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bnpd · 14 days

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❝ Off-Limits ❞

"There's been a big mistake."

Your dad gets hired as the new men's basketball coach at a top university back home, while you're a transfer student. But what happens when the summer fling you had last summer happens to be the captain of his basketball team, Gojo Satoru. Everyone knows the coach's daughter is off-limits.

College Basketball Player! Gojo x Coach's Daughter! Reader

sorry guys i'm too obsessed with basketball player gojo, so enjoy another AU of basketball gojo.

SMUT under the cut.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined in your ear as his hands rested beside yours against the mirror in the snug bathroom.

He ground his clothed erection against your semi-lifted skirt from behind. The force of his grinds, pushing you tightly against the bathroom mirror and you’re pushing back against him just as eagerly.

The mysterious stranger sensually glides one of his hands from your hips to your throat, securing you in place as the other rubs your clothed clit. The cool touch of his fingers leaves goosebumps behind, but you want them hot between your thighs instead.

In a dimly lit bathroom of a crowded house party, your moan is faintly heard between the heavy bass music thumping through the walls. The small bathroom feels hot, as the both of you share bated breaths, breathing each other in.

At a specific roll of his fingers on your clit your head rolls back against his shoulder, “Yes,” you beg breathlessly, “Yeah? You like that?” He mocked, “I’ve only just rubbed you through your panties,” he teased with a click of his tongue, “Needy girl.”

You whine when his fingers leave you cold, and deprived. The faint rattle of his belt unbuckling quickly has you perking up at the sound.

There’s something about the adrenaline of messing around with a stranger at a party, a sexy one at that. Your hometown friends had invited you to an ‘end-of-summer’. You had been dancing and drinking with your friends when he approached you.

His captivating blue eyes were the first thing you noticed about him, and you’re sure the other women did too. But for tonight, he only had eyes for you. And that was enough. It’s not like you’d ever see him again anyway. This was simply for fun.

You jolt when he yanks your panties down, and clench when he slaps the tip against your ass, leaving behind small remnants of his pre-cum. You can’t help the cry that leaves your lips when he rams into your dripping cunt. And he can’t help the way his swollen cock, hardens even more at your meek mewls.

His hand leaves your throat to slide under your shirt to cope the feel of your tit. “Knew this pussy would be nice for me,” both groaning in unison at a particularly hard thrust.

You press yourself back in an attempt to mold yourself together with him, wanting—no—needing, to be under his skin.

He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, licking a stripe from your neck to the back of your ear before pecking the shell of it, “Satoru,” he says, “My name,” he clarifies shortly after.

“Say it,” he commands you, snapping his hips forward and into your cunt. You clench around him, “ ‘Toru,” you cry out.

He groans, lacing your fingers together against the mirror. Your eyes are lidded, but you can see how he stares at you through the mirror. His mouth is slightly open, eyes furrowed in a needy manner, but the way his eyes are lazy yet enticing does it for you. His stare is dark.

He pulls out quickly to manhandle you onto the counter, spreading your legs open before slamming his lips against yours. His tongue forces its way inside your mouth, dragging itself against yours. Passionately stealing your breath away.

His lips remain attached to yours while he hurriedly slips his jacket off, throwing it somewhere on the floor. You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but Satoru has always been an eager man. He pecks your neck again, looking for a weak spot. When he hears a throaty moan he knows he’s found it.

He continues to mouth at the particular spot while you bury your hands in his hair, bringing him close.

You impatiently kick the rest of your panties off. Your hands grip his hair tighter, and he groans at the pull. He pulls away from your neck to look up at you. And you’ve never found anything more sensual.

His lips are wet and swollen from suckling on your neck. His hair is messy from how much you’ve tugged at it. His eyes stare up at you through his white wispy lashes.

It’s the submissive look on his face, but his possessive hold on you that makes you want him in more ways than sex.

You need him now.

“Need it,” you beg, grinding your wet slit on his erection. He hisses at the contact as he watches you with a hooded gaze. You bring your index and middle finger into your mouth to swipe your tongue before dragging them down to your cunt, spreading it open before him. Urging him inside.

Satoru keens at how compliant you’re being. So fucked out on the counter. Your skirt bunched up to your waist, breathing ragged, panties dangling off your ankle, and tank top slipping off your shoulders.

“Please,” you beg once more but before you can beg again, he’s gripping your thighs to keep them open, and positions himself between your folds. You watch in anticipation as he spits on his cock and you both watch as it drips down your cunt.

He slams into you before you can blink. His pace is brutal and fast.

You’re delirious on the counter, as you tightly wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer. You nuzzle his head in your neck and tightly cling to him while he pounds into you. Every thrust is rewarded by a moan louder than the last.

Satoru slips his hands under your shirt once again, palming both of your tits, “Fuck, never had a pussy this good,” he grunts when your fingernails dig into his back, leaving behind crescent moon-like marks.

You’re unable to even think as you feel the best you’ve felt in a long time. It feels like you’re floating. Your mind has gone completely blank of thoughts except for the chase of your orgasm.

By the way, it’s a building, you’re sure it’ll be a strong one. Your toes curl when Satoru’s cock changes angles, and you’re ascending faster than before. “Right there,” you urge him. Your back arches when you feel your orgasm approach, and Satoru groans against your neck as your cunt clenches around him.

“ ‘m close, Toru,” you whimper when his thumb comes to rub tight circles on your clit. “I know. Me too, baby,” his moans increase in volume.

It's messy, desperate, and nasty.

“Can’t get enough,” he confesses with a broken moan, “You take me so well, ‘s so warm inside your tight pussy.”

Your body completely tenses so hard your leg slightly cramps when you cum, and your mouth drops open in a soundless moan. Satoru’s eyebrows furrow as he pushes harder against your tightly clenched cunt. You ride out your orgasm, and before you know it a mini-orgasm comes shortly after.

You pull his lips in for a heated kiss, and Satoru hugs you closer to him.

He’s desperate to reach his orgasm, and before you know it he whimpers one last time before pushing himself impossibly deeper, shooting his cum deep inside you. You’re both panting against one another’s mouths.

He stares into your eyes before kissing you again. This time it’s slow and earnest, but just as desperate.

He pulls away one last time to peck the side of your face, smoothing down strands of your hair.

The rest of the night was amazing. After Satoru cleaned you up and urged you to put on his jacket, he’d gone to fetch you some water. Then invited you for a late-night walk on the beach. He had set his jacket down on the floor somewhere near your stuff and urged you to take your shoes off so you could walk in the water.

The beach had been dark, yet beautiful as the moon provided dull silver lightning. The wind moved the palm trees in a dancing trance, as the waves crashed against the shore. Every once in a while Satoru would gently kick some water at your feet and you’d gently gasp at the coolness.

There was just Satoru, and you. The moment was perfect.

His hand grips your hip as you lose your balance on the powdered sand, tugging at you from behind as you crash into his chest.

“Trying to run away hm?” He teases from behind, you want to giggle at his cuteness. You decide to toy with him for a bit, “Yes. Can you catch me?” You turn to face him, walking backward as you smile playfully at him.

He raises an eyebrow at your admission, but you turn around and run away from him before he can blink.

You speed off giggling, and the adrenaline of the chase as you breathe erratically when you hear him gaining on you.

If Satoru wanted to, he would’ve caught you the second you took the step forward to run, but you liked the chase, and he liked the chasing.

He smiles as he hears your tiny chuckles of amusement.

You feel him hot against your back, and you squeal into the night when his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you into the air.

“Gotcha,” he boosts. You’re laughing in delight while he’s admiring your beauty with a dopey smile on his face.

He briefly places you on the ground, and you turn to jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. His hands are on the back of your thighs, caressing you.

You stare into each other’s eyes. He’s looking at you so earnestly, you think you might be sick.

“Kiss me,” his deep voice murmured into your mouth, “until I’m sick of it.” Your eyes connected with his, and his eyes seem as mesmerized with you as yours are with his.

You press your lips against him and he tightens his hold on you. He puts you down on your feet to completely undress himself, before pulling you again towards the water.

“What if someone sees us?” You hesitate, “My dad owns this side of the beach, no one will.” He smiles at you, and you almost choke at how easily he admits that. You wonder what his dad does for a living, and what he does.

He walks into the water, waist-deep, and extends an inviting hand.

You pull the rest of your clothes off, unintentionally giving him a strip tease. Satoru’s dick hardens as he watches you bend over to pull your skirt, and panties off. He almost groans when your bent-over figure gives him the slight outline of your cunt from behind.

Your nipples harden as the cool air hits your naked form, walking toward the water with hesitation. Satoru’s bright eyes never leave your face. Too entranced by your natural beauty.

He kneels as you approach him and the water now rests on his shoulders. When you’re as close as you can be, his hands grasp the back of your thighs under the water, grazing them with his fingertips.

You can’t help the feeling of delight that curses through you when you see Satoru’s sweet expression under you as he peers at you through his lashes. He presses you closer to him to press a kiss below your belly before sliding his hands up.

He continues to trail kisses up your body as he rises from the water the higher he gets. Water dripping all over his toned body, wetting you in the process. In more places than one.

You feel his erection press against your stomach, and you pull him closer to capture your lips on his. He eagerly responds with a moan, your hand goes to grip his cock, pumping him leisurely. He groans against you, his body tightens and you watch as his muscles flex, drooling at the sight of him.

He breaks the kiss to press more against your neck, “The most beautiful woman I’ve seen,” he declares.

He takes you again that night. In the sand. And again, in the car the next morning because you both fell asleep on the beach after going back to his car to get some blankets. You shared more than just your bodies, but your hearts. He’d bared himself open to you, and you to him. You just wished you would’ve known more of him sooner before it all got messy.

Summer had been amazing, to say the least. You had moved back to your hometown at the beginning of summer after your dad had been hired at a top university to coach their men’s basketball team. Out of convenience, you had transferred to said university to be closer to home the same semester.

Things were working out. Your dad had invited his new team to have a small get-together at your house for some team bonding and to get to know one another before the season started.

You were fixing your hair in the vanity as loud voices came from downstairs, touching up your lipgloss one more time before heading down. You were excited, to say the least, your dad had been so thrilled to tell you about the team.

You heard the laughter and chatter get closer as you neared them.

Gojo had been laughing at something your dad had said when your mom had hinted at a near arrival, you. Geto had tapped Gojo’s shoulder and motioned to the figure that had just entered the room, and watched in disbelief as his entire world crashed before his eyes.

Gojo could feel his heart drop when his eyes locked onto yours, and both of your eyes widened in shock. Before either of you could think, your dad broke the silence.

“Boys, I’d like you to meet my daughter.”

And everyone knows the coach’s daughter is strictly off-limits.

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 ᥫ᭡ join my tag list :

TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm

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bnpd · 15 days

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I’m so excited for your gojo long shot series!🫶🫶 The first two parts already got me hooked 😍 thank you for sharing such a masterpiece luvv 🥹🫶

AHHHHHH thank you so much!! I was nervous it was gonna be too boring, but I'm so happy you guys like it <33 🥹🥹 cant wait for you guys to read the rest <3

#bnpd asks #bnpd tumblr #long shot bnpd #gojo x reader

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bnpd · 17 days

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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 002

❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞

SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but without some obstacles of course: your cousin.

WORD COUNT : 7K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Note: Buckle up. I am sorry in advance.

PT. 1 : PT.2

Before transitioning from elementary to middle school, your dad took you to your first basketball game.

He had just been hired to coach basketball at a nearby high school. Even though your family wasn’t religious it was a catholic based high school. To your father, a job was a job.

Those were the happiest years of your life. Your dad would pick you up after school, and take you straight from school to his basketball practices. There you sat on the bleachers to do your homework, oftentimes you’d find yourself drifting off to the players on the court. Their hyper-ness always proved to be a distraction for you. A welcome one.

Back then family time was often spent almost every single Friday at a basketball game your father coached. You grew up in a loving home. Your parents were madly in love. Although money didn’t come easy, it never once caused a rift between your family. If anything, it brought you closer. But that didn’t mean you liked a perfect life. Your mother was diagnosed with cancer for a long period during your childhood, and as a result, your father turned to alcoholism to deal with it.

He never came home drunk, but you knew it from the stench of his clothes. It was the little things that hinted at your parents’ ruining. The discarded long pieces of hair on the sink, to your mother's fragile body lying in bed, unable to lift a finger.

You had taken it upon yourself to try and sell some sort of anything, to help your parents. At first, it was hand-made creations from cheap bead jewelry, and art, to duct tape wallets. Then it became services like lawn mowing, babysitting, or dog walking.

You were still barely a teenager thus why people didn’t trust you beyond a lemonade stand.

Your dad had found out about your ‘secret’ jobs and came to the realization that burdening you was far from what they wanted to achieve. Life had become a rough patch, but it didn’t mean life was over. Far from it. At the start of your freshman year, your father had signed himself up for rehab, and before you were off to college your mother was declared cancer-free.

It took you all of high school to finally figure out that you wanted to involve yourself in a profession that surrounded basketball. While you didn’t know right away you wanted to be a physical therapist for a professional basketball team, you knew you wanted to be involved someway, somehow.

You’d do anything for a permanent spot on a basketball team as a physical therapist. So you signed up as manager for your school basketball team and got the position. Safe to say that no one else had the opportunity to become manager for the next four years.

Your cousin was an entirely different case. She grew up in a broken home. One that never got fixed. Since she was younger than you, you were often tasked to take care of her. Always putting her before you. Whether it was canceling plans with your friends to be able to take her somewhere, or inviting her to tag along. Which often resulted in her managing to get you all in trouble with some authority.

She was a troublemaker at heart, and unlike you, she didn’t know what she wanted in life. Her father abandoned her at a young age, and her mother would often disappear mysteriously for weeks on end, leaving her to your parents and you.

You worried for her, and her newfound relationship. Gojo’s reputation with women extends for miles. Every one of them ended with a nasty paparazzi headline. You hope that’s not her fate. She may not be your favorite person, but she was still your cousin.

Which is why right now, you find it difficult to say no, amidst a therapy session with your current client.

How could you? It was an invitation to a party in celebration of their newfound relationship. While it’ll kill you to idly stand by, you couldn’t stay bitter. The chances of Gojo Satoru and you were slim to none from the beginning. Your getting your hopes up was an unfortunate outcome of a conversation.

Torn between curiosity and the subtle pangs of unrequited affection, you hesitated before ultimately deciding to attend.

Unlike the first party, this one resonated high above the bustling streets below, atop a sleek skyscraper, lies the setting for tonight's affair—an exclusive penthouse outdoor pool party, overlooking the entire night city. Guests lounge on oversized outdoor chairs scattered around the pool area, sipping cocktails crafted by a skilled mixologist stationed at the bar at the balcony's edge. The atmosphere is relaxed yet vibrant, with a gentle breeze carrying laughter and animated conversation. Though the pool is the main event, no one dares jump in.

Despite the cheerful ambiance, an underlying sense of unease gnawed at you.

“You made it!” A chortle-like noise escapes your lips when a sudden warmth from behind envelops you. You recognize the voice to be your cousin. As her face comes into view you can’t help it when her contagious happiness transfers to you. A small genuine smile settles on your lips.

“Of course I did! What? It’s been like three months? I wouldn’t miss your party for the world.” You admit, hugging her tightly against you.

She rolls her eyes playfully dismissing you, “It has! But I’ve been busy trying to convince Gojo about a few things.” She pouts. Her admission raises a few warning flags in your mind, and before you can stop yourself you’re asking her, “Why? Is everything okay?”

Her mood changes again before you can blink, “Oh nothing, just want to start a family, and get married.” You choke on your drink, startling your cousin with a coughing fit. You wave your arm dismissively, putting your hand on your chest in a calming manner. She takes it as her queue to continue.

“But he keeps dismissing it. He says it’s ‘too soon’, or ‘he wants to take it slow’. It’s annoying.” You look at her in disbelief. “Well, you need to be considerate of his feelings. It’s his relationship too. If he doesn’t want to yet. Then you should respect that.” You preach to her, attempting to knock some sense into her, but by the time you look at her, she’s on her phone again. You release a sigh before walking towards the balcony railing, and away from her.

How does he handle her?

As you make your way to your destination you bump into a few of Gojo’s friends who greet you warmly, remembering you from the previous party as they introduced themselves to you for the sake of conversation. Once you reach the edge of the balcony.

You calmly sip on your drink before the real party starts, and something tells you a big announcement is coming. Until then, you’ll let the nerves eat you alive.

“Nice seeing you again,” You slightly freeze, gently startled by the unexpected presence. The voice is smooth and deep, resonating with a calm that seems to ripple through the air like a gentle breeze. It's the kind of voice that carries an unspoken weight, as though every word is carefully chosen.

You turn to see the Jujutsu Sorcerers’ point guard. Geto Suguru. Your subtle frown then turns into a full-blown smile once you both exchange greetings. You begin chatting away with Geto. Though his calming demeanor intimidates you, you never outwardly lose your ability to speak to him. It surprises you how easy conversing with him is.

You both lean side by side against the balcony railing.

“I heard you’re a physical therapist. That’s pretty cool,” he compliments, and his unwavering gaze never leaves yours. You almost have to remind yourself where you are, watching as a certain gust of wind blows stray strands of hairs onto his face.

You decide to answer with a teasing remark, “How’d you know? Gojo can’t keep his mouth shut?” You gently probe.

He laughs at your unexpected jab, and it sends a tingle down your spine at how deep it is. He takes a sip of his drink before continuing, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Very funny. Because you’re right. He can’t. In fact, he couldn’t shut up about you when you first—” And as if something that wasn’t supposed to slip out, slipped out. His eyes go wide, and his mouth immediately clamps shut.

You raise a skeptical brow at his almost admission, and you try to step in his direction as his eyes are attempting to avoid your eyes. “Finish that sentence,” You demand.

His eyes zero in on you again before he presses his index finger against his lips, signaling silence, then swiftly slides his fingers across his mouth, mimicking the motion of a zipper. A silent vow of secrecy, and a promise to keep quiet. Your jaw drops at his audacity, and his eyes tingle in a playful menacing manner. Almost like he planned his ‘little’ slip up, and the consequences of what it’ll bring to your peace of mind.

You begin to walk away from him, but not before glancing back to catch a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he playfully slightly sticks out his tongue with a scrunch in his eyebrows. Geto finishes off with a subtle tilt of his head and a sassy smirk dancing on his lips. You return the playful gesture, wordlessly communicating a shared moment of light-heartedness.

Another genuine smile gently graces your lips for the second time that night.

As the night progressed, the atmosphere subtly shifted, drawing everyone's attention to the small stage placed at the end of the pool. It was then that Gojo stepped forward, a slightly nervous yet determined gleam in his eyes. If you didn’t know Gojo outside of the court you’d think he’s confidently standing up there, but if you know Gojo like a best friend would, you’d realize he’s slightly anxious.

Fortunately for you, as a physical therapist, reading the body language of others is part of your job description.

Your eyes lock, and you find it almost hilarious how far away you both are from one another. Almost like a metaphor for something. You give him an encouraging thumbs up with an intended awkward smile, and the mic he holds to his chest catches his small huff of laughter.

From an intentional awkward smile, grows a small ghost smile that shyly tugs at the corner of your lips.

Your bubble quickly bursts when you remind yourself: He is not yours. And the smile that almost threatened to burst, slips right off.

Gojo watches you intently from the stage as he sees you fight an internal battle. Wondering what conflict could possibly be bothering you. He decides to focus on the task at hand, so he continues with his speech.

“Can I have the attention of everyone?” The music comes to a soothing halt before Gojo directs his eyes to an older woman who scarily resembles him. Though you can’t study her up close and personal, it is difficult to brush their similarities under the rug with how prominent and rare the Gojo genes seem to be.

He clears his throat again and continues, “First, I want to thank everybody for helping me celebrate being voted to represent at the All-Star game, coming up.” A few cheers and hollers are shouted from around you before the crowd erupts in synchronized cheers. “Five years in a row!” Geto shouts individually from behind you before one of his friends gently shoves him in a joking manner.

“Security!” Gojo says jokingly pointing at Geto before giggling to himself for his lame joke. Thankfully the crowd laughs too. “No, I’m kidding.” He pauses to gather himself to take on a more serious tone, “I have a lot to be celebrating about. Amazing friends,” He starts, but not without Geto muttering to himself, “Damn right.” You gently elbow him, and he makes a dramatized pained noise.

“The best mom,” he continues, looking at his mom with a sweet smile. At the mention of Mrs. Gojo, Geto sobers up immediately. “And the icing on the cake,” you freeze when Gojo’s eyes shift to you, and suddenly you feel a few eyes on you, “Thanks to a late night encounter at 3 A.M. at a convenience store.” Your heart flutters wildly in your chest before it bursts, and deflates to the pits of your stomach.

“I got to meet a wonderful woman.” The grip on your drink tightens, and you swear it might burst when the next words leave Gojo’s mouth. “And with so many of my good friends here tonight, I thought what better moment to ask my girlfriend, to take it a step further…”

Your cousin’s eyes widened in surprise as Gojo stepped forward, dropping down to one knee, his hand outstretched towards her, urging her to join him on stage. Suddenly then, Gojo reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a red velvet box.

A gasp threatened to release.

You watch as Gojo drops down to one knee, calling out to her, his voice soft yet a bit hesitant, "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

A collective gasp filled the air as her cheeks flushed with emotion, her hand delicately placed on her chest in faux sentiment. Tears glistened in her eyes as she nodded, unable to find her voice amidst the overwhelming rush of ‘feelings’.

You stand idly and watch the scene unfold before you, and you can’t help but notice Gojo’s mom shaking her head in disapproval, squeezing the shoulder of a moody-looking pre-teen. Though surprisingly you feel nothing towards the ordeal.

Geto scoffs behind you, shaking his head with a click of his tongue.

An unsettling feeling filters in your chest at the sight of three people, who are most important to Gojo, not celebrating the beginning of an important chapter of his life. His mom, Geto, and the mysterious moody pre-teen. You wonder if he’d told them of his plan to ask her to move in with him, but by the looks of it, the answer is clear as day.

Gojo’s chatting away animatedly when he feels a hand rest gently on his shoulder, capturing his attention. He turns with a smile at the sight of his mother, and Megumi, but it falters at the sight of their serious expressions. His mother’s expression was more surprising than Megumi’s, considering the boy’s usual resting face.

“Son, we need to have a conversation…” She trails off, looking into his eyes with the most sincere expression she can muster, “Don’t you think you’re going too fast?” She questions, concern etched on her features. “I mean, you’ve only known her for a little while,” a knowing look then morphs into her features, and he groans at the look on his face.

He figured she wouldn’t approve, considering how she hadn’t been fond of her presence in Gojo’s life. She has more to say but decides to keep the rest to herself for when the time is right. Her son has always been stubborn after all, though a momma’s boy at heart.

He then smiles at her, “Come on,” he convinces, “I just think it’s time I settle down.”

“You ‘think’?” She chastisingly questions him before pausing to continue, ‘Toru…Do you want to settle down or are you pressuring yourself to?” A meaningful look now rests on her features.

When she notices he doesn’t have an answer to her question she can only purse her lips at the recklessness of her son. She’s never seen him so conflicted yet assured. Oftentimes she’d find him easy to read–he was her son after all–but now he’s more guarded around her. She’s not sure how this will end, and it worries her.

The silence that envelops them is deafening, but Megumi finally decides to make his presence known by clearing his throat, “You know…” he starts meaningfully, “She’s kind of a bitch,” he finishes off before walking away. Leaving behind an alarmed Gojo.

Gojo can’t help the uncertain feeling that rests on his chest.

“We welcome you to the Shibuya Stadium tonight as we kick off the start of our All-Star Game,” The announcers commence, “We are just moments away from watching, what could potentially be, a groundbreaking game.”

You navigated through the bustling crowd toward Shoko, occasionally murmuring ‘excuse me’s’ while at the same time attempting to balance a tray of drinks down the stairs, towards the floor seats. You carefully weaved through the people standing, before reaching Shoko. She quickly breaks her attention away from the players warming up on the court, when she hears you call out to her for help.

“Sorry, let me help you with that” she mutters gently before grabbing her drink from you, and a sigh of relief leaves your lips at her help when the impending cramp that had begun developing fades away.

Your cousin frowns when you don’t offer her a drink, but quickly gets over it when you remind her that she didn’t ask for anything.

“Whatever,” she dismisses, and you roll your eyes at her attitude.

Your cousin had called you tonight to invite you to one of Gojo’s basketball games, and though it was on such short notice, you could never decline a basketball game. Let alone a free one with floor seats. Your heart had warmed when she had told you she wanted you to be there, but then it chilled when she confessed two of her friends had bailed on her (typical), leaving her alone with Gojo’s ‘crazy’ mom—as she would say—.

You doubt his mom was crazy, but you chose to keep that thought to herself. Because there’s no reasoning when it comes to your cousin.

After the ‘engagement,’ things returned to normal. If you thought you saw your cousin less when she started dating Gojo, now you don’t see her at all. You’re not sure whether to feel delighted or dishearted at how easily she had erased you from her life.

“Hello,” a woman greets—Gojo’s mother you assume, remembering her from the party—, extending her hand out to you with an outstretched smile resting on her lips. You return the smile twice as big.

“Hi,” you counter cheerfully as you take her hand, “nice to meet you,” and she gestures to the boy sitting beside her. After telling her you were the cousin of Gojo’s fiance, a look of surprise briefly crosses her eyes just as quickly as it came.“This is Megumi,” she introduces. He grumbles a quick greeting before crossing his arms and shifting away from everyone. You smile at him anyway.

Before Gojo’s mom can scold him, you politely wave her off, “It’s okay, I used to babysit moody children all the time when I was in college, they usually have a soft spot buried underneath all that,” you assure, briefly placing a palm on your chest to indicate the heart.

She laughs, nodding away in agreement, “I like you.”

The admission somehow means a lot to you. You weren’t a people pleaser in way, shape, or form, but it’s nice to know when people find you delightful. Especially elderly people.

“Tonight, we have some noticeable faces on the court,” the announcer sparks up once again when the crowd cheers as Gojo and Geto successfully carry out their signature practiced rebound. “We have the outstanding point guard of the Jujutsu Sorcerers, Geto Suguro. And the center, Kento Nanami. But the majority of the people in this stadium tonight, want to see, what could be, the best player of our generation, Gojo Satoru.”

The game continues on for an hour, with the Jujutsu Sorcerers in the lead by 15 points, when suddenly the crowd collectively stands as Gojo makes a 3-pointer. You high-five Gojo’s mom out of excitement, and even Megumi manages to crack a smile.

Amid his teammate’s free throw, Gojo’s eyes trail off to the stands in search of someone, and his eyes slightly widen in surprise at the sight of you. He subtly waves at you with a harmless crack of a smile, and you raise an unamused eyebrow. He responds with an animated frown in a comical attempt to get you to laugh.

You fail to stifle a grin as you turn your face away towards the person next to you and find Shoko staring intently at the interaction with a raised eyebrow. At the reminder of Gojo’s relationship the sweet moment shatters, and you don’t look at him directly for the remainder of the game.

As the players dribbled down the court the anticipation was high as five minutes remained left in the fourth quarter. Unsurprisingly Gojo had been dominating the court tonight.

Amid the game's intensity, a sudden collision sends Gojo crashing down with a sickening thud as the players surrounding Gojo come to a horrified halt. The crowd's cheers came to a deadlock as they watched him clutch his knee in agony, a grimace overtaking his features.

Gojo’s mom gasps as she moves from her seat to get to him. Your cousin stands back, watching with an unreadable look on her face, and you worry about what that could mean.

You don’t like the way his knee buckled, and guessing from the way he’s holding his knee you assume that it had something to do with the way his body shifted to one side as his knee remained in place.

Medical staff rushes into the basketball court as they motion for the players to stand back to make room for assistance. They pick him up to help him off the court, and you frown at the defeated look on Gojo’s face. The look on his face tugs a few strings in your heart. You have trouble deciding whether it’s because your profession surrounds you with countless broken dreams or because it’s the person whose dreams are being broken.

You don’t like what that might entail.

“I’m going to be honest here,” the announcer solemnly comments, “And I hate to say it, but most players do not recover from injuries like these.”

You didn't like a lot of things about tonight.

Gojo somberly lays in the hospital bed. His eyes never stray from his injured knee, until the door of the hospital room opens to reveal a doctor walking towards his bed.

His mom is first to speak, “Doctor, is he going to be okay?” Her teeth nibble at her lip in a stressful manner. The doctor wears a straight face, and his ability to not display an emotion concerns Gojo’s mother even more.

“Satoru has suffered a torn posterior cruciate ligament. Which is one of the four core ligaments needed for the knee to function properly. With some extreme discipline, hard work, and a bit of luck we might have you back in action by training camp.” Gojo’s teeth clench in agitation at the news, “training camp? You’re fucking with me.”

“Satoru…” His mom chides.

His manager speaks up “I have to get him ready by playoffs,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair as Gojo disassociates with the situation around him.

“I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible. You all need to be prepared for the possibility that Gojo Satoru’s NBA career could be over.” The doctor finished gently, his tone laced with empathy as he made his exit, shutting the door behind him.

Silence engulfed the room at the weight of the doctor’s words, suffocating Gojo. A sense of disbelief washed over him at the potential knowledge that he’ll never be able to play basketball again.

The manager is first to break the silence with an exasperated tone, “We’re gonna need one hell of a physical therapist if we want to get him ready by playoffs.”

Geto stands silently, a plan devising, “I know someone who can.”

“Absolutely not.” You decline, walking away from Geto.

You were in the middle of your lunch break when he showed up at your job, asking you to be Gojo’s physical therapist during his recovery. He was crazy, you concluded. You? Having to take on the responsibility of whether or not he’ll ever be able to step foot on that court? Hell no.

On top of that, while you would’ve jumped at the job in the past, things had changed. Being in a house with Gojo and your cousin sounded like your own personal hell.

You’d rather not put yourself in an uncomfortable position.

“Please,” He stares intently at you, “Didn’t you want to become a permanent NBA physical therapist?” Geto continues to reason with you, but you can’t find it in yourself to listen.

You raise an eyebrow at his admission, “You don’t even know if I’m good,” sipping on your drink before continuing, “It’s a big responsibility for me to take on such a job–” Geto cuts in before you could finish, “Which is why I’m giving you until the end of tomorrow to think about it. I already talked to his manager, and he’s on board.”

You pipe up to cut in but he’s quicker than you, “And yes we know there are already physical therapists working on the team.”

You can’t help but question one last time. “How are you sure I’m even qualified enough to treat someone like Gojo Satoru?”

“Because he told me he trusted that you could. He wants you to, and that’s enough.”

In the days that followed, news of Gojo's condition spread like wildfire, eliciting an outpouring of support and well-wishes from fans and teammates alike.

The magazine headlines were discouraging, to say the least.

“Is The Gojo Family Basketball Line Over?”

“WHAT NOW?: What Gojo Satoru’s Injury Means for the NBA.”

“IT’S GOJOVER.”

Gojo had a great support system even if a rotten apple was buried beneath the depths. You wonder how she was helping Gojo deal with this. She never had a bone of empathy after all.

After your conversation with Geto, you’d finished your shift, distracted, to say the least. On your drive back home you realized that he was right, working with the top player of the NBA could bring major attention to you, and your work. If you managed to get him ready by playoffs, that is.

And there’s nothing you can’t do when you put your mind to it.

Profession aside you had to consider the obvious. Would you be able to work day, and night in a house with Gojo and your cousin? You think you could, but saying it is vastly different than doing it. Considering how you felt during the proposal, you’re more than sure that you’ll be fine.

After you’d made it home, you quickly showered and thought more about it while you prepared for bed. You sat in silence for a few minutes in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. You sit up to reach for your phone on the bedside table, dialing Geto’s number.

With a sigh you speak into the darkness of your room, fiddling with the bedsheets snug against your bare legs, “I want good pay, like good.” You grin to yourself when you hear Geto’s snicker through the phone before humming in acknowledgment.

A moment of silence passes between you both before he breaks it, “That’s the first thing Satoru talked to his manager about, paying you more than the average pay,” he confesses, and you’re shocked at the admission but do nothing to show it. Quickly brushing over that statement.

“So, when do I start?”

The following day you packed some clothes to temporarily move in with your parents for the next few months that were to follow Gojo’s physical therapy. Since they lived a few minutes away from his house, the drive back and forth would be easy.

After you had called your mom she was more than happy to have you stay with them.

You were nervous for your first day of work, but Geto assured you, that he and Gojo’s manager would be there to help familiarize yourself with Gojo’s schedule.

You knock on the door and wait patiently as the locks turn on the other side of the door. “Oh,” your cousin deadpans before awkwardly greeting you, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to work. Gojo didn’t tell you?” You’re confused at her lack of awareness of the entire situation.

“I haven’t spoken to Gojo since he got injured, he’s got this whole ‘depressed’ thing going on, and it’s ruining my mood.”

You gape at her insensitivity, following her as she leads you into the house, “He’s upstairs with his mom and Megumi,” she motions her hand to the stairs. You can’t help but notice the missing engagement ring on her ring finger.

You notice she’s dressed up for something, and you wonder where she’s going. “You’re not staying?”

“Absolutely not. I’m going out.” You nod absentmindedly as you make your way up the stairs, and you sigh as you hear the front door slam behind you.

As you reach the second floor the faint noise of the TV grows louder with each step towards the dim light flowing out of the slightly opened door. You gently knock on the door, and the talking comes to a halt as a faint ‘come in’ is heard from inside.

You walk in to find Gojo’s mom chatting away on the phone, and Megumi playing video games on the flatscreen TV with a gloomy-looking Gojo sitting on the sofa.

Immediately you spring into action, “Not good.” You chastise, “Having your leg bent, and not elevated while you’re sitting for long periods will worsen the pain,” you move to grab his leg and prop it on the coffee table with a cushion resting on the back of his knee, to soften the hardness of the table.

Gojo’s once gloomy expression brightens at your presence, “Hey!” He greets you. You frown a little at his appearance.

The bags under his eyes. The skinnier physique—a contrast to his once semi-bulky one—. A more pale skin complexion. But it’s his lethargic movements that concern you the most. He needs to be up and active as soon as he’s able to walk without his boot cast.

“What? Not happy to see your favorite basketball player?” His words are delivered with a confident glint in his eyes.

“That’s if you can ever play again, remember?” Megumi states with a straight face before Gojo’s mom gently smacks the back of his head at his impolite retort, returning to her phone call. Megumi grumbles under his breath, rubbing the back of his head to soothe the gentle slap.

You stare at Gojo with a more serious expression. “We will get you on that court before playoffs, but I need your utmost effort. Got it?” “Yes ma’am.” Gojo gives you an exaggerated salute, complete with a comical serious facial expression.

“And where is your ice pack?” You question him, moving his crutches to the side of the couch. Gojo shrugs at the question, and you just now realize how hard he’ll probably make this for you. But you’ll need to get him into a routine immediately. You feel like you’ve already lost enough valuable time.

“Be up tomorrow at 8 in the morning for breakfast. We have a long set of months ahead of us.”

Geto and Gojo’s manager, whose name you learned was Hiromi Higuruma, had arrived shortly after your encounter with Gojo and Megumi.

They’d given you a rundown of Gojo’s everyday schedule and had advised you to switch it up depending on his physical therapy sessions. You nodded along, soaking up every piece of information offered to you.

“The job is full-time and live-in—” You quickly cut Higuruma off. “Live in? Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“And why not?” Good question. You look over at Geto for some help, and he sighs before coming to your rescue. “She’s staying with her parents a few blocks down, I think it’ll be okay. Don’t you think?” Higuruma looks between you both, thinking about Geto’s words before nodding.

“I suppose so, but that would mean I need you to be ready to answer the phone at any moment. Got it?”

“Got it,” you give him a firm nod before smiling over at Geto. He winks at you in response.

Higurama wraps up the brief rundown after ensuring you had his number saved in the case of an emergency.

After he leaves, Geto briefly pulls you aside for a talk. “Okay, since you’ll be here almost 24-7, one thing you need to know about this house is that the door right there,” he points to the shut door at the end of the hall, “Must remain closed at all times. No one is allowed in there, not Satoru’s mom, your cousin, or me. Only Satoru.”

You stare at the door and wonder what Gojo could be hiding in there. The once-light atmosphere turned uncomfortable. “Does he have a weird kinky room in there? Or what, Geto?” You awkwardly chuckle in an attempt to soothe the mood. Thankfully it does.

Geto laughs before nodding heartedly, “Knowing Satoru? Probably.” He pauses, “And don’t call me that. Call me Suguru.”

The days that followed Gojo’s physical therapy were tough. You had changed his diet, workout routine, and daily life schedule.

At the beginning of your sessions, Gojo would groan, and wither a lot in pain with certain exercises—granted. He’d start a bit somber, and brighten up as the day went on. It was like that until at some point he’d wake up ready to start the day.

“So, when will this knee be working again?” Gojo probed before releasing a deep groan when you gently shifted his bent knee open. You were currently in the middle of Gojo’s first physical therapy session of the day. As he lay on a cushioned treatment bed in the middle of his home Gym while you worked his knee. “Well, you need to let your knee heal first.” You answer him gently, gaze never leaving his leg.

You focus more on the position in which he groaned, “Any pain there?” You question him before repeating the motion. “Holy shit, yes,” he curses.

“You’re such a big baby,” You tell him, and he clicks his tongue at you before looking away.

A few exercises later, Gojo’s mom walks into the gym, “Hi sweetie!” She softly greets you before turning to Gojo with worried eyes, “How are you doing honey?”

“She’s torturing me, save me. Please,” he dramatically begs, earning an eye roll from you. “A man-child I tell you.”

No one in the room noticed the looming set of jealous eyes staring directly at you from the door.

Your cousin was never around and you weren’t ready to bring it up. Not until you were positive that Gojo’s progress was irreversible. Until then you tried not to bring her up or mention the lack of a ring on her finger.

Progress was finally showing physically, but lately, you’d started to see some decline in his mental health and ultimately it was affecting his session performances. And it was your job to make sure that didn’t happen.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked Gojo one day during the breakfast you’d cooked for Megumi and him.

Megumi had become slightly attached to you once you’d started to be around more. Silently following you around the house, no words spoken whatsoever. At first, he would be around at a distance. You’d be in a room, and Megumi would be peeking at you from the door, watching you. You never found it weird. Not at all. Shy and introverted kids were often like that.

So you let him come to you at his own time, and at some point, he did. Now he just trails behind you or beside you, depending on the day. You often include him in your unadventurous adventures, running errands.

He was always your little helper. Whether it was completing a task, or disputing with Gojo in your defense.

“Don’t talk to her.”

“Your face is stupid, Gojo.”

“That’s why you need help walking.”

“Maybe you’d be able to play if you were a better basketball player.”

If Gojo wants to playfully give you a hard time, it’d need to be around a time when Megumi is not present.

“Nothing is wrong with me,” he averts the question, munching away on his boiled eggs with a vegetable salad and a piece of bread. You look over at Megumi for an answer. The little boy nods in understanding, taking a bite of his breakfast before yapping away, “He had a fight with his girlfriend last night, and now they’re more angry with each other than they have been since you got here.” You narrow your eyes at Gojo.

Gojo gapes at Megumi before, whispering a faint ‘traitor’. Megumi shrugs before remembering something, “Oh, and he didn’t drink that green protein shake you made him yesterday morning because he said it ‘tastes like shi-’,” Gojo slaps a hand over Megumis mouth to silence him, and now you’re narrowing your eyes at him for a different reason.

“Ow!” Gojo yelps, snatching his hand away from Megumi’s mouth, and you snort at the red bite marks on his hand. You pat down Megumi’s hair as he eats away happily, unbothered from the mess he just made.

“You,” You point at Gojo, “should’ve told me that you didn’t like the green shake I made you. I could’ve just made you a different one. And you” you point to Megumi, “Only bite Gojo after he’s washed his hands.”

“How are you feeling?” Suguru says after exchanging hugs with Gojo, making sure not to get in the way of his crutches. Gojo grins at him before softly asking you to help him sit on the couch, and you move quickly to get a cushion, and his ice pack.

“I’ve been doing better, thanks to her,” he points at you with his thumb with praise. You smile thankfully at him.

His eyes linger on yours for a while longer before turning back to Suguru. You worry at the anxious look Suguru sports on his face, “There’s a rumor going around that the Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t want to re-sign you.” You immediately sit up at the news.

“What?” You interrupt with a scoff, “The Jujutsu Sorcerers? Without Gojo? No way.”

Gojo stares intently at the wall, contemplating the Suguru’s words. Suguru sighs, “I told them if they don’t re-sign you, they’re not re-signing me.” Gojo weakly smiles gratefully at Suguru, but you worry at how it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

They’ve been best friends since high school, you doubt Suguru is messing around. You’ve seen how close they are, they have each other's back for anything.

“We need you to be ready by playoffs, and I know you will be.”

“Have you heard from your cousin?” Gojo asks, looking at his phone. You’re in the middle of another physical therapy session when Gojo drops the bomb. You look up from your focus on his knee in a questioning manner, “I haven’t heard from her since she got engaged to you.”

You move your focus to his knee again, and he hums at your answer. As the session progresses, Gojo’s attention continuously strays. Until you can’t take it anymore.

“Alright, what’s the matter?”

Gojo opens his mouth to answer you before you cut him off, “And don’t say it’s nothing because you said that last time. It’s clearly something if it’s come up more than twice.” You look at him pointedly.

He sighs before rubbing his head in a frustrated manner. “We got into a fight the other day,” he confesses, you’re about to chime in before he continues, “I know you already know,” he says nervously, "but you don’t know about what.”

You’re scared now.

“We got into a fight…” he trails off, “About you.”

What?

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bnpd · 17 days

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cass LMAOOO

#bnpd asks #bnpd tumblr

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bnpd · 17 days

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loving your gojo series soooo much 🥺

Is it only going to have 3 parts ? but just wanted to say ITS SO GOOD and hope you have a good day/night <3

HEEY FRIEND!!! I wanted it to be 3 parts, but there is so much I want to fit into this fic so maybe 3-4 (maybe 5) parts (with some extra scenes if you guys want any)!!! I really want to explore this au <3 Thank you so much for supporting and liking my fic, means a lot to me ! Have a good night/day too !!

#bnpd asks #bnpd tumblr

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