Gojo Satoru X Reader - Blog Posts

Edit : Someone has found it.

Link is in the comment section if anyone wants to read it 🤸

Hello people of Tumblr I need your help on finding a Gojo fanfic it's on ao3 where the OC or the reader is trained (more like traumatized ) by Toji and she has a adopted father named Micah ?? 🤡

Oh and she has something living inside her like an entity I think the fic ended with how it started with the line

" who are you "

Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky

Gojo first met you when you where four.

He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.

Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.

He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’

But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.

Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.

The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.

That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.

And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.

Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.

Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.

Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.

But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?

Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.

And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.

You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.

Were you treating him like everyone else after all?

“Gojo?”

Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”

“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.

“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”

“That’s just too bad—!”

From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.

Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.

Where as Shoko had a blast!

She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.

Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.

“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.

Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.

He looks away.

No, too cute.

He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”

Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.

He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.

Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.

But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.

Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’

How stupid!

Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.

He meets you again though.

12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.

But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.

You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.

His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”

“Say it again.”

“Huh…?”

“My name. Satoru…”

You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.

“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”

before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.

Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.

“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.

The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.

But you?

Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?

something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…

includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe

note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!

link to part two

i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.

no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.

no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.

and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.

the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.

things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.

conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…

one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.

when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.

a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.

gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.

"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"

while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"

"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."

he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.

"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"

the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"

"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.

the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.

"miss what, daddy?"

"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."

"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-

"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"

"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

"jeez kid, just answer the question."

she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.

she doesn't budge.

"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."

with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.

"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"

ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.

"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."

she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."

"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."

20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.

The ultimate gojo fanfiction

sincerely not | season one

↳ gojou satoru x f!reader

— series masterlist

summary. with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, arranged marriage, ceo au, 18+

word count. 213k

fic warnings. mean!gojo, ooc, adultery/infidelity, profanity, explicit smut, violence, emotional trauma/physical abuse from past experiences, neglect, heavy family drama, illnesses, classism, pregnancy, undertones of masochism, undertones of manipulation, abandonment issues, overall toxic relationships, graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide/murder (and attempts thereof), minor character death, plot loosely based on twotm & tre. please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

fic art + playlist + gallery + faqs + ko-fi + misc + podcast feature

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten + eleven + twelve + thirteen + fourteen + fifteen + sixteen + seventeen + eighteen + nineteen + twenty (final) + sequel

status: completed

all rights reserved © 2021 saintobio. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

I THINK I'M LOST AGAIN

7 days in beautiful Tuscany, 1 big wedding which would change the trajectory of your life. As Shoko’s maid of honour, your job was already demanding enough without bringing up the fact that you would be seeing your college ex again, Gojo Satoru, the best man for the same wedding— five years after his mysterious disappearance.

・❥・ex-lovers to ??, wedding au, no curses, gojo is misunderstood, reader is sassy, shoko and geto are tired, gojo is a secretive mf, yu haibara is a ray of sunshine, suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, yn throws a punch here, everyone is unhinged, mentions of injury, heavy angst, mentions of class divides, language, mentions of murder, a car crash, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes, slowburn, mentions of cheating, reader and satoru were once engaged

𖨆♡𖨆 ceo!gojo satoru x female!reader

・❥・ wc: 2,4k+

The sound of the gurgling pipes overhead this dingy bathroom along with the bass humming underneath your platform boots were the only sounds your ringing ears could make out. 

Silence, shattered and broken in between two best friends, came straight after her devastating question. 

“What?” 

When Shoko Ieiri asked you to be her maid of honour during one drunken night out in downtown Shibuya, there was nothing you could do but excitedly say ‘yes’.

The huge rock on her finger, a sign of her forever love with none other than Geto Suguru, was the star of the show for the entire evening, that you had zero suspicions as to why she tugged you into the club’s bathroom, a grimace on her dusky rose-hued lips. 

“There’s something you need to know.” 

Three shots in, you giggled, looking scandalised. “What? Are you and Suguru-hic-pregnant?” 

Ieiri made a face, shaking her head in disgust. “Ew. Don’t manifest such shit for me. It’s about you, actually.” 

Deciding to rip the bandaid faster than you could yell out wait! Shoko exhaled out: 

“Gojou Satoru. Remember him? I mean of course you do, you dated him. He’s um—he’s Getou’s best man for the same wedding… PleasedonthatemeIammsosorry.” 

You felt like you were strapped in the back of a car going 200 down a highway. 

“What?” you almost shrieked, piercing the dingy air with your disbelief. Not even a cold shower could sober you up faster than the mention of your ex-boyfriend. 

Despite it being five years since you saw the white-haired demon, his legacy was astounding. Eyeing your empty ring finger, you swallowed harshly. 

“Ieiri… why would Geto do this?” 

He was your friend, too. Didn’t Suguru care for you? Wasn’t he the one there to pick up the pieces of your trust that Satoru fractured so casually one night when all three of you were out in a club? 

“They’ve been friends since they were in diapers,” Shoko murmured, wincing when you groaned. “I’m so sorry. I tried to change his mind, but he’s adamant. He really wants Satoru to come with us to Tuscany.” 

You had to lean against the sink, arms crossed over your chest to absorb this piece of news. “Does Satoru know?” 

Even saying his name burned. 

You hadn’t allowed yourself to even think of him since the night you found him…

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the thoughts, you winced. 

“He does. But, Geto said he seemed pretty chill about it.” 

When you didn’t say anything, Shoko reached out to you, rubbing your arm. “Come on. It’s been five years. I bet Satoru regrets what he did and he’s willing to at least be nice. Can you do this? For me?” 

She twisted her lips into a pout and widened her eyes, the effect comical from her deep set eye bags late nights at the hospital gave her. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes for a split second to ward off the migraine festering in your right temple.

“Fine.” 

Sunshine split across her face like the dawn of a new day, and you sincerely hoped the twinge of resentment you felt flickering in your chest would not drown out her happiness. 

Shoko deserves this. She went through so much to get this ring—from Getou’s stuffy upper class parents to his equally snobbish friends—and you couldn’t bear to ruin her hope.

You sighed. “But, if he’s creepy with me, I deserve the right to sock him right in his face.” 

His stupid, handsome, fucking pale face. Your venomous thoughts spilled out onto your murderous expression, tinging them with righteous violence—you could never really hide your emotions from your best friend.

Ieiri laughed, throwing her head back and clutching her midsection. The pretty, blue pastel dress she wore for tonight’s announcement party showed off her curves and delicate collarbones perfectly. You loved her too much to ever make her sad, and forced yourself to swallow the apprehension, going through with the motions to see both your friends happy. 

“Don’t worry, you know I’ll help you to hide the body. Always.”

You flashed her a smile and defrosted your stiff limbs to wrap one arm around her.

“And that’s why I love you so much… bitch.” 

Lavish Italian sunlight spilled onto the marble floors, warming your white-tipped toes. 

You stepped out onto the stone-tiled balcony and caught sight of Maki pushing Mai into the pool, her shrill complaints reaching the third floor of this glamorous villa. Fronds and ivy edged the walls, and the huge private pool would be the scene where Geto and Shoko would profess their lifetime love for each other. In the distance was a small greenhouse which grew the prettiest lilies you had ever seen—a flower native to Tuscany which held a huge meaning for everyone in your entourage.

When you had seen pictures of this gem on AirBnb, the first thing you asked Shoko was how much it cost. Your friend had then waved you off and shared that Geto would be footing most of the expenses—perks of a boyfriend who came from old money.

At least I have my own room to unwind and relax. It was good to have some time alone to yourself before the groom's party came. Shoulders aching and heart racing, you drew in a few deep breaths to centre yourself. 

Mai was splashing water onto Maki, and from somewhere inside the kitchen, you heard Nobara yelling at them to not slip and fall. Chuckling to yourself, you almost didn’t hear a pair of footsteps coming behind you. 

With your hair tousled, dark circles pronounced, and smelling of a 17 hour direct flight, you spun around and met a pair of crystalline ocean-blue eyes. 

They were glazed over with a softness you had not seen for five years, though the same mouth you remembered kissing over and over again was puckered into a smirk. 

Your breath was stolen from you, and it felt like someone had sucker punched you right in the gut. 

Gojo Satoru stood before you in a neatly pressed suit and tie, looking like pure perfection under the warm, orange sunset, the shadows throwing his angular features into greater clarity. 

“Y/N—”

Your feet moved you towards him before your brain could catch up, and he relaxed, as if expecting you to pull him into your embrace and welcome him back after what he did to you. 

The long nights you spent crying, typing up a long paragraph to send to him only to delete it because you were sure he would ghost you—came flashing through your mind. 

Satoru’s smile dissolved bit by bit when he noticed your tensed shoulders and clenched fists. 

“Baby—”

Your palm flew right into face, knocking his smug grin right off. 

“I can’t believe you would do something like this to him!” 

Shoko wanted to sound angry, but you couldn’t take her seriously, not when she was holding a bag of frozen peas and had a flower crown perched on her head.

“One hour. I left you alone for one hour—”

“He started it first,” you muttered hotly, scowling at your throbbing knuckles. 

According to Geto, Satoru had decided to take the earlier flight to surprise Shoko, the both of them having not seen each other for the past two years. But, even the groom had no idea why his best man chose to stumble into your room when Shoko’s was right down the hall. 

You liked to think he was there to spite you. 

Ieiri sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “What exactly did he say?” 

“He called me baby.” 

The silence after your admittance burned hotter than a thousand humiliations. You came to the realisation of your hasty actions the very second those words left your grimacing mouth. 

“And you punched him. Right in the face. For calling you baby?” 

You could tell Shoko was barely holding it together, but in your defence, Gojo Satoru was a 6 foot 3 walking trigger for you. 

“He doesn’t deserve the right to call me that.” 

Shoko’s shoulders dropped a little at the sad note in your confession. 

“Babe… I think it’s high time you try to let this go. Satoru is older now, and—”

“He didn’t even call me,” your whisper ricocheted around the room with the force of an armed squad, drawing the atmosphere right into the war’s heart. Your conflict unfurled like an old, bloodstained scroll, finally revealed for the world to see. Shoko had spent years trying to get you to open up about your fallout with Satoru with little luck. 

This was the first time you were volunteering to give any information without any coercion. 

You clutched your chest with two trembling fists, trying hard not to break eye contact with the floor in case the flood of sorrow collecting at your lash line would break their composure and slide down your cheeks. 

“After I found out about him and Mei Mei… he stopped texting me. He didn’t even come to find me and we live just five minutes away from each other. He—” you broke off, biting down on your lower lip. 

You felt the bed beside you dip, and a pair of calming arms surrounding you.

“He was an ass—I’ll give him that,” Shoko hummed empathetically. “But, you’ve done so much better for yourself now. You’re the Head of Production for Tokyo Today. You have your own apartment. You’re even thinking about adopting a puppy. You’ve got shit going on for you, Y/N, and I’m proud of how much you’ve grown. Don’t let a man from your past—a man like Satoru—make it all feel trivial, okay?” 

You sniffed, nodding weakly. Wiping at your cheeks, you finally summoned enough courage to look up into your best friend’s gentle face. The beauty mark under her right eye always seemed to crinkle more when she smiled, and you adored how sweet it made her look. 

“Thank you, Ieiri.” 

She squeezed your shoulder, standing up. 

“I’ve got to refresh that big, whiny baby’s cold compress, but once I’m done, let’s have a drink, okay?” 

“Could I also have a smoke?” you asked in a timid voice, anticipating her to lecture you on the demerits of a tobacco addiction—never mind the fact that she smoked a pack in a day. 

“Of course,” Shoko said, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. “I’ll let you bum one—on one condition.”

“What?” you asked, suddenly terrified. A million scenarios of blackmail flitted through your mind, and you wished you hadn’t opened your mouth to ask for a smoke, not when you explicitly knew how devious your best friend was. 

But, her next words left you reeling in shock, wishing you could defy her even if it was her wedding week. You could never go through with it—your clenched jaw spoke volumes. 

“Be nice to Satoru.” 

For Shoko, you would try despite it feeling like you were swallowing a vat of poison anytime you looked at him.

You would try because unlike that selfish, white-haired bastard, you would never sacrifice someone else’s happiness just for a shot at your own. 

“Jesus Christ, Satoru, which bridesmaid did you offend now?” 

Yu Haibara’s chirp tone and inoffensive question that was wildly inappropriate at this time was not what the young CEO needed right now. 

He grumbled, pressing the bag of peas to his swollen right eye. Gojo had forgotten how strong of a right hook you had. 

In fact, Gojo Satoru had almost forgotten a lot of things about you. 

From the fall of your hair to how the sunset looked painted across your skin, the foolish skip of his heart was a bigger sign of his crumbling feelings than any other emotion you might have elicited in him. 

When Geto had told him you would be in Tuscany too, as part of Shoko’s bridal entourage, he shamelessly begged his oldest friend to let him be a part of his groomsmen. 

The dark-haired heir had only laughed, sharing that Satoru had taken the words right out of his mouth—he was about to ask Gojo to be his best man anyway. 

But, what Gojo never expected was that stupid slip of endearment to lay waste to his efforts to win you back.

Baby. 

Four characters. One word. A world of meaning he could never forget no matter how much time had passed. 

It brought him back to late night ramen dates around campus. Staying over at your dorm to study hard for exams which he aced effortlessly only because he loved seeing your face scrunched up in concentration. 

Then, the party flashed in his mind. 

The lights were blue. He remembered they were blue. There was a drink in his hand, or maybe he had two. 

A girl was pressed flush to him, seductively grinding her hips over his twitching bulge. 

The alcohol was strong, and it was enough to dull the voices clanging in his head, demanding for him to step away. Put a stop to this before he did something he would regret. 

In his mind’s eye, he liked to imagine someone must’ve told you about his sins. That you didn’t have to watch him bend down and steal another white-haired girl’s lips as she giggled into his mouth. 

That you didn’t hear how he broke down in the emergency room, screaming his head off with blood on his hands.

“Satoru?” 

Suguru’s voice echoed through the tangled mess of his memories. He came back to find a room of men looking at him with varying expressions of curiosity and worry on their faces. 

Plastering on his signature grin, Gojo nodded at Haibara, hearing the tail-end of his comment.

“Tough luck out there for us men, huh? She must not have been too interested in me, but you know what—her loss.” 

He tossed in a cocky smirk for good measure.

Appearances are everything, Satoru—remember that. 

His father’s voice echoed in his mind, unwelcomed and disagreeing with everything Satoru was feeling inside his conflicted chest. He chose to bury the sticky and dangerous emotions six feet under in favour of shrugging, putting on his best, cheerful grin and hoping no one would notice the wavering sheen of wetness glistening in his eyes. 

“Oh shit, I forgot—welcome to Tuscany boys.” 

continuing this series will rely heavily on feedback and reblogs my bad cause if this flops, i'm gonna go ahead and scrap it to focus on other schtuff kthxbye (i sincerely hope with every fiber of my soul that you enjoyed reading this)

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

12:45am — gojo satoru ;

“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.

“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”

“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”

shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."

shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”

“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”

shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.

"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”

“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”

you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”

“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.

you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.

yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.

seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.

with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”

“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"

yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.

your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.

when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.

his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”

“morning. what’s with you?”

gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”

your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”

“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i am.”

you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”

“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”

“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”

“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”

you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”

“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”

you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”

“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"

“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”

gojo leans forward. “yes?”

“crazy.”

he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.

you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”

gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”

“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.

he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.

you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.

the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.

“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.

gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”

“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”

gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.

gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.

“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”

he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”

“yeah?”

“and calm?”

you nod. “more than you, at least.”

“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”

the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”

“oh my god, you do.”

“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”

“you think getou’s great?”

“don’t you?”

“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”

"what are you even saying?"

"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"

baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”

gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”

the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.

“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.

“nothing!”

“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.

getou blinks.

“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”

“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”

“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”

"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."

"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."

you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.

subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.

something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.

you look away hastily and inhale.

gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.

getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”

“nothing.” gojo says.

getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.

gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”

at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.

yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"

“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”

“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”

your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?

slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.

did that mean…?

someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?

you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.

seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.

no, maybe you were wrong after all.

just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.

oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.

gojo has a crush on getou.

filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"

* / MISBEHAVING

— MASTERLIST;

( sukuna x f!reader / gojo x f!reader )

+ to join the taglist: fill this up. (closed for now!!)

summary: after getting kicked to the curb by gojo satoru, you want to give him a taste of his own medicine. the answer? ryomen sukuna. but you get more than you bargained for when you get entangled in both family’s messes.

content warnings: angst + fluff + smut (MDNI), modern au, fake dating, toxic relationships (and families), mentions of abuse/death, everyone in this story is petty in their own way (and i mean very petty), sukuna is mostly a dick (so is gojo), toji is a bad father, everyone here is bad at feelings (sorry!), manipulating/gaslighting, alcohol/cigarettes will be commonly mentioned & included, certain degree of elitism, beware my horrible planning skills + more to be revealed as the chapters go along.

status: ongoing! (click here if you want to read on ao3)

-> flip the pages:

01. prologue: the calm before the storm

02. chapter one: the enemy of my enemy is my (boy)friend

03. chapter two: barking up the wrong zenin tree

04. chapter three: keeping up (fake) appearances

05. chapter four: the monument to all your sins

06. chapter five: two sides to the same coin

07. chapter six: and that’s where love finds you, in the tragedies

08. chapter seven: where there’s smoke, there’s fire (and disaster)

++ more to be updated!

+ notes: please remember—not everything is accurate to real-life situations & all things that happen here are fictional. sukuna doesn’t have tattoos on his face here, just his body and they’re not the same as the manga/anime. titles for unreleased chapters might change because i’m indecisive.

It's another masterpiece I just read this recently and I wished I discovered this sooner the plot and the writing is fuckin great 😔🤌✨ holy shit 👁️👄👁️

pretty thing

Itadori has been having difficulty controlling Sukuna. Desperate, Gojo comes to you for your help; he has already tried to quell the situation, but to no avail. When Sukuna does not cooperate, you are left in a dangerous situation as he threatens your life in hopes of gaining a leverage to use against Gojo: the woman he longs to love.

pairings: f!reader x gojo / f!reader x sukuna

contains: protective gojo, angst, friends to pining lovers (reader/gojo), possessive sukuna (reader/sukuna), pining sukuna (reader/sukuna), hurt/comfort (reader/gojo), captor/captive (sukuna/reader), slow burn but fast (reader/gojo), eventual smut (reader/gojo), NO SPOILERS, NON-CANON EVENTS, its so worth it i promise

warnings: provided for each chapter respectively: threats of rape/non-con (sukuna), slight dub-con (sukuna)

part i

part ii

part iii

part iv (to be announced !)

series taglist [open!]: @bloombb @holychocopie @descargueestoporgojosatoru @smurfflynn @nanaminshousewife @yelzoldyck @reichanyo @the-fandoms-georgie @araragomennnn @ghostly-jar @ladyoutofreality @multistan-247 @senjuasuna @rxs-dump @undertaker-02 @daddyissuesmademe @michibuni @uh-kay-shuh @vv3nti @grim-gal @mizukilia @4den @pulchritxde

! important ! if your user is bolded, i am unable to tag you

Dear Future Me…

in which gojo travels inexplicably to the future

not proofread; enjoy

one minute gojo’s walking on the street, heading over to your house to pick you up for a picnic, on the phone with megumi who’s at the grocery store buying a last minute cake, and one minute he’s…not. a flash of light from the other side of the road, too fast to avoid even with gojos unhumanlike reaction time. hes pushed forwards, or was it backwards, and a cold wind whips around him, making goosebumps form on his arms. and then suddenly, hes back, except things are a little different. take the road for example, seems much too worn out for a road newly paved last week. and your house. its painted a welcoming green, with a cute red door, not the yellow it used to be. theres a new tree in your garden, blossoming flowers gojo knew wasnt there before. his attention turns on the movement of the front door, opening to reveal…you. you look beautiful, but much older than when he last saw you. gojos breath is taken away by how you glow, your smile lighting up the sky, just like it always is. and then, unexpectedly, just as hes about to call out to you, someone walks out the door behind you.

“what the fuck…” gojo mumbles to himself, watching an older, fitter, hotter (if he may say so himself), and possibly wiser gojo walk out of the door and lock it gently, before wrapping an arm around your waist and poking at a yellow bundle you have in your hands. this is a lot for now-gojo, as we must resort to calling him, to take in. he...and you?? and his hand on your waist?? and…and.

“holy shit…” gojo breathes. the yellow bundle is a baby. now-gojo sees that now, as little hands reach out towards your cheeks, and as future gojo lifts it out of the bundle of blankets in your arms and into his chest. the wispy sunlight catches the babys face just as it is tucked into future gojos chest, and its eyes, bright blue like pools of dreams and hope, quite lovely gojo thinks, take all the weight off his shoulders and he breathes a sigh of relief so deep he physically sags down.

when gojo looks up again, he is back on the newly paved street leading up to your house. “…hello? you there?? you havent answered me in like ten minutes. i asked red velvet or cheesecake. you good-“ megumis voice streams from the speaker on gojos phone.

“ye-yeah. yeah. im good megumi. very good actually. splendid. now if i may, i have a visit to pay to someone.”

“not y/n again…” megumi grumbles as his voice fades into nothingness.

gojo smiles, a new pep in his step as he leans forward to knock on your door.

“g’mornin pretty,” he winks at you, “i gotta tell you somethin’. “

MR.STEALYOURGIRL

synopsis; satoru gojo takes his role as your work husband seriously

cw ; unprotected , p in v, pussy eating, cheating, probably spelling errors, minors dni!!!

“no phones we aint even gotta talk”

being satoru's work-wife while you have a whole husband at home was a blessing and a curse. you knew what you were getting yourself into and the consequences that would follow but what doesn't help, is when he forgets his place. all the times he almost got you caught up without a care in the world if your husband found out how he fucks you like an animal in heat during your lunch breaks, business dinners, when you stay after hours to make 'deadlines’. he wants you all to himself and you don't miss the dark look in his eyes every time you tell him to back off when its time for you to go home to your husband.

he doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t know how to please you the way satoru does, hell he doesnt even eat pussy…he doesn’t take the time to buy you flowers or even pretend he’s interested in the things you like anymore. you were emotionally checked out and couldn’t find the so called love you had for your husband anymore and it didn’t take much for you to call satoru over the second your husband left for his work trip overseas.

“fuck your so pretty,” he groaned in your ear softly nibbling on your helix as he rubbed his thumb over your right nipple through your thin nightgown and grinding his clothed erection on your sopping cunt.

“toru’ need you so bad.” you mewled at the way he rolled his hips into you. eagerly grazing your manicured nails over his abs.

“gotta prep you first sweetheart.” he moved to the edge of the bed and pulled you down by your ankles to meet him. strong arms pushing your thighs apart as he littered kisses on your hard clit earning soft moans from you.

he glanced up at you, cerulean eyes glazed over with lust. “look at you already falling apart for me, sweetheart. it’s like your body knows who it belongs to.” pressing a french kiss to your mound, making your breath hitch.

“toru…” you whimpered , hips involuntarily bucking against his face.

“patience, baby. gotta take my time with you. can’t have you thinking he ever had a chance.”

the mention of your husband sending a wave of anxiety through your stomach; but it dissipated the moment satoru’s tongue slipped into your entrance, curling and flicking in ways that had your toes curling.

your head fell back against the comforter under you, fingers threaded in his white locks as he devoured you like a starved man. he didnt let up, sucking and licking until your thighs trembled around his head, the obscene wet sounds filling the room.

“fuck, toru- gonna-“ you start but was cut off by the waves of pleasure that surged through your body, leaving you breathless and arching off the bed.

he pulled back just enough to watch you , his chin glistening with your juices as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “thats my girl. so fucking perfect for me.”

without missing a beat, he stood up, unbuckling his belt. his cock strained against his boxers, the outline making your mouth water.

“lemme remind you why you don’t need anyone but me.” he murmured, leaning down to press a sear kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him.

pulling his boxers down to free himself , your breath hitched at the sight of him—thick, long, and already leaking for you. he gripped the base, teasing the tip along your still-sensitive folds, spreading your slick over his length with a low groan.

“look at you, sweetheart. always so ready for me,” he muttered, his voice rough and dripping with desire. he leaned down, capturing your lips in another deep kiss as he slowly pushed into you, stretching you inch by inch until he bottomed out.

a choked moan escaped your throat, your fingers digging into his biceps as he held still for a moment, savoring the way your walls clenched around him. “fuck, you feel so good… better than i remembered,” he hissed, pulling back slightly before thrusting back in, making you cry out.

just as the rhythm of his hips picked up, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the sound made your eyes snap open, heart pounding as you reached for it, but satoru caught your wrist, pinning it above your head.

“leave it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as he thrust into you harder, making the bed creak beneath you.

“i-i can’t,” you stammered, your voice breathy and trembling. “it’s… my husband.”

his movements stilled for a moment, a dark grin spreading across his face as he glanced at the glowing screen. “perfect timing. answer it.”

“what?” you whispered, panic and arousal swirling in your chest.

“you heard me,” he said, leaning down to nip at your collarbone. “answer it. let’s see how good you are at pretending.”

the phone buzzed again, the vibrations seeming louder in the tense silence. with a shaky hand, you grabbed it, swiping to answer and bringing it to your ear. “h-hello?” you managed, your voice uneven.

“hey, beautiful ,” your husband’s voice came through the line, warm and unsuspecting. “just wanted to check in on you. how’s everything at home?”

satoru smirked, shifting his hips to thrust into you slowly, dragging along your walls in a way that made it nearly impossible to hold back a moan. your free hand flew to his shoulder, nails digging in as you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

“it’s… fine,” you lied, your voice strained as you tried to keep it steady. “everything’s fine. h-how’s your trip?”

“it’s good,” your husband replied, oblivious to the way satoru was rocking into you now, his thrusts deep and deliberate. “just busy, you know how it is. i miss you, though.”

your breath hitched as satoru leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “tell him you miss him too,” he whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement.

“i… i miss you too,” you choked out, your eyes squeezing shut as you fought to keep your composure.

satoru chuckled softly, his pace quickening as he angled his hips to hit that spot that made you see stars. you bit down on your knuckle, desperate to muffle the sounds threatening to escape.

“i’ll be home in a few days,” your husband continued, his tone cheerful. “we should plan a date night or something, just the two of us.”

“y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice trembling as your body tensed beneath satoru’s relentless thrusts. “that… sounds s-so good.”

satoru’s hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that sent shockwaves through your body. your legs trembled as you struggled to hold back the orgasm building deep in your core.

“well, i won’t keep you,” your husband said. “just wanted to hear your voice. i love you.”

satoru’s grin widened as he mouthed the words, say it back.

“i… i love you too,” you whispered, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue as satoru thrust into you one last time, sending you over the edge.

you barely managed to hang up before the phone slipped from your hand, your body shaking with the force of your release. satoru didn’t stop, riding out your orgasm with a smug look on his face.

“good girl,” he purred, leaning down to kiss you softly. “you did so well.”

the phone lay forgotten on the nightstand as he flipped you over onto your stomach, pressing his chest to your back. “now, let’s see how long it takes for you to forget all about him.”

I feel like a lot of people write gojo when he’s being playful or sarcastic but could you write moments where he’s serious or he’s genuinely having a heart to heart with the reader?

yesss i love these concepts! in my opinion i think he’s sexier when he’s more serious because we rarely see that side of himmmm 😛

“i quit.”

satoru froze in the middle of adjusting his jacket, the sound of your voice cutting through the quiet in the room.

he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing as confusion painted his features.

“what?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. his eyes narrowed as he studied your face, trying to make sense of what you just said.

“i quit,” you repeated, your voice steady but quiet.

you were done. done with the constant pressure, the constant fear of what might happen next. done with the world you had found yourself in, a world of curses, jujutsu sorcery, the thought of losing yourself completely, of dying before you even had a chance to live, had become too much to bear.

satoru’s eyes softened, but the confusion never left. “babe… you can’t just quit. not like this. not when things are tough.”

“and why not?” you shot back, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

“why do you think i have to keep doing this? why do i have to keep risking my life, getting dragged into these fights, and walking away with more scars every time? i’m just… tired of almost dying.”

your words hung heavy in the air between you two, and for a moment, the room felt suffocating.

“you’re not the only one who’s tired,” he said softly, but there was a firmness beneath his words that didn’t match the softness of his expression.

he took a step toward you, like he was trying to reach out to you in the only way he knew how. “but quitting isn’t the answer. when things get tough, you don’t just quit.”

he didn’t understand. how could he? he was Satoru Gojo. nothing fazed him. he was invincible, or so it seemed. but you weren’t like him. you didn’t have that same untouchable strength. you were just human, and your body was starting to feel the toll of everything you had been through.

“you wouldn’t understand anyway,” you muttered, barely able to meet his gaze. “i don’t know why i even bothered telling you.”

the words felt like a slap in the face to him, and you immediately regretted saying them. his eyes hardened, but the anger didn’t burn, not the way it normally would when he felt disrespected.

“don’t say that,” he replied, his voice low, almost too gentle.

“i may not understand what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean i don’t care. i’m not gonna let you throw everything away just because it’s hard. if you quit, you’re just letting the world win.”

“maybe that’s what i want,” you shot back, the bitterness slipping out before you could stop it.

“maybe i want to stop fighting. i’m exhausted, satoru. fighting, training, always putting myself in danger for some cause that doesn’t even feel like mine. all i’ve done is survive—barely. and for what? to risk my life over and over again? i’m done.” you exhaled sharply, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill. “i just don’t care anymore.”

satoru’s expression shifted. there was no anger, no frustration anymore, just a deep sadness. he stepped closer, closing the distance between you two until there was barely any space left. he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt.

“i get it,” he said softly, the words so different from the usual brashness of his character. “i get that you’re hurting. but you can’t quit. not like this. not because it’s hard. i won’t let you give up on yourself. i can’t.”

he paused, his thumb gently brushing your skin as his eyes locked onto yours, as if searching for something.

“look, i don’t know what it’s like to be where you are. i don’t know what it feels like to be on the edge of giving up, but i do know this: you matter to me. a lot. and i’ll fight beside you because i care about you. i care about you more than you know.”

the sincerity in his voice cut through you like a knife, and despite yourself, your heart ached.

“i’m not letting you quit,” he continued, his words steady. “if you want to stop fighting, that’s fine. but you’ll have to do it with me. i’m not going anywhere.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the weight of your emotions threatening to break free. you had been so consumed by fear, by exhaustion, that you had almost forgotten the one thing that truly mattered. not the curses, not the missions, but the people who cared about you. and the one person who was always there, even when you tried to shut him out.

you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath. “i just don’t know if i can keep doing this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m scared.”

“i know you are,” he replied, his hand gently cupping your face.

“and that’s okay. but you don’t have to be scared alone. i’m here, and i’m not letting you go through this on your own.“

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. maybe you couldn’t quit. not like this. not when you had someone who would stand by you, even in your darkest moments. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep going.

MUNCH!; satoru gojo

IT WASNT, uncommon for Satoru to get a little handsy when you were relaxing together, but tonight was different. His energy wasn't playful or teasing. He had a certain look in his eye, a spark of mischief and hunger that you hadn't seen in a while.

You were lying on the couch in one of his oversized shirts, scrolling through your phone when he crawled over you, completely ignoring your soft protest.

"Don't mind me," he murmured, voice low and smooth, as he kissed your exposed thigh. "Keep scrolling, baby."

"Uh-huh," you replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he said, feigning innocence as his hands skimmed up your legs, spreading them slightly. "You just look... too good not to touch."

You rolled your eyes but didn't stop him. "Satoru, I swear if this is another one of your games—"

"It's not a game," he interrupted, his lips pressing to your inner thigh now, dangerously close to your center. "Just relax."

Your breath hitched as his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up slightly. His mouth followed, kissing and nipping at your skin with a focus that made your head spin.

"Satoru," you whispered, half in warning, half in anticipation.

He looked up at you then, his crystal-blue eyes darkened with desire. "I just want to taste you," he said simply, his voice a soft plea. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

You couldn't say no to him, not when he looked at you like that.

With a small nod, you leaned back, your heart racing as his lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with praise.

And just like that, he was gone, buried between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as if he couldn't get enough of you. He kissed you there like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted, like you were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

Every flick of his tongue, every hum of satisfaction sent shivers down your spine. He was relentless, refusing to stop even when your hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly in an attempt to pull him away.

"Toru," you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

"Mm?" he replied, the vibration of his voice against you making your toes curl.

"You're- you're such a munch," you managed to say, your words broken by a moan.

He chuckled, his eyes flicking up to meet yours briefly. "And I'll be your munch forever," he said with a smirk, diving back in like a man starved.

It wasn't long before he had you trembling, your back arching off the couch as he worked you over like it was his life's mission. And when you finally came undone, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, he didn't stop, he just held you tighter, savoring every moment like the insatiable man he was.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his grin was nothing short of triumphant.

"Yeah," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "I'm definitely a munch. But only for you."

You couldn't even argue, too dazed to do anything but pull him up for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips as he chuckled against your mouth.

"You're insufferable," you muttered.

"And you love it," he shot back, his voice full of smug affection.

playing match-maker with professor!gojo satoru [prev]

Dr. Gojo Satoru added Prof. Shoko Ieiri to Cupids <3

Dr. Gojo Satoru: Sho where are you taking your lunch today? You: Eat with us in Gojo’s lab!

Prof . Getou Suguru emphasized your message

Prof. Shoko Ieiri: …why? Dr. Gojo Satoru: colleague bonding time! Prof. Shoko Ieiri: what’s the catch? You: Why does there have to be a catch T-T Prof. Getou Suguru: Join us, and we’ll accompany you to that meditation class taught by the cute brunette you’ve been drooling over.

Dr. Gojo Satoru laughed at a message

Prof. Shoko Ieiri: yeah alright

Shoko appears in the doorway of Gojo’s lab shortly after agreeing to join. Her white lab coat flutters as she strides in, a fitted blue shirt tucked into black pin-striped slacks. She plops her brown bag onto the table beside you, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder, and extracts a sandwich and an apple.

Across from you, Gojo sits perched at his desk, leaning back with his legs crossed atop the surface. His usual smug determination is evident, highlighted by his untouched strawberry cheesecake yogurt. His white turtleneck peeks above the collar of his lab coat, accentuating the icy hue of his hair and brows.

Unfortunately, spending so much time with Gojo means you are beginning to mirror him in subtle (and sometimes regrettable) ways. Today’s shared wavelength is your matching outfits—both of you in white turtlenecks and brown straight-leg slacks. Though, judging by the label on his, the price tags aren’t even close.

Getou, seated on a stool to your other side, shakes his salad container, the silver hem of his cardigan shimmering under the fluorescent light. A stray strand of hair falls across his face, and he tucks it behind his ear before turning to Shoko, who silently munches on her sandwich.

“So,” Getou begins, smirking, “we’re just going to ignore how quickly the promise of getting near your little hippie crush convinced you?”

Gojo snickers and Shoko shoots Getou a glare.

“She’s not a hippie,” Shoko retorts, wiping her mouth. “Meditation is a holistic approach with spiritual and health benefits. What do you guys even want from me? Gojo, you don’t eat lunch on campus—ever. The café staff down the road probably know you better than your students.”

You chime in. “Important business, Shoko. Gojo and I are working on a project requiring the intellectual brilliance of like-minded individuals.”

Getou nods solemnly. Shoko laughs.

“Thank god you entertain him,” she says. “Back when my pre-med lab was next to his, he wouldn’t stop dragging me into his ridiculous schemes. You’ve saved me countless headaches.”

Gojo grabs a stress ball from his desk and lobs it at her. Shoko deflects it with her elbow, the ball bouncing to the floor.

“You’re so mean,” Gojo pouts. “Anyway, you’re here to confirm my theory that first-years Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara are the ideal match.”

Shoko groans. “Of course I am. Let me guess—you two,” she points at you and Getou, “think Itadori and Fushiguro Megumi are a better match.”

You nod eagerly.

“Well,” she sighs, leaning back, “considering Gojo’s total lack of social awareness, I’d normally side with you two. But…Gojo, are you positive that you can concretely back your theory?”

Gojo stands, pacing dramatically. “Is an atom that’s lost its electron considered positive?”

“I think you’re saying yes?” you guess.

“Exactly!” Gojo snaps his fingers, grinning triumphantly.

Shoko, ever the pragmatist, pulls out her phone. “Fine. This semester, I’m teaching those three in Health & Wellness. Let me show you something.”

She scrolls through her phone and finally finds a video. “Yuji and Nobara worked together on a group project. Watch this.”

00:03 =⬤--------------------------- 01:17 

⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻ 

[The video begins, revealing Yuji and Nobara squeezed together in the frame, their smiles radiant. Nobara playfully elbows Yuji, whose eyes widen in mock shock before he starts speaking.]

Yuji: “Hello, Sensei! Nobara and I finished the group assignment together and decided to try something totally out of our comfort zone. Actually, it’s something we’ve joked about before because it sounded ridiculous.”

[He stifles a laugh, running a hand through his pink hair, the short strands standing on end.]

Yuji: “We went to a local teaching farm and did… goat yoga. We’ve seen the posters on campus forever, so we thought, why not? It was a blast! The goats were fun, and hanging out with Nobara was great too!”

Nobara: “Yeah! Honestly, I was kind of nervous at first. It’s not easy convincing a goat to climb on your back during yoga poses. But once they did, their little hooves felt like a mini massage. Here—look!”

[She lifts a photo into the frame, holding it close to the camera. The image comes into focus: Yuji in a shaky downward dog pose on a yoga mat, Nobara beside him coaxing a tiny goat onto his back with a piece of hay. Nobara bursts out laughing and shakes the photo.] 

Nobara: “Haha! Right after this, the goat climbed off Yuji and—get this—it started peeing. Like, it barely missed his pants! He’s so lucky he didn’t get soaked.”

[Yuji yelps, shoving her shoulder while Nobara doubles over, her laughter echoing. Grinning through his embarrassment, Yuji snatches the camera, bringing it close to his face.]

Yuji: “Okay, Sensei, I’m cutting this off. Nobara’s having way too much fun at my expense. But yeah, aside from that one… incident, it was really fun. I’d totally do it again!”

[His hand covers the lens, and the screen fades to black.] 

01:17 =================⬤ 01:17

⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

Shoko lowers her phone, pressing it to her lips as if lost in thought.

“Sorry, you two. After watching that again, I’m siding with Gojo on this. Look at them—they’re glowing. If someone made me laugh and smile like that, I’d be completely done for.”

Getou scoffs, muttering something about how that explains why Shoko’s “so giggly after meditation.”

You shush him, trying to keep things light.

“Alright, that makes it 2-3. But you know who else teaches those three? Professor Haibara. We have to ask him.”

Before long, Haibara Yu strolls into Gojo’s lab, looking as disheveled as ever. His charcoal slacks are slightly wrinkled, his pale pink shirt untucked, and his silver glasses sit crooked on his nose.

“You called—Oh! Everyone’s here! Hi!” he exclaims, spreading his arms wide in greeting.

Getou, ever efficient, disposes of his salad container and slings an arm over Haibara’s shoulder.

“Hey, Yu. Quick question: as their professor, do you think Yuji and Megumi would make a good match?”

Haibara blinks, caught off guard. “As in… romantically?”

When Getou nods, Haibara rubs the back of his neck, thinking.

“Well, they’re in my History of the Samurai class, and let me tell you, they’re my most enthusiastic students. On the first day, I asked what everyone already knew about samurai. Yuji and Megumi practically bolted to the board and started writing a list of skills they’ve practiced together.”

He grabs a marker and writes neatly on the whiteboard:

Samurai Fighting Basics – Megumi & Yuji

• Iaido: Drawing & Sheathing Iaitō • Kenjutsu: Bokken Stances & Striking • Kendo: Shinai Quick Attacks

“They even demonstrated some techniques right there in class,” Haibara says with a grin, his thick bangs falling into his eyes. “It’s obvious they’re close and share so many interests. Honestly, I ship it!”

The room erupts into chaos as everyone starts debating further. The argument rages on until Gojo’s next class begins trickling in, scattering the group with reluctant promises to continue later.

During your own lesson, as your students take turns popcorn-reading poetry, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Dr. Gojo Satoru: Hey, I just remembered. We’re facilitating that student union meeting today. We can totally ask the upperclassmen for their opinions!

You sigh, typing back a quick response.

You: Fine. Get back to teaching, Gojo.

When you woke up this morning, you definitely didn’t expect to be holed up in an empty classroom, grilling the Student Union’s elite members one by one about your matchmaking drama. Yet here you are, derailing their bi-weekly brainstorming session for fund allocation. To justify your antics, you and Gojo promised them unwavering financial support—if they gave you honest answers.

First up is Vice-President Okkotsu Yuta, his usual warm demeanor making him an ideal candidate for candid feedback. Sitting across from him, you can’t help but notice how he smiles sheepishly, like he’s trying to soften whatever he’s about to say.

“This probably won’t help much,” Yuta begins, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I’m ninety percent sure Maki likes Nobara. I mean, I can really see it, so I propose… NobaMaki.”

You and Gojo exchange a look, equally unimpressed. Without a word, you call in the next person.

Secretary Inumaki Toge is next. Sassy and loyal, he takes his seat across from you with a raised brow, clearly amused by the situation. After you explain the debate, he listens intently before lifting his hands to sign his response.

“I don’t know about Megumi and Yuji,” Toge signs carefully, his fingers precise, “but if you’re suggesting Nobara and Maki, I’ve got news: I’ve heard Maki and Yuta are actually a thing.”

You freeze mid-follow-up, fumbling for the signs to convey “suggest” and “imply.” Gojo swoops in, translating seamlessly. Of course, he’s fluent—he picked up sign language quickly after the two of you agreed to learn for Toge’s sake.

“Well,” you mutter, leaning back in your chair. “That cleared up absolutely nothing.”

Finally, you summon President Zenin Maki. Confident and direct, she strides in with her arms crossed, rectangular glasses reflecting the fluorescent lights. Her thick lashes peek over the frames as she narrows her eyes at you.

“What now?” she snaps, cutting right to the chase. “Me and Yuta? Seriously? Look, you didn’t hear this from me, but since we’re dragging Yuta into this—Toge likes him. So there’s that.”

Maki turns on her heel and marches out, her ponytail swishing with every sharp step.

Gojo groans dramatically and leans his head on your shoulder, the soft tips of his snowy-white hair brushing your cheek.

“This is just getting more ridiculous,” he says, voice muffled against your arm. “Everyone’s in love with someone else. What the fuck?”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Careful not to disturb Gojo, who’s still sulking on your shoulder, you retrieve it.

Prof. Nanami Kento Can you return my projector tomorrow morning? I need it for my lesson. Thank you kindly. Also, I hear you and Gojo are still sniffing around where you don’t belong. Just a word of advice: being messy usually leads to more mess. Good luck cleaning it all up.

You sigh, sliding your phone back into your pocket. Nanami’s right, of course. But does that mean you’ll stop? Absolutely not.

insp by @r4yz-4u's comment !

Imagine that ex-husband Gojo is baffled by you giving him the cold shoulder upon your return from your romantic getaway with his replacement.

As far as he knew, Satoru didn't bother you or anyone else (except Suguru) about his grief over this trip whatsoever. So why were you upset with him? Why aren't you back happy, well-rested, glowing, possibly with a ring? (Even if that last one would've broken Satoru for good.)

"Hey, did you-- Where'd she go?" Satoru popped his head into a classroom at the Kyoto school where he'd just finished a meeting. As soon as he opened his mouth, you took off out of the room's other door. Sen looks up unimpressed while his friends give each other a dubious look.

"That's her business," he grumbles.

You'd been dodging him for going on two weeks now and while Satoru's always had an unbreakable spirit, he was beginning to think that he should leave you well enough alone. Even after the divorce, you never avoided him like this.

Sen watches his father's face fall and morph into genuine sorrow.

'He doesn't deserve her anyway.' Sen reminds himself over and over again. Satoru mumbles an apology and turns to leave.

Hikari Higuruma and Naoki Zenin both kick him under their desks.

"Come on, man," Nao murmurs.

"Say something!" Hikari hisses.

Both of Sen's friends are the type to respond to "will you help me hide a body?" with "yeah, what snacks should I bring and how many shovels do we need?" With that in mind, their disapproval in this scenario seriously puts the situation into perspective for Sen. That, and he thinks his mother stands to lose the most if he doesn't speak up.

'Dammit,' Sen thinks to himself.

"Dad!" he barks. Satoru must've truly been deep in thought when the sharp crack of his son's voice is enough to make him jump. He turns and Sen leans back in his chair, trying to look nonchalant.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Sen says before thinking of a caveat. "This time." He may not know the details, but Sen at least knows you well enough that whatever happened on your couples' retreat had nothing to do with anything Satoru did.

Satoru looks hopeful. "Then what's--"

"Didn't I just say that's her business?" Sen snaps. "Go ask her if it's so important!" Satoru affords his son a small smile. There's a nonzero chance that he spoke up out of pity, but Satoru is sure the majority of Sen's motivation was for your sake. If there's anything without doubt in this world, it's Sen's love for you.

"Right." Satoru tosses a green packet to his son, who easily catches it in one hand. "Thanks anyway, kiddo!" Good thing he grabbed a pack of chocorooms the last time he was at the train station.

As Satoru leaves, Hikari snatches the pack from Sen.

"Oh, I fuck with these," she says, tearing the bag open.

Nao reaches over. "Hand those over!"

"No way, you're too slow!"

"Those are literally mine."

"Get off!"

Satoru smiles. His son was never as lonely as he was growing up and he never would be as long as those two were around.

Imagine ex-husband Gojo hearing your soft sniffles from inside a random storage closet. He hasn't seen or heard you cry in, what, fifteen years?

He softly taps on the door. "Hi," he murmurs.

The sniffling immediately stops as you contemplate the likelihood of him going away. But you know him like you know yourself and even if you don't let him inside the closet, he'd sit down and wait by the door until you're ready. And if you don't talk to him after that, he'd walk you home. And if you were silent the whole way home, he'd keep his mouth shut until you were ready.

And that just about sums up the kind of person your husband is.

Ex-husband. Fuck.

You reach out and unlock the door, which Satoru takes as his cue to come in and shut it behind him. Normally, he'd cup your face in his hands like you were the most precious thing in the world (you are, as far as he's concerned) and wipe your tears with his thumbs, but he can't do that now because you've been avoiding him for a while now and you may or may not be engaged to someone else.

"This is my own fuck up, Satoru," you tell him with a big sniffle. You try to collect yourself before tears start to fall again. Putting your face in your hands, you tell him, "You don't need to comfort me. This is my own fault."

Satoru takes your hands in his. He doesn't feel a ring and he hates himself for feeling hopeful about that.

"Did he propose?" he asks as neutrally as he can.

You rest your forehead against his chest. "He might as well have. He offered me a promise ring. It was beautiful. I couldn't have designed a better one myself."

Saying it out loud make the guilt even heavier.

Satoru isn't afraid of much, but he is afraid to ask, "And?"

"And." You purse your lips and he deserves eye contact right now, but you don't have the strength. "I couldn't accept it."

Satoru's heart skips a beat and he curses himself for it. But even he's taking aback. The perfect man just served himself to you on a silver platter and you said no?

"Oh," is all he can say.

You reply, "Yeah. Oh."

"Why?" he can't help but ask.

"Satoru, you know why."

"I promise you I don't."

It takes a moment for you to figure out how you want to say this, but you settle for short version.

"It's just." You breathe in his scent, as familiar to you as your own. He smells like coming home after a long trip and while hotels and AirBNBs and temporary homes may be nice and have all the luxuries, nothing beats returning to the space you cultivated for yourself. "Every day I'm not your wife is the worst day of my life. So no, I couldn't promise myself to someone else. And I feel like a bad person because I went on this trip knowing that there was a possibility he'd ask to make us official and I went anyway, and you know what he said to me after I said no?"

"What?" Satoru breathes out. His mind is still reeling from the first thing you said. About how much you hated not being his wife. And now all he could think about is that from the moment the word 'divorce' left your mouth all those years ago, he'd been sleepwalking through life sustained only by the brief moments he got to see you or hear of you or be reminded of you.

You fist your hands in his shirt. "He told me it was ok. That I don't owe him anything and he'll always cherish our time together." You shake your head miserably. "I never deserved him. There's no version of me that ever will, but I just can't be with him."

Satoru doesn't move. He'd let go of your hands when you grabbed his shirt and his hands now hang limply at his sides. He stands so still that it's like he hasn't even heard you.

It may not seem like it in the moment, but your ex-husband always found the right words. From the first, "you look like crap" to the wedding vows he spent months on and ended up going off script anyways, he always knew just what to say.

As the silence stretched on, you grew increasingly uncomfortable. There was never any doubt that Satoru loved you, but now that you've said something you can't take back, has he realized how the eventual heartache wasn't worth it in the end? At some point, has he realized that maybe you were just never meant to be?

"Satoru?" you ask in a small voice.

Rather than using insufficient words for the feeling of joy and relief beyond comprehension, Satoru wordlessly reaches into his shirt and pulls out a chain. On it hangs his wedding ring, yours, and your engagement ring.

In the weeks after the divorce, you tried to give your engagement and wedding ring back to him. He didn't accept them at first, telling you they're yours and always would be, but one day, he came to work and found them sitting on his desk. He exorcised 37 curses that day.

You huff a laugh. "You keep those on you?"

The storage closet you're in is small, smells mildly of bleach and strongly of dirt, and the light fixture hands so low Satoru has to stoop to not bang his head. His elbow knocks over a mop and the bucket its in, which causes a chain reaction of falling cleaning supplies, but he ignores it all to awkwardly fit himself onto one knee.

Satoru unclasps the chain and slides your engagement ring off. Your hands fly to your mouth and to him, you look even more beautiful than you did the first time he asked. Your cheeks aren't as full, you look more world-weary, but your eyes still shine as bright and you'll always be you, and for that, Satoru could never love anyone else the way he loved you. Not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

Satoru slides his blindfold up and it sits in his hair messily. "Maybe you don't think you deserve him, but if I could just be selfish this one time." He has to swallow to keep his voice steady. "I'd ask if you'd be willing to settle for me, who doesn't deserve you. Because I love you and I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy."

Your tears fall freely as he takes your left hand in his.

"If that's enough, then I hope you'll accept this as a promise ring. That I'll take it slow and I'll respect your boundaries and you can back out at any time." He winks. "And that I'll get you a new engagement ring when the time comes."

It's like you've just walked through the threshold of your home after ages away. Breathed in your scent. Taken in all the decor you've collected while living there.

"You've spent a really long time hung up on the same girl, Satoru," you laugh wetly.

Satoru grins. "You don't get it. She's a really special girl. No one compares. So, what do you say? I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

And what else are you supposed to say? That's Your Man.

Hello, loves, I just moved from one end of the U.S. to the other and moved away from my parents for work. I lived in the same house in the same bedroom for 24 years, and it's been hard, so I haven't been writing, but here is the most emotional installment I've written of any fic ever. I hope you enjoy.

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

An "Accidental" Encounter

[INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY]

Gojo stands at one end of a small table, leaning over a set of unorganized papers. Nine-year-old Megumi sits on the opposite side, arms crossed, his face a mixture of skepticism and confusion.

Gojo (slamming his hand on the table, leaning forward energetically): Okay, let’s review the plan! A block down the street, there’s a charming little French café called “Le Café du Jardin.” At the first outdoor table, there will be a beautiful lady named “Reader.” Reader visits the café every Sunday at exactly 3:30 PM to read and to drink herbal tea. She doesn’t know me—yet—but you, my dear Megumi, are going to help us become acquainted.

Megumi (frowning, leaning back slightly in his chair): Wait a second... If this “Reader” doesn’t know you, then… How exactly do you know her schedule?

Gojo (pausing):… That is not important.

He straightens up, gesturing with his hands.

Gojo (with a wide grin): What is important is that you’re going to help me get her cell phone number.

Megumi (raising an eyebrow skeptically): And how exactly am I supposed to do that?

Gojo (clapping his hands together): Simple! Just repeat what is written in this script.  You’re going to walk up to Reader and say…

He gestures at Megumi expectantly. 

Megumi (dryly, deadpan): Hello, Miss Reader. I think my guardian is stalking you. He says he’ll force me to sleep in the streets until I bring him your cell phone number.

Gojo (becoming frustrated): Nooo! Absolutely not!  You ran away from home because you didn’t want to eat your damn vegetables and got lost! Come on Megumi, I spent all night working on this! 

Megumi (pauses to read Gojo’s notes): You actually put effort into writing this rubbish? I think I prefer to spend my day off playing outside. 

Megumi gets up to leave but Gojo quickly moves to block the door with his body. Gojo kneels down to Megumi's height and places a hand on Megumi's shoulder .

Gojo (pauses for a moment then begins to speak in an overly sweet tone): You know Megumi…  In some countries, children are visited by a magical fairy that will leave them gifts in exchange for their baby teeth. Sometimes when children help out their mommies and daddies, the fairy will reward them with extra gifts! If you help me out, I’m sure the fairy will reward you with ¥500 ! 

Megumi: … I don’t know if I should be more offended by; that you think that I’m dumb enough to believe in the Tooth Fairy, or that I can be bought with just ¥500. 

Gojo: Oh come on Megumi can’t you help me out please? I’ll pay you ¥5,000 for your trouble. 

Megumi: You better make it ¥10,000. 

Gojo (Starting to get frustrated): Seriously?! I let you live here for free! You should want to help out of gratitude! You know what? Maybe I should make you sleep outside! 

Megumi: Fine! I'll just go camping in the backyard until  CPS arrives! 

Gojo (Rubs his temples in annoyance): Dear God why do you have to make this so difficult? How about I pay you….  ¥7,500 and I let you stay up past your bedtime for a whole week? 

Megumi: ….. Fine, I'll do it for ¥7,500! So I go up to this girl named Reader and then what? 

Gojo: Then you’re going to ask Reader if you can use her cell phone to call your amazing uncle Satoru. While you’re waiting for me to arrive, you’ll casually tell her how incredibly attractive I am. 

Megumi (Looking him up and down): You’re attractive? I’m not sure I follow…

Gojo: Of course I’m attractive! I’m tall, handsome, rich, mature, virtuous, and incredibly humble. Oh, and don’t forget to mention that I’m single!

Megumi (deadpan, tilting his head slightly): Well, I’ll give you “tall,” but I’m not so sure about being humble or virtuous…

Gojo (slightly offended): What are you talking about? I’m practically a saint!

Megumi (narrowing his eyes): Right…. Except last month you killed a guy for scratching your car and then drew dicks on his face. Last week you change the men's and women's bathroom signs... Then there was that time you went into angry drunken rage over not being able to nominate yourself for a Nobel Peace Prize…. 

Gojo freezes, his confident grin faltering. He squints suspiciously at Megumi.

Gojo : … And you are not going to mention a single word of that to anyone especially to Reader!

Megumi glances out the window, ignoring Gojo’s theatrics.

Megumi (dryly): It looks like it’s going to rain. Can I at least have an umbrella?

Gojo (waving him off, shaking his head): No, no, no! You’ll look more sympathetic if you’re wet.

He pauses, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Gojo (suddenly inspired and snapping his fingers): Actually, let’s rub some hot sauce in your eyes to make you cry! It’ll make you look more pitiful! 

Megumi stares at him, utterly unamused. He leans forward, resting his head in his hands.

[EXT. LE CAFÉ DU JARDIN – LATE AFTERNOON]

The busy sounds of the street quiet down a bit as Megumi walks up to a small, picturesque café. He stops at an outdoor table where a young woman, Reader, is engrossed in a book. A hot cup of tea sits next to her. Megumi pauses for a moment, then lightly tugs on her sleeve. 

Megumi (quietly, almost timidly): Excuse me, Miss…

Reader looks up from her book, her gaze soft but curious.

Reader (smiling kindly): Yes?

Megumi (looking down slightly, his voice steady but polite): Can I please borrow your phone? I need to call for a ride home.

Reader’s expression softens even more. Without hesitation, she picks up her phone and hands it to him.

Reader (warmly): Of course.

Megumi takes the phone, glancing up at her briefly before dialing. His expression is calm, but there’s a flicker of guilt in his eyes. As he presses the call button, he meets her gaze directly.

Megumi (sincerely, voice low): I just want to say beforehand, I’m really sorry that I have to drag you into this.

Reader looks slightly confused. The phone barely rings once when—

Gojo (practically materializing out of thin air, loudly and dramatically): Fushiuro-chan!!!!

Reader jumps slightly in her seat as Gojo rushes up, arms outstretched. He picks up Megumi in a constrictive hug and begins spinning the small boy in circles. 

Gojo (buries his face into Megumi’s hair): I’ve been so worried about you! You should know better than to run away like that. 

Megumi (gasping for air and trying to break hold of Gojo’s hold.): Can’t breathe! 

Gojo pretends to just notice the reader and carelessly drops Megumi on the ground. He straightens up, bowing slightly toward Reader with an apologetic look that’s more charming than sincere. Megumi starts gasping noisily for air. Reader looks a little startled but doesn't say anything.

Gojo: Thank you so much for watching over him, Miss! I hope my boy hasn’t caused you any trouble. 

Reader: Oh, not at all. He’s been very polite. 

Gojo (looking overly emotional): You’re too kind! Let me introduce myself—my name is Gojo Satoru, and this is my ward, Megumi Fushiguro.

Reader (hesitates for a moment, then shakes his hand): It’s nice to meet you.

Gojo doesn't let go of the reader's hand and instead interlaces his fingers with hers.

Gojo (voice dropping to a sympathetic tone): Thank you for being so understanding. I’ve recently adopted Megumi-kun after he was abandoned by his abusive father.

Megumi (frowning): But I have never been abu—

Before Megumi can finish, Gojo kicks Megumi's shin.

Megumi (winces, staggering slightly as his eyes begin to water from the pain): …!

Reader untangles her hand from Gojo and stares at Megumi with a look of concern. Gojo quickly swoops in, wrapping an arm around Megumi’s shoulders as if to comfort him.

Gojo (gently wipes away Megumi’s tears): It’s okay Fushiguro-chan. You don’t have to hold back your emotions anymore.

Megumi freezes, his eyes narrowing dangerously as Gojo leans in closer.

Gojo (voice voice dripping with fake sympathy): Do you remember what your therapist said? It’s okay to cry!

Megumi’s eyebrow twitches, his face a mixture of pain, anger, and annoyance. Reader watches the interaction, looking torn between sympathy and confusion.

Reader (softly): I … didn’t realize you were going through so much, Fushiguro-chan.

Megumi (gritting his teeth, barely keeping his composure): I’m fine.

Gojo (starts aggressively ruffling Megumi’s hair and smiles at the reader): Isn’t he brave? I’m just so proud of him.

Reader smiles back awkwardly.

Gojo (lowering his voice, feigning deep compassion): Shhh… I know you’re still trying to cope with your deadbeat father trying to sell you after your mom tragically passed away.

Reader’s eyes widen slightly, and she leans forward, visibly shocked. Gojo continues, unbothered.

Gojo (earnestly, with a hint of dramatic flair): Just because your father didn’t want you doesn’t mean you aren’t loved! I care about you, and I know you’re nothing like your father. Your father was a jerk. He deserved to die in that explosion. But don’t worry! I’m doing my best to be the father figure you need.

Megumi’s jaw clenches as he stares at Gojo, practically vibrating with restrained irritation. Gojo ignores Megumi and gazes wistfully at the reader.

Gojo: And maybe, one day, I’ll fall in love with a kind lady who can be the motherly figure you deserve.

Megumi (gritting his teeth, voice sharp): Why do you feel the need to share my personal life with others?!

Megumi looks like he’s about to explode, but before he can, Reader gently pats his back. Her touch is light and hesitant but kind.

Reader (softly) : It’s okay, Fushiguro-chan. 

Gojo (earnestly): Fushiguro-chan is not a bad child, I swear! It’s just that he’s been through so much… Living on the streets for so long has left him traumatized. Poor Fushiguro-chan is such a sweet and well-behaved kid, but sometimes he forgets that he now has a loving home. I’m doing the best I can to raise him as a single parent, but there’s only so much I can do as a humble bachelor. It’s only thanks to kind-hearted angels like you that he has any hope left for humanity. Please… let me take you out to dinner tonight to thank you for saving my poor boy!

Reader looks surprised, glancing between Gojo and Megumi.

Megumi (calmly): Am I invited to this dinner as well?

Gojo deadpans at him.

Gojo: No. I only made a reservation for two people. 

Megumi (sighing): Fine. But how am I supposed to get home? I’m lost, remember?

Gojo: Oh, yeah I almost forgot about that....

Gojo starts digging through his pockets, pulling out random coins and counting them in his palm.

Gojo: Let’s see… okay, here’s ¥155. There’s a bus station about five blocks south of here that you can take to get home. There are leftovers in the fridge and don’t stay up too late. 

Megumi (staring at the coins, unimpressed): Hey wait a moment, where’s the other ¥7,345?

Reader: If money is the problem, I have no issue with giving  Fushiguro-kun a ride home. Also there is no need to treat me to dinner. 

Gojo: Oh don’t worry about Fushiguru-kun. Earlier today I was telling Fushiguro-kun that the tooth fairy often leaves money to boys and girls who are extra good. 

Megumi and Gojo make eye contact with each other as a silent agreement is made between the two of them.

Megumi (Starts to walk away): Actually I just remembered how to get home from here. Also don’t worry about Gojo Miss Reader. He can be eccentric at times but he’s harmless…

Gojo: Make sure to brush your teeth and don’t stay up too late! Anyhow there is an upscale restaurant that just opened up and … *continues to babble* 

Reader starts to tune out Gojo and a chuckle escapes her lips as can’t help but feel entertained with the events that just unfolded in front of her. A small grin forms on Gojo’s face, satisfied with his plan’s outcome. 

Note from the author: I just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to read my little creation. This short story was originally inspired by the Gojo x reader story “Trouville Limerence,” by the Tumblr user pthalogreenwriter (hopefully they will log back into their account one day and read this!) I originally wrote this I wanted to encourage them to continue writing  their story so I created a parody script of the events that could potentially happen after their third chapter. I was having so much fun writing the parody, that I decided to turn it into a short story. If this short gains enough attention, I might repost the story later on in a properly written story format. I also want to extend a special thanks to Bella @izabella_ray and Athena M @arriane_li from Fiverr for helping me edit my script and to anyone else who gave me feedback! 

౨ৎ megumi's mom

A/N: cross-posted from my smut book on wattpadd/a03. Hahaha, two for two for posting; this is a streak. This is just some indulgence and lowkey inspired by something I read on a03, <3.

WARNING: p in the v, cunnilingus, oral sex (female receiving), no condom we fuck raw, fondling, fingering, dinner room sex, we freakkahh. not proofread lol

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x milf!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2768

Gojo Satoru had never been the type to get too involved in his students' personal lives. He was a teacher, a mentor, and sometimes, a nuisance to them—but with Megumi, things had always been different. He had been through a lot of things, he was tough, independent, and smart, so it wasn't odd for Satoru to help him, guide him—not as a student but he really did care about Megumi.

-And that is how he ended up in your living room,

You had invited him over for dinner as a thank you for looking out for your son, Megumi, and honestly, Gojo wasn't going to turn down a free meal and you...

You were Megumi's mom. You were effortlessly beautiful—the kind of woman who didn't have to try. The way you talked to him with warmth in your voice, not to mention the large assets you had, the way your apron curved your bosom—it made it better that you were divorcee, meaning you were single and ready to date, maybe...

He was so down bad.

"So..gojo" you said, placing a plate in front of him as you took a seat across from him, "You've been really looking out for Megumi all these years, and I really appreciate it a lot" You smiled, clasping your hands,

Gojo leaned back in his chair, flashing you one of his infamous easy-going grins on his face, he couldn't lie the way you said his name made his heart skip a beat, "Ah—don't mention it. The kid is practically family at this point" Gojo glanced at Megumim who gave him a deadpan stare before continuing his meal.

"I just hope he's not giving you a hard time," you said, you glanced at Megumi whose attention was focused on his plate.

"Oh, he's a little menace" Gojo teased, watching as Megumi scowled, "—But I don't mind, he's got potential"

You won't lie, the tenderness of his voice as he spoke made your chest tighten—he wasn't being just nice, but—he genuinely meant it.

The dinner continued, it was just some casual conversation between you and him, and Megumi just finished his dinner, then excused himself, muttering something about homework.

"You know..for someone who is strong, you're pretty soft with him" you mused, taking a sip of your wine in your glass, Gojo chuckled, resting his chin in his palm as he looked at you, "What can I say? He's got a great mom" 

God..

You shouldn't have been looking at him like that—you cleared your throat at the obvious flirtatious comment,

Gojo was sitting across from you, a relaxed, cocky smirk playing on his lips. His silver-white hair was slightly tousled like he hadn't tried to fix it before showing up. His blindfold was off, with some damn eyes—blue eyes, fixed on you. You couldn't help but look away, as you focused on the wine glass in your hand, 

maybe you had too much to drink—you were always a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

It had been years since you really dated after Toji...walked out of your life—leaving you with Megumi, a broken home, and wound that just never healed right. The divorce had been messy, it was just filled with treatment and exhaustion—you tried telling yourself you were better off without him, that just managed to survive the worst and you would be the best mom to Megumi. Love was just nothing, only a fleeting illusion for the eyes, and the heart. But there were some nights, that you were in your bed, staring at the empty side of where he used to sleep,

now your eyes were on your glass, gojo was different, yea? He is different than Toji, he is playful, infuriating, and ridiculous—he talks too much, teases you, and—really cares about Megumi more than his own father did, you bit your lip

you started seeing him differently, you blinked, oh god—you were staring at him he whole time...you felt cheeks heating up 

"Hey," Gojo's voice cut through your thoughts, light and amused. "You zoned out on me? You looked real deep in though just now."

You parted your lips, "I was just... thinking about how much Megumi has changed" you voice softer than you intended, you chose your words carefully, "You've been really good to him" 

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with those blue eyes, "Well—I take my job as  his annoyingly cool teacher very seriously"

You huffed quietly, shaking your head, "I mean it, Gojo...you didn't have to go out of your way for him, but you did" At that moment you felt something inside of you crack, you felt your throat tightening—the weight of everything in your life, the years of doing this alone, of carrying the burden of raising a child alone, while feeling you had no one to lean on—you inhale sharply,

Your fingers trembling with your glass, you felt warm tears slipping down your cheeks, you turned your face away quickly, pressing the heels of your palm against your eyes, embarrassed, "God—I'm sorry" you choked out, a watery laugh escaping your lips,

 "I don't even know...why i-"

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then Gojo was right by your side, crouching beside you, closer to you.

 He didn't speak right away, no jokes just stared at you, 

"You don't have to do this alone, y'know" his voice was quieter, and you felt his hand brushing your cheek, you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain control of your breathing, the warmth of his voice—the quiet sincerity of his words just unraveled you.

"I'm sorry, I have just been doing this alone, for so long" you whispered, your fingers curled against your lap, you didn't why you were saying this to him, as you tried to wipe your tears away, breathing out. 

Gojo just nodded, sighing out, rubbing the back of his neck before he spoke again, softer this time, "Yeah...I figured.."

You let out a weak, watery laugh, "Of course you did" 

Gojo smiled—small, but real. He didn't try to tell you that everything as fine, or that you were strong—or that you didn't need to cry. You wiped your eyes, sniffling, "Gosh, I'm sorry I probably look like a mess"

Gojo tilted his head, "Nah..just a little damp, kinda cute actually"

You scoffed at these playful words, rolling your eyes, your lips twitched upwards, "God, you really can't help yourself, can you, gojo" you smiled,

"Nope" he grinned, "But hey if it makes you smile, I'll take the risk"

 You felt the air shifting between you, as Gojo still crouched beside you, watching you with a certain look, you weren't sure of—something softer, unreadable. His usually cocky smirk was replaced by an expression that made you catch your breath.

Your heart pounded as you forced yourself to look away, but you couldn't—"Hey," he murmured, his voice was low, edged with something different.

You barely had the time to process before you felt his fingers brush against your chin, lightly, barely there—but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He tilted your face toward him, waiting, giving you the space to pull away, but you didn't,

then he kissed you, it was gentle, and his lips were warm, and soft, as it was pressed against yours. A quiet sigh escaping your lips,

You felt his hand moving, sliding along your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your tears, as he deepened the kiss, pulling you in, his touch was firm but careful. Gojo couldn't lie like he wasn't waiting to do this to you.

 Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him onto him as you felt the world blurring around you both. It has been so long since you did this—someone that touched like this..since someone genuinely wanted you like this—the worst part about it,

it felt good, it was too good, you wanted it more.

When he finally pulled back from you, his breath was slightly uneven, 

"I want..more" you mumbled, your voice dazed, gripping his shirt. You heard a chuckle erupting from him as he looked at you, it made your whole body shiver. You couldn't lie that you were aroused from just the kiss alone, 

you knew something—dangerous was going to happen if you kept on kissing him, the way his hands were crawling on your body, 

but you didn't care...

𝜗𝜚

 You practically made out with your son's teacher again, you were sitting on top of the table as you kissed him more, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips as you wrapped your legs around him.

"God—you're so beautiful" he breathed into your send, which made you even wetter, you moaned softly as he kissed you again. Gojo's hands slipped under your blouse, cupping your breast and making you grasp. You arched against his touch, as a low chuckle erupted from his throat, his fingers, 

"No bra, huh?" he teased, as he roughly rubbed your nipples with his fingers, making you jolt up.  

"You have really pretty moans, you know" he whispered in your ears, before leaving little kisses along your neck, his eyes drinking the sight of your aroused state. You wrapped your arms around him, wanting to pull him even closer than he was before, 

"Gojo—" you moaned, 

"Satoru" he stopped, turning his head at your dazed expression, 

"Call me that, love" 

Before you can process, you were lying on the table, with him above you. His slender, fingers danced across the clothed cunt,  before ripping it off, "Satoru—" You arched your back at the feeling of his fingers entering you, your hands immediately on his forearm, at the sudden intrusion.

"Your s' wet for me" he mused, his voice was husky, making you even more nervous, but you just nodded. You were so overwhelmed—you hadn't had sex in a while, maybe that was why your body was so responsive to his touch, so sensitive. His fingers thrust into you slowly, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit, making you moan in pleasure, 

His fingers dug deeper into your tight folds, picking up the pace. You were gripping the tablecloth on the table, arching your back in pure pleasure. You were gasping for air, moaning, overwhelmed by the sensation that was coursing in your body,

"S-satoru!" you moaned, he wasn't going to stop, feeling his fingers touching your g-spot. Making you jolt, clenching down on his fingers. You were so close to cumming on his fingers, your mind was hazy—what were you doing.

How long were you even able to reach your orgasm, or have sex after Toji, you didn't know but you craved it, and you were getting it with Gojo. 

Suddenly, you felt the intrusion leaving you, as he pulled his fingers out of you. You felt a twinge of disappointment, you looked up at him, confused. 

"Don't worry—I just wanna taste you" he whispered in your ears, making you shiver. As you watched him moving in between your legs, your eyes widened at what he was doing, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue pressing on your cunt, it was a wave crashing over you. As he licked your slit slowly, teasing you. His tongue pressed against your clit, circling around it.

You were embarrassed—I mean you craved this attention, not knowing how much you need it—fuck, you don't remember Toji ever doing this to you, mostly him fucking you still he was cummed into you, leaving you alone. But when Gojo finally pushed his tongue into you, you moaned at the sensation, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You help but to squirm beneath him, his soft hands on your thighs, holding your thighs up. You arched your back—how many times was he hitting your sensitive spots? Wrapping your legs around his head, urging him to go deeper into you, 

"Haaa~" you moaned, rolling your eyes back,

His tongue flicked against your sensitive spot, as you shuddered in delight, whimpering against his touch. You were losing yourself in the sensation, your hair sprawled out on the dining room table, while your own son's teacher was eating you out.

"Satoru..m' so close" you whimpered,

He didn't respond but kept on flicking his tongue against your spots. The coil in your stomach was unraveling as he pushed his tongue, savoring your taste. You cried out, your body shuddering with pleasure as you came on his tongue, your toes curling as you moaned out. His tongue still lapping every drop of your cum on his tongue, making you overstimulate.

Your gaze was on the ceiling as you tried to collect yourself, your cunt throbbing after the crash of pleasure on your body, hearing the shifting between your legs, looking at Gojo standing between your legs, your juices still staining his face,

"Taste good as the meal" Gojo smiled, making you even more embarrassed, before you felt his grip pulling you closer to him. The feeling of his hardened cloth cock on your cunt, made you shudder,

 "You ready for Ms. L/N" Your eyes widened as he gestured to his hardness, making you blush.  You turned your head, nodding. 

You felt his hands underneath your chin, "You need to use your words like a big girl" he teased, your eyes looking into his crystal blue ones, 

"I..i—want your cock..please" you mumbled, looking away after you said it.

"Good" you watched as he smirked— you didn't know when he even took his pants off, but his cock was huge, your eyes widening at the sight of it. You felt your cunt throbbing at only the sight of it, as you bit your lip, as he positioned himself at your entrance. You immediately put your arms around his neck readying yourself for his dick.

You looked up, your lips parting, "You ready for me big girl..." 

You nodded, biting your lips, feeling his cock sinking into your cunt, the burning sensation making you groan out, his hands on around your waist—rubbing your waist as you adjusted to his abnormally large size, before his hips started pumping into you. 

His hips roll back to you, feeling your cunt being stretched out—he was just so big, you felt stuffed with him fucking into you, your head throwing up in ecstasy, moaning his name. 

the sound of sex echoing through the dining room, 

Your body was trembling, with his thick cock thrusting into you, over and over. Your breathing gets frantic, the simple pleasure making your head spin. Your hand was holding onto for dear life, 

"Oh god," you cried out, his hands gripping your hips, feeling his finger digging into your soft, delicate flesh as he pounded into you. The table creaks beneath them as he fucks you, 

'Fuck' he grunts into your ear, you just moaned in response losing yourself in the sensation coursing your body. Every nerve in your body was on fire, electrified, as his hips smacked into you. 

You felt that familiar sensation in your stomach coming, as his cock hit your cervix, hitting you just right, making your toes curls. His rhythm was getting erratic, his thrusts growing faster and frantic, sending you over the edge.

He was close, you were close,

"Cum in me,—please.." you moaned out, you didn't care what you were saying at this point, you just wanted him. You felt a wave of pleasure waving onto you—so familiar, as he stretched your walls out, hitting the right spots with repetition. A strangled moan escaped your lips as you felt waves of pleasure crashing down on you again, 

Goj, gripping down onto your hips as you clenched around him, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, as you moaned out. Your walls clamping down his throbbing cock, milking him for all he got.

"S-shit" Gojo groaned, his hips jerking against you, you were dazed, sensitive. His fingers find themselves on your clit, harshly rubbing it, making you jolt up.

Heard his sharp intake of breath, as you felt him emptying himself into you, the warmness of his hot cum filling you up to the brim. The warmth was comforting, as you heaved in and out, still in a trance, your legs trembling around him.

You were there, his breathing echoing in your ears, after everything—your body on fire, your head spinning from pleasure,—what the hell did you do..

Your breathing hitched, realizing what you did, stealing a glance from Gojo. His chest rising, his white hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from you, feeling yourself still clenching down on him,

"Fuck.. you're still wanting more, hm?" you watched as Gojo teased you—fuck you couldn't lie, his post-sex look made you wet—you just had sex with Gojo Satoru, your son's teacher...just inviting him over for dinner to thank him, but you were being stabbed with his cock on your dining table,

but you would do it again, wouldn't you...

THINGS GOJO SATORU SAYS IN BED

“hey—no teasing. take it all. ngh .. fuck me..”

“you cryin?”

“lay back, and let me do all the work. i just want you to sit there and look pretty.”

“try to keep your legs up, i know it’s hard. but try for me beautiful.”

“want me to help you?”

“get it wet .. just like that. you know i like it sloppy.”

“just wait baby .. fuck—give me a damn minute.”

“does it hurt when i fuck you like this? hm? why are you squeezing me so tight then?

“tell me you love it .. fuck, you’re so dirty.”

“arch it baby .. there you go angel.”

“nuh-uh, open those pretty legs.”

“don’t make me cuff your hands, bet you’d like that huh?”

“you’re weak here .. right?”

“keep your eyes on me.”

“you look so fucking beautiful .. such a little slut for me when i eat that pretty cunt out .. i should do it more often. y’so soft for me now.”

“you can do it pretty .. you can take it—shit!”

“want me to spank that pussy? lay back then,”

“give me one more. please, just one more baby.”

“one’s enough for you? think that pussy’s begging for another.”

“don’t be embarrassed .. i love it when you squirt for me.”

“you want it so bad? beg.”

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips.