and his body pressing closer, he realized he was paying attention to nothing but the dandelions blowing wishes in his lungs.
"When we were together, I became you," he stated. "You became the reflection I saw in the mirror, and I liked it more. So, I stopped being myself. It was fine because I had you. But when you left, I lost myself along with you."
"Satoru," you called, your voice soft, so soft. He wasn't unfamiliar with the touch of women, but yours were gentler, yet deadlier than them all. "I'm sorry for bringing us to this point." You drew his form closer. The resonating beats of your heart were audible, pulsing deeply within your chest. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Your words unleashed a tumult of feelings within him. Goddammit. He wasn't lost before he met you, but he found himself after having you, only to get lost more after losing you.
Satoru's tears stung as they fell backward down his throat, burning as they went. "Kiss me, and I'll forget everything," he uttered.
And you complied. You kissed him as if swimming through rivers of honey, as if being dipped in pure gold, like diving into an ocean of bliss, and he didn't realize you two were drowning because he was too caught up in the current to notice. Nothing held significance anymore—neither rules, nor the room, nor even the entire fucking Jujutsu society.
All that mattered was this.
This.
This very moment. These lips. This delicate body pressed against his, and these warm hands always discovering new ways to hold his heart.
Oh, My!
He wanted so much more of you. He wanted every part of you. And he kissed you back. Like a mild breeze. Like cherry blossoms. Like a blue spring.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Satoru drew away. It remained a secret, but piecing himself back together hurt just as much as falling apart. It felt like an ache that needed to be soothed.
You were the cure, so his finger lightly grazed the corner of your mouth, tracing its shape, curves, and subtle crevices. As he kissed the corner of your eyebrow, he whispered your name. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, causing a slight squirm in your body. He planted a kiss on your neck, just beneath your earlobe, and you tilted your head, inviting him in. Perhaps you resisted the urge to plead for more, for a faster pace.
You used to love this, remember?
His lips moved down the expanse of your neck, delicately tracing the sensitive skin of your collarbones. Not content to be passive, your hands ran down his back, roaming over his broad shoulders, pressing into his back dimples, and clutching his hips. With a handful of his hair, you pulled him closer, leaving small kisses on his neck, arms, and chest.
It was incredible. Being with you, touching you, having you like this. The adrenaline rush was so powerful and euphoric that it made everything feel within reach.
He muttered your name, his lips mouthing the letters, barely speaking.
He pressed his lips against your upper lip.
He ran his tongue along your lower lip.
He planted kisses beneath your chin, on the tip of your nose, along your forehead, temples, and cheeks across your jawline. Then he moved to your neck, behind your ears, and the space between your breasts. Delicately, he nibbled on your sensitive nipples, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your belly button until his entire form moved down your figure, disappearing as he shifted downward, and suddenly, his chest was hovering above your hips.
As his lips descended towards the hem of your underwear, he lifted his head right before crossing that boundary, locking eyes with you. His gaze carried a mix of intense reverence and a silent question.
You met his gaze, the unspoken understanding passing between you. Your nod conveyed an affirmation, a wordless permission to continue. With your approval, he lowered his head once again. Before you knew it, he skillfully used his teeth to remove that small piece of fabric while the captivating scent drove him wild with desire.
Having removed your panties, his lips continued exploring, leaving heated kisses and lingering caresses from your toes to your thighs. Firmly holding your calves, he parted your legs, creating just enough space for his head to fit between them.
Your thighs were lifted, obscuring him from your sight. All you could see was the top of his head, the curve of his shoulders, and the unsteady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Eventually, even that view vanished as his lips closed around your clit, causing your head to fall back and muffled moans to escape your lips.
Satoru's large hands trailed down and up your exposed upper thighs and ribs, tightly gripping your hips to keep you in place. He delighted in how you squirmed each time his hair brushed against your groin, until his tongue slipped into your hole, and the taste of you made fireworks explode in the back of his head.
With his right hand pressed against your stomach, his tongue danced and teased, evoking ecstatic cries from your lips. His mouth explored the known territories you had never witnessed, yet he remembered them intimately.
While fully engrossed in eating you, he suddenly and intentionally slipped his middle finger inside, and his mouth fervently sought to suck the soul out of your essence as if seeking retribution for all the times he had jerked off thinking about you creaming around his shaft. That's why he left you on the precipice of climax, working his way up your body. Satoru was never cruel enough to deny you the release you craved, so his fingers remained ready.
With an eagerness to witness the pleasure etched across your face, he slowly ascended your body, his touch kindling a burning anticipation within you. Continuing his exploration, his adept fingers navigated their way to your most intimate region, gently pressing against the delicate entrance.
"Let me know if it hurts, alright?" he whispered, his nose caressing the skin of your stomach, placing sporadic kisses around your breasts and collarbones to alleviate any tension. His disheveled hair and moist lips were evidence of the indulgence in your sweet taste.
"Take it easy— ahhh!"
He wore a satisfied smile as two of his large fingers effortlessly slid into your slit. Your nails dug into the sheets, whimpers escaping your lips as his hand rhythmically moved up and down within your tight walls.
Your mouth opened in a soundless moan, and he peppered you with kisses all around. Tears glistened in your eyes, and tiny strands of hair clung to your sweaty forehead. When his thumb rubbed, and the fingers hit all the right spots, your throat wailed in frustration.
You firmly grasped his free arm and tugged him towards you, bringing him closer until he was on top of you. You might have turned into a cold-blooded curse user, left dead bodies behind, or broken his heart apart, but you were still the same girl beneath him. The girl who would laugh with joy and steal his treats. The girl who would fiercely fight by his side and protect him. The girl who would easily surrender and moan in his ear.
He pressed his lips against yours, a reminder of the residual sweetness on his tongue. Just like in the old days, a soft moan escaped your lips as soon as you felt your own taste. If this gesture could convince you to stay with him, why not revel in it? He willingly opened his lips, inviting you to delve deeper, your tongues intertwining and brushing against his teeth.
The stinging bitterness of the past was long gone. He had forgotten everything. Although there was something he knew he shouldn't forget, he couldn't recall why or what it was. With his hard length suffering in his boxers and his digits thrusting backward and forward, paying attention to anything else was hard.
Seeing your desperation for his touch proved to be his downfall. He could die from this, he decided. From wanting you, from the pleasure of being with you.
He wore a smile as you locked eyes and reciprocated with your smile. He pressed his forehead against yours, his skin flushed with heat. With his other hand, he held your head steady while your hands clutched his neck, your palms gliding over the area just above his neckline, and your fingertips tenaciously pressing against his undercut.
"Sato..." you managed to utter, your voice quivering with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you, consuming your senses. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body, inducing uncontrollable tremors. Amidst your release, a single tear broke free, tracing a glistening path down your cheek, much like the cascade of emotions that flowed within you.
While he remained atop you, his voice reached your ears, his lips near your earlobe. "Can you sit up?" he whispered, burying his face in the curve of your neck, allowing your ragged breaths to brush against his shoulder.
Still struggling to catch your breath, you managed to mumble, "Yeah, but..." However, before you could complete your sentence, the bedding beneath you shifted as Satoru pulled you into his arms, clutching you tight.
He exhaled and looked at you, but this time, there were stories in his eyes, thoughts, whispers, and feelings of things he had never told you. He looked like he was hanging on his sanity by a fraying thread—you.
He touched your flushed cheeks as if uncertain of your tangible presence. His four fingers caressed the side of your face with tenderness before sliding behind your neck, caught in that in-between spot below your ear, and his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, then grazing your bottom lip.
He pondered the countless things your lips had done. They had touched, kissed, and pressed against sensitive areas of his skin. They had spoken lies and made promises, and the words they had formed, the shapes and sounds they had shaped, he yearned for them all.
Satoru inched closer, cradling you like you were made of precious crystals. Holding you and looking at his own hands as if he couldn't believe you were real and truly there.
"I'm right here, baby. Look at me," you whispered, grasping his hands and kissing them.
All six of his eyes obeyed and stared at you. Gone was the curse user targeting Higher Ups. This woman before him had never done anything wrong. You were perfect and kind, untouched by the horrors of death.
He took hold of your hands and pressed your palms against his face, reclaiming the tears you had bestowed upon him. With an eternity of love, he whispered your name in the softest of whispers.
He shook, shuddered, splintered into teardrops, and you embraced him like no one had before. Overwhelmed by the intensity, he struggled to contain himself, but seeing you cling to him as you might never let go stirred something within him. It was a heady sensation, knowing that you were there, caring for him, desiring him, needing him in this way. It made him believe that this was indeed real.
Gently, you stroked his silvery locks of hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. Gradually, your arms became the arms around his neck; your lips became the lips pressed against his, your body the warmth he felt. Funny how the moment he felt your touch, it burned a hole right through his head and pulled all his thoughts out.
He wasn't even breathing, but he was alive, and he was kissing you. Deeply, desperately. His hands fervently caressed the small of your back as he lifted you onto his lap, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his hips.
Then, it was your turn to reciprocate. You planted kisses all over him—his cheeks, eyelids, chin, the tip of his nose, and the space between his eyebrows. You trailed along his forehead and traced his jawline, covering every inch of his face. These kisses conveyed more than words ever could.
And you took your time.
As your mouth moved down his neck, he let out a gasp. It was a moment to relish. Your tongue continued to worship the hills and valleys of his well-defined arms, tracing the graceful curves of his collarbones. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of his skin, you savored his taste. Your hands explored his abs, tracing along his navel and the delicate trails of hair beneath.
He broke apart with your small licks here and there, breathing hard, and stared at you dumbfounded. His mind remained hazy, unable to fully comprehend how your fingers toyed with the waistband of his boxer briefs.
Tilting your head to a side, you pressed your lips against his again, seeking him with a burning need, a new kind of desperation. Your other hand threaded in his hair, your lips so soft, so urgent against his, like fire and cinnamon exploding in his mouth.
Satoru nibbled your bottom lip in a flash before pulling back slightly. You were flooding his body with so much heat and desire. You parted your lips to sigh in his mouth, and that slight sound of pleasure drove him to the edge of madness.
Just as he was about to bring his mouth to your nipples, your hand suddenly slipped into his underwear and encircled his erectness pressing against your groin.
Oh.
Well.
He clenched his teeth, suppressing a groan. Oh God! He had fucking missed you holding his member in your palm. But you didn't stop at that. He gasped as you began to rub the tip with your thumb. His body ached everywhere as he tasted the colors and sounds that existed nowhere else. Your forehead rested against his chin as you continued to stroke his hardness up and down beneath his boxers. You were untamed, cruel, yet remarkably gentle.
"Take it off, Satoru," you whispered in his ear, your breath ragged. "I want you in me. Deep. Right. Now. Please."
He was beyond the reach of rational thoughts. Beyond words, beyond comprehension. The world was beyond understanding because nothing could ever compare with this. Nothing could ever capture the way he was feeling right now. He was left with only this very moment: You on his lap, your warmth against his hands, and your lustful eyes fixed upon him, making him absolutely insane.
Satoru held onto your waist with a firm grip, lifting you slightly, and in the blink of an eye, his briefs glided down his long legs until their whereabouts became irrelevant in the heat of the moment.
The wetness between your thighs was no longer a hidden secret, just as his hardness was revealed when you surrounded each other everywhere.
He watched as you reached down and guided his erection against your slippery entrance, making a few strokes to ensure the perfect alignment. His racing pulse could probably be felt in your palm and soon inside you.
Using both hands, he gripped your hips and pulled you downward, drawing you closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you, always surprised about his size. He intended to allow you time to adjust, but you fervently clung to his neck, hitching your legs around his waist, urging him to penetrate you completely. A scream escaped your lips as you bit into his shoulder blade, but he remained composed, relishing the sensation of stretching you. He cherished the feeling of your inner walls squeezing him and the weight of your body against his balls. To be honest, he would stay like this forever.
Feeling your readiness, his hold tightened, and he started moving your body up and down. You cried out as you nestled your cheek into the curve of his neck, and he felt like dying and somehow being brought back to life in the exact moment, in the same breath.
Fuck! You were full of him.
He raised your thighs, stifling a groan that threatened to rip his throat as your lips met his. It left him bewildered, pondering why he hadn't perished, burst into flames, or snapped in half.
The room was consumed by silence, punctuated only by the sound of your heavy breaths. Your chests pressed against each other, colliding with the rhythm of your pulses.
As he sensed your arms tightening around him, he reciprocated with heightened strength, lifting and thrusting you with an intensity that transcended the bounds of restraint. Each movement struck the place he knew too well.
His teeth captured your bottom lip, eliciting a momentary jolt of pleasure. Your nails pressed into his shoulder as his fingers ran through your hair, pulling you nearer, immersing you in the fervent abyss of his mouth. The taste of you was a captivating fusion of sweetness and passion, an intoxicating blend that left both of you craving for more.
He kept trying to say your name, but he found himself unable even to catch his breath, let alone speak a single word.
The pace increased slightly; each thrust was hard, deliberate, wringing gasps, whimpers, and long, rolling moans from you.
Your eyes tingled with tears, falling fast down and traveling quietly down your cheeks. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs two parentheses in your mouth, touching your tongue and the saliva within. It was as if he had discovered an oasis in the vast expanse of a desert, gazing at you with eyes ablaze like fire reflected in water.
"I love you," he whispered over and over, his voice fragile and uneven. His lips covered yours in a tender kiss. He kissed you and tasted your tears, the lasting essence of pleasure in your mouth. He kissed you and kissed you until time toppled over, and your heads spun into a blissful oblivion.
Your head rested against his, and as you delicately nipped at his earlobe, he felt stripped down to his very core, just as he had unraveled you from within. Your sweet little tongue was frantic when you whispered, "I'm yours to love."
Something inside him melted. Hearing your words, he held still for moments, sucking in the air because he felt almost dizzy with satisfaction, running his hands over your thighs.
You. You belonged to him. You didn't erase the pain you had caused. You didn't fix everything you'd broken, but that wasn't what he needed anyway. All he needed was you, and with you, everything would be alright.
He firmly grasped your buttocks, burying his face against your shoulder as he sped up. He was shattered to pieces, but with you, he got put back together differently, better, and more himself than he ever could have been. Gritting his teeth, he succumbed to the impending climax. His hands glided along your back as you shuddered, your inner walls pulsating around him so hard that he couldn't hold back his release. With a growl, he thrust wildly, once, twice, until everything around you both turned to a world of vibrant colors and radiant light, where the sun shone, oceans sparkled, and Sakura trees bloomed.
*
Both of you were lying on a pillow, breathless and sweaty. Satoru's face was buried in the crook of your neck.
Your hand had delicately weaved its way into his hair, fingers stroking the silky strands as you both sought to ground yourself in the aftermath of your orgasms.
You rested your cheek against his head, your voice carrying a hint of breathlessness as you began to speak. "How is Shoko doing?
"She's probably smoking even more now," he murmured, his lips grazing against your shoulder as he pulled you closer. Despite the physical closeness, a deep ache echoed within him, yearning for an even deeper connection that felt just beyond his grasp. The desire to merge both body and soul, to be completely intertwined with you, was tangible in his touch.
His arms tightened around you as if attempting to bridge an unseen gap that couldn't be seen, but he could feel it. Each hug and touch was an attempt to mend the distance that pained him. The depth of his need reverberated through his being. It was visible in the depths of his eyes. It sucked to be this close yet feel so far from someone. But he didn't want to worry. As long as you were together, he believed nothing terrible could happen.
"Why probably so?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as you turned your head towards him. Your lips touched his soft, silky white hair. "Is it because of the numerous missions you're taking?"
"You seem to know every detail of my life," he remarked, turning his head towards you, the closeness so intimate that your noses nearly touched. His hand found its way to your arm, his finger tracing a path down its length, lost in contemplation.
"I've always kept tabs on you. I'm not even ashamed of it," you declared, your attention fixed on his ocean-blue eyes.
He let out a shaky sigh. "There's no longer a reason for me to stay in Tokyo like I used to," he whispered, his voice hinting at wistfulness. The words floated in the air, pregnant with unspoken meanings. As he locked eyes with you, his gaze transformed into a sea of emotions, reflecting a profound depth of feelings that transcended mere words.
"What about your students?"
"They're doing well even without me," Satoru said, his voice filled with fondness and melancholy. As his hand gracefully slid into your hair, he tucked back the strands that obscured your face, revealing the beauty of your features.
His thumb stroked your cheek in a soothing gesture. "Megumi came close to expanding his domain," Satoru continued, his voice filled with a hint of excitement. "Yuji would be thrilled to—"
"No, Satoru!" you interjected, your voice resolute. Your firm interruption halted his sentence as your face displayed a frown, your eyebrows furrowing with determination. "The answer is no!"
Satoru's hand dropped weakly onto the sheets, his fingers losing their previous touch. When his gaze met yours, a deep sadness flooded his eyes, turning the serene ocean within them into a turbulent storm.
He struggled to find the right words to make his case but couldn't resist trying to reason with you. "Come back with me. I have enough power and privilege to protect you—"
"I don't want your protection!" you exclaimed, your voice carrying a sharp edge that cut through his being. The words resounded with a harshness reminiscent of the day you decided to leave, which had left an indelible mark on both of you. It was a day that Satoru had always blamed himself for, haunted by the belief that he had failed to notice you drifting away.
His eyes, filled with sorrow, locked onto yours, silently begging for understanding as he summoned the bravery to express his deepest desires. "Don't you want a life with me?" he questioned, his voice brimming with the dreams and aspirations he had envisioned for both of you. "What about living in a house with blue shutters, windows overlooking the ocean, and—"
"How are you still such a wide-eyed, dreamy little boy, Satoru?" you remarked, your voice tinged with tenderness and sadness. As you spoke, your hand extended, interlocking your fingers with his. "Stop living in a fantasy world," you urged. The words pleaded for him to accept reality and let go of dreams no longer aligned with his chosen path. "Even if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't want to," you continued. "The Jujutsu society is a broken bone that won't set right, and no matter how much you try to mend it, it won't work. I started hunting Higher Ups because I have a purpose. I can't be by your side."
As you raised your head, a glimmer of compassion and understanding shimmered in your eyes. The pain etched on Satoru's face was evident to you. In a gentle tone, you encouraged him, saying, "We've made different choices. Don't judge me because I never questioned why you didn't follow me. Our approaches may differ, but we share the same dream of creating a better world. So, I don't regret leaving, but if there's anything I regret, it's not cherishing every moment I had with you. But I'm doing it right this time. I'm memorizing every detail, so I have something to hold onto."
Your words bounced around in the fog of his head, blurring his senses, misting his eyes, and muddling his logic. In his bones, there was just ice. His entire being wanted to vomit. Reality slapped him in the face, punched him in the jaw, and dumped him into the ocean.
Until today, he thought he had fully come to terms with everything. He believed he had adapted to living with your absence, like a disabled person learning to avoid putting weight on his injured leg. However, deep down, he knew he was living on eggshells, always wondering when something would break, when everything would crumble.
But with your answer, stacks of sorrow grew inside him, settling on his bones as if a cable had twisted around his neck, a worm crawling across his stomach. It was the night, midnight, and the twilight of indecision. Too many pains to bear.
He realized how foolish he had been to believe he could simply blend in and lead an ordinary life.
Satoru.
Satoru Gojo.
Satoru Gojo, The Strongest.
The mere thought of it filled him with mortification.
He shook his head, coughing as his lungs were tormented, heaving strange, horrible gasps until his whole body spasmed into submission. His head was spinning, thoughts knocking into one another. With clenched fists, he fought against the misery, forcing it back down. Not again. Not again. Not again.
"Satoru?" you called out to him, and a thousand pieces of feeling stabbed you in the heart. Realizing how deeply he loved you kept hitting him in the face, the skull, and the spine. He ran a hand across his face and through his hair, displaying signs of wanting to scream, to break something, as if he was on the verge of losing his sanity.
You hugged him, bridging the gap between your bodies and leaning your cheek against his rock-hard chest. Your hands caressed his stomach as your lips left random pecks here and there.
"It's not just your shirt that I have," you expressed. "I also have our shared blanket from our room and a collection of photographs I'm too afraid to look at. I fear that if I see them, I'll go right back to you and beg your forgiveness."
You dropped a kiss on his chin. Then, on the curve of his shoulder and his shoulder blades. Five kisses down his throat, each softer than the last. You kissed his cheeks, hands, and eyelids for every moment of loneliness he had ever endured.
You continued, "My body hasn't realized we are no longer together. It calls out for you at night, unaccustomed to not having you tightly enveloping me like a second layer of skin."
He closed his eyes and breathed heavily, trying to gain control of himself. "Why are you putting me through this?" he asked, his hand caught in his hair. "Why are you scratching my wounds?"
"Because I want to remake you again, Satoru. You should get broken apart and rebuild in a way that won't cause you pain anymore." You kissed the hand covering his mouth, not holding back. Keeping your head there, you leaned against his heart.
"It's not as straightforward as a simple yes or no," you said, your voice cracking as you spoke. "Let's just enjoy this moment together..."
A sudden searing heat flashed behind his eyes, and his heart leaped at your response. His hand trembled, and his eyes were willing and wanting but filled with sadness.
He shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes open, jaw clenched tightly, and muscles tense. Breathing heavily, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. The ache in his chest had grown more assertive, more painful.
You lifted your head and reached up to stroke his cheek. "Love is the most twisted curse," you murmured as you tilted his chin toward your mouth. He blinked rapidly. Words were whispered upon his lips that no one had ever spelled out for him. "And we are the most cursed of all, aren't we?" you told him, watching the movement in his throat and his effort to keep it together. It didn't take you long to kiss him again. Tenderly.
Unable to find the right words, he relied on the language of touch, pressing his lips against yours. A sigh escaped into your shared kiss, and you responded by kissing him even more passionately, almost desperately, as if trying to pass over your breaths to him. The taste of salt lingered on your tongues. The wet drops falling on your cheeks made his flesh burn. Unsure of whose tears they were, he continued to cling to you, even if it was almost for the final time.
The saddest world in this whole wide world was "almost." You almost came back to him. He almost had you. You two almost made it.
*
You woke up with a smile, feeling a pleasant warmth enveloping your skin, remnants of the memories from the previous night. The room was filled with a fresh ambiance, hinted at by the open window that welcomed a gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth filled the air, evidence of the rain that had visited during the night.
Letting out a sigh, you brushed your face against the pillow. Your hand instinctively reached out to where Satoru was supposed to be, but a pang of emptiness washed over you. He wasn't there, and your eyes flew open, a sourness clouding their once-serene gaze. Something felt wrong.
Suddenly, sitting up, a sense of panic pulsed through your veins. The realization dawned upon you—Satoru had left the bed, and his absence spoke volumes. Your glance darted around the room, searching for any signs of his presence, but his clothes were nowhere to be seen.
An agonizing grip took hold of your heart. Conflicting emotions wrestled inside you. You had voiced your decision to part ways, to not be by his side, yet the depth of your desire for him remained steadfast. The pain and the desperate desire for his warmth was a stark reminder that not wanting to be with him didn't mean you were prepared to let go of him completely.
The bitter yet undeniable truth surfaced: as much as you and Satoru were meant to be, fate had not deemed you to last.
You could still feel the lasting presence of Satoru's cursed energy, an invisible thread you could identify even blind. Simply by scent, you would recognize it. It was a power that transcends physical senses, one that would recognize it in death, at the end of the world.
You swiftly snatched your robe and hastened out of the room. And there he was, Satoru, fully dressed, his blindfold tightly secured, sitting still in a chair, facing the untouched mochis. The hair tie was also on the table, indicating that he had removed it from his wrist. You couldn't determine whether it hurt you deeply to see him letting go of a part of you or noticing that he had left his beloved treats untouched.
He wasn't looking at you, so you had time to observe things you hadn't noticed yesterday. He had visibly lost weight. His hair showed signs of splitting and thinning, probably due to stress. Nightmares didn't let him sleep. His uniform appeared wrinkled, and his breaths were unsteady. You knew it wasn't your place to worry about him anymore, but you couldn't help it. Taking care of him had become a habit. He appeared weary, displaying the same profound exhaustion you experienced, filling you with fear.
His shoulders quivered up and down, and you could tell he was crying even though he was silent as a corpse. Your heart quickened as you approached him. With trembling hands, you reached for his blindfold, a desperate attempt because, goddammit, you fucking loved his eyes.
"What are you—" you started to inquire, your voice fading as you recognized that your touch couldn't reach him. He had activated his Infinity. Manually. Deliberately. A wave of profound sadness washed over you, tears welling up in your eyes, yet you swallowed them back, resolved to keep your composure. Your hand hung suspended, mere inches away from him, a symbol of the unbridgeable gap that had grown between you.
Then, in a sudden movement, Satoru stood before you, donning a black jacket that draped his figure. His voice emerged raspy, filled with a raw intensity that conveyed the turmoil within his heart.
"I can't handle this anymore. I can't continue being whatever I am to you," he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of resignation. The understanding that the current situation was no longer viable had taken hold of him. "If you want things to remain this way, I can't ignore the fact that we are enemies at the end of the day." He subtly avoided meeting your gaze, averting his eyes from your messy hair and the persistent sadness in your eyes.
"Can you honestly believe that?" you questioned, your voice brimming with incredulity. You took a step forward, narrowing the physical gap between you. It was essential for him to grasp the magnitude of your anguish and directly witness the toll your choice inflicted upon your heart.
Satoru took a step back, his brows furrowing beneath the blindfold that veiled his eyes. "It doesn't matter what I believe," he declared.
Despite the barrier that prevented physical touch, you closed your eyes, driven by the overwhelming desire to bridge the divide. Ignoring the protective shield of his Infinity, you leaned in, your lips seeking his in a desperate act of defiance. Tears streamed down your closed eyes as he relinquished the barrier that kept you apart. You pressed your lush mouth against his. It never took him long to respond, to part his lips. He kissed you back, holding your head steady with his hand while his other embraced you tightly. He had your heart, and you loved him quite horribly, too. This fact always smacked you over the head so hard you felt dizzy.
You held each other tightly, his arms enveloping you as his fingers intertwined with your hair. In that stolen moment, you caught a glimpse of the life you longed for—a life filled with love. Having this every day was within reach, but the harsh reality of the jujutsu world loomed, casting a shadow over your fragile dreams. The awareness that he would be exploited until his final breath burdened you deeply. Unable to witness his suffering, you knew you couldn't change your decisions. You had to reset this Jujutsu World. For him. For his students. For the happiness you owed yourself.
As your lips reluctantly separated, a bittersweet trace of saliva remained between you. Satoru gripped your shoulders, and as you glanced up, you noticed his blindfold was damp, indicating the tears he had shed.
You lowered your head. "I wish you had never crossed paths with me," you murmured, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground until he reached out and lifted your chin.
"I wouldn't take that chance. Not in a million infinities. Because there was love, even if it didn't change anything, even if it made the pain worse, love was there," he said, staring at your mouth. "I'll love you in this life. I'll love you in death and in whatever lies after. And likely even beyond that," he whispered. The words did something to you. They burned something inside of you. You swallowed hard. A fire consumed your mind. "No matter what, I'll always love you," he declared, and pain filled your veins. You could feel it in your blood.
"Satoru," you whispered. Your eyes fogged up, but you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears away. You couldn't let a second of this be blurry. You couldn't afford to allow any of this to slip away. His absence felt like a missing limb, and his longing for you was a bullet in the head. How could he still love you? How could he find relief in your touch?
"But if we meet again," he said, his thumb brushing against your earlobe. "Just kill me. Because I'll be forced to kill you, and it's the same thing." As if the longer he held you, the more he would want you, he let go of you.
The enormity of his duty and the unyielding constraints of the jujutsu world, forcing him to make an unbearable choice, hit you like a cold gust of wind, leaving you feeling isolated and abandoned. The chill of that moment seeped into your bones, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had felt this same frigid loneliness when you had left him behind.
Satoru walked towards the door, each step carrying the finality of his decision that settled upon the room. Pausing at the threshold, a silent plea lingered in his words. "So, please, I beg you to stay away from me." With those words, he severed the last thread that had linked you, leaving you with a deep sense of loss.
The door closed behind him, leaving you in an empty and heavy space with unspoken regret. You were alone again, bereft without him, half dead without him. You opened your mouth and screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately so that you could escape this feeling.
No one ever warned you how men with such pretty eyes, who smelled like vanilla, tasted like rain, and talked like silver, were the reason behind tear-soaked pillows, half-finished poems, and so many sad dreams.
One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.
It seemed like Satoru Gojo's story had peaked, and anything that followed wouldn't hold the same significance to him. Because for him, there was before you, and there was during you. For some reason, he never thought there would be an after you. But there was, and he was in it. He would be in it forever.
Moving forward, he silently implored his bones to remain firm, to support him for the remainder of the day and beyond. He ventured through the forest, his steps disturbing the mud and leaves as his footprints gradually faded away until there was nothing but the empty silence of a long, lonely dusk.
Tag list: @istanuwow @anime-lover1234 @rentaldarling @enchantedforest-network
Disclaimers:
This creation draws significant inspiration from the incredible artistry of @animaybi (TikTok) and features quotes from the captivating writings of @starlightonthewaves (TikTok). Both of these talented artists deserve immense praise for their remarkable contributions.