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#gojo <33
neuvistar · 9 months
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ASS, TITS OR THIGHS?
— featuring ┊satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo x fem!reader (all separate)
— warnings / content warnings ┊suggestive obvi, not proofread oops, cunnilingus, uhm uhm use of nicknames, riding, mentions of titfucking, overall suggestive content | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
— a/n ┊jujutsu kaisen hyperfixation got the best of me guys i betrayed u all and accidentally became a gojo + sukuna liker i’m sorry. apology coming soon /j 😔
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𖦹 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
let’s be real here.. i know damn well this guy is definitely a tit man. cmon it’s just this feeling in me that can sense this guy’s love for titties, he’s the number one tit lover guys im telling you! i bet gojo is def the type to stand behind you and tower over you) at random times and slowly slip his large hands into your shirt, squeezing your tits like it’s the most casual thing for him! of course you wouldn’t mind.. so you would just carry on with whatever you were doing. up until he nuzzles against your nape, inhaling your scent as his fingers tug and pinch at your sensitive nipples, smirking against your skin when he hears you whimper at his touch. this guy makes your head spin sometimes it’s actually insane. “ooh. they’re soft.” “that’s how they’re supposed to be, dumbass” ngl i feel like gojo would love your tits for the dumbest reason ever, like since he’s rlly rlly tall i feel like he would like your tits all because “they’re easier to reach” LMFAO he’s so silly! this guy probably love’s embarrassing you sometimes cuz he would grab your tits literally ANYWHERE (if ur fine w it ofc) in conclusion.. he loves seeing you all embarrassed whenever he brings a hand to cup your tits in his hand!
gojo here loves stuffing his face in your tits, he doesn’t care.. it’s the ocean he wants to dive into 2nite lol! anyways sometimes during sweet little cuddle sessions he would straight up pull you up by your hips and press himself closer against your body before leaning down to drown his face in the softness your tits, cmon.. can you blame him? but anyways! gojo loves your titties regardless.. big or small, small or big, he’ll still be willing to shove his face in ‘em! he definitely has a thing for titfucking, you just.. look so hot laying there all sweet for him, squeezing your tits against his hard cock while he thrusts in between them, trying his best not to overdo it. “f—fuck.. they’re so soft.. so perfect. no one has ever fucked your tits like this like i have right, angel? mhm? look at them.. s’pretty and all mine.” he pinched your nipples rather harshly, forcing a whine to leave your pretty lips. “all mine, yeah?”
𖦹 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
look me in the eyes and tell me toji fushiguro doesn’t look like the ultimate ass man ever, cmon tell me! are we really surprised tho? are we REALLY surprised? he looks like the biggest ass man known to mankind it’s not even funny at this point he loves ass he mfing does i tell you. this old hag probably steals a few glances at your ass from time to time whenever you wear a skirt.. or a dress for special occasions, toji cant control himself bro it’s not his fault you had allat back there.. it’s not his fault for looking it was an accident! (no it was not and you knew it) ngl the first time he caught a glimpse of your ass he probably said “damn.” so loudly, loud and clear for you to hear. “damn.” you heard a familiar voice behind you, glancing over your shoulder to see your boyfriend’s intense gaze at your bottom. “i knew your ass was nice but i didn’t know it was this nice.. damnn.” “oh shut up, will you?” idk abt u guys but toji is probably the type to slap it while you walk past him sometimes.. like it’s so unexpected you just straight up flinch and glare up at him, rubbing it to try and ease the pain bc i bet his slaps HURT sometimes
toji 100% a fan of you taking it from the back.. he loves it! i mean do i need to explain further? though he loves seeing your facial expressions to see just how well he fucks you but i feel like he prefers to see your ass and well-defined back. you have this man in a TRANCE. no matter how hard he tries to focus on you, his eyes always manage to wander down to your rear. he loves pounding into you mercilessly like there’s no tomorrow just to see the jiggle physics of yo ass because gahhh dayummmm he loves the way it moves, my guy probably spanks too i’m telling u this dude loves ass, especially yours.. it’s an unhealthy obsession at this point idk what to tell u 🤷‍♀️
𖦹 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
suguru def a thigh man, i don’t even know my reasoning but he just screams thigh man.. like he seems like the type to love them ykwim? like he just loves diving into them any time he gets, holding your thighs against his hands while he pushes them to your chest. he def loves eating you out just so he can feel your thighs caging around his head, he loves how soft they are, how warm they feel whenever he gives them a little squeeze. personally i bet this fucker is probably a lil crazy about your thighs, just a little bit! whenever you sit on his face, he pushes you even more against his mouth. his tongue is talented that’s all i have to say, suguru doesn’t give two fucks if he can’t breath against your overstimulated pussy, he wants you to crush him with your pretty thighs thighs.. he wants your thighs to be the last thing he feels + sees before he suffocates and dies a happy man! suguru would keep you spread on his face, not caring about anything else in the world but you and your plushy thighs around his head. buddy probably eats you out like it’s his last, squeezing and helping your thighs trap his face in between them. god, he loves your thighs
suguru wrapped his lips around your pussy again, forcefully pulling you even closer until his nose was bumping against your clit, was that even possible? “s—su.. suguru!” one orgasm, then the next.. and the next after that, he hasn’t even came up for air.. you were worried at how much your thighs caged around his head, worrying about suffocating further. you tried pulling yourself up, looking down at him as your lips quivered. “suguru you okay?—“ no. he was most definitely not! he was struggling 2 breath but he didn’t give TWO FUCKS!! “your thighs.. feel so warm around me. sit back down, princess. i’m not done.. ‘wanna feel your pretty thighs against me again.” “.. but are you sure? you were struggling to breathe i could feel it—“ “sit, princess. i said sit. do i need to repeat myself?” no siiiirrr 🙅‍♀️
𖦹 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
ngl out of everyone here nanami is the most “normal” and tamed if this question ever comes along, my guy would probably answer with something like “they’re just body parts. is there even a reason to pay attention to female assets?” uhm. no obviously not but they’re hot ++ the question is important smartass. tbh i feel like nanami wouldn’t really care, he just.. appreciates you for being there by his side, he wouldn’t really care much about your body and what he likes about it, cuz babe he loves everything about you! such a sweetheart! but in all seriousness, i feel like he’d really be into your tits for some reason.. i mean come on! sometimes if he’s feeling a lil extra EXTRA bold be would sneak a few glances towards your cleavage, swallowing the lump in his throat as he notices you didn’t have a bra on that day. nanami would literally fight for his life and try his best to restrain himself n his desires every single time he would see you in any outfit that shows your cleavage.
i bet there was this one time you guys were about to cook together n you needed help with the apron so he helped you tie it, but then his hand accidentally brushed against your breast LMFAO. poor guy would realize slowly after and start contemplating his whole life and life decisions, apologizing to you sincerely and that he didn’t mean to do that! “kento seriously it’s fine, i don’t mind! if you wanted to touch them, you could’ve said so.” “i told you it was an accident, love. it’s not like that at all.” you chuckled at him before grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it close to your tits, making him touch em as the soft skin of your tits melt into his palm. “soft right?” you cooed, wincing a little when you felt his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple. “..mm.” cmon kento ⁉️ don’t be in denial! accept yourself as a certified tittie liker!
𖦹 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
tbh this guy could love all three of these, like there is not a single part of you he loves more than the other but if he really had to choose.. he would probably be fond of your ass, making him a semi ass man despite him.. probably liking all three! but then again.. lemme just say.. i know an ass/tit man when i see one (n he looks like one but my pick for today is ass) poor choso probably caught himself looking at your ass for a whole minute and he had to slap himself for a second to get himself back to reality, he can’t help it! your body is so hypnotic to him. i bet he’s also the type to give your bottom little taps and pokes whenever he needs something from you (damn) ++ my guy is probably a fan of you taking it from the back also, just like toji! listen listen okay. listen. reverse cowgirl position. lemme tell u he gets SOOO flustered whenever you ride him with your back turned against him, bouncing yourself on his cock while he can’t help but look down at your ass and how much it moved (lolz!) and how well your cunt was sucking him in! choso probably the type to bring a hand up to pull your hair, running his fingers through your hair as he tugs your back to him with your back arched, planting soft chaste kisses on your neck
choso doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable in anyway so he absolutely refuses to even plant a lil smack to your ass, even just a soft one! he would hold himself back n wouldn’t do it unless you wanted him too! if you do.. expect a lot of them coming your way because i bet he loves seeing your ass jiggle LIKEEE ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY NO MORE i bet his cock would twitch inside you every single fucking time he would see the jiggle physics of your ass! like i said.. he’s a fan of you taking it from the back! jiggle physics go absolutely craaaaazy 😝🙏
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gojoed · 7 months
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"oh my god satoru you look so cute here!"
"wait wait wait, don't look at those!"
you were currently holding a picture of satoru in your hands. it's nothing you haven't done before, going to the corner store and flipping through recently printed pictures of you and your friends after waiting a week for them to develop.
but this time you weren't holding snapshots of suguru having permanent marker on his face while sleeping or ridiculous photos of satoru and shoko grabbing onto each others hair, fighting over who gets to get the last snack from their stash. this time you held a photo of satoru, except younger. exponentially younger. as in, you just got your hands on a photo of satoru the moment he was born. literally.
like every other newborn he had that faint pink shade on his soft skin, button nose, and little hands that had the chubbiest of fingers. you swore you fell in love all over again with him.
the grown up version of the baby however did not feel the same. he didn't think a visit to his family's prestigious estate would lead to you seeing the one photo he would rather die than having any one of his friends see. he'd rather have you take a photo of him falling flat on his face on a pile of garbage actually.
how you came across that photo of him, he has no idea. you both were currently residing in his old bedroom, laid down on the old tatami mats that still smelled new. all he remembers is you getting up to look for something within the old cabinets of his room before you exclaimed about your recent discovery.
"oh there's more, lemme see."
"nononononono, no! you've already seen enough!"
satoru tried desperately to snatch the small box of photos that was now on the floor. seriously who put this here?? — maybe his mother heard of how he was bringing you along for the weekend and planted a little surprise for you to find. he was unsuccessful, again, as you seemed to be faster than the strongest now since the box was now sitting on your lap — the stack of photos now in your hands as you flipped through them one by one.
"you used to wear such cute things too! look at that, it's a little onesie with a duck pattern!"
satoru was now internally screaming, his ears blowing out steam now from embarrassment. they must be, since he could feel his face rise in temperature faster than ever, he might even be a new shade of scarlet now. he's resorted now to lying face first on the floor, burying his face in his arms trying to shield himself from your commentary.
he didn't budge when you poked him with your fingers, trying to show him photos of his even younger self. satoru won't deny it, he was cute as a baby. the cutest even (his ego was whispering that) — but to have you witness him in all his newborn glory? that was too much for him. now his image was shattered (the one he created in his head), you won't look at him the same anymore. you'll only think the words cute and adorable, and so on after this. no more comments on how hot he was, how undeniably attractive his smile was.
satoru gojo, was indefinitely, ruined.
that was at least his way of thinking. you were internally dying on the inside.
to think that at such a young age, satoru still held the most striking pair of eyes you've ever seen. even as a baby you could see that he held the heavens and even the depths of hell in them. you can see why many people whispered how his birth had changed everything in the jujutsu world.
but even so, you couldn't bring yourself to care about those old rumors. right now, you were focusing on just how cute he used to look, back when he was just a couple of pounds and was drowning in innocence that any baby had.
"hey satoru?"
"..mm?", well at least you got a reaction.
"who took these photos anyway?"
you had to wait a few seconds until you heard him shuffle, moving on all fours before sitting up and placing himself right next to you. the embarrassment had died down, just a bit. there was still evident pink on his neck, ears, and cheeks.
"it was mostly just my mom and the maids. they were the ones who always dressed me up too."
that made you smile, the image of a fussy satoru not wanting to put baby gloves on with a matching outfit — it was too good not to imagine. a few moments passed before satoru carefully snatched a handful of photos from you. you were about to protest when he began telling you the story behind each of them, or well, the ones he could remember.
maybe you seeing him like that wasn't so bad after all.
p.s., now he's totally gonna send some of these to the group chat. bet he was a cuter looking baby than suguru and shoko anyway.
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torusdove · 5 days
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Satoru Gojo deserves gentle love.
Gentle love, such as letting him put his head onto your lap after a long day of running around after the kids. Sure, he absolutely loves his work, but it can be exhausting from time to time. Nothing, and I mean nothing, beats crashing down onto your soft thighs and having your fingers in his hair. He loves being doted on as if he were a little baby, and he laps all the affection up like one as well.
Gentle love, such as peppering his face in tiny little kisses. Don't confuse them with chaste and rushed kisses. No. Satoru expects you to take your time, moving your lips at a slow pace. First, his forehead, then the birthmark above his eyebrow, then his temple.. you're mapping out his whole face with your plump, soft lips. As I said before, he adores being doted on.
Gentle love, such as reading him. Though he might not be a huge fan doing it himself, he could die to the sound of your voice. He can fully relax while you read him your current interests, your voice changing without yourself even noticing. He might fall asleep, or he might just admire you until you ask him to go to bed yourself. Either way, he won't disturb you, won't disturb his source of tranquillity.
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ohimsummer · 4 months
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✎ . . .❝ PUSSY PRIVILEGES ARE GONE ❞
— talking about pussy + one mention of “dick privileges”, whiny satoru, poly! satosugu x afab! reader, serial manspreader + sassy man Suguru, black reader in mind :3
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“You can’t do this to me.” Silence. “Baby, pleaseee!”
“Nah.,” you scoff. “Over with, pussy privileges are gone, and that’s final.”
“All because I don’t like the nickname?,” Suguru asks besides you, head cocked like a puppy.
You tug at Satoru’s strong hold around your waist. “Yep. Can’t get a kiss, can’t give my boyfriend a nickname. You two don’t love me anymore.”
Suguru crosses his arms over his chest, sinking further into the couch, traces of a pout falling over his face. He sighs. “What’s wrong with just calling me Sugu?”
You fight helplessly against Satoru, ignoring his continuous whining as he pulls you back into his lap. “What’s wrong with calling you ‘Papa Sugs’?”
“You can’t be serious.”
Huffing, with Satoru’s overdramatic and agonized moaning in the background. “Pft. Imma show you some damn serious.”
Suguru’s chuckle, exasperation creeping up the edges. “Sure. You’re gonna ban us from your pussy for…?”
“Indefinitely.,” you grunt, finally prying yourself from Satoru’s grip in his shock at your response.
“Baby!,” he whines, blinking shiny blue eyes at you beneath white lashes. “Baby, I-“
“Ohhh, so now I’m baby?”, you tease, rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t baby when you weren’t kissing me back, loser.”
“It was a joke!” Gojo puffs out his cheeks. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”
“Oh, okay.,” you smile at the knit of his brows. “You’re gonna be a changed man, alright.”
Satoru falls over into Suguru’s lap, stuffing his face into aforementioned man’s shirt and whining a muffled ,”You sooo hate us.”
“Whatever.,” you brush them off with a wave of your hand, heading to the kitchen. “Consider it a lesson in punishment.”
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Six days. Just shy of a week before Suguru shows signs of cracking, because Satoru couldn’t withstand this whole thing to begin with. He’d tried everything from begging to gifts to taking your ‘dick privileges’, and then being immediately thwarted with a flick of your vibrator.
“That thing’s gonna replace us?,” Suguru snorts, nibbling the inside of his cheeks.
“It’ll do for now.,” you giggle with a raise of your chin. In truth, it didn’t even come close, but you’re far too petty to admit that.
“Can’t believe that is gonna get more action than me.,” Satoru groans into the pillows. “I’m gonna die at this rate.”
“Good.,” and he jolts up with wide eyes at your response. “I’ll make an example out of you for Geto.”
Satoru drags himself up to pout in your direction. "You could at least call me Satoru, he's the one you're upset with about names."
"No, first names are for boyfriends only."
Suguru lays sprawled out on the bed, legs spread open in retaliation, tapping around on his phone. "Oh? And when did we lose boyfriend privileges?"
"Since just then."
Both men narrow their eyes at you, glancing at eachother before Suguru massages a temple, lids fluttering as his eyes roll to the back of his head. "Fine, we're terrible boyfriends. Happy now?"
You adjust the towel around your chest, and disappear into the bathroom for a shower. "Nope, but I'm glad y'all know."
Ever dramatic, Satoru points an accusatory finger at Suguru. "This is your fault, she didn't take these privileges until you and that whole Papa Sug nonsense!"
"Well, you started it."
Their bickering raises bouts of giggles in your throat. Water spouts from the shower head when you turn the knob, and you tinker for a few minutes to get it to a temperature of your liking. At the sound of your 'ahem', both men go silent.
"First one to join me in the shower gets pussy privileges ba–“
There's a sound of rapid scuffling, Satoru's 'ow!', and then a flash of dark hair as Suguru slams and locks the door behind him.
"Not fair, I fell!," Satoru whines from the other side, jiggling the knob.
"Desperate are we?," you flash your tongue at Suguru as he strips bare.
"Mm." comes his quiet response, not wanting to fully admit this little game of yours was a lot more painstaking than he let on.
"Does that mean I get to call you Papa Sugs now?" Before he can open his mouth, you add, "If not then you gotta get out."
"Yes, kick him out!," Satoru pipes in, door now wide open and you notice the knob is not as attached as it was before.
Suguru sighs, throwing his shirt in Satoru's face before pinching your waist, and he smirks when you give a small yelp. "Fine."
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earthtooz · 1 year
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hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3
gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!
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“where is our couch?”
gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.
“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.
that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.
and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.
“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull. 
“is it not in the living room?”
he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.
“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”
the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”
“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps. 
instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.
he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”
you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.
“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”
you sigh, “yes.”
“i warped it somewhere.”
“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”
“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”
that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye. 
“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz. 
“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”
“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.” 
his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”
before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind. 
rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.
“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.
“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”
“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”
“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”
you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”
“-then i’ll warp her house.”
“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”
“so you think i’m impressive?”
“gojo.”
“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”
you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.” 
“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 
you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you. 
“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill. 
your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.
he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.” 
gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.
his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done. 
even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade. 
as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you. 
it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.
“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”
“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”
“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”
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slttygeto · 5 months
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guys, i hope you know that dad! satoru and his baby boy would share similar laughs/giggles and over the silliest things too. like if your baby starts giggling about a lego house falling apart, satoru joins him and literally falls over from laughter. both of their faces turn pink from laughing so hard and then they do it all over again 🥹
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taohs · 7 months
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五条悟 for @gojosattoru
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how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo
synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.
word count; 6.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3
a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity
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you are five years old when you meet the prince.
five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.
the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.
”does it hurt?”
the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —
a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.
the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.
there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.
a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.
(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)
satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.
but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 
the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 
satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.
and he wins. he always wins.
that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.
time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 
satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.
that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.
and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 
but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.
(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)
satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.
because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 
a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 
(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)
a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 
so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 
it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.
and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 
there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 
you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.
when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.
you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.
so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.
the prince and his knight can do what they want.
not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 
(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.
but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)
satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.
and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 
but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.
as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 
all of it for one person.
all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 
that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.
sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.
a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.
(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)
the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 
despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.
“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”
you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.
satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.
“sure you do.”
”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”
”definitely.”
a moment passes. 
satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”
”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”
he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.
it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.
and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.
a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.
and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.
it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.
”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.
”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”
and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”
there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.
it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.
but…
”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 
you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.
satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 
after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”
you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.
”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”
satoru sits up a little straighter.
”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”
a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.
when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.
”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”
when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.
(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)
“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.
something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.
”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”
satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.
”settle down, little knight.”
a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 
”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 
a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”
you purse your lips.
“… i don’t think so.”
another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 
“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”
a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”
satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 
“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”
he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.
then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.
“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”
when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 
then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.
(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)
no matter where he goes, you follow.
and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.
“come with me.”
at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.
it’s the river you used to play by as children.
gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.
satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.
“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”
he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”
he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.
”i think you’re too scared to get in.”
you blink.
”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.
“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”
you raise your brow. unimpressed.
satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 
“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”
satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 
his knight. his favourite knight.
“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”
“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.
a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.
the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.
“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”
so you do.
and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 
the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.
you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.
a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.
his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 
a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.
but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 
and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 
“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”
his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…
(he’s warm.)
silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.
“i missed this.”
nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 
then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?
“… me too.”
“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 
you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 
”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”
a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.
”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 
satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”
another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.
”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 
a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 
”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”
silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 
(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.
when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)
”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.
”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”
a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 
“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”
silence. and then, a chuckle.
that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.
”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”
but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.
and then; 
“i’d do it, you know.”
a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 
satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”
”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”
(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)
you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”
“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”
and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.
“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”
“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”
“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”
you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.
“… sorry.”
a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”
he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”
”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”
”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”
and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.
enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.
”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”
there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.
you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 
“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”
“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”
a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.
“i don't get it, though.”
you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.
”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”
the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.
satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 
his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”
you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.
”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”
a moment passes.
silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 
all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.
fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 
satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.
a boy so sweet you’d die for him.
(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)
a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.
”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”
but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”
”you’ll get sick.”
”i never get sick.”
a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.
a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”
and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 
but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 
until satoru suddenly chuckles.
“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”
you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”
before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.
“i think i was born to meet you.”
(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)
948 notes · View notes
bliss-in-the-void · 7 months
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THEY FUCKING DID IT THE ROMANTIC PIANO MUSIC AND THE FLASHBACK MONTAGE OF SUGURU’S FACE NOOOOO IM IN SHAMBLES AHHHHHHHHHHH
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THE PARTIAL SMILE!! Like his first instinct was happiness at seeing Suguru omg
The montage of Suguru’s face gave dead wife vibes oh my god and the gorgeous, wistful piano song they chose…I wonder what it’s called. Maybe “Blue Spring”? I don’t think it’s out yet but ohh if it is someone tell me pls
I just needed to rant ugh 🥹 they did it justice!!
530 notes · View notes
hrtbeomi · 1 day
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⋆ ˒ 💭 ۫  ּ ROMANCE IS NOT DEAD IF YOU KEEP IT JUST YOURS !
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pairing: actor!gojo x singer!reader wc: 0,3k            warnings: not proofread ‼️, reader's album is basically reputation by miss tswift 🙈
a/n: i've had this in my drafts for a while now,, hope you like it >< i just looove actor!gojo and if you'd like to see more of him leave a comment!
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WIRED AUTOCOMPLETE INTERVIEW WITH GOJO SATORU AND Y/N
3. 2. 1. ACTION !
As the camera clicked on, you sensed the beginning of another recording session. Satoru, next to you, shifted in his seat about before the start of the video.
"Hey there, it's l/n y/n," you chimed in with a grin, "and i'm Gojo Satoru," the white-haired male beside you smoothly finished, "and this is our Wired auto-complete interview!" both of you beamed as the staff handed over boards containing the internet's most searched questions.
Satoru held your board while you held his, diving into the depths of what the online people wanted to know about you.
Q. "Who's y/n l/n's 'gorgeous' about?"
With a smirk, you retorted, "sorry to burst your bubble, person-who-searched-that but 'gorgeous' is about your mom," you answered, eliciting laughter from Satoru and the crew.
"Lame! Just tell them the truth" Satoru teased, well aware of the implications behind his words.
"That's the only truth," you replied, feigning innocence before swiftly moving on.
Q. "Is y/n l/n's song 'call it what you want' about Gojo Satoru?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you stuttered, "That's... quite the assumption," failing miserably at masking your nerves.
The crew chuckled, mentioning how your fandom had already orchestrated a fictional relationship between you two.
"We know, next they'll claim we're expecting a baby or something!" Satoru quipped, earning a horrified look from you, "Alright, my turn now."
Q. "Who's Gojo Satoru's favorite actor?"
"I'd say my good ol' friend, Geto Suguru! He's a top-notch," Satoru replied, reminiscing about the movies and series they did together.
"True, i'm a big fan of his work" you confessed, prompting a playful pout from Satoru.
"Maybe he's not that great anymore," he mumbled in mock jealousy.
"You're good too!" you reassured him amidst laughter.
Q. "Is Gojo Satoru married to y/n l/n?"
"Spiritually i am" Satoru quipped, earning a playful jab from you.
"Don't encourage them, Satoru!" you scolded him.
"Sorry, couldn't resist," he replied unrepentantly.
Q. "Is Gojo Satoru in a relationship?"
"I am. . .not! i'm a lone wolf" Satoru declared with a hint of melancholy, though everyone in the room knew the truth but as you looked at him, his convincing lie almost had you fooled, if it weren't for the fact that you, his actual girlfriend, stood right beside him.
"Alright, alpha boy, next question!" you exclaimed before the tables turned.
Q. "What's the name of y/n l/n's next album?"
"I've just released 'reputation' can't I catch a break?" you exclaimed, playfully collapsing out of your chair.
"How dramatic," Satoru chuckled before suggesting, "You should write a song about me though."
CUT !
[BONUS] [CLIP THAT WAS CUT FROM THE VIDEO]
"Sure, it'll be called 'gorgeous,'" you teased, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"The greatest song ever! Although 'So It Goes' is my personal favorite," Satoru grinned mischievously, almost revealing too much of your relationship before you intervened.
"Too much information!" you laughed, covering his mouth to keep him from saying more.
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© 2024 HRTBEOMI
208 notes · View notes
mrsackermannx · 7 months
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Honey, I’m home…
GOJO SATORU X FEM READER MDNI
tags: ceo/dad/husband gojo, smut, light degradation (use of slut twice), not pet play but he calls her a kitty, exhibitionism (gojo is on a zoom call), teasing, one shot.
wc: 3.7k
a/n: after the manga and the anime last week, this was needed for me to revive (an oldie from the drafts) 😭 not to mention spanish uni is kicking my ass so satoru is keeping me sane rn hahaha 🫣
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Eating breakfast alone was seldom done in the Gojo household, because Satoru liked the kind of breakfasts that looked like they do in the movies. 
An assortment of brightly coloured fruits and pancake stacks, his wife by his side, a smug grin on his face as he sipped his coffee and asked everyone what they’d be doing with their day. The odd dad joke or two, or more. 
You snorted quietly at the thought, pausing at the fridge door. The kids were at Megumi and Yuuji’s, so they couldn’t tease you for being sentimental, or groan at the photos their embarrassing father insisted be plastered to the fridge.
Heart shapes, letters, bunnies, an assortment of magnets stuck decades worth of fond memories to the appliance. Your daughter’s first birthday, with Satoru at her side helping her blow out the candles, your second son’s first time at a water park on Satoru’s shoulders, last Christmas vacation in the Philippines.  
Your eyes crinkled as you took notice of your favourite one, stroking the scrawl of Satoru’s handwriting on the Polaroid’s border. “Mr and Mrs Gojo.” 
The polaroid was the lovesick image of you and Satoru in Italy for your honeymoon.
You can remember the warmth of the evening, and how pink the sunburn was on the tip of his nose. Oh how the sun had bronzed the nape of his neck, making his white hair all the more a stark contrast. His cologne was sweet and intoxicating as his large hands dwarfed your cheeks, as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You could feel his smile as he did so, laughing at the cheers that engulfed you both. The faces visible behind you both were flushed and merry as your hands clasped. 
One of your favourite photos.
Your husband’s position as CEO of his clan’s company afforded all the luxuries a woman and a family could desire. But sometimes everybody needed Satoru. There were nights you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, only to be left with cold sheets and him muttering into his phone down the hall at the crack of dawn, Ijichi beeping just outside already. 
Satoru always told you to be selfish, to put yourself first, to be bold with your desires. But you found it hard to voice when you were feeling —greedy about him. When you were feeling so possessive you wanted to drive over to headquarters when he was doing overtime, and fuck him right in his office so everybody would know that work wasn’t his only priority. 
He’d been gone a mere twelve days, and he went on these trips three times a year, max—granted. And Satoru normally had his best men on them but sometimes he had to go too.
You almost scalded your lap with tea when you heard steps clicking through the foyer. You held your breath waiting for a sunny and inevitable rendition of a ‘Honey, I’m home!’ 
Instead you heard the surely jet-lagged mumble of your husband instead. “I forgot about it because I was overseas Nanami! You know you ought to let loose if you really think I should’ve come straight to headquarters as soon as I landed!”
He was positively barking on the line when his suitcases reached a sudden halt and he saw a peek of you in the kitchen. You grinned, jumping to your feet to greet him though he only gestured to his phone with a tired smile. 
You blew him a kiss and his shoulders slackened, finally dropping his bags. “Yes, bu-I’m already home! I’m not heading through traffic just to-“
You reclined back on your stool, grinning at him when he pointed an imaginary gun to his head at Nanami’s audible ranting on the other line.
“Fine, I’ll be on the call in five!” He ripped off his jacket and headed down the foyer, “Morning babe!” he boomed, “Didn’t wake you, did I?” 
His voice echoed down the hall. When you reached him you stood at the foot of the stairs, your hands on your hips. You arched one brow before you spoke through gritted teeth, “No, you didn’t.” 
The deep split of your robe was exposing the planes of your smooth skin, teasing slithers of your breasts and your belly button. He wanted nothing more than to get on his knees and worship you as if it were a holy day. He wanted your thighs swung over his shoulders, and his mouth right between them. 
He mentally cursed at the thought, releasing a deep sigh into his palm. “You okay, sweetheart?”
He didn’t even have the time. 
“Fine, and you?”
He could hear in your voice you were on the edge of asking something, asking for more. After so many years of marriage he could smell when a bad mood was brewing from you, better yet taste it. 
He tried to fool you as if it were easy, that signature grin, a smooth click of those fingers. “Nothing! Just gotta sit in on this meeting, goddess.” He winked, “Let’s catch up in a bit.”
The entire interaction had left you dumbfounded, standing in the foyer and suddenly feeling lonelier than you did eating breakfast alone. Somehow.
“Gojo fucking Satoru,” you hissed to yourself. “Do not goddess me.” 
Had someone replaced your husband with a clone? Satoru could have flown halfway across the world and back, after not seeing you for more than a day was enough to make him needier than ever. He always came back, desperate and ready to devour you.
You were unsettled, but quickly renewed with courage when you approached his study half an hour later and heard him speaking. His voice was back to its usual, chirpy and light.
You wavered for several seconds, loosening your robe before you slipped inside.
He was gesturing wildly with his hands, relaying the success of his trip no doubt. But when he saw you his eyes narrowed and then darkened. 
You resisted a smirk when you heard Choso’s voice seconds later. “Why’d you turn your camera off?” 
Then Toji’s, husky and bored. “We don’t have to see his smug face, do we?” he spat. “Anyway, I’m fucking falling asleep here. It’s early. You gonna continue or what?”
Satoru hummed, his voice now entirely reserved for you as his eyes were all over those bare thighs of yours. You were sprawled out on his chaise lounge and scrolling through your phone.
He cleared his throat, “Bad signal, sorry about that.” 
His eyes didn’t leave you, not even once. You could feel his gaze all over your skin, as scorching as the sun as you stretched and yawned where you lay. Languid and feigning innocence as you arched your back slightly and felt your robe slip enough to expose your bare breasts.
You heard a sharp intake of breath and continued stretching this way and that. But after minutes of this torment and his various sighs to grab your attention you relented and turned a fraction.
Lust was pooling in those crystalline eyes, turning them dark. If they were usually like waves sparkling in the morning sun, they were now akin to a bottomless ocean with a crescent moon’s light. 
A breath passed and you rose to your feet, mischief tipping the corners of your lips up into something erotic and enchanting to your husband. He tilted his head, asking a silent question as he hummed in agreement to whatever the hell Nanami had just said.
You shifted onto your knees and crawled between his legs and he smirked as if the sight amused him. You rested your cheek on his thigh, like a needy cat waiting to be played with. How dare you act as if you were waiting in apprehension when those eyes of yours said anything but.
His eyes finally flickered with warning, but not the red-light kind of warning, the kind that oozed with a dominance so overpowering that you bowed your head and took to quietly unzipping his pants. 
His teeth clenched in anticipation before he jabbed at his keyboard to mute himself, and gave you his attention. “Bored, huh? I can give you something worthwhile to do, honey. Just wanted something to suck on? Yeah?” he cooed, his voice dripping so sweetly in condescension that it made your teeth hurt.
He chuckled when you nodded eagerly, running this thumb over your lower lip as he unbuckled his belt one-handed. “I know, baby. I know. Ready for me?”
You grinned, opening your mouth for him to push his thumb into it first. “Be good to me, yeah? I don’t wanna have to cut my meeting short because you think it’s funny to tease.”
He spoke to you as if he was saying something as mundane as remember to take an umbrella today. Rather than a man who was now loudly slapping the tip of his cock on the tongue of his needy wife during a conference call. 
His low groans reverberated through your core, every inch of your skin waiting to be touched by your lover. The sweet and salty taste of him kissed your tastebuds and came with a rueful delayed reaction. At first it helped soothe the aching arousal between your legs but then it made you even needier. 
“How’s that for my spoiled little sweetheart? Heh heh, like a needy little cat, aren’t ya? Licking up every last drop.”
“Not as needy as you,” you purred, pulling away just in time for his arousal to drip onto your lower lip. “Meow.”
His brows knitted together at the sight, his arousal was glistening and smeared all over your lips.
“No, no. Don’t,” he hissed, before his voice sweetened. “Swallow it for me, baby. I’ve gotta get back to work.”
He winked and put a finger to his lips before asking Geto to repeat whatever convoluted question that had been background noise just moments ago. 
You smiled in glee around his dick when his voice wobbled the further you took him down your throat, doing your best to remain quiet just under his desk. But as usual, it was Satoru who threatened to blow your cover—as usual. 
You swelled with pride when he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing frantically and his chest heaving back and forth. 
It was Nanami who noticed first, interrupting Geto’s presentation when he hears a shaky breath stuttering through the laptop at the end of the conference table. “Gojo? Are we boring you?”
“Ah, no!” He scrambled forward so quickly he swiped a pot of stationery clean off his desk. Not without bumbles of laughter from the meeting room of men.
 “Just…working out!” he managed through gritted teeth, one hand still cradling the back of your head and guiding your sweet and unforgiving mouth back and forth. 
Toji sighed, the oldest of the men and the least naive. “You choose to do that shit now?”
Choso yawned, glancing toward an agitated Nanami. “What shit are we discussing?”
Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You’d know if you weren’t asleep, and Gojo save the workout for after the meeting, please. Let’s proceed.”
“Not my fault, I had to stay up and help Yuuji cram for an exam,” Choso mumbled. 
“Aww! Choso-nii!” Suguru laughed, “Satoru, are you hearing this?”
You were both momentarily so grateful for his team’s ability to bicker about anything down to the probability of rain that day, that you were bringing Satoru to heights of pleasure he’d not even dared anticipate. One he was laughably jet lagged and two he was in an incredibly important meeting but he couldn’t care less.
“Oh fuck, baby. Oh—juust like that!” he spluttered, unable to think about anything else other than the way you were flicking your tongue along his shaft. You sucked and rubbed your wet lips along that sensitive spot of his that made him whimper upon contact.
You fucking devil.
Suguru burst into laughter first, without Satoru’s arm the sounds of him slapping the table in his hysterics filled the room, then followed Sukuna’s laughter. “Is that pretty little wife of yours home by any chance?” he cackled, then Satoru was sure he heard Toji’s laughter but he was already too far gone. 
He hissed as he pulled you off his cock, coughing to smother the audible popping sound. His teeth sinking into his lower lip at the lewd sight of saliva drooling down onto your chest. “I hate you,” he hissed in a whisper. Before muting the call to allow you both to compose yourself, whilst Nanami scolded the team.
Then he was ready.
He cleared his throat before he spoke, “Sorry about that! My wife was giving me a quick massage before she headed out for work. You know how much sleeping on aeroplanes messes with my neck, right Nanami? Please, proceed.”
The sooner this ended the better. 
Sukuna snorted first, “Are you sure you weren’t fucking her?” 
“Would you refrain from referring to my wife like that, Sukuna? You are already on two strikes, aren’t you?” Satoru’s voice was so short and stern that even Nanami held his breath. 
“As I said, let’s continue.”
A chorus of “yes sir” had Satoru smirking down at you on the floor. His eyes locked on you as he made quick work of the mouse and pushed his keyboard aside, tapping the edge of your desk. 
You sprang to your feet to sit, the air thick with tension as he untied your robe to reveal the bare skin beneath it. “Oh baby, just look at you,” he purred, bringing his chair closer just to marvel at the sight before him.
His large hands gripped your breasts, sucking and licking until you relaxed and sank your hands into his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most. He was eager to please, his eyes not breaking from yours for even a second as he leaned forward and kissed your pussy, grinning when he found you slick and dripping for him.
He suckled on your clit until you mewled, his lips fitted to the bud as his tongue swirled and licked until you were gasping out his name. “Gojo? So, how did you find their sales department?” Nanami exhaled, “Gojo?”
He broke from you with an apologetic grin, assuming that sharp CEO voice as he flicked his mic back on. “Yeah, as I told Yaga when I was there the energy was not quite what I expected. It was interesting to see how their team implemented the techniques in which…”
But his words were lost on you, your teeth sunk into your lip as he flicked the tips of his fingers against your swollen clit. The movements were so deft and precise that they were turning your brain into mush, but they were also so tortuously light that you couldn’t handle it anymore. Heat rushed to your cheeks. Your eyes clamped shut.
Satoru removed his hand, tapping your thigh to grab your attention. He pointed to his cock with a smirk. “Ride me,” he mouthed. “Now.”
“Choso, how was your trip to Kyoto? Did you manage any meetings with the execs?” he continued, squeezing the backs of your thighs whilst you grabbed the base of him and hovered above his cock. 
“Well, I took my brother so I didn’t have a lot of time to….”
You shook your head, gulping when he flicked his finger across that mouse pad once more. 
“Ah? You gonna leave me hanging? That’s cruel, darling. More my style than yours. But as long as you keep quiet, we shouldn’t have a problem.” His voice was silky, and just ever so slightly mean, but it aroused you and he knew it. “Can’t have them hearing you like this, baby. Like you’re some kind of slut.” 
“Satoru, I won’t be able to be quiet, I can wait till after I-“
He tutted, sweeping his hands under your thighs as his gaze hardened. “You clearly can’t, so come on darling, sit on it for me, yeah? You know I hate these fucking meetings so help me get through it and fuck me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, until you were letting him take full control of your mouth.
“I’m just so tired baby, need you to take care of me,” he moaned into your lips. “I know you can, baby. I know your pussy needs me inside, huh?” he cooed, rutting his cock against your slicked cunt.
“Yes,” you whimpered, pulling away to find his his cheeks dusted with pink and his eyes barely open,
“Yeah?” 
You nodded, slotting one arm around his neck whilst you guided him to your cunt and began to sink down on him. “Oh fuuck,” he cursed, his voice leaving him in short hot bursts of air against your neck. 
“That’s it baby, go on. You’re gonna have to move for me baby. Go slow for me. Fuck me, touch me.”
His eyes fluttered shut as he guided your hands under his shirt, feeling your touch like this was enough to make him come sometimes. “Baby, fuck me. Come on.”
“Can’t. I’ll be noisy,” you whined, only a few inches full but yet struggling to focus on whatever Choso was rambling about and then promptly being interrupted by Geto and then Sukuna. 
“You’ve gotta make this up to me baby, didn’t touch myself the entire time I was away. You’re gonna make me lose it. This is your fault.”
“M’ sorry! I thought you wanted it. You were hard already!” 
“I always want you, baby. I always want it. Let me show you.” 
He lifted his hips and filled you in one fluid moment, both of your voices embracing in one sweet and lengthy moan. Before he was moaning with every thrust, “Cause you were prancing around my office looking too pretty like that baby, I’m about to show you just how much.” 
Your pussy clutched him so tight at the praise he groaned and found his lips landing on your own with a magnetic, desperate pull from within his heart. How lucky he was to come back home to you.
“Good girl, you knew exactly what I wanted, knew I wanted to come home and fuck you just like this.”
He watched your pussy drool down his cock as you moved up and down on it, tentative and hungry for him. Your pupils were blown wide, like you were drunk on him, like you had been waiting for the moment you could be like this with him.
It made his cock twitch, the sensation making you quiver and smother your noises into your palm. You stopped, his full length sheathed inside of you, the relief and pleasure that contorted your features was truly beautiful, the sight he’d been waiting for. You tried desperately to catch your breath, “Need a second.”
He brought you closer, wrapping an arm around your back as he whispered. “Huh? You needy little thing, I thought you couldn’t—fuckin’—wait.” Each word was separated by a breath as your cunt fluttered from his low, and reprimanding tone. “No way. No.”
He felt so good. He was filling you so well.
He flicked himself of mute to hum along to Toji’s thoughts of Choso’s pitch. But his breaths were growing more and more laboured. You turned to see Nanami’s face growing pink. “You falling asleep there or pumping one out before you crash man?” Sukuna asked.
“Sorry! I just—” His chest heaved, and he closed his eyes to take a breath just as your pussy was teasing his tip, so close but not close enough. You grinned as you took revenge and slammed down on him all at once, “Oh fuck!” he groaned.
“Sleeping on that plane really got my neck, just had to crack it.”
Toji leaned to look into the camera a huge smirk on his face, “Is your fucking wife with you?”
“What, of course not,” he answered, his pants surely audible the other end. “In the gym actually.”
“Are you serious?”
“Carry on with the meeting I don’t have all day.” That was his no bullshit tone. The sound of it making you throb so wildly he was all smug, a little ‘hmph’ leaving his lips as he muted the call once more.
Nanami stiffened, “Yes sir, Ijichi proceed.”
“You’re gonna pay for that, darling,” he breathed, locking your hips in place so he could pound up into you with ruthless precision. You were a whimpering mess, arms around his neck squeezing impossibly tight as you had no other choice but to take all he was offering.
“Toru, Toru! Toru!” Your voice climbed higher with every thrust, the lewd sounds of your moans only amplified by the high walls of his slick, black study. 
“Please, m’ sorry. Gonna come, gonna make a mess,” you cried.
“Oh yeah? I know you will.” His thumb started on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had your lower half jolting and squirming, as his cock hit that spot like a hammer to a nail. All too perfect, all too precise, like everything your husband did.
Closer and closer, until you were pulling on his hair, body coated so much in sweat your hands resigned to clawing down his nape instead. 
“Please!”
“No baby, make a fucking mess. How could I ever say no to my wife? They all know it, you know it.”
“Important meeting…Nanami’ll get mad at me! He’ll know!”
“Fuck Nanami, fuck work, fuck everyone. Focus on me. Go on, oh? Too much?” He laughed, kissing down your throat. “You can cry baby, fuck yourself on my cock like there’s no fucking tomorrow,” he growled.
“Use me, use me, use me.”
You finally bursted but Satoru was still moving his hips like the sadist he truly was. “Feels too good doesn’t it baby, doesn’t it?” 
He laughed at the fluids covering your thighs and soiling his pants. “Fuuck, baby you’re so hot.”
Kissing your temple fondly, you both startled as you came back to reality. “Gojo!”
His fingers made quick work of his mouse. “Sorry! Sorry! I had to take an important call.”
“But um, listen I’m gonna have to go.” 
Luckily for him you’d slowed down so he could finally get his breaths even, chuckling and trying to sound as blasé as he could muster. “I’ve really gotta go! Nanami, update me, yeah!”
He ended the call before they could even complain.
You stood, legs shaking as you leant over to grab your robe. But Satoru was already gripping your ass from behind, “Where do you think you’re going? Shall I put another baby in ya this morning? You’re in heat after all. Clearly three aren’t enough, huh?”
He mounted you over his desk, his chest flat against your back as he filled you up all at once. “Why you so wet for, huh?” he groaned, already hitting that spot inside you that had you whining. “Because you’re a needy little slut who sucked me off—whilst I was busy working—or from squirting all over me and the desk? Come on baby! Tell me?”
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©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.
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neuvistar · 8 months
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jjk brainrot rn but.. hear me out.
GOJO SATORU AND CUTE NERD LOSER PATHETIC GIRL READER ‼️‼️‼️‼️ giggling and kicking my feet jus imagining it fr and shes literally so bad at half da sports she tried in p.e class nd other stuff like omg 😭😭🤭🤭
i’m definitely hearing u out! BUT OMFGGG THATS SO CUTE
ultimate definition of a loser and a nerd (sorry) it’s so funny cuz i can imagine satoru just tricking her into doing athletic things n all that, she’s just.. not into tht stuff! i feel like satoru would love having her around sometimes n just bait her 2 train w him n it’s like.. the most godly fucking training routine there is 🥹 (he did it on purpose 2 tease her) poor girl would be panting all over the place but i don’t think satoru would mind, he’s just too busy looking at how sweaty she is after doing like what.. TWO LAPS ONLY☠️ while he’s on his fifth LMAO, poor thing she’s trying ok 😭!!
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gojoed · 7 months
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your eyes didn't need to be open to know that he was looking at you. deft and lean fingers carded and twirled with the strands of your hair that were splayed over his lap. the soft wind that blew through the gojo estate drove the smell of summer to you.
satoru's fingers would sometimes wander to your face, tracing your features, following your jawline where at times his lips replaced his fingers. his lap was comfortable, sleep worthy even. not to mention the extra plush the traditional clothing he had on that helped guide your head to its place.
you also didn't need your eyes to be open to know that any minute now he would say something stupid.
"hey babe?"
"mm?" your eyes still closed.
"did you hear about the italian chef who died?"
you furrowed your brows, you haven't heard that one before.
"what italian chef are you talking about satoru."
"cmon just answer the question." you could practically hear the pout in his voice. which if you didn't listen, would turn to a tantrum. in turn it would turn into satoru proclaiming that you didn't love him anymore, that if you really did you would have just answered. you decided to save yourself the hassle.
"no satoru, i haven't heard about the italian chef who died."
"really? cause he pasta-way."
"..."
finally opening your eyes, you could see small wide pools of blue staring down at you. observing you as if he were a cat watching someone from across the room. except you were lying your head on his lap, and he picked up a strand of your hair and started tickling your face with it.
when he reached your mouth, you blew at your own hair. earning yourself a 'so mean' from your boyfriend. but that didn't stop him from continuing to draw unknown shapes on your face.
he looked handsome, you thought. although he was a teenager he still held his baby face within his features. but you could tell within a few short years the subtle baby fat still residing in his cheeks would soon fade to be replaced with a sharp jawline, maybe a more striking smile. the pink however, that always seemed to dust his face whenever he was with you, you hoped it never went away. and you hoped that the look he gave you with his eyes, you hoped that that stayed as long as you lived.
"why're you lookin' at me like that, pretty? you in love with me or something?"
satoru was such a tease.
"mm, with your money maybe."
satoru knew you were joking, but that didn't stop him from dropping that strand of hair he was playing with and releasing a sharp gasp from his pink and smooth lips (you suspect he was using your chapstick, satoru respectfully disagrees). he laid a hand over his chest, as if he was in pain.
"i knew it! you're just like the rest of them! maybe i should've listened to the old geezers when they told me you were bad news."
that made you laugh, a sound coming from deep within your abdomen, making your body slightly quake. that sound never failed to make a smile appear on satoru's face, so much so that he even smiled with his eyes. his skin crinkled at the edges.
lifting your arms, you placed you hands on his cheeks, pulling him in a little.
"baby, you're the one who's bad news. not me."
satoru hummed, enjoying the way you were slightly squishing his lips together and stroking his face. "the baddest, they just can't get enough of me." that put a smile on your face, satoru was so stupid.
"why did they even summon you here anyway, satoru?"
the question made satoru scoff slightly and roll his eyes. stupid, he could have made that look less hot than it was.
"stupid old farts wanna know how i'm doing at jujutsu high. i'm their dear 'satoru-kun' who's the face of the clan and that i need to act like it. i swear most of them probably have something stuck up their ass so deep they'll probably die with whatever's in there."
he huffed, nuzzling the side of his face with one of your palms. you always calmed him; your presence, your smell. everything about you made his mind calm but at the same time you made his heart race so much that he feared it would jump out of his chest — leaving him to chase after it only to give it to you on the palm of his hand. satoru gojo was the strongest, ever since birth. but he swears you made him the weakest man alive.
satoru pouted when he felt you lift yourself from his lap, ready to whine before he felt you guide his head to yours.
"you don't look so young yourself satoru, you might as well be an old fart."
"hey! i am young and beautiful, thank you very much! the white hair just adds to my charm, it's all natural. guys wish they could be me."
you smiled, leaning down to softly peck his lips.
"that's all they'll ever do then. you're one of a kind. my satoru."
satoru grinned, grabbing onto your forearms as you stared down at him while he stared at you. "all yours."
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saltoru · 8 months
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suggestive!
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gojo, who likes to touch you all over and dump his load inside of you, as a way to claim and protect you. the amount of time you've spent with him and the high level of intimacy you two share has effectively allowed gojo to gradually spread his energy onto you.
although you can't tell, jujutsu sorcerers around the world are able to pick up the scent and residue of gojo's jujutsu. you walking around with gojo's energy is his way to boldly and clearly express his love and power to the world, and everyone knows better than to land even a finger on the person claimed and protected by the strongest.
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s4no · 8 months
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hai congrats on ur milestone ! ! <33 adw for gojo pls 💌💌
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[ a ]: aftercare - what is he like after sex? satoru is absolutely starstruck after sex with you— positively drunk on love (and maybe a little high from the endorphins). he'll bend over backward for you and he'll do it gladly if it means taking care of your needs. you're thirsty? he's on it. you want cuddles? consider it done. you need a bath? he'll lather you up in soap and wash your hair, even go as far as brushing it out and blowing it dry. he treats you like royalty, even if he fucks you like a slut.
[ d ]: dark content - does he partake in anything that would be considered dc? this isn't necessarily dark content but it turns him on when there's a large power imbalance between him and his partner. he wants to cultivate your innocence almost as much as he wants to corrupt it. if that means playing dirty to get what he wants— whether that be lying, manipulation, or coercion— then so be it.
[ w ]: wait - how much does he tease? how long does he make you wait? it's damn near infuriating how often gojo teases you. he loves the quick back and forth of your banter and will never pass up the opportunity to push your buttons or get under your skin. initially, you seethe. you snap at him when he works you up only to deny you at the last second— glare daggers at him as his fingers rub between your folds, purposefully avoiding your clit. but without fail, your resolve crumbles until you force yourself to swallow your pride and give in to his demands.
nsfw alphabet
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ffsg0jo · 19 days
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I loved your Ramadan works with the JJK characters. It's so nice to see another muslimah who writes for JJK :)). I am not sure if you are still actively posting, but would you consider writing a piece with the cast's reaction to the hijab and abaya? JazakAllah!
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jjk characters with a muslim/hijabi reader [gojo edition]
gojo x reader [platonic or romantic it's open to interpretation]
w/c: 955 words
a/n: i got so carried away writing gojo's i realised if i added more characters, it'd be an incredibly long post. so i took them out and i'm gonna post them over the next couple weeks <33 so far i have megumi, nanami, itadori and nobara lmk if you want anymore characters :)) also guys pls feel free to send requests/suggestions :))
also anon you're the sweetest person every thank you so so much you've single handedly given me motivation to keep writing and ive got more works coming out. i hope you're having an amazing day inshaAllah bestie 💗
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Gojo definitely thinks you’re doing a cosplay of some sort. It’s not uncommon in certain parts of Tokyo, so it’s safe to assume so most of the time. Even he’s been mistaken for Kakashi cosplays a lot of the time, with his black get-up and blindfold.
But then he sees you wearing different colour hijabs and abayas, and sometimes even a cute lil jilbabs and it confuses him. Suddenly, the thought occurs to him that maybe you’re not in a 24/7 cosplay, like him, and actually just dress covered head to toe.
As soon as he reaches that epiphany you best believe he pesters you and badgers you for answers. “y/n are you cold? is that why you’re always dressed like that?”
At first, you think it’s funny to give him nonsensical answers because he keeps saying stupid things, but you realise he's being deadly serious. plus, he gets increasingly bothersome, so you eventually get annoyed from all his questioning and just tell him about how you’re a Muslim and observe hijab.
He actually takes it quite seriously and apologises for lowkey making fun of your shitty cosplay in his head. He’s ignorant, not prejudiced, so he defo takes it back and, for once, takes accountability and apologises for his actions. He’s personally not a believer, but he respects it.
Once, you complained about how expensive abayas were becoming and how you just wished someone would just buy you a whole wardrobe of them to all the students, and he happened to overhear.
Literally days later he’s at your door with multiple bags full of abayas and hijabs and all sorts of modest clothing. You’re completely shick shack shook and don’t know what to say. You defo cry and try to hide it with your headscarf.
He barges into your room (after making sure you’re fully covered, he's learnt from that mistake) and spends the next 5 or so hours showcasing each item and telling you where in the world he got it from, the materials and everything.
He has really good taste in colours and styles and knows what would look good on you. You’re literally set for life. Absolutely refuses to let you pay him back. Every single time you mention money, he shuts you down and changes the topic entirely.
In summer he’s shocked you look relatively calm and okay. He’s literally boiling his bum off with a tank top (I’m laughing at imagining Gojo in a white tank top like an immigrant dad lmaoo) and you’re looking as fresh as daisies with everything covered. He asks how you're not melting and you’re waffling to him about airflow and how it’s actually quite breezy, and you’re not wearing anything underneath, so it’s fine, and he stops breathing and short circuits.
He looks at you with his eyes wide, and his sun reddened face goes a shade darker. "You’re not wearing anything underneath?" He takes it the completely wrong way, and you realise what it sounds like, and you’re both a bumbling mess.
It's the first time anyone’s ever seen Gojo that flustered.
Also some quickfire headcanons:
He genuinely thought you slept and showered with your hijab on, so he burst into your room one day and you screamed and he immediately warped somewhere else when he saw you wearing pyjamas (he didn’t see anything above your clothed knees, he panicked and left so quickly plus he was scared to look).
Gets you cute little clips to put on your hijab. He thinks they’re pretty.
Is absolutely devasted you can’t have mochi and some other desserts because they have pork gelatine in them and he always tries to find vegan alternatives.
Purposefully steps on your abaya/dress when it's flowing and he's behind you to annoy you.
Has extra pins pinned onto his uniform for you just in case you need them.
This is a secret he’ll take to his grave, but he actually tried to make you one of his favourite desserts you couldn’t eat (he threatened the bakery for the recipe), but it went so disastrously wrong he gave up and didnt want to face the embarrassment.
I’m talking melted plastic in the oven, small kitchen fire, eyebrows singed, and potential carbon monoxide poisoning bad.
You wore this specific shade of light blue once with a cream khimar, and for some reason, he was absolutely obsessed with that outfit. It wasn't until Nobara pointed out that your outfit matched Gojo's colour scheme did he finally realise why <33
The abaya sizing really confused him and he was so baffled as to what the numbers meant. Wdym size 52 what does that even measure 😭😭
He was faffing about for 2 hours before he realised he could've just googled it, and he felt absolutely stupid about it.
Whenever he sees a bit of your hair accidentally peeking out he covers his eyes and screams at you to "cover yourself woman goddammit". He's so dramatic honestly.
Thinks it’s hilarious seeing you run in your abaya. He thinks its the funniest thing in the world.
Once (he's lying defo more than once) he was zoned out while watching you and his heart started beating faster when he realised how beautiful you are with your long dress blowing in the breeze and your hijab lightly fluttering. You looked ethereal. He didn't know what to think, and he pushed his feelings back down. Deep deep down.
He doesn't need unnecessary feelings complicating things, but for some reason, his heart still yearns for you.
He also makes terrorist jokes about you to you. I will not explain that one, but he 100% does.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work in any way, shape, or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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