ა໒ ˚₊ 𝓼-𝓼𝓸 𝓼𝓸𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭 𓂃⊹

APT. Gojo's version

Madam Gojo - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.

They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too. 

The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.

Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room. 

Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.

“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”

Ah, right. How could you forget?

You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.

And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.

“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”

“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”

The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”

God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this. 

Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”

And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle. 

“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.

Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”

“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”

“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”

You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already. 

Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”

Oh. You’ve done it now.

You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked. 

You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-

“Sit.”

Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”

Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them. 

And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.

“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”

It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this? 

“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”

What? 

The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face. 

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity. 

“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better. 

So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”

At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”

And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?

Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.

Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.

Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually. 

And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth. 

“Out.” 

It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.

Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”

And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now. 

“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”

“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”

That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.

“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?” 

“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him. 

Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but. 

“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”

Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar. 

But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.

Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal. 

Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away. 

“See? Jus’ like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”

And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.

He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.

Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan. 

“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”

“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”

At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”

Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his. 

So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-

“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”

Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this. 

“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”

“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth. 

At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”

You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”

You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast. 

But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?

So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers. 

Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”

Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. 

You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth. 

And Gojo keeps going. 

Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily. 

“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”

“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”

“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”

You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good. 

And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!

“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?” 

A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”

And, well, a good husband always shares, right?

Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs. 

“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”

You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-

Shit. 

You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous. 

All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.

Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together. 

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”

And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute. 

“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone. 

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch. 

But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly. 

Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”

“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance. 

“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”

“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”

You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you. 

Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there. 

“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”

A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least. 

Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.” 

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear. 

It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side. 

“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?” 

You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find- 

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”

Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted. 

“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”

You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.

Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles. 

“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”

And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are. 

“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”

Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices. 

And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-

“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”

So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper. 

Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you. 

But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.

Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes. 

And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his. 

“Clean that room up.” 

Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie. 

But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

A series of moments being Gojo Satoru Wife!

Originally this was supposed to be jjk adults multi one shot and to be posted a month ago... Only for Gojo to take the spotlight LMAO

*｡☆ﾟ 🕰️ 11.07 p.m

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

how did the two of you have a dream about being cheated on and getting a divorce in a span of two weeks? such bizarre coincidence.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

i don't wanna lose this with you a spiderman gojo fic

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an amalgation of misunderstandings and stress lead to a very big fight between you and satoru, but you certainly don't expect the way he wins you back.

warnings ⸺ college au, spiderman!au, angst, hurt/comfort, i warn you reader might infurate you, but she's just a woman in stem :(, tooth rotting fluff bc he's a loser for his gf, not edited sue me

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n you'll probably need to read the first installation (nsfw, so mdni) to understand this one :3

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

you've blocked gojo on all platforms.

you don't really remember what caused the "break up" (you didn't really break up). maybe it's the fact that you've been stressed about grad school admissions, your dorm's floor was covered in his boxers, and he's never been able to visit you pre-3am these days. somehow, the city's criminals are determined to keep your boyfriend away from you, and maybe it was your pms, or maybe it was truly just because satoru is annoying. regardless, it's when you guys have plans that's not an impromptu healing-gojo's-wounds-in-your-dorm-at-3am sesh and you're waiting at the coffee shop that you explode.

because he was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago, and when you move to go to the bathroom, you see him. through the window, his white hair is never not noticeable, and who you see next to him makes you falter.

he's standing next to a girl with blue tinted silver hair that you recognize as mei mei, and she's gripping his upper arm as she smiles while looking at his face, his lips with such fuck me eyes that you could tell they were having some sort of intimate conversation.

and if it were an ideal day, you would know that it's all a misunderstanding, you would know your boyfriend is someone you trust. but, again, the cards were stacked against you, and the only things that go through your mind all make your eyes all glossy. he's late to the one date that you planned because you and him were finally free at the same time and you've been busy because you've been desperately applying for internships because unlike your boyfriend you don't have a plethora of papers and coding experience and you've been getting four hours of sleep on average this week and ugh you've heard a rumor that satoru used to hook up with her and fuck now your tampon is poking at you in the wrong way—

great. now tears are fully streaming down your cheeks. in public.

as you rush to the table where your stuff is your vision is so blurry that you also almost fall flat on your face as you stumble over the legs of chairs and tables. blurting out a ensemble of choked up sorry's and excuse me's you hurriedly gather your laptop and notebooks in your backpack and book it for the exit.

the biting cold stings at your face, but you nevertheless determinedly move in the opposite direction of where satoru and mei mei are situated, praying your boyfriend doesn't recognize you. however, it seems that the heavens are working against you because you hear a yelled "baby?"

you don't look back because you know a new set of tears will leave your eyes, and with it being finals season, you're not very hydrated to being with. but you hear footsteps running towards you and fuck your boyfriend's long ass legs because he quickly catches up to you. then, he grabs your hands, attempting to stop you from running away and face him.

"baby," he breathes, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he moves to kiss your forehead. you stay silent, pinning your gaze to the ground while shivering. "where are you going? aren't we supposed to hang out right now?"

look, you and gojo have a good relationship. but recently, things have gotten...strenuous lately. you guys haven't been communicating, and it might not help that half of your calorie intake was from energy drinks. or perhaps what lead you to say what you said next was driven entirely by the brain eating mold on your unwashed dishes, but dumb excuses aside, you sneer. "shouldn't you be busy doing that with mei mei, instead?"

a small part of you--the part that knows you shouldn't be like this--feels relief that hurt doesn't immediately flash across his eyes, only confusion. but lack of sleep has not only stripped away at your sanity but also your people pleasing and overthinking tendencies, leaving you only as a girl frustrated, even irrationally angry, with her boyfriend. so you only avert your gaze when he dumbfoundedly asks, "what?"

"what do you mean, "what?"" you scoff, wrenching your hand from his grasp. "you were ten minutes late to our meet-up, gojo." it is at your use of his last name, instead of your sweet my love, that the hurt you've been looking for flashes across his eyes. he moves to speak but you cut him off, no longer wishing to be here with him. "if you're so busy talking to bitches you hooked up with before, why did you even bother saying yes to hanging out with me?"

he looks at you in confusion, eyes quickly flitting back and forth across you. then, slowly, as if he's still processing the weight of your accusations, he says, "i don't exactly know what you're referring to, but let's calm down---"

and you see red.

"calm down?" you snap, voice sharp and icy, just like the wind stinging your cheeks. "did you seriously just tell me to calm down? you were late again, gojo, and i find you chatting it up with her?" you practically spit the word, arms crossing as a flimsy defense against both the cold and the ache building in your chest.

satoru blinks, his confusion genuine, but you’re too far gone to care. "wait—mei mei? is this about mei mei? she's not—"

"don’t you dare finish that sentence," you cut him off, your voice rising as your blood boils hotter. "i don't want to hear how she's just a friend, or how it's not what it looks like. i’m so tired of hearing the same bullshit excuses."

"baby, you're jumping to conclusions—"

"and you’re jumping at the chance to look like an idiot in public," you snap, your hands trembling now, either from the cold or your rising fury. "god, what do you even say to her? let me guess, you go around telling girls you're spider-man to get into their pants, huh? bet that works like a charm."

the accusation hits like a slap, and for the first time, satoru looks genuinely stunned, his mouth falling open slightly. "what the hell are you even saying right now?"

"am i wrong?" you let out a bitter laugh, one that echoes in the frosty air. "you’re late to the one date i actually planned, and i see you with her, all cozy, like i’m not even waiting for you. like i don’t even matter."

his eyebrows knit together, frustration mixing with something softer. "you seriously think i’d—"

"i don’t know what to think anymore, satoru!" the words burst out of you, your voice cracking as hot tears well in your eyes. "all i know is that i can’t keep feeling like this. like i’m some afterthought while you’re out doing—whatever it is you do. swinging through the city or flirting with your exes or—" you choke on the words, wiping at your cheeks furiously as the tears spill over. "just forget it. i’m done."

"wait." his voice is quieter now, more desperate as he steps toward you, his hand reaching out. "baby, come on, we can talk about this—"

"no," you say firmly, jerking your hand away before he can grab it. "i’m blocking you. on everything." then, mockingly, "you can figure out how to save the world without me."

his eyes widen, his mouth opening like he’s about to plead or argue, but you don’t wait for him to speak. you turn on your heel and storm away, the cold wind biting at your skin as the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you don’t look back. not when he calls your name, not when you hear his footsteps falter. you just keep walking.

it’s 3 a.m., and you don’t know if you exist.

well, you do, but after how light you feel after you’ve cried a disgusting amount, you just lie down on your floor staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life. or more specifically, the meaning of your life, which right now feels like it’s revolving around nothing but stress and a breakup you don’t even fully understand.

you wouldn’t be having these problems if you were a childless cat lady.

but alas, you’re just a college student. in the few days where you haven’t seen satoru, you’ve finished all your finals—miraculously, considering the fragile state of your emotional wellbeing—and now you’re finally on break in your dorm. you’re supposed to go back home in two days, but the thought of packing feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. you can’t summon the energy to do anything except wallow in your self-pity and selfishness, letting it wrap around you like a weighted blanket that’s somehow comforting and suffocating all at once.

you’d like to say this is rock bottom, but truthfully, it’s worse than that. because rock bottom implies a kind of finality—a place to push off from. this? this feels more like you’re sinking in quicksand, the weight of everything dragging you further down.

in your stress and impulsiveness, you’ve managed to kill your entire grind for internships. deadlines have slipped past while you spent hours doom-scrolling job boards and second-guessing every application. the ambitious, career-focused version of yourself feels like a stranger now, buried under the weight of your own doubts and insecurities. and on top of that, you may have potentially lost the love of your life.

it’s laughable, really, how thoroughly you’ve managed to self-destruct in such a short time. the worst part? you can’t even bring yourself to check your socials. if you unblock him and see there aren’t any messages, you think your heart might shatter completely. which, if you’re being honest, isn’t exactly fair to him. you’re the one who had the meltdown. you’re the one who blocked him on everything. he probably doesn’t even know what he did wrong because you didn’t even communicate anything.

your stomach twists at the thought, guilt mingling with the ever-present ache of missing him. he was supposed to be the one person who made everything feel a little less impossible, and now you’ve pushed him away.

there has got to be a taylor swift song for this.

so you make your way to your spotify account to listen to afterglow, putting in your airpods while somberly looking at the ceiling once again as the lyrics fill your ears. tears well up as soon as the lyrics start

i blew things out of proportion, now you're blue⸻

tears well up before you can stop them, hot and heavy as they trail down your cheeks. god, you’re a mess. and yet, as much as you hate it, you can’t seem to stop the flood of thoughts that follow.

you miss him. you miss the way he made you laugh even when you were on the verge of tears, the way his ridiculous confidence somehow made you feel like everything would work out. you miss how he’d stay up late just to facetime you when you were overwhelmed with schoolwork, how he always seemed to know exactly when you needed him most.

and now? now you’ve gone and ruined it. maybe he’s angry, maybe he’s hurt, or worse—maybe he’s just done with you entirely.

the thought makes your chest ache, your breaths coming in shallow and uneven as the lyrics hit their crescendo.

i need to say, hey, it’s all me, in my head—

then, suddenly the song changes. you frown as you hear early 2010's pop blast through your ears.

i threw a wish in the well, don't ask me i'll never tell⸻

why the fuck is call me maybe playing?

annoyed and rubbing at your eyes, you move the change it back to, now, the sad girl hours playlist spotify curated for your and assume your dead fish position on the floor once again.

however, it seems as if your spotify is genuinely tweaking, like it's realized it’s gotten your attention. when call me maybe starts playing again, you groan out loud and move your phone. but before you have a chance to switch the song again, it seems to switch.

baby by justin bieber.

call me, blondie.

i love you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams.

letstalkaboutit, aminé.

i don't understand but i luv you, seventeen.

please please please, sabrina carpenter.

and then, once more, as if to really drive the point home: call me maybe, carly rae jepsen.

again, it's 3am, and you're stuck in a surreal mix of grief and confusion, staring at your phone as your spotify queue seems to have gained sentience. each song feels like a pleading nudge, an unmistakable pattern forming, and your blood runs cold when you remember one very important fact.

you share a spotify account with satoru.

"carly rae jepsen," you mutter under your breath, a mix of exasperation and fondness bubbling up despite yourself. he's hijacking your queue. right in the middle of your emo songs.

you sit up abruptly, tossing your airpods onto the bed, and hover over the call button on your phone. there’s a split second of hesitation—your pride battling with your longing—before you give in and press it.

the line rings twice before his voice comes through, breathless, like he’s been pacing. "baby?"

the sound of his voice sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, sharp and raw like an open wound. the sound of his voice makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, equal parts relief and guilt. "satoru," you say, barely above a whisper. "why are you messing with our spotify?"

"why am i messing with our spotify?" he echoes, his tone incredulous. "why did you block me on literally everything? what was i supposed to do—send you a letter by carrier pigeon?"

you wince at the edge in his voice, your earlier anger wilting under the weight of his hurt. "i… i don’t know," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. "i was upset, and i wasn’t thinking straight. i shouldn’t have done that."

"yeah, you shouldn’t have," he says, still sounding a little indignant, though there’s something softer beneath it now. "do you know how many songs i had to go through to make my point? do you know how hard it was to resist the urge to rickroll you instead?" then, there’s a pause on his end, the line suddenly feeling too quiet. then he sighs, his voice softening into something that feels too much like an apology. "i didn’t know what else to do. i hate not talking to you. i hate knowing i made you upset, even if i don’t entirely understand why."

you close your eyes, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance. the silence stretches between you, thick and unbearable, until you finally break it. "i’m sorry," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "i shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.” and now that the dam has been broken, it all comes rushing out as you start choking up. “i’ve just been so stressed, and i’ve been missing you and then i saw you with her and then got irrationally angry when i really should’ve trusted you and oh my god i’m like a possessive tradwife husband that doesn’t let you leave the farm i’m sorry and i didn’t even communicate before i blew up at you like that—”

"hey. hey, hey, it’s okay," he says immediately, his tone filled with an earnestness that makes your chest tighten. "i know things have been hard for you. i should’ve been better, too. more present. i hate that you’ve been feeling like this while i’ve been...doing spider-man things." then, he lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind that’s equal parts exasperation and playfulness. "but wasn’t fair,” and you can hear a whine in his voice, “you blocked me and then ghosted me like i’m some kind of random tinder match. do you have any idea how insane i felt when i couldn’t even check to see if you were okay? i thought you hated me."

your breath catches at his words, guilt twisting like a knife in your chest. "i don’t hate you," you say quickly, the words spilling out in a rush. "i could never hate you. i was just… stupid, and emotional, and i didn’t know how to handle everything piling up. i’m so, so sorry, satoru."

there’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, a little more vulnerable. "then why did you say those things? about mei mei, and… and me using the spider-man thing to get into girls’ pants."

you bite your lip, the memory of your harsh words making your throat tighten. "i didn’t mean any of it," you whisper. "i was just lashing out, and i know it wasn’t fair to you. i know you’d never do something like that, and i trust you, satoru. i just… i let my insecurities get the better of me."

"wait," he interrupts, his voice laced with amusement that shouldn’t make your heart ache the way it does. "you actually think i’d use the spider-man thing as a pickup line? that’s...wow. that’s genius. i should write that down."

"satoru!" you exclaim, half-laughing, half-crying, your emotions unraveling all over again. "i’m being serious!"

"i know, i know," he says, but you can hear the smile in his voice, warm and teasing. "and i’m being serious, too. i’d never do that to you. mei mei’s just...she tripped in front of me, i was just helping her up. i didn’t even realize how it must’ve looked, but i’ve never done anything with her. you’re it for me, okay? always."

you sniffle, wiping at your cheeks as your heart swells and aches all at once. "you mean that?"

"of course i do," he says, his voice soft and sincere in a way that makes your breath hitch. "i love you, even when you block me on everything and make me resort to spotify warfare." he sighs again, but this time it’s softer, the warmth in his voice breaking through his remaining irritation. "i’m not mad. i mean, i was mad, but mostly i was just upset. you really hurt my feelings, you know?"

the lump in your throat grows, your guilt threatening to choke you. "i know," you say, your voice cracking. "i’m so sorry, satoru. i’ll make it up to you, i promise."

"oh, you will make it up to me," he says, the teasing edge returning to his tone. "i want a week of boyfriend privileges—no complaining when i steal your fries, no making fun of my movie picks, and you’re buying me snacks for at least three of those days."

a small smile tugs at your lips despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "deal," you say softly.

there’s a pause on his end, and then his voice comes through the line, quieter but no less sincere. "you really mean it? you’re not still mad at me?"

"i’m not mad," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "i was never really mad at you, satoru. i was mad at everything else, and i took it out on you. but i’m not mad anymore. i just… i miss you."

"i miss you too," he says, and the raw honesty in his voice---the subtle way it chokes up, as if he had been crying and missing you too---makes your chest ache. "so, can i come over? or are you going to make me keep hijacking your playlists to get your attention?"

you laugh softly, the sound tinged with relief. "just come over already, you dummy. and bring snacks. good ones."

"done," he says, his grin audible through the phone. "i’ll be there in twenty. and for the record, you owe me at least a whole playlist dedicated to how amazing i am and you sucking the absolute soul out of my dick---."

"don’t push your luck," you reply, but there’s no heat in your words, only warmth (and you’re absolutely going to suck his soul out of his cock). regardless, for the first time in days, the tightness in your chest starts to ease, replaced by something lighter, something whole.

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

a/n he's so cute :( i'll keep on writing stuff for them whether it be small fics like this or long ass fics. i think my next one is gonna be freaky if you guys are nice to this one

TAGLIST im really sorry if i missed you if you sent an ask asking to be tagged pls feel free to remind me again im afriad ur ask has drowned in my shitposts and other asks

@chilichopsticks @livelaughloveisagiyoichi @moonchhu @k0z3me @seobluv

@m1gota @celloccino @satxoru @fishrene @myahfig4

@watermelonmuntchers @bxnfire @ayumilk @venussdovess @michelleeveline

@bochichi @applepi25 @6xillaa @almostdifferentstudent @mugamoo

@iv-vee @jaemissso @wil10wthetree @localartisttttt @rirk-ke

@backinmyphase @novaisbebita @heiejdhdh @blueemochii @helloalex80

@gojodickbig @kyon-cherri @nikkissecretlibrary @omg-its-rdj @isleqt

@suguruscousin @idkwhatursayinh @yourfavbabigirl

｡.*｡☆ﾟ 🕰️ 08.45 p.m

18+ suggestive content! cw. cockwarming. based on this ask and thirst idea in my inbox💁🏻‍♀️ psa: reader makes the first move 🤞🏻

a part of gojo's love entries

“hah—hah, sweets, wait—!”

now, now… what a rare sight. you don’t usually climb on top of your husband and attack him with senseless kisses on your own accord— usually it’s the opposite.

but ever since satoru got you pregnant, and now that you had reached the end of your first trimester, your hormones were at most turbulent, and you could get turned on over random things he did.

“hah—” he groaned, throwing his head back when your sinful lips trailed kisses on his neck, and your hand played with his length, squeezing him and making him harder by each second.

both of you were still fully clothed and he wasn’t even out of his pants yet— you just unzipped and took the prize.

for god’s sake, he thought. you looked so fine taking charge of him and making him writhe like this.

“satoru—” your voice was feathery as you breathed in his neck, before sucking it hard and making him grunt. you let go of his length, pressed your body closer, and then started grinding against him.

in your defense, your husband looked delectable these days. you didn’t know why, but seeing him all happy made you want to keep him inside your pocket or mark him so everyone would know that he was yours.

that even when he casually throws that silly grin to everyone, it is you who have his entire being.

“whoa—” satoru took a sharp breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as you bucked your hips against him. “sexy… what brought this—ah—on?”

“your fault.” you murmured, nibbling on his neck and sneakily unbuttoning his shirt. “you— manspread a lot.”

“huh…?”

“you were baiting me.”

you didn’t give him a chance to react as you devoured his lips next, placing both hands on his neck— suck, suck, suck and bite —and coupled by the feeling of your still clothed slit pressed against his bare cock, satoru grunted and let out a low moan.

“so—haah—spreading my legs… is a crime now, eh?”

“not when—mmm—in front of me.”

“you’re going to be the death— of me.” satoru chuckled, feeling sweat lining all over his body. you were a vixen under the guise of a proper wife—he supposed he already knew that but tonight really drove the fact home.

he was a mess—swollen lips, heavily panting—and damn, now you were trailing sloppy kisses down his chest, too near to his crotch—

“don’t t-tease me… sweets.” his voice was rough as he heaved a breath. you had cleverly dragged his inner desire enough for him not to think straight and oh suddenly he had a vision—

“—toru,” and the final straw was your small, needy tone.

with that, his senses went flying out the window. he didn’t really think much when he grabbed you close, slipped his fingers inside your panties to feel your wetness, before tearing it off and turning you over, causing you to fall back into his chest—

—followed by spreading your legs and rolling his hips, and effectively sheathing his hardened cock inside you.

“mphm!” you let out a hitched sigh, feeling so incredibly full all of a sudden.

“well, look at how the tables have turned.” you heard your husband snickering behind you.

you were still trying to catch your breath when you got distracted by his large hand under your dress, spreading across your belly and pressing on your barely noticeable baby bump ever so slightly.

you let out a mewl and as if he just realized what he did, satoru turned to you. “hey, you okay? is this comfy for you?”

you panted, looking away. “…comfy.”

“well, good. the moment you feel any discomfort, you have to tell me, ‘kay?”

“mm-hmm.”

“wanna move?”

“no, just… stay like this.”

“fine by me,” satoru licked his lips, feeling his hardness throbbing inside your tight folds. even after he had fucked a baby into you, the way you took him inside never fail to leave him breathless.

“well, now on to a more pressing issue…” he turned your chin towards him with his other hand, a giddy grin split his handsome face. “mind telling me, why did you suddenly pounce on me like that, hmm?”

your face burned with embarrassment. you couldn't possibly tell him that he was so irresistible you just had to bite him now, could you?

“can’t i? would you rather i don’t do it at all?”

“trying to evade the question, i see...” satoru’s smile evolved into a knowing smirk. “i seem to recall you finding me attractive for spreading my legs though but whatever. i’m happy either way, so right, let’s resume—”

he tapped your lower belly. “another pop-up quiz: what do you feel more here... me or our baby?”

you squirmed in his lap, feeling him twitch inside you and your entire body set ablaze. god. i’ve picked a wrong fight.

“no response? failing to answer will result in me deducting your marks, you know~”

“...is this your new kink? roleplaying as teacher?”

“i am a licensed teacher, sweets. i’m just putting things to practice~”

you wanted to facepalm. how was it that even in sex he was always finding ways to make you laugh?

“time’s up, little wifey,” satoru chuckled and oh lord, the way his body shook also made his cock vibrate inside you, splitting you further. “for the sake of time and my poor honey’s very delicate condition, i’ll grant your wish.”

you snorted. “what are you on this time?”

“turning your horny thoughts into reality,” he retorted, playfully pursing his lips. “but first thing first, i’ll have to regretfully pull out. we need to change positions. you’ll stay under me and let me do the rest, ’kay?”

you accidentally let out a whine at the sudden feeling of loss—your pussy clenching around nothing. but as he laid you down and discarded his pants, you were met with the bright gleam of his eyes and wicked grin... and you could already feel yourself growing wet once more.

“don’t worry, sweets... i’ll soon make you feel sooo good— just like i always have, yeah?”

is it a ten now? | gojo x reader.

snow crunched softly under your boots as you walked through the quiet streets, your gloved hand securely held in gojo’s. his fingers tightened around yours every few moments, as if to remind you that he was there. the city was alive with christmas decorations—twinkling lights, wreaths on every door, and shop windows full of warm, glowing displays. despite the bustle of the holiday season, being with gojo made it feel like the two of you existed in your own little snow globe.

“so,” he began, swinging your joined hands between you. “on a scale of one to ten, how much do you love christmas with me?”

you tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “hmm… probably like a six?”

he gasped, placing his free hand dramatically over his chest. “a six? a six? you wound me, truly.”

“what did you expect?” you said, trying to keep a straight face. “you keep trying to eat my snacks and ruin all the surprises. six is generous.”

he stopped walking, tugging you closer until you were standing chest-to-chest in the middle of the snowy sidewalk. he bent slightly, so his face was level with yours, his ridiculously bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “first of all, i only ate one of your cookies, and it was a quality check for your benefit. second, i’m the best surprise of all.”

you rolled your eyes. “modest as always, satoru.”

“you love it,” he said, grinning as he leaned closer.

you opened your mouth to retort, but he suddenly straightened and pointed ahead with an excited gasp. “look! a christmas market!”

before you could respond, he was pulling you along, practically skipping as he dragged you toward the row of small, wooden stalls glowing with warm light.

“you act like you’ve never seen one before,” you teased, laughing as he darted from booth to booth.

“it’s different when you’re with me,” he said over his shoulder, his enthusiasm contagious. “come on, i saw hot chocolate over there!”

you let him lead you to a stall where a friendly vendor handed you both steaming cups of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and candy canes. gojo insisted on feeding you a bite of the whipped cream, laughing when it ended up on your nose.

“you’re the messiest eater i’ve ever met,” you said, wiping your face with a napkin.

“and yet, you still keep me around,” he replied, winking as he took a sip of his own drink.

after exploring the market, gojo spotted a small photo booth tucked between two stalls. “oh, we have to take a picture,” he said, already pulling you toward it.

you squeezed into the tiny booth, laughing at how his long legs barely fit. as the countdown began, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your cheek, leaving you flustered in the first photo. in the next, he made a goofy face, pulling you into his antics until you were both laughing so hard that the final photo was just the two of you mid-giggle.

when the strip of photos printed, he held it up, grinning. “see? proof that you’re having the best christmas ever with me.”

you snatched the photos from him, tucking them into your pocket. “maybe it’s an eight now,” you admitted softly.

he smirked. “i’ll get it to a ten before the night’s over. just wait.”

as the two of you continued wandering through the snowy streets, his hand warm in yours and his laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but think that he already had.

a/n: hope evb had a great christmas<3

｡.*｡☆ﾟ 🕰️ 08.45 p.m

18+ suggestive content! cw. cockwarming. based on this ask and thirst idea in my inbox💁🏻‍♀️ psa: reader makes the first move 🤞🏻

a part of gojo's love entries

“hah—hah, sweets, wait—!”

now, now… what a rare sight. you don’t usually climb on top of your husband and attack him with senseless kisses on your own accord— usually it’s the opposite.

but ever since satoru got you pregnant, and now that you had reached the end of your first trimester, your hormones were at most turbulent, and you could get turned on over random things he did.

“hah—” he groaned, throwing his head back when your sinful lips trailed kisses on his neck, and your hand played with his length, squeezing him and making him harder by each second.

both of you were still fully clothed and he wasn’t even out of his pants yet— you just unzipped and took the prize.

for god’s sake, he thought. you looked so fine taking charge of him and making him writhe like this.

“satoru—” your voice was feathery as you breathed in his neck, before sucking it hard and making him grunt. you let go of his length, pressed your body closer, and then started grinding against him.

in your defense, your husband looked delectable these days. you didn’t know why, but seeing him all happy made you want to keep him inside your pocket or mark him so everyone would know that he was yours.

that even when he casually throws that silly grin to everyone, it is you who have his entire being.

“whoa—” satoru took a sharp breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as you bucked your hips against him. “sexy… what brought this—ah—on?”

“your fault.” you murmured, nibbling on his neck and sneakily unbuttoning his shirt. “you— manspread a lot.”

“huh…?”

“you were baiting me.”

you didn’t give him a chance to react as you devoured his lips next, placing both hands on his neck— suck, suck, suck and bite —and coupled by the feeling of your still clothed slit pressed against his bare cock, satoru grunted and let out a low moan.

“so—haah—spreading my legs… is a crime now, eh?”

“not when—mmm—in front of me.”

“you’re going to be the death— of me.” satoru chuckled, feeling sweat lining all over his body. you were a vixen under the guise of a proper wife—he supposed he already knew that but tonight really drove the fact home.

he was a mess—swollen lips, heavily panting—and damn, now you were trailing sloppy kisses down his chest, too near to his crotch—

“don’t t-tease me… sweets.” his voice was rough as he heaved a breath. you had cleverly dragged his inner desire enough for him not to think straight and oh suddenly he had a vision—

“—toru,” and the final straw was your small, needy tone.

with that, his senses went flying out the window. he didn’t really think much when he grabbed you close, slipped his fingers inside your panties to feel your wetness, before tearing it off and turning you over, causing you to fall back into his chest—

—followed by spreading your legs and rolling his hips, and effectively sheathing his hardened cock inside you.

“mphm!” you let out a hitched sigh, feeling so incredibly full all of a sudden.

“well, look at how the tables have turned.” you heard your husband snickering behind you.

you were still trying to catch your breath when you got distracted by his large hand under your dress, spreading across your belly and pressing on your barely noticeable baby bump ever so slightly.

you let out a mewl and as if he just realized what he did, satoru turned to you. “hey, you okay? is this comfy for you?”

you panted, looking away. “…comfy.”

“well, good. the moment you feel any discomfort, you have to tell me, ‘kay?”

“mm-hmm.”

“wanna move?”

“no, just… stay like this.”

“fine by me,” satoru licked his lips, feeling his hardness throbbing inside your tight folds. even after he had fucked a baby into you, the way you took him inside never fail to leave him breathless.

“well, now on to a more pressing issue…” he turned your chin towards him with his other hand, a giddy grin split his handsome face. “mind telling me, why did you suddenly pounce on me like that, hmm?”

your face burned with embarrassment. you couldn't possibly tell him that he was so irresistible you just had to bite him now, could you?

“can’t i? would you rather i don’t do it at all?”

“trying to evade the question, i see...” satoru’s smile evolved into a knowing smirk. “i seem to recall you finding me attractive for spreading my legs though but whatever. i’m happy either way, so right, let’s resume—”

he tapped your lower belly. “another pop-up quiz: what do you feel more here... me or our baby?”

you squirmed in his lap, feeling him twitch inside you and your entire body set ablaze. god. i’ve picked a wrong fight.

“no response? failing to answer will result in me deducting your marks, you know~”

“...is this your new kink? roleplaying as teacher?”

“i am a licensed teacher, sweets. i’m just putting things to practice~”

you wanted to facepalm. how was it that even in sex he was always finding ways to make you laugh?

“time’s up, little wifey,” satoru chuckled and oh lord, the way his body shook also made his cock vibrate inside you, splitting you further. “for the sake of time and my poor honey’s very delicate condition, i’ll grant your wish.”

you snorted. “what are you on this time?”

“turning your horny thoughts into reality,” he retorted, playfully pursing his lips. “but first thing first, i’ll have to regretfully pull out. we need to change positions. you’ll stay under me and let me do the rest, ’kay?”

you accidentally let out a whine at the sudden feeling of loss—your pussy clenching around nothing. but as he laid you down and discarded his pants, you were met with the bright gleam of his eyes and wicked grin... and you could already feel yourself growing wet once more.

“don’t worry, sweets... i’ll soon make you feel sooo good— just like i always have, yeah?”

“Hey, can you do me…a favour?”

Gojo winces as if the words hurt him, and when you realize he’s talking to you, the coffee you’d been sipping goes down the wrong pipe and you choke.

Coughing, you lean towards Shoko, who looks a little taken aback herself. “Did I hear that right? Did Gojo Satoru just ask me for a favour?”

“He really did,” she chuckles, lips curled into a smirk.

It wasn’t often that Gojo put his pride aside to ask for help, so who were you not to tease him a bit before acquiescing?

“You hit your head or something?” You tease. “Think too hard and lose brain cells?”

“Very funny, sweets,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

You scowl a little at the pet name, crinkling the can in your fist. “Well, what can I possibly do for you, oh honoured one?”

Gojo groans loudly, cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

“Nope,” you grin. “But seriously, what is it?”

He just sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s so uncharacteristically serious that it unsettles you a bit. “It’s about the kid. Megumi.”

You quirk a brow, curious. It wasn’t often that Gojo brought up his newly acquired children. “Don’t tell me you lost him at the grocery store.”

“That only happened once, and it was completely his fault! This is about his technique.”

“It’s manifested already?” you ask, suddenly extremely invested in this conversation. “Isn’t he, like, five or something?”

Gojo tilts his shades down to stare at you amusedly. “He’s seven. Almost eight.”

“Really? He’s small for his age,” Shoko comments mildly as Gojo shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, but don’t tell him that. He may have the height of a five year old, but he’s got the attitude of a thirteen year old. He will hurt your feelings,” he sniffs, and you wonder if he speaks from experience.

“Did you come here to tell us that you’re being bullied by a seven year old? What do you want us to do?” you ask, unable to bite back your smile. “Tell Yaga-sensei?”

“No,” Gojo grumbles, sticking his tongue out at you, a gesture which you return. “I want you to help me teach him how to use Ten Shadows. You’re the only other person I know that’s inherited and knows how to use it.”

You’d been messing with Gojo up until now, but this makes you pause. It was always a possibility for the kid to inherit the same technique as you, and now that it was reality, you were…excited. Excited to teach a young sorcerer in the way you had wished you’d been taught.

“Okay,” you agree, and Gojo looks momentarily surprised by your easy compliance. “But we’re gonna need some fly heads.”

—

“Why can’t Gojo-sensei teach me how to use my technique?”

Something clenches in Satoru’s chest as he watches you kneel in front of the small boy, smiling sweetly.

“Because that goofy beanstalk’s inherited technique isn’t nearly as cool as ours, so he doesn’t fully understand how it works yet.”

Ah, always so sweet until you open that pretty mouth of yours.

You’re merely gesturing around the room, but Megumi’s already showing more interest than he does during a full conversation with Satoru himself (the strongest sorcerer in the world, not that his kid was concerned).

“You may notice that the shadows around you…respond whenever you’re feeling things like anger or anxiety— Did Gojo-sensei teach you how to control your flow of cursed energy?”

From his spot against the wall, Satoru draws a deeper than normal breath. He likes the way Gojo-sensei sounds coming from your lips.

“Yeah,” Megumi replies, pointing to the bandage on his pudgy little cheek. “With the stuffed bear that punches.”

“It’s an unorthodox method,” you grimace, cutting a glare in Satoru’s direction. “But that makes this lesson easier.”

You hold your hands out in front of you, and Gojo watches as your cursed energy pulses around you, your shadows swirling in response to your jujutsu.

The Ten Shadows technique has always intrigued him. He’s seen - through you - how its versatility and power could easily outclass the strongest sorcerers and special grade curses.

Satoru knows he’s the strongest, but you? You’re a close second.

“We can hide a lot of things in our shadows. Like weapons,” you reach into one at your side, pulling a jet-black sword. “Or…wallets.”

Satoru can hear the smile in your voice when you hand Megumi a familiar black bi-fold, patting his pockets and groaning when he realizes they’re empty.

He should have known you didn’t put your hand on his thigh for no reason while he was driving.

Megumi giggles as you set the wallet in his palm, and his mouth falls open, because the kid’s never done more than scowl around him. Were you already his favourite?

You continue your lesson, clasping your hands together to summon one of your dogs. “But the best part is our shikigami.” Megumi’s eyes widen in awe as the dog dutifully flanks your side. “Basic shikigami users usually use a talisman as an intermediary, but we use our shadows. Do you know how to make shadow puppets?”

You smile when the boy nods, helping him position his little hands to form a dog. “Good. Now focus your cursed energy into it.”

It’s adorable, the way Megumi squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates so hard. What’s even more adorable is the way your eyes light up and you cheer when two little puppies appear at Megumi’s feet, tails wagging eagerly as they look up at their summoner.

“Satoru,” you call over your shoulder (and his heart absolutely does not begin to beat a little faster hearing you say his first name). “The fly head?”

“Oh, right,” he chuckles, recalling his role as assistant in this lesson, reaching into the box and pulling the low-level curse out by its neck, holding it out as far from his body as he can.

Eyes still on Megumi, you let out a quick, sharp whistle, and your white dog snarls, lunging forward and tearing the curse from Satoru’s hand. It’s teeth rip into the thing, powerful jaw crushing and tearing until the curse is nothing but pulp. (He’s seen that dog take on curses five times its size and win, this was but the tip of the iceberg when showcasing Ten Shadows.)

“They eat the curses?” Megumi asks, sounding more surprised than scared, like any normal seven-year old would be.

(Then again, he’s Toji’s kid.)

“The dogs do, yes,” you explain, rubbing your dog behind its ears before releasing it. “But like your other shikigami, they can also be trained for offense or support.”

“Can you teach me how to train them?” Megumi asks, glancing up at you hopefully, his puppies piled into his lap.

You’d have to be absolutely heartless to say no to him.

Satoru smiles a little when your expression softens. “Of course I will,” you tell him, then nod your head back towards him. “Don’t forget about your Gojo-sensei, though. He’s quite good at hand-to-hand combat, and the only thing more valuable than a sorcerer with Ten Shadows, is one who can also throw a punch. You want to fight alongside your shikigami.”

Megumi nods enthusiastically, and it’s perhaps the most excited he’s seen the kid react to the idea of spending more time with him.

—

“You ever think about it?” He asks as he walks you back to your dorm later that night. The last tendrils of sun stream through the windows, bathing the hall in warm streaks of sunset.

“Think about what?” You hum in reply, swinging the bag of kikufuku between you two.

“Teaching.”

You snort lightly at that. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Satoru laughs, nudging you slightly. “You were really good with the kid.”

“We have the same technique,” you shrug. “And he’s one kid, not a classroom of them.”

“We could do it together,” he suggests lightly. “You, me, Shoko, Utahime, even Nanami. We’re always here between missions anyway.”

You pause in the middle of the hall, turning to stare at him, your eyes searching his. “You…really do want to teach.”

“I do,” he nods. “The world is changing, and jujutsu needs to do the same. It needs people like you and me to lead that change, and it starts with us teaching kids like Megumi.”

Your gaze seems to soften, switching your shopping bag to your other hand and interlocking your fingers with his.

“Okay, let’s do it. Together.”

Satoru can’t help but smile, using your hand to pull you closer, leaning down and peppering your face in kisses until you squeal, begging him to stop between giggles.

“By the way, can you start calling me Gojo-sensei in bed?”

“Don’t push it.”