onsen incident — gojo satoru
synopsis. gojo satoru gets everything he wants and right now he really wants to go to an onsen with you.
contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he's just a cute loser, highschool!gojo (first year), he needs to be locked up asap
notes. this is part ii to indulge me? and a piece in the series, but can be read alone.
you’re not sure how you ended up here. one moment you were exorcizing a grade one curse that rampaged a small town with gojo and now you find yourself back at the ryokan you had stayed at the prior night. except this time around you have an overly excited gojo, still at a high from the successful mission.
“suguru mentioned how nice the onsens here were,” he brings up innocently, his lips curving into a sly grin. you spare him a side glance.
“we should be heading back to the airport to return to tokyo,” you asserted, eyes trained on the entrance of the onsen— a wooden paneled door leading to the private hot spring that came with the room you and gojo had unknowingly reserved.
gojo stretched leisurely, his body arched like a cat as he yawns, “i don’t know about you but i’m beat! that curse wore out all my energy and a quick dip in an onsen is just what this body needs.” he opens one eye, gauging your reaction.
you don’t buy his act. “you exorcised the curse instantaneously, gojo.”
but gojo doesn’t back down easily, “yeah, well that took up a lot of cursed energy and now i’m drained,” he reasons. the white haired male solidifies his argument by collapsing on you just to show how fatigued he was. his dramatic show nearly sends you tumbling.
annoyance simmered in you, arms folding over your chest. the flight back to tokyo was in a couple of hours, and you had hoped to be able to go sightseeing.
but gojo’s sky-blue eyes plead silently as they look up at you, unblinking. his pink lips start to quiver. it was hard to deny him when he was basically begging. as comical as his dramatics were, you could almost argue how hard it was to resist his unwavering gaze. plus, he was the one that completed the mission singlehandedly.
“fine.” you yielded. “thirty minutes and then we leave.”
he perks up happily.
“great! let’s go!” without wasting a moment, he seizes your hand and practically skips to the entrance.
you recoiled, nearly shrieking, “you pervert! i’m not going in there with you! i’m going to go sightseeing.”
gojo looks at you like you’ve sprouted two heads.
“... then what’s the point of the onsen?” he looked at you incredulously. it deeply troubled you that someone so conniving could look so innocent.
your response is caught in your throat, leaving you flustered and unable to make eye contact. arms remained crossed, you mutter, “you’re insane if you think i’m stepping foot in an onsen with you.”
gojo’s tongue prodded at his cheek, lost in thought, “they do say you have to be insane to be a jujutsu sorcerer." he looks at you all enthused, "don’t be shy now, we’ve already slept together after all.” there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.
“we slept in the same bed– not together! don’t you go spreading that around now,” you jump to cup a hand over his mouth. you feel him grin underneath the palm of your hand.
“same thwing,” gojo’s voice is muffled, but he doesn’t bother taking your soft hand off his face.
“it is not,” you furrow your eyebrows.
“it can be.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a boyish smile growing.
you remove your hand from his face, “have you no shame?”
“not a shred,” he declares cheerfully. “come on, we’re wasting precious time standing here. i can feel the steaming water calling our names.”
“i’ve told you already, gojo. i’m not going to a hot spring naked with you.”
he waves his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to be naked, it’s not unheard of for people to go in with a towel.”
you sigh exasperatedly at his stubborn disposition, “it would still be highly inappropriate.”
“as inappropriate as cuddling with your classmate while he’s naked and unconscious?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. gojo was once again referring to the previous night’s moment of vulnerability.
you stiffen.
“it was not like that and you know it. for all i know, you were the one cuddling me,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a huff.
gojo raises his hands in defense, “how about we call it even and hop in the hot spring together as a compromise?”
“that doesn’t make any sense.”
“it makes perfect sense. just two classmates relieving the weight of the world off their shoulders.”
you hate that he’s starting to convince you.
the knowing smile creeping on gojo’s face signals that he’s sensed your weakening resolve. he decides to deal the finishing blow.
“this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. with busy lives like ours, who knows the next time we will be able to visit one of the world’s best hot springs?” he gestures dramatically. reluctantly, you start to give into his words.
“fine. but if i see you indecent, i will kill you.” you point a finger threateningly at gojo.
he simply chuckles, “kinky.”
operation satoru x [name]!!!!
gojosatowu
attachment: 1 image
shoko.ieiri
what the actual hell gojo.
i did not need to see a picture of you with nothing but a towel on. ts is disgusting.
getosugu
where is [name]? i thought you guys were returning from your mission today.
gojosatowu
heh
the two of us are going to take a little dip in kyushu’s world famous onsens haha :3
shoko.ieiri
WHAT
getosugu
you?? [name]?? onsen?? together??
gojo satoru explain
hello?
shoko.ieiri
where is [name] you dirty pervert
i swear i’ll murder you if you pull any dirty tricks
answer now
gojosatowu
gotta go!
ive been dreaming of this day ><
shoko.ieiri
don’t you go ignoring us!!
you’re already settled in the hot spring by the time gojo arrives. with a snug towel secured tightly around your body, you are submerged underwater from the chest down. the steam curls lazily into the air, casting a dreamlike haze around you.
“for someone that was excited about the onsen, you came awfully late,” you quipped at the snow-haired boy. his signature glasses are absent, allowing you complete access to his azure eyes. on the other hand, gojo is granted the opportunity of seeing you in all of your natural beauty.
gojo enters the steaming water just a couple of feet away from you, “had to calm myself before seeing you.” he sighs contentedly when the water envelopes him. it was true. his nerves were a lot calmer when he was fighting the grade one curse than the short walk from the changing room to the hot spring.
you can't help but roll your eyes at his obvious flirtation attempt, but you decide to let it slide.
the conversation lapses into silence, an awkward veil settling between you. you were starting to regret ever entertaining gojo’s invitation to the onsen. to escape the discomfort, you divert your gaze to the steam rising from the water's surface and the surrounding rocks. the trees around you start to look interesting as you focus on not letting you eyes stray on gojo’s solid buil—
breaking the silence, gojo interjects, "did ya think i looked cool taking down that curse?"
your eyes shift from the rocks to gojo’s face, “it was quite impressive how you were able to crush the curse with your infinity.” you have heard of stories of gojo’s strength, but seeing it with your very own eyes was truly incredible.
he preens under your praise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
"perhaps i deserve a reward," he suggests, his voice taking on a playful tone.
you entertain the idea, your curiosity piqued. "i suppose you do."
a deeper flush tinges gojo's cheeks, and he averts his gaze. without warning, he points at his cheek, anticipating something. you tilt your head, puzzled by his unspoken request. he keeps pointing to his cheek, poking it multiple times.
“…”
“give me a kiss!”
the water ripples with how fast you lean back, “huh? no way.”
undeterred, gojo shakes his head. "fine then. i guess i'll have to kiss you.”
your eyes widen as he leans closer, and you instinctively scoot away, surprised by his boldness. "what? no!"
“eh?! why not? i went total snowagumon on that curse!”
“that’s your job gojo,” you respond matter-of-factly. you’re a bit taken aback by his digimon reference. how dorky.
gojo clicks his tongue, feigning indignation as he looks away. “hmph. can’t even get appreciation for keeping the world in balance.”
you let out a resigned sigh, realizing he's being dramatic again. it almost feels like dealing with a child. but you suppose you’ll play right into his hands this time– and this time only. he has worked hard on this mission, taking on all the work while you watch idly from the sidelines.
hesitantly, you inch closer towards his frame. the distance closes as you lean towards his face. it was only a split second, but your lips placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
you watch what once was a pink blush blossomed into something deeper. gojo sits up a little straighter and you notice how the corner of his lips are slightly upward.
“gojo, are you oka–”
“satoru. call me satoru,” he interjected, sounding breathless, his eyes locking on yours.
you look at him, uncertain. “isn’t that a bit too informal? we’ve only known each other for a couple of months.”
“if it was up to me, we’d be married by now,” satoru closes his eyes nonchalantly, sinking deeply into the water until half of his face is under. he blows a series of bubbles. he really was a child.
your laughter rings out melodiously as you throw your head back, finding his remark utterly amusing. “you’re actually ridiculous.”
satoru watches you with a soft smile, his heart feeling lighter. it was criminal how cute you were. if this was his reward for exorcizing a measly grade one curse, he was willing to wipe out all special grades on the earth just to receive your praise again. maybe next time you'll even kiss him on the lips (he'll die a happy man if that happens).
"i am, aren't i?" he muses, basking in the joy of the moment.
extra notes. i lowk hate this but due to popular demand i had to write it. ps i dont even know anything abt digimon i js know gojo likes it gn (forgive me if my digimon reference was totally wrong)
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neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.
uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.
you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.
he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.
however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"
neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.
it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.
the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.
“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.
it's far from over.
he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.
neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.
you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.
it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.
he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.
the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.
not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.
"what are you doing? i am going to be late."
"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.
"you have to do my hair."
"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."
your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.
no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.
but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.
you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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headlocks 'nd könig
; getting fucked in a headlock
tw: headlock, power difference (?) female reader.
simon riley ver...
with one burly arm tightening around your nape, holding your body close to his, the smell of your perfume still lingering on your bare neck. you pant, heavy and lightheaded as könig grinds his muscular, broad hips upwards and against your pretty, tight ass.
“mein herz, don’t you hear yourself? panting like a filthy dog, aren’t you, ja?”
könig adores having complete control and power over you. with your body atop of his, his strong arm holding you close as he fucks and thrusts skywards into you, your thighs supple and spread apart, allowing him to fuck you with ease. the roughness of his hoarse austrian accent has you gasping through tears, two smaller hands grasping at his biceps, attempting to catch your breath as he slams his thick, hot cock into your wet, slick heat, the texture of your gummy walls addictive.
“what is it, little mouse. can’t handle a little’ roughening up, nein?”
könig taunts you for not being able to catch up with him, having more stamina and endurance, while you rest upon his large, brute body, panting and breathless as he knocks the wind from your lungs once again. the impact and force of his broad hips and muscular thighs against yours has you sobbing pathetically, feeling stupid under his harsh gaze, with your lips puffy from weeping and your cheeks sore from being slapped
“take me deeper, little bunny, let me show you how a real man fucks... can’t keep up? then you’ll just have to try, my dear.”
you grip his upper arm, muscles tensing underneath your fingers as he fucks you mercilessly, with his heavy, musky balls pressed against your ass, pounding into you like a mutt in heat.
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