Gojo X Reader Fluff - Blog Posts

This shit hits harder than Peruvian cocaine 🙏🏻

kickoff | series masterlist.

gojo satoru x reader [18+] | angst, fluff, smut

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ status. ongoing

ᰔ word count. 72.5k

ᰔ taglist. open (feel free to comment!)

chapter index.

ch1. gojo satoru sent you a message

ch2. terms and conditions

ch3. returning the favor

ch4. a day in the life of a hot soccer player

ch5. these feelings are hard to find

ch6. devil's advocate

ch7. to lose someone you love

ch8. a little cottage on the countryside

ch9. words you've been wanting to hear

ch10. pending...

additional content.

official headcanons pt1. fluff, mild nsfw | link

anon headcanons. fluff | link

a note from the author. hello! my name is ellie, and this is my first long fic series called 'kickoff' which i began posting earlier this year in january! if you do decide to read it, i thank you very much from the bottom of my heart as it means a lot to me :””) please let me know if i missed any tags or warnings! and for those who may want to know before reading, this series will have a happy ending <3

Ten to None (Gojo x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Soulmates’ markings add up to ten so soulmates know just how much of a danger their soulmate is to them. You have a ten on your wrist, so you know your soulmate must have a zero. There’s just one problem: no one in history has ever been worthy of a danger rating of ten, so who the hell is the supposedly “invincible god” were you fated to? 

A/N: yikes that summary. Anyways, nobody got a soulmate au gojo out there that tickles my fancy, so here I am writing my own. Hope y’all like it! (Side note: this took me fucking A G E S)

Word count: 10406

        “A ten. Dear God.”

        “Oh-Oh my God, what do we do?”

        “Nobody’s ever had… Jesus.”

        A nurse had fainted when she saw the ten on the inside of your soft, newborn right wrist. The font was curling and slanted, almost as if it had been written nonchalantly with a few flicks of the wrist. Two black digits marred the plump flesh, unmissable. 

        Unmissable no matter how much your parents averted their gaze each time they saw it. 

        It wasn’t until kindergarten when your local bully ripped off the bandaid your parents pleaded with you to keep secure over your right wrist that you realized just how odd your number was. A circle of curious, mumbling five-year-olds formed around you, each one holding out their own wrists to compare. 

        Threes, twos, a couple fives and perhaps even a seven appeared in your vision. None of their wrists had been abraded by a freshly torn-off bandaid. 

        “Hold on, doesn’t it go one, two,... three, um…”

        “No, no, it’s one, two, four-”

        “Hey, what’s going on over here?” 

        Your swarming flock had gathered the attention of a recess aid. Her neon yellow fanny pack almost blinded you as she pushed through the crowd and towered over your cowering form. 

        “They’re m-making fun of me,” you whimpered, snot dribbling down onto your upper lip

        “Why’s her number so big?” Another child cut in, pointing an accusatory finger at your forearm. 

        The aid never responded to the other child’s question, nor did she defend you from them. Instead, when her gaze locked on the number on the inside of your wrist, she gasped. 

        Profanities your whole class had never heard were exposed to them that day, which they promptly repeated at any given chance out of the watchful gazes of adults. The recess aid had whispered them under her breath, eyes wide behind the sunglasses drooping on her nose. When she grabbed at your arm, she wrenched you up and glanced at your wrist once more, blinking a couple times as if to make sure it wasn’t the blinding sun in her eyes. 

        “Jesus Christ.”

        “Hey, I know him!”

        Then she hauled you off to the principal’s office, who promptly contacted your parents and told them of the incident.

        You were homeschooled from then on, and while other kids participated in afterschool clubs like soccer, basketball, and volleyball, you took classes in self-defense. When other kids were learning how to pass and set, you were learning seven ways to take down a man if he had you in a chokehold. 

        Weak points of the human body that, if struck quickly and at the right angle, would leave it paralyzed. The most efficient techniques for attacking opponents bigger than you. How to debilitate an attacker from behind; from the front; from either side. This was the foreign language you learned while others your age studied Spanish, French, even Japanese. 

        You couldn’t remember the last time you’d encountered a boy your age without the intent to use him as a sparring partner. You doubt you even knew how to carry a conversation with one--yet another everyday part of life you’d never been taught. 

        When you’d hit puberty, it seemingly shook your parents to the core. It was like they forgot they were raising a daughter and not a warrior--at the sight of blood, you could see they fought their inner instincts to ask how you would defend yourself against an attack like such at a later date. 

        It was one of the many battles they’d never thought to prepare you for--the many battles of everyday life. 

        “What is it?”

        “It’s called a pad, dear.”

        “Where do I put it?”

        “In your underwear, dear.”

        “Why am I bleeding?”

        “I-er, didn’t you read that book we gave you, dear?”

        You gave that book a dismissive glance the night before, skimming past chapters labeled “Periods,” “Hair Everywhere,” and “Boys, Boys, Boys” before tossing it aside and picking up Sun Tzu’s Art of War. 

        “Yes, I did.”

        “Good, dear. Then you should know why.”

        Your parents had never intended to be as cold and distant as they were; it was just a side effect of raising a child they had always viewed as destined for death. 

        After all, surely that’s what the ten on the inside of your wrist meant, right? 

        10.

        Ten. 

        十.

        Diez.

        Dix.

        X.

        You knew it in every language. It was easy, since people from all around the world were curious about you. Your parents received emails from scholars and historians on a daily basis, either with new inquiries or old news. Everyone always had the same thing to say: this has never happened before. 

        People have come close, of course. The strong paired with the weak had soulmate numbers paired eights-to-twos or sevens-to-threes. Humans destined to become curses even found themselves with soulmates whose wrists contained nines, while theirs held ones. 

        One figure you’d grown particularly interested in was the King of Curses, Ryoumen Sukuna. The most powerful curse to have ever lived, and even he only had a one on his wrist when he was a human. In every drawing or depiction you’d ever seen, at least one of his four arms had the single digit in black ink on his wrist, if not all of them. 

        So if even he was not worthy of a ten, what kind of unknown monster were you destined to be with?

                                ~~~

        Jujutsu sorcery. The next--and most difficult--form of combat you planned to master. It interested you mainly because it offered a wide variety of mediums with which to focus your power. Though you’d mostly trained with only your body your whole life, occasionally you’d dabbled in using weaponry. 

        Cursed energy, it seemed, was something that you had a large amount of. Born from negative human emotions, the more cursed energy a human harbored, the more damage they could inflict upon others. 

        This was the key to protecting yourself from the unpredictable dangers of your soulmate. Learning and mastering it seemed so easy--get angry, project that anger onto opponents, win the fight. The only problem was that many of your prior training encouraged restraint and objectivity. On the surface, your moods could be flicked on and off like a switch, but deep down you struggled to truly revel in any emotion.

        You practiced in the dim, dark dojo you often borrowed from a local karate class, slashing through mid-air with a bo staff. Sweat dripped down your temple as you envisioned some form in front of you. A shadowy monster of sorts, eyes glowing in its own darkness, dodging each and every one of your swipes. 

        It laughed at your attempts, its translucent body of black smoke shifting and gliding around the room. This was the enemy you always imagined, teasing and taunting you as though you never had a chance to defeat it. Whenever you attempted a vanquishing blow through its heart, whether by fist, bo staff, or wooden sword, it would encircle your blow, forming around it in an oval. 

        A zero. 

        It only took one fight, you battling your shadow creature with a cursed-energy charged bow and arrow, to realize that the monster you’d been picturing was your soulmate. Blue streaks of energy darted around the shaft of every arrow you fired, zipping around faster and faster the more you missed. 

        “C’mon,” you hissed under your breath, swiping a hand through your hair and tugging out a few strands in the process, getting them caught on the finger tab of your leather glove. Silence choked the atmosphere of the dojo, the moon long being the only lighting of the room. A bead of sweat dripped down into your eye, blurring your vision as you nocked another arrow. 

        Another chuckle filled the room, incoherent yet achingly familiar. You stayed low, one knee against the ground while you leant forward on your other, bare foot. But as you searched for your opponent, the dojo seemed to grow. 

        The sparring pads beneath you stiffened, and fresh blades of grass began sprouting up and licking at your bare feet. The white walls and glassy mirrors blurred, giving way to miles and miles of flat, green plain. A gray sky took the place of the low-hanging ceilings, clouds rumbling in the air but never giving off anything more than a light mist that flattened the strays on your scalp. 

        “What the hell…” you trailed off, taking in the new landscape before you. A concentric circle of stark white roses surrounded the large plain you sat in the middle of, and far beyond that was a wall of trees. Fresh air filled your lungs instead of the dank staleness you had been accustomed to during any fight. Now, with so much free space around, you felt so much more relaxed, no longer afraid of damaging the dojo while practicing your cursed energy techniques. 

        “But where the hell am I?” you wondered aloud. It wasn’t like you had teleported anywhere. If anything, it wasn’t you who had changed at all--it was the world around you that had begun to take a new form. You let the leg you kneeled against collapse, slumping to the ground in a figure four. The bow in your hand lay long forgotten beside you.

        It was a new… domain. You knew that word. But from where?

        As you racked your brain, the grass beside you melted away, an object pushing its way to the surface of the soil. A book sat face up, its spine familiarly crinkled from your recent weeks of flipping through it. 

        Cursed Techniques for Dummies.

        Though droplets of rain fell against the paperback book, they never wrinkled the pages. Instead, they slid right off as though the pages were laminated, sinking back into the soft soil underneath you. 

        Sticky notes stood out at the top of the book, small labels written on them in your own handwriting for each chapter. A blue slip with the word “domain” caught your eye, and you snatched up the book, flitting past chapter after chapter of techniques. 

        “‘A confined environment created using large amounts of cursed energy. Within personal domains, the creators are granted greater power at the cost of using an exhausting amount of energy. The longer a creator maintains his or her domain, the more fatigued he or she may become.’” You stopped the pad of your finger at the edge of the sentence, glancing up and around at the space before you. It seemed by the sheer size of your “domain,” your amount of cursed energy was greater than what you expected. 

        Your only concern was how to get out. No part of you felt weary like the book had warned; there was no pressing headache or tiring muscles. In fact, you felt more energetic like you had in ages. Perhaps it was the boost in your powers that your own domain had promised, or perhaps it was something else entirely.

        “All right, all right,” you glanced around, critiquing the area, “definitely seems like my kinda place.” Pushing yourself up onto your feet, you reached low for your bow, patting your back and feeling for your quiver. After you found it, you tugged an arrow out and nocked it, pulling back the string with a deep breath in and searching for your target. 

        “Come on out, buddy. May as well play while the going is good, eh?”

        But your shadow never appeared. The familiar black mist you always seemed to summon while practicing alone never manifested before your eyes no matter how many times you spun yourself dizzy. 

        It was gone. In your domain, it was gone. 

        The thought seemed to leave your chest a little lighter, and the blue streaks of lightning dancing around the shaft of your arrow sizzled and melted away. You let your arms fall to your sides, rolling your shoulders back and finally letting out your breath. 

        Then your eyes returned to the book still lying on the ground, open as a small breeze ruffled the pages. “Cursed energy, huh?” you hummed thoughtfully, setting the bow back on the ground while reaching for the book. Rustles and crackles sounded behind you, and when you fell back with the book in your hands, you collapsed into a cushioned sofa, somewhat out of place among the grassy plain.

        “What else ya got for me?”

                                ~~~

        “Domain expansion!”

        The dank alley’s downpour faded away into a fine spray of droplets, and the sky lightened from pitch black to slate gray. Crumbling asphalt and busted blue Dumpsters blurred away, replaced by a field of green grass and blossoming white roses. In the distance, the trees shivered with the force of the curse’s blows.

        But they never made it any farther than that. You’d spent five years mastering that technique after accidentally slipping into your domain on your eighteenth birthday. An insurmountable wall of trees barred any enemy from entering your domain, allowing you time and distance to steady yourself and recover during a fight. 

        In all of your ventures through books on cursed energy techniques, you’d never once come across anything like it. Domains were made to be advantageous fighting grounds, not havens for rest and recovery. But due to your lack of official training in any form of jujutsu sorcery, you had to use mostly unconventional tactics in many of your battles against curses throughout the last few years. And, you had to admit it worked quite well. 

        Another strong blow shivered your barrier of trees, their branches swaying from the force, but it only served to worsen your growing headache more than anything else. You crumbled onto your hands and knees, completely missing the leather sofa you kept summoned for quick naps or reading times, and curled up into a ball on your side, cradling your ribs beneath your palms.

        This cursed spirit was unlike any other you’d ever faced. It crawled on all four of its twisted arms with jagged bones tearing out of the leathery skin of its back, forming points like spades. At least three times your size, the monstrosity had three eyes forming an upside down triangle and a mouth layered with three rows of shark-like teeth. The drool spilling from its mouth was frothy and green, and when it had hit the asphalt of the dead-end alley in which you’d found it, it bubbled against the ground and melted the tar. 

        Inside of its wrist lay a “1.”

        “What the fuck,” you wheezed, squeezing your eyelids closed hard enough to see stars. “What the fuck kinda steroids is that thing on?”

        There was a constant ache in your side from when it had first slammed you into the concrete, no doubt leaving a rib cracked and broken. You just hoped there was no internal bleeding. 

        “Holy shit.” You scrambled up onto your hands and knees, coughing and sputtering on a sudden flood of metallic liquid climbing up your throat, painting the patch of grass crimson. Subconsciously, you acknowledged the black and blue knuckles on your dominant hand, no doubt caused by trying to throw the first punch after the cursed spirit had dodged your arrow. 

        10.

        Son of a bitch. 

        “Fuck!” You slammed a bare palm against the grass, teeth gritted and gaze narrowed. “Who are you?!”

        Like usual, you expected no response. 

        Except something had changed. 

        That damned laugh you had always heard but could never make out echoed in the distance, perking your ears. The same one that had haunted your dreams since you first realized what your soulmark meant. The same one you envisioned battling each time you trained.

        The laugh that promised defeat.

        With haste, you fumbled onto your feet, ignoring an oncoming wave of nausea that resulted, and eyed the wall of trees encapsulating your domain.

        Your body wasn’t ready to leave its refuge, bones and muscles aching, crying out with every movement. When you stepped forward, your knees wobbled. When you released your domain, a splitting headache blinded you for half a second. 

        Panic struck when you patted down your body only to remember the curse had crushed your bow to splinters, sparing only the lone arrow in your quiver on your back for self-defense. 

        Apparently, though, you didn’t need it. The cursed spirit, still snarling and chomping its slobbering jaw at you, had each of its palms stuck to the large puddle of melted tar that had formed beneath it in your absence. When more of its own saliva dripped from its mouth, it slid down the dip in the alley the puddle had formed and made contact with the hands of the spirit, who screeched in pain. Welts rose from where the saliva made contact, and it dawned on you that the curse wasn’t immune to its own acid. 

        Without a second thought, you reached back for the arrow, not bothering a glance at the serrated tip before slicing it through the soft tissue of the monster’s throat. Black blood coated your hand by the time you tugged the arrow from its flesh, hot and sticky against your skin but otherwise harmless. 

        The cursed spirit crumpled to the ground with a silent cry, more and more dark liquid pooling around it and spilling into the cracks of the asphalt. The first time you had encountered and gutted a spirit, you wanted to hurl at even the sight of such a deformed monster.

        Now, you gave in to that urge, especially when a small, long object slithered out of its slashed neck, riding a fresh wave of blood that carried it all the way to your feet and thumping against your combat boot.

        “Dear God.” You wiped the back of your unbloodied hand against your mouth, grimacing. “What in the Goddamn fuck- is that a finger?!” You stepped away, reeling back and kicking the monster in the stomach one last time. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

        The slumped form jolted from the force of the kick, but otherwise remained still. You studied it long and hard one last time before turning away. “Yeah, you know what? Never mind. Dumb question.” 

        Your gaze found the finger once more, eyeing the long, sharp nail and the bone sticking out of its amputated end. It looked nothing like an average human’s finger, the skin far too wrinkled and ragged. But then what was it? And why would the cursed spirit eat it?

        Of course, there was always the chance the curse had an affinity for such snacks. 

        But you had also read that some objects interwoven with enough cursed energy could grant anyone immense power when used or consumed. 

        You guessed, with it being a finger and all, the cursed spirit had chosen the latter route. 

        “Ugh, am I really gonna do this?” You squatted next to the finger, lip curled as you reached out your hand.

        In one quick breath, you snagged the finger, hucked it back into your empty quiver, wiped your hand on your pants with a “gross, gross, gross,” and sprinted back to your apartment to take a two-hour long decontaminating shower to rid yourself of the days events and more. 

                                ~~~

        The plane, you’d decided after being thirteen minutes into a fourteen-hour long flight, was too stuffy. Of course, you shouldn’t have expected much. When the principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High had called and offered you a teaching job for future jujutsu sorcerers, he had been a little hesitant to shell out the money for a twenty-thousand dollar first-class flight for someone he had yet to interview. 

        The call had been… interesting, to say the least. 

        “Is this YN YLN?” a man with a monotonous voice had asked with a hint of a Japanese accent.

        “This is she. Who’s asking?”

        “My name is Masamichi Yaga, and I’m calling on behalf of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. Recently, I’ve gotten word that you’ve come across a cursed object we’ve been searching for.”

        “You mean the finger?” Ah shit, maybe you were supposed to keep quiet about that.

        “Yes… the finger. We were impressed to hear you defeated a cursed spirit in possession of the object all on your own, as well.”

        “Shi-uh, I mean, thanks.”

        “One of our teachers witnessed the fight and reported back to us about your natural skill in jujutsu sorcery despite any professional training. If you’re open to it, we’d like to interview you for a potential job at our school, if only to introduce our students to your technique. How does that sound?”

        Expensive as hell is what it had sounded like. But also… “Hold on, someone saw that fight?” The laugh…

        “Yes, one of our best. And if the ten on your wrist is any indication, we think you’ll want to come meet him.”

        You had tensed up on the sofa, pulling the phone away with wide eyes and pinching yourself to make sure you weren’t actually asleep. While holding your phone, your bare wrist faced up, the bold, black ten almost grinning at you.

        The Ten. He had watched you in that fight. 

        The fucking laugh. 

        “Ms. YLN?”

        “Sorry,” you hurriedly pressed your phone back to your ear, heart rattling around beneath your ribcage. “Sorry, what did you say?”

        “Would you like to come over for an interview? All expenses paid.”

        A potential job served up on a golden platter. It was almost too good to be true. Almost. Your soulmate obviously had some sway at this school, and the thought made you nervous. His number obviously made him a physical threat, but if he also had a whole school for jujutsu sorcery under his thumb…

        Obviously, you were soulmates with a highly intelligent, professional individual. Just your luck. 

        But who were you to reject the benefits from such a man? You’d barely been scraping by with the money you’d gathered while eradicating curses for the last few years. The evident favoritism, no matter how much it bothered you, was, in the end, giving you a once-in-a-lifetime chance at a career.

        “How could I say no?”

         And that’s how you found yourself on a fourteen-hour flight to Tokyo, sitting stiffly in the blue-leather chair next to and surrounded by several people with personal space and snoring issues. 

        The mark on your wrist burned, and out of nervous habit you ran the tip of your finger over the number repeatedly. Your head pounded along with your growing anxiety, begging for release, and with one more sip of the water the flight attendant had offered you, you sank into your domain, allowing the cramped cabin full of people to fade away into a flourishing plain of lime green grass and pale pink roses. 

                                ~~~

        Tokyo--you’d discovered after seven hours of wandering--was gorgeous. After getting off your flight, you’d quickly realized you’d jumped the gun, having completely glossed over the necessary prerequisites for traveling to a foreign country. 

        To be fair, it wasn’t completely your fault. The Duolingo app wasn’t doing you any favors, what with struggling to download and all. 

        And so stumbling on and off several subway trips, wedging yourself between and through hundreds of random strangers, and battling with your phone for cell reception and data, you’d slowly and carefully traversed over every inch of Tokyo except for Tokyo Jujutsu High. 

        Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but your feet were certainly sticking to those claims. Despite reveling in and among the glowing billboards, advanced architecture, and homemade delicacies that seemed to line every main street, your body--and wallet--could only handle so much indulgence. After walking around what you were almost positive was the same park for the third time, you decidedly gave in to the blisters forming on your heels and the cramps biting at the bottoms of your feet, collapsing against a wooden bench and moaning in relief. 

        Your first debacle with Google Maps ensued prior to you finally escaping the Tokyo Airport, a fiasco in its own right. It was then that you remembered jujutsu sorcery and even sorcery in general was considered fictitious nonsense, and that googling a school that centered around said nonsense was futile. 

        When you checked your phone, you noticed that some deity had finally taken pity on your soul. A message from the same man that had contacted you, sent three hours ago with a link labeled “Directions to Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.”

        You’d never been so frustrated yet relieved at the same time. Three hours ago? A demon that had formed deep in your belly from your lack of sleep within the last two days combined with the rumbling in your stomach and the aching in the entirety of your body swelled and grew ten times the size, blurring every rational thought in your mind. 

        “FUCK!” You slammed a curled fist into the bench, reeling back in shock when the wood beneath you split in two from the force. Pain radiated from your knuckles, one of them split and bleeding. Just the sight of it pulled you back to all those days of sparring with other people--other boys--and accidentally playing too rough. 

        It was a habit--all your life you’d been pitied for your perceived lack of natural strength. All of the historians and soulmark recorders who’d ever called your parents to tell them about your never-before seen phenomenon had ended every conversation with a “Maybe she should take some self-defense classes. Just in case, you know?”

        You had black belts in seven kinds of martial arts, but instead of being labeled a prodigy, everyone who ever saw the 10 etched in deep black ink inside your wrist viewed you as a poor, unfortunate soul. Every match you’d ever had ended with a bow followed by a “Does your wrist really say ‘ten’? That’s insane!” A gold medal would be placed around your neck or a trophy in your hands, but a simple glance at your wrist and everything you’d ever worked for was stolen from you. 

        “Oh, that’s why.” You knew that’s what they thought. And you hated that it was partly right.

        However, the opportunity to work in a new country with a school full of people who didn’t know of your infamous soulmark (or at least you hoped they didn’t) felt like a breath of cool air for the first time in your life. These people didn’t know you. All they knew was that you were coming to their school with a cursed object and large amounts of potential. 

        That’s why you liked jujutsu sorcery over any other fighting technique you’d done; it prioritized mastering your own fighting style. So, how could someone ever beat you in a fighting style they’d never even seen before?

        They couldn’t. And you loved that. 

        What you didn’t love, though, was the mile-long walk up an extensive trail of white bricks leading you through what should have been the pearly gates of Tokyo Jujutsu High. The second you reached the opening to the school, you felt like army-crawling the rest of the way to the main building where your interview was to take place. 

        You couldn’t though, wanting to save face in front of the…student? Teacher? Whatever he was, he was walking toward you. White hair stuck up from the top of his head, matching oddly with his long, slender body not completely unlike a paint brush. While you battled to catch your breath near the entrance, he approached from about forty feet away. From there, you gauged he was about a head and a half taller than you, his hair only helping aggrandize his height. 

        There was a kind of dignity in the way he walked, confidence oozing off him and curling a corner of his lips. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he was dressed in a fitted, all-black uniform you’d immediately assumed was the mandatory attire for students at the school. He must have felt your wandering eyes because his smirked lips cracked open a sliver, revealing blinding white teeth and a tongue bitten between them. 

        Your feet began moving before your mind realized what was happening and took over. You swerved out of his path and trekked onward in the opposite direction, only realizing that the staggering heartbeat pounding in your ears was practically deafening when his head tilted back to cackle and you couldn’t hear it. The thought saddened you, and a wave of embarrassment overtook that sadness. Head dipping to hide your blush--What the hell was wrong with you!--you let your gaze study the ground, only catching a glimpse of the ants he was about to crush just before his foot steamrolled right over them. Then the chuckling grew louder. 

        Yep, definitely some sort of held-back senior.

        You turned back to watch him as he walked away, fluffy hair bobbing with each step, and it finally clicked. “Was he wearing a blindfold?” you mumbled, eyes wide and arms dangling helplessly by your sides. The suitcases you’d been lugging around for what must have been eight hours now rolled to a stop beside you, and you placed a palm on one of the handles to steady yourself. Your body was buzzing at the sound of his deep chuckle.

        Just who the hell was that guy?

        “YLN YN?” A deep voice suddenly spoke beside you, shocking you out of your stupor with a flinch. You struggled to drag your gaze to the man who loomed beside you, another absolutely terrifying colossus with broad shoulders, sunglasses, and deep lines in his brow. While you wondered what the hell was in the water, the man, who introduced himself as the principal you’d spoken to over the phone, asked, “What’s your first impression?”

        “Of what?” You glanced around, suddenly nervous he meant the school layout you’d been too distracted to observe yet. 

        He gestured his head toward the man still strolling away, who was now whistling a tune. “Gojo Satoru. That’s the teacher who recommended you, the one we believe has your matching soulmark.”

        Your mind fell blank, and your eye began to twitch. 

        10.

        “That was him? That’s the guy who’s worthy of a freaking ten?!”

        “People tend to say that,” he remarked monotonously. In utter disbelief, you looked at the principal, then at the man, then at the principal again, investigating his face for a hint of jest, but it soon became apparent he wasn’t that kind of man. 

        “Are you serious?” The words still slipped out without your volition. 

        He didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded towards the ground where the man had walked earlier. 

        No ant massacre. No little ant workers losing their little ant minds and scrambling around the trampled bodies of their little ant friends. Just a perfectly organized, studious line of tiny black dots holding salvaged crumbs in the same orderly way they’d done it just before the man had--evidently not--stepped on them. 

        “How the hell…”

        You’d seen it. With your own two eyes, you’d watched him step on them. At the very least, if somehow his ginormous feet had managed to miss all fifty or so of them, you’d think they’d at least be scurrying around trying to find better cover. 

        “It’s one of his techniques,” the principal commented, piquing your interest. “It makes him relatively invincible, almost untouchable. It’s called- er, what are you doing?”

        You stay crouched beside your open suitcase, rifling through the folded clothes and toiletries to get to the zipped up, hidden compartment of the hardshell reserved for valuable items. When you fished out what you had been looking for, the principal hummed in thought, but stayed otherwise silent.

        Rising from your squat, you clicked each end of the compound bow into place, extending it from its compact position. Then you nocked one of the few carbon-shafted arrows you’d been able to fit into your suitcase diagonally, narrowing your gaze on your target as you pulled back the bowstring comfortably close to your cheek. One twitch of your fingers and the arrow was let loose, flying towards the middle of your soulmate’s back. 

        He froze at the sound, and you sucked in a breath when it hit its mark. 

        He’s a ten, he’ll be fine. He’s a ten, he’ll be fine. The mantra repeated itself in your head every second your soulmate stood stock still. 

        But then he twisted around, and the arrow stayed levitating in place. Your legs almost collapsed beneath you in…amazement? Maybe relief? You weren’t quite sure. You watched as his head tilted to one side, observing the arrow now pointed towards the center of his chest. Then, with a half-grin, he untucked a hand from his pocket and snagged it from the air with an unceremonious snort. 

        “Well that wasn’t very nice.” He waggled it at you like a discipling finger.

        “Ten,” you could only mumble in response. It was the only thing running through your mind right now, the only word you could even speak. Your eyes were still wide in shock, locked on the arrow that had somehow floated in mid-air. You’d always planned on testing your soulmate in some way, but you’d never really tried to predict the outcome. You’d only ever planned on a before, never an after. 

        “Zero,” he simpered, a teasing lilt in his tone. Though your mind began to hyperfocus on his taunting tendencies, the rest of your body suffered the after-effects of a shiver running down your spine. Would your name sound just as captivating as your number, you wondered.

        “I’m afraid I have a mission to get to,” he continued, unzipping his jacket, “but we’ll be discussing this-” he flourished the arrow at you once more “-later.” Then he pocketed it within his black jacket, zipping himself back up before reaching up to his blindfold. He peeled up one edge of the black cloth, and your jaw grew slack at the sight of long, white lashes bordering a hypnotizing, iridescent blue iris.

        You barely took note of his wink before he slid the blindfold back into place, turning on his heel and waving a hand behind him. “See you soon, zero.”

                                ~~~

        One sip of the golden, bubbly liquid left a hint of apple on your tongue and a slight tingle at the back of your throat. You relaxed further into the cushions of the sofa, sweeping your tongue over the residual foam on your upper lip.

        A cloudless sky filled your domain, and a slight breeze blew back the stray hairs on your forehead whenever the sun grew too hot. You set the flute of champagne back onto the coffee table you’d summoned in front of you just beside the open bottle. Its sides were still sticky from the froth that had overflowed, and the cork was long absorbed by the soil. 

        Japan, you thought, was going to be wonderful. You were still in search of a permanent home in the city, but for the time being the principal--Yaga, he preferred--offered you a dorm on campus. On your campus.

        After presenting him with the wrinkly finger you’d so lovingly confined in thirty layers of paper towels, duct tape, and three Ziploc bags, along with a haphazard resume you’d concocted on three hours of sleep, he’d proposed a trial run of a job. 

        You were a temp. 

        Not only that, you were a babysitting temp.

        “You really think I’m qualified to teach first years?” you asked, though immediately regretted after remembering the “27 Dos and Don’ts for Interviews” you’d memorized beforehand. 

        Do build yourself up.

        Don’t reveal what you suck at in any way possible, no siree bob.

        “Well, I’ll admit that’s not all I expect of you. We are not in desperate need of a first-year teacher, but we believe that the current teacher is someone you could have a good influence on.” It was the first time the daunting man before you had ever avoided your gaze, fiddling with one of the many teddy bears that crowded his office on his lap. 

        The words sunk in after a moment, and the breath was stolen from your chest. 

        “Hold on. Are you saying that I could be working alongside that guy?”

        “Yes.” He nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose for just a second. “As much as we believe in his abilities, it is his…” he paused, searching for the right word, “personality that we fear he may pass onto the students instead of his expertise. We don’t need duplicates of Gojo-” he dragged out a sigh,“-but I fear we may already have some in the works. Thus, I hope you may be able to counteract his impression on them.”

        The seat beneath you had long grown hard and stiff, and you fidgeted on top of it. 

        “After all,” he set down his teddy bear, “there was a reason we sent him to report on you in the first place, Ms. YLN.”

        The situation was bittersweet with a little more sweet than bitter, so you had accepted the conditions. Though the thought of working alongside your soulmate had appealed to you at first, that had been before you remembered you’d shot an arrow at him. 

        And how he’d smirked afterwards.

        The wink he’d given you once more resurfaced to the forefront of your mind, and you dropped your head into your hands with a groan. A rapid thumping started in your chest, and you reached out for the flute once more, swallowing the remaining liquid. 

        You cursed under your breath after sweeping the back of your hand across your lips. “Can’t believe it’s one wink and I’m blushing like a little schoolgirl. What the hell’s wrong with me?” With a shake of your head, you kicked off your boots and reclined horizontally along the couch, squirming to get yourself into a comfortable position before dropping an arm over your eyes. 

        A sigh escaped you, and you tried to silence your wandering mind by zoning in on the sounds around you. Wind rustling the grass, new, fresh raindrops pattering against the soil, and your own heart slowly pounding. The cold began to nip at your skin, and you pondered summoning a blanket. 

        Then a rumbling of the ground below you caused you to drop your champagne glass. As it was swallowed up by the earth, you twisted to sit up straight, brows furrowed and eyes searching the line of trees hundreds of yards away. 

        Another tremor, this one strong enough to rattle the bottle on the coffee table. Glass clinked against wood as it finally tipped over, spilling its contents all over the polished surface. You could feel the trembling through your entire body now, teeth chattering as you clutched onto the couch, almost slipping right off.

        Your bow and a full quiver of arrows were spat out by a sudden crack in the earth that sealed itself after they surfaced, and you gathered them up into your arms. Unsteadily rising to your feet, you splayed your arms out for balance, body wavering in effort to not tip over against the force of the quake.

        “What the fuck is happening?” you barked, head darting back and forth to search along the circle of trees around you. Their long branches grew entangled with one another, each thick trunk wobbling as though it was being uprooted as the trees swayed in a new, far stronger gust of wind. Rain poured now, and you slipped on a jacket that emerged from the grass, forcing the hood up and over your head before setting an arrow and pulling back the bowstring.

        Even through the sights you couldn’t see anything, couldn’t aim for anything. Everything was blurry as your eyes rattled around in your skull, a headache born from the hard vibrations of your domain pinching and stabbing at your brain. 

        Someone was trying to get in, you realized. 

        And it was working.

        One more tremble and you dropped to your hands and knees, crying out in agony. It felt like someone had forced their way into your brain and gripped each half, trying to split it apart. You shoved your face against the damp grass, hoping for some relief while bracing both hands behind your neck. Your jaw ached from how hard you clenched your teeth, and you were almost positive blood had begun dripping from your nose. 

        Stop, make it stop. Go away, just make it stop. Stop! Please!

        You felt your body go slack, too tired from being tense for an extended period of time, and you rolled over, allowing the stars in your vision to dance until watching them was too exhausting. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you wormed your arms out from under you to splay out at your sides, the quakes palpable under your fingertips.

        And then it stopped. 

        All of it--all the pain, the headache, the trembling underneath you. All of it had disappeared without a trace, as though it were never even there.

        “Well now, almost caused me a little trouble there.”

        You didn’t even have enough energy to flinch nor to contest when two arms slid underneath your back and knees, hauling you up and a few seconds later dropping you down onto what you assumed was your leather sofa. 

        Two fingers peeled open your eyelid, and white hair filled your vision. Gleaming blue eyes watched you in amusement, and in your peripheral you noticed upturned lips. 

        Such a…dick.

        Your soulmate hummed and pulled his hands away, allowing your lid to close before pressing a hand to your forehead. “Quite a fight you put up for a while there. Almost had me breaking a sweat. Can’t imagine you’re feeling any good.”

        But, to your slight dismay, you were. The feeling of his hands against you, on you, helped the echoes of pain still haunting your body fade away. A strong scent of pine mixed with clean musk and citrus flooded your senses. Unauthorized bliss buzzed along your bloodstream, goading your drained form to lean closer to the sudden source of endorphins.

        “Like shit,” you mumbled. “Your fault.”

        Gojo chuckled. “Maybe next time you should just let me in.” 

        “Hell no.”

        “Mmhmm, we’ll see about that.”

        The hand drifted from your forehead, and in a shameful state of panic you whined under your breath. When he laughed louder, you knew you didn’t want to open your eyes and see the smirk that would greet you.

        “So needy.” His hand palmed your cheek, thumb brushing the curve of your cheekbone. “Guess I’ll just have to be your doctor until you’re feeling better. I doubt you mind.”

        “Fuck…you…”

        “Soon, zero.”

        “Pervert.”

        He made a noise of objection, but rather than argue with your half-unconscious self, he grumbled something under his breath like “We’ll see about that,” before busying himself with prodding at your face with a tissue. You cracked open your eyes a sliver to see he’d pulled the coffee table up beside you, curling his form over yours to spare you from the easing downpour.

        The tips of his white hair dripped water onto your couch cushions, and only then did you realize his usual blindfold was down and around his neck. 

        Holy shit, is that really the same guy?

        Your gaze traveled farther down, brows furrowing in confusion when you realized he wasn’t wearing the same black jacket from before. In its place was a white, long-sleeved button up, the top button undone and the fabric entirely soaked through. 

        “I heard you got the job.” His voice dragged you out of your daze, forcing your attention up to his face. His eyes flashed when they met yours, an unidentifiable emotion flitting through them that left no trace a second later. “Congratulations.”

        “Yeah,” you shut your eyes once more, hoping to halt any heat rising to your face. “You're sitting on the champagne I was drinking.”

        “Ew.”

        “To be fair, you’re the one who spilled it.”

        “You could’ve warned me.”

        “Where’s the fun in that?”

        He didn’t respond, but his gaze was almost as palpable at the fingertips resting on your cheek. His other hand had long tossed away the tissue he’d used to clean up your bloody nose and was now propped on the couch cushions beside you so he could lean over you better. The rain had slowed to a drizzle now. 

        “So you heard I got the job, but did you hear I’m your babysitter too?”

        He sniggered. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Though you may be more enjoyable to have around.”

        You swallowed at that. “Oh?” Beneath your front was a raging pile of nerves you struggled to stifle. “I’m flattered.”

        “People always are.”

        Well that certainly helped. Your lips pursed in effort to hold back a sneer, but you opened your eyes to glare at him. 

        “Never mind.”

        “Nuh-uh,” he waggled his finger in your face, “can’t take it back now. Speaking of, I think I’m due an apology.”

        Both his hands abandoned their post on and around you, leaving you feeling cold and bare. When he reached toward your body, though, was when you wriggled to get away. He latched onto you, snagging something layered over your body as equally soaked as his shirt. After he lifted it up, you recognized it as his jacket, and something warm filled your chest while he fished something out of it. 

        Okay, he’s one cocky son of a bitch, but that was sweet.

        Then he revealed one of your arrows, the black metal tip all too familiarly engraved with your initials.

        “Anything to say for yourself?” He waved it over your head tauntingly, even tapping the tip of your nose with part of the shaft. 

        You smacked your lips shut, avoiding your gaze. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

        One long, slender finger poked the side of your forehead. “You sure? There must have been some reason for you trying to kill me.”

        You fell silent, and it took two seconds for him to grow bored with your lack of response. “Maybe,” he reached over your body, slipping past his jacket he’d lain over you once more, “just maybe it had something to do with this.” A warm grip on your wrist tugged it into sight, and Gojo slid down the sleeve of your jacket with his other hand. 

        The way the number ten was written matched his personality, you realized. It was dark and firmly settled into your skin with a certain amount of force behind it, but its effortless flow from one digit to the next displayed a level of insouciance you’d only ever seen in the man before you. 

        Gojo’s eyes studied the 10 with intense curiosity, like it was whispering secrets in his ears. His lips squeezed together before parting, words he couldn’t quite seem to grasp lying in wait upon them.

        “I-” you broke the silence first, staring at the number as well, though mostly to avoid his burning gaze, “-I imagine you being born with a zero was much less a dramatic experience than mine.” Your gaze fell to his own wrist, something you’d had yet to see bare. “...Right?”

        The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. “My number was an attestation to the power of the Gojo family. You’d think they expected it of me.” He ran the pad of his thumb over the 10, a grin splitting his face when goosebumps rose from his actions. “So, I suppose, then, you may get a pass for shooting at me. But I’ll be keeping this.” His unoccupied hand slipped the arrow back into his jacket pocket. “Maybe I’ll just hang it on my wall from now on.”

        “And if I need it back?”

        “Nope, it's mine now.”

        “In exchange, then,” you sat up straighter, gulping “do I at least get to see your mark?” 

        His mouth softened into a small smile, and he offered his hand to you. “I suppose that’s fair.” Unlike yours, his body did not shiver at your touch. The second your fingertips grazed the palm of his hand, a sound not unlike a purr left him, and you did not bother looking up to his face, already knowing his eyes were on yours in return. 

        You’d grown accustomed to his stare by now, feeling it was something akin to sun rays burning into your skin. Already, too, you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

        0. 

        A little lopsided, larger on one end rather than the other. Bold and black against his lighter colored wrist, and soft to the touch. A sort of narcissistic satisfaction flooded your chest, and your body felt all the warmer for it. 

        “You must like what you see.” Gojo’s voice dragged you out of your reverie. “I know I do.”

        You only realized you were smiling when it fell at his words. Such an ass. You let your hands fall from his wrist onto your lap, and, acknowledging the urge to reach for him once more, you occupied your hands by picking at your fingernails. 

        “Your blush is adorable, you know that?” Without warning, his hand cupped your cheek. He ran his fingertips along your reddened skin, dancing them over your cheekbone and running them behind your ear along with a strand of hair. All the while, he studied your face, chuckling at the veil of wariness that took over. “So cute,” he mumbled. 

        Then he stood up.

        “Well then. I guess I got what I came here for.” His sudden movements gave you whiplash, and you flinched back when he rose to his feet. With two palms planted on his back, he pushed his abdomen forward, groaning at the stretch. 

        You bit your tongue. 

        “Now, I gotta go. It was nice seeing you, zero.” He grasped the blindfold around his neck, sending you one last wink before securing it over his eyes. 

        Out from under the weight of his crystalline gaze, you relaxed back onto your couch, sucking in a short breath. 

        “Three days from now we have our first mission together,” he reached for the coat over your lap, pulling it on and patting down the pockets. The corner of his lips rose. “I’d say be there on time, but I’d hate to keep you waiting. Expect a half-hour delay or more.” 

        He paused and pursed his lips, his head tilting to one side. “Actually, you know what, I’ll just come find you. Make it easier that way.” With that, he turned and walked away, throwing a wave over his shoulder. “See you then, zero.

        “Oh, and next time, I suggest you just let me in. Save yourself the trouble--you’ll know when it’s me.”

                                ~~~

        A fierce wind whistled through the abandoned building, its wooden walls crackling and crying at its touch. Spare leaves scraped along the ground along with broken glass from both fallen photographs and busted windows. Through every hole in the wall filtered in a bit of sunlight, highlighting the dust you and Gojo kicked up with your every footstep. The floorboards underneath you wobbled uncertainly. 

        “Nanami said authorities reported two suspicious persons hiding out inside this building.” You glanced up from the text message, eyeing the torn, bloodstained furniture that lay askew around the room. “So that means there’s two demons after one finger.” You pocketed your phone. 

        “God, that sounds like the worst porn ever.” You hurled a glare at Gojo, who raised his hands in defense. “Am I wrong?”

        “You’re perverted is what you are,” you sighed, massaging a finger against your temple. 

        “But not wrong,” he sang as you both walked on. 

        Another strong gust of wind tore into the room, slamming open the entry door and blowing a tuft of your hair into your face. You spat it out with an annoyed grumble, but just as you reached up to pull the final strands from your lips, Gojo caught your wrist and, in turn, your attention. 

        “Over there,” he gestured his head to a side room that split off from the one you currently stood in. It appeared to be a bedroom judging by the yellowed mattress visible from the doorway, but a rancid scent of spoiled eggs intermingling with dried blood wafted toward you from its direction. With the scent came palpable cursed energy. 

        “One for me, one for you?” you asked, blindly reaching for an arrow in your quiver while removing your bow from around your chest. The energy was so strong you were almost choking on it, and when you took a deep breath to relieve yourself from the pressure, you gagged at the taste.

        Gojo paused, staring at you for a second and watching as you loaded the arrow and pulled back the string. “We’ll see,” he said, reaching up and removing his blindfold. 

        Your grip on your bow faltered, and you relaxed your hold on the arrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

        Gojo did not bother waiting for you nor answering your question, instead disappearing from your side, blue eyes glowing and body cocooned in a sort of translucent, wavering bubble. 

        Then all hell broke loose. 

        A broken squeal pierced your ears before sizzling black blood painted the doorway. The building began rattling more from Gojo’s fight than from the wind outside, and you feared the infrastructure was going to collapse from the pressure. Anxious--and perhaps feeling a bit left out--you darted towards the room, making the subconscious decision to avoid the splatter on your way. 

        The second you stepped foot inside, you found yourself in a domain. From what you could tell, it wasn’t Gojo’s. Though you’d never actually seen his domain, you figured it would look a little less monstrous than the one you were currently in. 

        Concrete rubble crunched underneath your feet. Glistening stalagmites rose from the floor, oozing with a black liquid not unlike tar that made it appear as if they were melting. The black abyss you stood in was sweltering, and almost instantly you felt your long sleeve jacket and pants begin sliding and sticking against your skin. A green fog hung in the air, a medium for the light of the crescent moon dangling in the sky. A monster’s domain indeed. 

        In all your time admiring, you almost missed the figure bounding toward you. A long blue tongue reached out to lap at the side of your face, and you sidestepped just in time, shivering at the hot breath that still managed to reach you where the tongue had missed. The creature blew past you completely, four spindly legs scrambling for purchase in the uneven rubble. 

        “Holy shit,” you gasped, eyes wide as you loaded and aimed your bow. Your chest pounded hard enough to flood your ears, and your heartbeat was palpable in your fingertips. When the monster’s head, resembling a spider’s with a hundred eyes all locked on you and fangs drooping from its mouth, sat on top of your arrow point, you let your fingers slip from the string. 

        “YN!” Gojo’s voice perked your ears, and just as you turned to find him, another spirit, this one twice your size with sharp thorns covering every inch of its body, reached with one large, three-fingered hand for your head, its two eyes deep pits of fire and rage.

        And despair, but you figured it was only your own gaze reflected within his. 

        You envisioned it to be somewhat like a strong man twisting the cap off a pickle jar, or perhaps even squeezing a tomato in his fist hard enough that it bursts, juices flying everywhere. Maybe it would be like being flung around like a ragdoll, body flailing as your head stays trapped in his palm. 

        Whatever it was, you were certain it wasn’t going to feel nice. 

        In one last, hail-Mary attempt, you tried to sink into your domain, to feel the light droplets and the forgiving sofa one last time. “Please,” you whispered.

        Everything grew dark and quiet. White noise rang in your ears, fluctuating with each racing heartbeat that shook its way through your body. When you did open your eyes, there was nothing, not even black darkness in your sight. 

        Nothing. 

        Nothing but a pounding headache, like someone trying to split your head open and read your thoughts like an open book. 

        “YN! YN, wake up!”

        It was him, that voice. But something was wrong, wasn’t it?

        “Come on, you can’t do this to me--I just found you!”

        It was distant, like usual. So far away you could barely hear him. But there was something about his tone–why was he so scared?

        “Wake up for me, YN. Please, just look at me.”

        He wasn’t laughing. His voice sounded so weird when he wasn’t laughing at your defeat, and isn’t that what he’d always done?

        Perhaps, maybe, it was because you’d won for once?

        Or, perhaps, maybe, he’d lost?

        Nonetheless, a short laugh escaped you. A small giggle, accompanied by a snort. Then another chuckle, louder now, because it was just so funny!

        How could a ten possibly lose?

        The very idea was hilarious!

        You cackled louder, wheezing in effort as you braced two hands over your stomach, trying to ease the pain of the action. Your own howls met your ears, sounding even more ridiculous coming from you, and that made you laugh harder. 

        He had gone silent. 

        You opened your eyes a sliver, gray, drizzling skies dampening your face and mingling with the tears already present. Your wrinkled clothes, still damp with sweat, grew cold and clung to your skin. The grass underneath you tickled your bare palms. 

        Gojo. Gojo loomed over you, long fingers paused in their obvious raking through his white hair. His blindfold was nowhere to be seen, and his chest rose and sank in a swift pattern. 

        Opalescent eyes scoured your face, and it was when you felt a pressure on your lips that you realized he had moved to cradle your head in his palms. 

        “What,” he whispered, choking on a breath, “-What was so fucking funny?” 

        All the laughter had been sapped away, slowly deteriorated along with your energy as you let your head relax in his hold. Your hands reached up on their own volition and grasped at his wrist, trying to move him or stop him from moving, you weren’t quite sure. 

        “Am I alive?” you pondered aloud. 

        Gojo shook his head in disbelief, gnawing angrily on his lip before hissing a curse under his breath. He made a move to release his hold on you, and that was when you discovered you were holding him there.

        “Yes. Yes, you are, and I can’t fucking believe it.”

        “You know what’s funny?”

        His eyes snapped to yours. “No, I really don’t. Please, for the love of God, enlighten me.”

        “All my life, I thought you would be this… this sort of invincible god. A ten. I thought you were the one who was going to kill me.”

        “YN-”

        “But you didn’t. You saved me.” You removed his hands from your face, with an evidently necessary amount of force, and wrestled yourself up into a sitting position, your legs splayed out before you. Gojo kneeled beside you, one of his hands insistent on your back. “You were so scared, Satoru. But you shouldn’t be.” You couldn’t help it; you reached up to cup his cheek, wiping away a raindrop from under his eye. “Because no matter how much I don’t like it, I know you have been and you always will be there to save me.”

        Gojo chewed on the inside of his lip, eyes examining every inch of your face as if he was trying to imprint it into memory. You doubted you looked as great as his gaze implied--your hair was a rat’s nest on top of your head, your entire body was trembling, and your eyes were still unsteady from the blows you’d almost taken amidst the fight. 

        “You’re gonna be such a pain in my ass, zero,” he hummed.

        Then his lips captured yours.

                                ~~~

        “So, you…eat…the fingers?”

        “Yep.”

        “Well… are they good?”

        “Nope.”

        You purse your lips and nod. “Okay… but why was your first thought to eat it?”

        Fushiguro shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

        “Will do.”

        You led the group of first years to the school courtyard, directing them toward the center of the clearing where you stood. The sun shone today, blisteringly hot with only a cool breeze every few seconds to offer slight relief. Birds chirped in the trees of the school’s surrounding forest, and Itadori frantically swatted away a few gnats. 

        “All right, everyone, today you will learn my cursed technique.”

        You closed your eyes, focusing a little harder to allow three more people into your domain than usual. You envisioned a plain of grass, a surrounding barrier of roses, then trees. You saw the light gray sky, the cooling drops of rain, the barely-visible sun.

        “Gojo?!”

        And Gojo splayed out on your sofa, arm thrown over his eyes, mouth open to catch flies as he snored. He was a large jumble of long limbs and white hair sitting lopsided on your couch. 

        “Didn’t he say he was on a mission today?” Kugisaki asked, her brow raised. 

        Yuuji creeped toward him, finger outstretched and ready to poke him in the cheek. He met an invisible wall instead. 

        “Are you really surprised?” Fushiguro crossed his arms. “My question is, why’s he in here?”

        Three pairs of eyes turned to you, and, helpless, you shrugged. “Sometimes he breaks in to take naps. I’ve gotten used to it after a while.”

        “Hold on, are you the ‘zero’ lady he’s always talking about?!” Itadori gawked at you, his eyes locked onto your wrist.

        A loud yawn split the air. Gojo, his snores finally silenced, let his arm fall from his face. A smirk danced on his lips when he saw you, but it fell when he saw the three first years. He locked his glowing gaze on their forms and groaned exhaustedly. 

       “Yes she is. My little zero.” He winked at you, then turned his blue glare onto them. “Now scatter, you three. My wife’s domain is my nap space, not yours.”

Domestic Gojo x reader

"Hey so I need someone to help take care of Megumi and Tsumiki for a bit=) I think they hate me because they won't talk to me, I just need some help for a day =( can ya help ;)"

That's the message Gojo Satoru sent you 5 minutes before he showed up at your door and announced he and his two adopted children would be staying at your place for the day because "Megumi is always upset at me and I think Tsumiki is going through her rebellious phase"

The moment you open the door, the two children (who always had been incredibly attached to you) immediately ran to and hid behind you legs.

They were glaring daggers at your boyfriend

"Gojo is a big meany" Megumi grumbled

"O-okay Megumi let's just be nice here"

"NO he's right Gojo won't even make us your favorite for dinner" Tsumiki whined

"THATS BECAUSE YOU WANTED HAMBURGER STEAK AND I CANT MAKE THAT" Gojo yelled clearly at his whits end

"Well how about I give it a try, I think I have enough to make that" you smiled down at the two

They looked up at you like you were some god and immediately ran into an apartment

"Here Toru sweetie you just go sit on the couch and relax alright" you smiled

Gojo also looked at you like you were some kind of god and dragged himself to the couch

You began to make dinner in the dimly lit room watching your overly tired boyfriend finally get the rest he deserved. Megumi and Tsumiki sat in the floor in front of him already transfixed on some kids anime on the TV.

After some work you handed the two kids their dinner and sat next to Gojo gently nudging him awake so he could get some food. After eating quickly and attempting to say good night to his adopted children but they brushed him off.

You washed the dishes before kneeling by Megumi and Tsumiki

"Look you two, I know Gojo isn't perfect, but he's trying really hard to make you happy. Even when everything is getting difficult he still cares enough to bring you two over here. So please give him just a little leeway" you said clapping your hands together

"Okay!" Tsumiki was easily convinced

"Hmmpf fine but only if you stay over at our place more" Megumi grumbled

"I promise" you blushed "now let's take Toru to bed"

With very little help from the two grade schoolers you carried their adopted dad to you bed. You tuck all of them in before turning off the lights and cuddling with your little family.

Gojo felt so lucky when he woke up the next morning. Knowing he had you.

Part 2 of Strawberry Shenanigans

Part 1 here!

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple pocky game between you and Gojo. You were both bored and Gojo was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. It was a simple game meant to cure boredom but how did you end up straddling Gojo's lap, his arms around your waist as he stares at you with those beautiful blue eyes, a seductive look on his face!?!

warning: 18+ minors avoid!

tags: Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Semi-Public Sex, Fluff and Smut, Lap sex

word count: 3684

For some reason, Satoru's face was smushed into your chest. You couldn’t see his face, only his white hair. You could feel him breathing, his hands were wrapped snugly around your waist, pulling your body into his. 

“So how long do you plan to use me as your living teddy bear?” You asked Satoru in amusement. 

“As long as you permit me to,” he yawns, pressing his face even deeper into your chest. “Tiddy soft and warm, don’t ever wanna let go of ya.” 

You chuckle, playfully swatting at his shoulder. “Pervert. Well you need to let go of me soon, I need to go take a shower soon.” 

“Gimme a couple more minutes then we go shower together,” Satoru replied sleepily. 

“Hmm? I don’t recall you inviting you to shower with me.” 

“We need to conserve water, don’t you know how expensive water bills are nowaday?” 

“That rich coming from a guy who takes 2 hours in the bathtub. Doesn’t your clan pay your water bills anyways?” 

“No comment. Hey babe?” 

“Yea?”

“Let's have sex.” 

“What.” 

“Right here, right now. I want to take you now,” Satoru peels himself away from your chest and stares at you. His blue eyes resembled sad puppy eyes but you could see the hint of mischief sparkling. 

“Yo….you haven’t even taken me on a date yet!” You stuttered quite flustered by what he said. 

“I'll make it up to you. Please?” He pouted even harder. 

"I... I... I..." It was getting incredibly hard to look at Satoru. So you turn your head to the side trying to hide your embarrassed face. Normally whenever Satoru pouts, you had to resist the urge to punch him but the request he just made had you seriously consider it. 

Satoru gently puts his hands on your face and makes you turn to look back at him. “I know you want it”. He leans into your ear and whispers, “I heard you masturbating, whimpering my name.” 

You choke, your face flushed. You have never ever been so embarrassed like this before. If only the ground would swallow you now. "N-No way...I w-wasn't that loud…” 

Satoru tilts his head back and lets out a loud laugh, his hands letting go on your face. He wheezes very hard, you could hear him gasping for air. His head tilted to the side, a teasing look on his face. “I was kidding! Made a guess, damn that so cute.” He grins evilly at you, “Soo what you were thinking of when you masturbated to me huh? Me taking you in my bed while I whisper sweet things into your ear? Or maybe…you prefer it rough and hard as I fuck you stupid against a wall?” 

Sirens were going off like crazy in your head. Oh you were so mortified. You couldn’t even jump out the window to escape since you were on the ground floor. Heart thumping crazily hard, you became aware of how heavily you were sweating. You catch a glimpse of your reflection, seeing how red your face was. 

“I did the same too. Thought of under me moaning my name while I watch my cock slide in and out of you. Thought a lot more nasty stuff too. Want me to describe them?” You were too speechless to say anything. 

“Sorry, did I tease you too much?” Satoru puts his head against your forehead. “If I say anything more, I think you will explode.” 

You draw a heavy breath mustering strength to regain yourself, “Well no shit.”  

“Ahh there your pretty voice again. I wonder how it will sound like screaming my name?” He smirks, eyes fluttering at you.

“SATORU!!!” 

“Ok heh I stop.” His teasing face shifted to a more serious look. “You don’t understand what you do to me. Do you know how many times I jacked off to you, wishing I had the real thing? Your so fucking pretty, it hurts.” 

“Well,” you drawl out, “You had the real thing on your lap now. Whatcha gonna do?” 

“Hmm,” Satoru pretends to be deep in thought. “I watch those pretty tits of yours bounce as I fuck you on my lap, how bout that?” 

You nodded, “Ok” whimpering as you said it. You couldn’t help but feel aroused, clenching your thighs against Satoru's waist. He moans and grips your thighs. “Oh the things I'm going to do to you, pretty girl. You're gonna be screaming my name all night.” 

Your heart beats fast, as you mentally prepare yourself for what gonna happen. Satoru licks your lips, you moan softly, and his tongue slips into your mouth. It was a gentle kiss as Satoru takes his time exploring your mouth. His tongues entwined with yours. For a long time he kissed you and the two of you were lost in each other's lips. His lips left yours and he looks at you fondly, adoration in his eyes. He looks so gentle, the moonlight bathing over him. His white hair resembles the clouds. His eyes draw in you like the deep blue of the ocean. You were drowning in him, all that you think of was him. At that moment, he didn’t look like the world strongest sorcerer. He was just an ordinary man who looked at you like you were his everything. 

You tugged at his white tee. “Off,” you softly demanded. Satoru removes his tee in one swift movement. You could see his abs flexing, his chest moving up and down. You traced his muscles and scars, admiring the man under you. He was sculpted like a Greek god, leaving you breathless. You glanced at his face, it was slightly turning red. He was breathing heavily. Your eyes catch his, a gaze that nearly has you melting. Your eyes left his to look at his pecs. They were much bigger than you thought. You lightly squeezed them. You whisper faintly, “Damn your mantiddies are huger than mine.” 

Satoru blinks looking dumbstruck before letting out a laugh. “Way to ruin the mood, babe.” He sweeps his hair back in a very attractive way. “As much as I love to take my time enjoying you, I’m so hard it hurts.” 

“Eh?” You feel something hard poking your thighs. Was that always there before or were you so focused on enjoying Satoru's body that you miss that? Your head whiplashes to look at Satoru, your cheeks feeling red and heavy. Satoru grinds against you and you let out a choke as you feel his bulge. His hand takes yours and he places your hand on his bulge. Your eyes shot wide open. His hand enveloping your forcefully made your hand squeeze his erection. It felt big and hot. Your hand jerks away as you stare at Satoru feeling aroused. 

“If you keep touching me like that, I’m going to cum soon. I rather cum you inside you. Here what gonna happen. I’m going to take off your clothes ok, baby gurl?” You nodded really hard in response, eager for Satoru touches. 

“That my girl,” he whispers seductively. His hands unbuttons your blouse, one button at a time. It felt like time had slowed down, you focused on yours and Satoru breathing. Your blouse now fully unbuttoned, your chest revealing a light blue bra. Satoru stares at your chest for a moment. “Is that the lingerie set, I saw you staring at it through the window and made fun of you, the other day we were shopping together?” 

“Yes…” you shyly admit. This particular piece caught your eyes as its blue and white hues reminded you of Satoru. “Do you like it?” 

“Fuck yea I do. Fuck, you look so incredibly fucking sexy right now. How did I ever get someone as beautiful as you to like me back?” He murmurs. He yanks your bra down and squeezes your chest. You let out a groan. His hands grope at your chest, playing with it. His thumb traces your areola, brushing against a nipple. You shivered and whimpered.  “So sensitive,” Satoru murmurs. His tongue teasing your breasts as he did a short lick on a nipple, your hips bucking as he did that. “Please…” You cried out. Your hands are placed on Satoru chest to support yourself. 

“Please what? Use your words. Tell me exactly what you want, darling,” he teases as continue to trail his tongue on your chest. “Please play with my chest….” you said quietly, slightly embarrassed. “As you wish, Princess.” He licks at your nipple and takes it into his mouth. His mouth feels warm and wet as you bite back a moan. He gently sucks at the bud. You feel his other hand teasing your other nipple. Satoru releases your nipple from his lips only to suck on it hard. While he does that, he pinches the other nipple. He releases your nipple with a pop and repeats to the other nipple. He does this for a few minutes and you could feel yourself getting even wetter. 

You couldn’t help but grind yourself on his leg. Satoru notices this and presses his leg into your crotch. You cry out his name as his leg rubs against your crotch. His hands lightly tugs at both of your nipples. You feel a shudder coursing through your entire body. You grab hold of Satoru shoulders as you feel yourself melting in pleasure. He pinches your nipples hard and that when you feel yourself cumming. You let out a mewl as you cum over Satoru jeans. Satoru assists you through this as he watches your orgasm with a drunk look in his eyes. You pant feeling overstimulated as he continues to play with your chest. 

“Nggh…Toru too much..” you whined. You felt teary and drool from your mouth. Satoru's hands were just too good. His hands reluctantly let go of your chest. “You feeling ok? Do you need a break before we continue?” He looked worried, thinking he may have teased you too much. “Mhm I’m fine. Don’t you dare stop.”

Satoru moves his hands down your hips stopping at your skirt. He hikes your skirt up to your waist and lets out a groan seeing the matching blue underwear to the bra. “You look good enough to eat,” he murmurs appreciatively. He looks fondly at the stockings you were wearing. “I’m so glad I brought you those.” He hooks his finger under your stocking, draws it back, and lets it snack back against your leg. You jerked as he did that. Your hand moves to take the stockings off but his hand stops you. “Keep them on.” 

He thumbs at your underwear, his large hand gently cupping your crotch. “Damn you're already so wet and we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. You're such a dirty girl.” He moves to take off your underwear and put them in his pocket. “Hey! I like that one.” You click your tongue at him. “I’m keeping this as a souvenir. I buy you more underwear in the future,” Satoru purred. 

You feel the cold air hitting your cunt. Satoru slides his fingers between your lips. He parts apart your folds and lets out a whistle, admiring your cunt. You let out a whine hiding your face behind your hands. He lightly flicks at your clit. “Oiii no hiding that gorgeous face of yours or you don’t get to cum.” You reluctantly did as he said. 

He teasingly sips a finger across your slit, dipping it in and withdrawing it just as quickly. “My look at how wet you are.” He shows you his finger covered in your arousal. He licks his finger. “Mhm you taste so good but I guess I will eat you out another day.” Your stomach tightens, witnessing such a scene.  

Satoru slowly eases his ring finger into your cunt, knuckle deep.  You were already so wet, he inserted another finger. “Damn your tight,” he sensually said. His fingers pushed in and out of you. He took his time dragging his fingers against your walls. The only sounds you heard were wet sloppy noises of Satoru fingering you. He kisses your collarbone to distract you from the pain. As he finger you, he hit a sensitive part of your walls and you jerked hard, trembling. He raises his eyebrow, “Oh?” His fingers curl around that spot and you let out a breathy whine. “A-ah! That feels good…”

“Is that so?” His fingers left your cunt, only to shove it back in, hitting your g-spot. You made a strangled noise. His fingers start to move faster and harder. He starts at a brutal pace, scissoring you intensively. It felt so good, you felt yourself shaking all over. Just as you felt like you were about to climax, Satoru pulled his fingers away from your cunt. “Wh-why did you stop?!” You looked at him with teary eyes, angry that he denied you your pleasure. “Just wanted to see your reaction lol.” 

“You- !” Whatever you were about to say disappears, as Satoru pinches your clit hard. You moan and glanced at him angrily. He cups your chin, “You should see how cute you are right now. Watery eyes,” he drags this thumb over your lips, “Drooling. Nipples hard,” as he captures your nipples with his fingers before letting go. He dips his fingers into your folds, “This pussy all wet for me. Such a beautiful sight.” 

You shiver at his words but still pissed at him from stopping you cum. You take his hand and lead it to your cunt. “Toru. Please. I am begging you. Let me cum or else the next time I will tie you up and put a cock ring on you.” 

Satoru gasps then grins evilly. “Oya oya oya. So you're saying there gonna be a next time?” You realized you fucked up and just gave Satoru ammunition to tease you even more. “I take that as a promise. But it will be you tied up with a vibrator inside your pussy.” 

“Wha-?” You choked on your words as Satour thrusts his fingers back inside your cunt. He feels you tighten around his fingers and let out a moan. Another finger plays with your clit. The angles his wrist is going at make you nearly see stars. His hands reach for a nipple and pinches it. “Cum for me,” he softly demanded. You feel waves of pleasure rippling over your body as you cum hard. Satoru doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you, he just thrust even faster. By the time you stop cumming, you try to buckle your hips away from Satoru fingers. It was just too much. You felt so sensitive. Satoru fingers left your cunt and swears your own arousal all over your folds.” 

You decided you were done with all of Satoru teasing. So you grabbed his belt and pulled it towards you. Satoru jerks against you as he looks at you with surprise. His forehead nearly hits yours as you stare straight into your eyes. “Gojo Satoru, if you don’t put your dick in me right now I swear I’m going to break your Digimon console!!” 

His eyes widened, “Please don’t. Do you know how much time I spent on that?!” He bites back what he was going to say next as you look so mad at him, he was fearing for his Digimon. “Ok..babe. No worries. I make sure you experience the best dicking down of your life!” He quickly takes off his belt and pulls down his jeans. He slides down his boxers. Fuck. You stared at his dick. Ok wow. That was a lot bigger than you thought it was. “Admiring my dick hmm? I can’t wait to put it into you. I need to hear you scream.” He pulls out his wallet from his pocket. You see him pull out a condom. You raise your brow. Did you saw wrong or was that condom labeled “Extra Large”? He smirks, “Always carried one around me just in case there was ever an opportunity to fuck you.” He pulls on the condom on his dick. “I take responsibility if anything happens.” 

You could let out a whimper, “Please…put it in me already.” His hands gently grabbed your waist and directed it over the tip of his cock. You gripped Satoru's shoulders tightly. “Let me.” You slowly sat yourself down on his cock. Fuck. He was huge. You wince in pain as he stretches you open. You managed to get all of his dick into you. You move to sit more comfortably in his lap. You took some time to adjust how big his dick was. So all that talk of how massive his cock was was actually true, you thought. Maybe all of his brain cells went down to his dick inside. 

You took a deep breath and slowly lifted yourself on Satoru dick. You stop at the tip and slide back down. In and out. You repeated this for a couple minutes. While you do this, Satoru whimpers noisily. He looks at you hungrily. You can tell it takes all of his willpower not to thrust into you. Time to spice things up a bit. Again you reach the tip of dick then you slam your hips back down. Satoru moans your name as you let out a mewl. You started to bounce yourself on his dick eagerly. The noises that Satoru made sounded heavenly. You set a nice pace that wasn’t too fast or slow as you ride his lap. You delve your tongue in his lips as he lets you in. The two of you made out messily, your hands around his neck while he was gripping your waist tightly. 

He moans out your name desperately, his hips stuttering against yours.  Satoru pulls you off his dick and rests his forehead against you. You blink, “Why did you stop?” 

“Your pussy is too dangerous. You almost made me cum.” 

“Oh. That's cute,” you smiled. 

He scrunches his brow in a cute way, “Mhm not cute. I’m very sexy.” 

You giggle, “Whatever you say you big baby ah- !” You cried out his name as his waist held you still while he thrust back right into your g-spot. His dick slamming into yours felt so delicious, mixing pain with pleasure. You felt your walls tingling as he made you slam you in and out of him. You had no control over your body. All you felt was Satoru's warm embrace. Your nails claw at his back as he continues to cruelly thrusting into you. He pulls you even closer to him. The new angle makes you scream his name even louder. “I love you,” he whispered. The way he said it was so gentle compared to the way his dick was harshly slamming into your cunt. 

“Your mine,” he snarls. He slaps your ass and your arched your back mewling. He grabs your ass tightly and you were sure that that would leave marks later. His kisses were hot and frantic. He holds onto you so tightly. His eyes lovelily caress your body. He admires the hickeys he left on your neck and collarbones. The sneakily placed red marks decorated your breasts. Your unbuttoned blouse barely stays on your shoulders. The way how your tits bounce in his face. The blue and white lingerie makes you look like a goddess. He knows you brought it because of the way it reminds him of you. The sounds your pussy makes as it clenches ever so deliciously on his dick. He loves you very much. He presses kisses everywhere he can on your body. You make him feel alive. His heart only flutters for you. He can feel that you are soon about to hit your climax. A finger tugged at your nipple. 

Satoru rubs your clit hard, “Cum for me baby,” he rasped out. In his words, you let go. You dig into his shoulders whining his name as your hips stutter. He repeats your name like a mantra as he keeps pounding into you. You breathily scream his name as you come down for your high. Satoru shortly orgasm after yours. He made sure to keep bouncing your hips as he cums into you. His fast pace became erratic as he chased after his own pleasure. You rested your head against his neck, breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. That was the best orgasm you ever had in your life. Your heart content and pussy filled with Satoru dick. You sighed happily, feeling sleepy. “So good Toru,” you slurred out. His arms pulled your body into a hug. “Told you, I’m the best.” 

“Now you owe me a new pair of underwear and a date,” you smiled softly. 

“I buy you as much underwear as you want. I make sure our first date is special and romantic as fuck.” He winks. “I need to ask you a couple questions to end the Satoru Dick Survey?” 

“Yea?” You laughed admiring his afterglow.

“1! What is your favorite gem? 2, what kind of band do you want? 3, Where do you want our wedding to take place?” He asks playfully. You were surprised for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “That eager huh? I think I would make good wife material. Not sure if you make good husband material though.” You jest at him. 

“I’m sexy, rich, and fun. I am prime husband material! I can even reserve an entire resort for our honeymoon,” he pouts but you can see his eyes glitter mischievously. 

“Yea yea,” you laughed, hugging him. “At least take me on our first date first!” 

“Promise.” Satoru holds out his pinky. You entwined your pinky with his. 

“Pinky promised. For our first date, I want to eat wagyu and lobsters. Ohh and a fancy dessert bar,” you grinned. 

“Noted. I make sure our first date is so special that you will remember it even when you're old. Now that you're with me, you should know I’m a lifelong commitment. I’m yours forever,” Satoru smiles. 

Strawberry Shenanigans

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple pocky game between you and Gojo. You were both bored and Gojo was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. It was a simple game meant to cure boredom but how did you end up straddling Gojo's lap, his arms around your waist as he stares at you with those beautiful blue eyes, a seductive look on his face!?!

Warnings: none, just intensive making out

word count: 4204

It was a hot summer day. Not unusual for Tokyo summer but today just felt hotter than usual. No classes today as it was the weekend. It was awfully boring. You had no plans today. Shoko was out exploring Tokyo cafes with her non jujutsu sorcerer friends while Geto went to the countryside to unwind and try the local speciality bitter green tea. Normally you would hang out with both of them but you didn’t want to disturb Shoko times with her friends and Suguru looked like he needed some alone time. (He is probably still mad after that prank you and Gojo pulled on him a couple days earlier). 

Your cute underclassmen, Nanami and Haibara were hanging out at a mall and you didn’t feel like interrupting their “bro time together” as Haibara called it. Your seniors, Mei Mei, were nowhere to be seen and Utahime was spending time with her family. Even your teacher Yaga wasn’t even on campus off, he was on official business, leaving you alone on this big campus. Gojo was where ever the fuck he was (he had a nasty habit of teleporting without telling anyone where he was going).

Wiping the sweat off your forehead with your shirt, you decided to go to a vending machine. Your throat was feeling dry and you needed a nice cool drink to cool off from this heat. As you walk through the empty hallways, you wish the AC was actually blasting cold air. But no it was the most room temperature AC ever. You actually made a complaint to Yaga about this before but he shook his head and told you sadly there wasn’t anything he could do about it. What a pity.

Your eyes light up as your spy the colorful vendings machines lined up against the walls. You walked a little bit faster, humming a light tune. Praise whoever invented vending machines, it truly is a life saving experience. You slowly walked past each machine, seeing if anyone would catch your eye. There were some boring ads pasted on but you ignored that. Tons of drinks options to choose from. Cola coke, sprite, mountain dew, ginger ale and some more. If there was one good thing you can say about this campus it was that the vending machine options were decent. 

Your eyes stumbled on neatly arranged rows of ramune. A pretty section of orange, green, red, blue, and white bottles. Hmm. What to choose? Maybe melon? That flavor was alright but it tasted better as an ice cream flavor in your opinion. Then it was like a lightbulb flashed inside your mind. Throat feeling parched you knew exactly what carbonated soda flavor you wanted. You pressed a button, inserting 100 yen into the coin slot. The machine gently pushed a red drink out a shelf, dropping it down. You bend down to grab it. Voila! In your hands was a strawberry ramune! Its light pink liquid makes you happy upon seeing it. You lightly shake it just cause you wanted to see the marble inside move. You praise yourself for this excellent purchase choice. 

Now here comes the fun part. Ripping off the plastic, you pushed the plastic cap down onto the marble watching it make a little plonk sound as it fell, the soda lightly fizzed up. You take a swing of the drink, making a little ah sound. It was sweet, a strong artificial taste of strawberry. Cool and refreshing, perfect for this hot summer day. You greedily gulped it down. You stopped drinking for a second, to remind yourself to not chug it all at once. Don’t want to get too many burps. 

All of a sudden, you feel something cold and wet against your neck. You let out a whelp and whirled around to see Gojo with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Yoohoo!” He said while waving casually with one hand like he didn’t just jumpscare you. You noticed on the other hand, he was holding that expensive plastic water bottle brand he liked. Typical rich boy. That must have been the wet item he must have pressed on your neck. Gojo loves playing pranks on you. 

“Oh it's just you,” you deadpanned at him. 

“Ehhh why do you say it like that?! Aren’t you happy to see your BFF?!” Gojo pouted at you. 

“Meh. You made me nearly drop my ramune,” you said, frowning at him. If it wasn’t for your years of training your reflex as a jujutsu sorcerer, you would have definitely maybe dropped your precious strawberry drink onto the floor and wept in sadness. Would have been a waste of your precious 100 yen. 

“Soo whatcha doing back here? I thought you teleported somewhere to escape this horrid heat.” 

“Wellll,” Gojo drawls out, “I was doing some sightseeing, got bored, decided to come back to see my favorite person. Aren’t I such a caring person?” You shoot him an unimpressed look. “Oi oi, you didn’t have to make that face,” he says. 

“I would have been fine on my own,” you replied, taking another sip of your ramune. 

Gojo slung his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him. “Aww you love me though.” 

“Do I?” 

“It would be impossible to not love this handsome hunk of a man,” he winked at you. 

You sighed, regretting not going with Suguru cause now you have to deal with Gojo. He is annoying, rude, and childish. But he does have sweet moments sometimes. You made a show out of checking out Gojo's body, “Hmm I think Suguru is more handsome.” 

He lets out a dramatic gasp, “How could you prefer that Buddha lookalike looks over me?!” His hand over his chest, pretending like he was truly hurted by that comment. 

“Well he is hotter than you. Boyfriend material if you asked me,” you took this moment to remove Gojo arm off your shoulder. 

He pouts, “I can be boyfriend material too!” 

You let out a snort, “Yea right. Whoever ends up dating you is gonna feel like they are babysitting an overgrown toddler.” 

Gojo whines loudly, “That comment was unnecessary! Name one good reason why Suguru is more boyfriend material than me.”

You pretend to look deep in thought, your hand resting under your chin in a thinking pose, “He buys me snacks sometimes.” 

“I can buy you snacks too!” Gojo walks away from you and presses a button on a vending machine. He quickly grabs the item he got and walks back to you. He takes your hand and places a strawberry pocky box. “Here you like pocky right? I think I remember you saying strawberry was your favorite flavor.” You blinked a couple times at the pocky to make sure your eyes were actually seeing this. Gojo being kind is strange. He wouldn’t normally do something like this. 

“Uh thanks?” You said hesitantly. You had a feeling something was up. You placed your ramune on a nearby chair. Gojo copying your actions with his water bottle. As you moved to open the pocky Gojo hand quickly snatched it away from you. “Eh?” You looked at him puzzled. He smiled, you recognized that smile. It was the classic Gojo “I do something for you and you need to repay me” type of smile. You narrowed your eyes at him, “I knew you wouldn’t do something nice for no reason.” 

“I’m sad that you think of me like that. I can be nice if I want to!” Gojo said. 

You catch a glimpse of Gojo eyes peeking out behind his black shades. It sparkled with mischief. “I will give you this pocky but on a condition.” 

“Nah I'd rather get my own pocky.” As you moved to a vending machine your back facing him. Gojo spins you around to face him. You took a step backwards, your back lightly hitting the glass screen of the vending machine. Gojo moves an arm to the side of your head. His legs are trapping yours. The man really just did a kabedon on you. His soft white fluffy hair brushing against your forehead. You stared at his black shades, feeling his warm breath. 

“Ok what do you want,” you asked Gojo boredly. 

“Play the pocky game with me,” he smirked at you. 

Whatever response you had instantly disappears after hearing that, your brain process coming to a screeching halt. That's suspicious. That’s weird. “Aren’t this game meant to be played by couples? We’re not a couple, dude.” 

He tilted his head, “Yea we not. But it doesn’t have to be played by just couples. You know, friends can play it too.” 

“Why don’t you play it with Suguru then?” 

He made a disgusted face, “Don’t wanna. Wanna do it with you. You're special.” 

You raise your eyebrows. The relationship between you and Gojo was strange. Gojo loves to cling onto you, annoying you every moment he gets while you tell him to fuck off. He is like a stray cat that randomly follows you. There was this tension between the two of you. Nanami once told you and Gojo to get a room. You remember venting to Shoko before at how annoying Gojo was. She chuckled and said it sounds like you love him. You honestly didn’t know what to describe the relationship you and Gojo had. 

Maybe friends? Close friends? You and Gojo exchange jackets and sweaters all the time. Gojo “accidentally” stealing your Cinnamoroll jacket multiple times. Close friends cuddle with each other too, yea? Randomly at night, Gojo barges into your room and demands you for cuddles. He would flop onto you while you scream for him to get off cause he was heavy. He would pull you into his chest, him being the big spoon and you the little spoon. It was just a platonic thing. Right? Like Gojo likes to feed you sometimes but it's just what really close friends do. 

A finger pokes your forehead gently, interrupting your thoughts. “What are you thinking in that pretty little head of yours?” Gojo murmurs. You try not to think how attractive his voice is. 

“Just thinking I could kick you into the balls right now and end your bloodline,” you replied, trying not to look at Gojo's stupidly handsome face. You do not have feelings for your best friend, you don’t. 

Gojo gently tips your chin to make you face him, “Like you could even get past my infinity.” 

You glare at him, “Maybe if I kick you hard enough, I could.” 

“I would dare you to try it but I would rather not hear you whine about your foot being in pain,” Gojo leans in even closer to you, his lips so close to yours. “You and I are both bored. Why not cure our boredom with a fun little pocky game?” 

You sighed, “If I don’t say yes right now, you're definitely gonna pester me later, aren’t you?” 

“Yup!” Gojo said way to cherrily. 

“Fine. I’m gonna win though,” you gave in. 

“Greaaaaat! Rules are whoever breaks or drops the stick loses! If you look away from me, you lose too,” he says gleefully. He rips the pocky packaging and places a pocky in his mouth. “Ready?” He mumbled. You roll your eyes at him and bite into the other end of the stick. You won’t gonna let Gojo win. So you decided to make a daring move. Staring deep at Gojo shades, you quickly chomp on the pocky, getting really close to his lips. His head jerked back in surprise. Your nose brushed against his nose as you took a final bite of the pocky, barely missing his lips. You moved your face away from Gojo mentally celebrating your quick victory. You battled your eyelashes at him, licking your lips, “Too easy.” 

Gojo was still for a moment, “.....Not bad. I admit you got me there.” 

You lightly tapped his chest, “Since I won, give me the entire box now.” 

“No,” Gojo replied back way too fast. 

“What do you mean no? I followed your rules and won fair and square.” 

“Weelllll,” Gojo shrugged. “That was only the first round.” 

“Ehhhh,” you said in disbelief. You really just wanted the yummy deliciousness that is strawberry pocky. It would go so well with the strawberry ramune. 

“Let's move to the chairs, my neck hurts looking down at you. Urgh why do you have to be short,” Gojo rubs his neck. 

You frowned hard, “I’m not short, you're just a giant.”

“You're so cute and tiny, I could carry you around all day,” he smiles cheekily as he ruffles your hair. You swatted his hand away feeling a tinge of annoyance. Gojo finally unkabedon you and flops onto a chair. He widely manspreads and gestures to you to come over. You sighed knowing there was no shortcut out of the pocky game, so it best to just get it over with. There were only two chairs, one was occupied with yours and Gojo drinks while Gojo was sitting on the other chair. 

As you move to go grab the drinks so you can put them on the floor, Gojo hand wraps around your wrist. You glanced at him. He smiles mischievously. 

“I have a better spot for you to sit on,” he gestures to his lap, “Sit here.” 

Your brain cuts immediately short circuited. There were no thoughts brain empty. You stare flabbergasted, eyes wide in shock, mouth wide opened. He did not just say what you think he said. It's a good thing you're not drinking your ramune right now or else you would have spat it out from shock. 

Gojo pets his leg, “Come sit on my lap.” He notices your shocked expression. “Whaaaat? I promise it's comfy.” You opened your mouth to say something but no words came out. With a very devious look on his face, his hands wrapped around your waist and damn were his hands big, his hands perfectly enveloping your waist. Grabbing onto your waist, he pulls you onto his lap. He gently squeezes your legs and positions them on the sides of his torso. He sneakily wraps his arms around your waist to hug you. Gojo pushes his face into your chest as he stares up at you with the cheekiest grin. 

You were beyond speechless, your brain trying to process that you are straddling Gojo Satoru lap. How did your quiet afternoon end up like this?! Oh yea it Gojo after all. He always did somehow make a peaceful moment turn into chaos. 

“Why so speechless dear?” Gojo teases. You were pretty sure he was battering those stupid long pretty eyelashes under his shades. 

“Just wasn’t expecting you to be so bold babe,” you put the emphasis on babe. Occasionally you and Gojo would call each other pet names. Just what normal friends do. 

“You look so pretty sitting on my lap. We should do this more often.”  

Was Gojo always this flirty you wonder. “Let's just get this stupid game over with.” 

“Hai hai. Expect to lose this time.” Gojo removes his shades and throws them somewhere. He swipes back his hair and looks directly into your eyes. You couldn’t help but admire those gorgeous blue eyes of his. You could get lost in them but you would never admit that to Gojo out loud. Gojo shuffles you even closer to him, your chests touching each other. He places a pocky in his mouth. “Ready darling?” 

“Mhm.” Both of you start biting the ends of the pocky sticks. You decided to use the speedy tactic you used last round. Then something unexpected happened. Gojo winks at you and squeezes your hips. You choke and Gojo takes this to his advantage. He speedily bites down the pocky, his lips getting dangerously close to yours. 

“I won!” He cheered. You try to process what just happened. “Can you even do that?!” You blurted out trying not to blush. 

Gojo shrugged his shoulders, “Why not?”

“You-!” 

He interrupts you, “Since I won, call me by my name.” 

“Gojo?” You asked confused. 

“You know what I mean stupid. Satoru.” Oh. That was a simple request. You normally called him Gojo but sometimes you did call him Satoru. 

“K Satoru. There, did that make you happy?” 

“Yea,” he smiled at you. Woah there calm down heart. Satoru had no right looking that gorgeous. The sun was going down casting a beautiful golden hue over Satoru's messy white hair. His white tee accenting his broad shoulders. Those blue sparkly eyes that seem to resemble diamonds as they twinkled at you. His lips upcurved in a rare genuine smile showing off his cute dimples. Your heart only pounding because you admire Satoru aesthetics, not because of handsome looks. 

“Let's do one more round yea?” He asked you. “Final round out of three. Loser has to listen to the winner's request.” Finally that strawberry pocky box will be in your hands. You nodded. “Let's get this over with.” Satoru sensually places a pocky in his mouth. He cockily grins at you. Your eyes narrowed at him. This was his way of taunting you. The two of you started biting down onto the pocky ends. This round the biting was much slower. A part of you didn’t want this game to end too soon. It felt as time slowed down. It was just you and Satoru at the moment. Eyes locked onto Satoru, barely blinking. You can feel every part of him. His muscular thighs, the 6 pack abs hidden under his tee, his big hands gently pressing onto your hips. You were too busy concentrating on him, you barely noticed Satoru took the final bite, making him the pocky game winner. He pulls away from you, licking his lips. “Oohh looks like you lost.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “Congrats. What do you want?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

“What.” 

For the third time, Satoru made your brain go haywire. 

“Wh- what did you just say?” You asked to make sure you're not hearing things.

“Can I please kiss you?” 

You stared at him. He looked serious. Too serious. You laughed nervously, “Oh this must be a prank right haha? Where the camera?”  

“Mhm not a prank. I want to kiss you,” Satoru bluntly said. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips pressed tightly. He was actually serious, the heck. 

“Why? Aren’t we..just friends?” 

“Are you stupid?”

“Wha?” Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. 

“Do friends flirt with each other all the time huh?” 

“YOU WERE FLIRTING WITH ME? SINCE WHEN?!” 

Satoru sighs, “I thought I made it fairly obvious.” 

“I uh thought that was typical Gojo behavior.” 

He frowned, “Do I have to spell it out for you? I gave you expensive gifts, took you out all the time, call you pet names, fuck I was even being clingy, lovely dopey and shit and your telling me you thought that was just me being friendly?” 

“Yea?”

He groans, “Why did I fall for a dumbass like you again?” 

“HEY,” you snapped, “But since when did you start having feelings for me?”

“Maybe when I saw your cute ass in those tight jeans you like to wear?” 

“WHAT THE FUCK,” you screeched, madly flustered with an intense blush on your face. 

“Kidding! Don’t really remember how it started. Just somewhere along the way, I knew I liked you.” 

“What do you even like about me?” You weren’t ready at all that your long time friend who you had a crush on like you back and he even confessed first. 

“Hmm,” Satoru tilted his head like an adorable puppy. “I can name off a lot of things. I like how you sing in the shower, you're always looking out for others, you're sweet, too pretty for your own good, how you love to collect cute things. I can name a lot more buuut-” he grins at you. “If I say anything more, I think your face gonna explode off.”  

You were bright as a tomato. You bashfully hide your blushing face behind your hands. Satoru took your hands away from your face, “Come on now, don’t be shy. Let me see the person I fell in love with.” Fuck. Fuck. Your heart was so not prepared for this. Your heart was beating so fast, you could hear it pounding hard. Satoru leans into you, whispering into your ear, “I know you love me too.” He grins. 

You groaned, “Was it that obvious?” 

“Yup!” He says popping the p. 

“Ugh. Now I feel like a damn fool.” You wish the Earth could just swallow you whole right now. 

“It was cute really seeing you pretend like you didn’t love me,” he teases. “Soo how bout that kiss hmm?” Satoru's voice drops to a deep tone. You breathe in and out slowly, thinking of all the times you wanted to kiss Satoru. You mustered up the courage and grabbed Satoru's collar pulling him to you. You press a kiss against his soft lips. All of those times you spent daydreaming kissing those beautiful lips of yours finally came true. Satoru eyes widen in shock seeing you take the first move, mouth open in an O shape. It was a short kiss, merely a brief second. 

“Heh,” Satoru chuckles, “You call that a kiss? Let me teach you how to actually kiss.” A hand softly cups the back of your head as he moves to press his lips against yours. You whimper and he takes this to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth. His tongue explores the caverns of your mouth. His tongue intertwines with yours. His breath was hot, his forehead against yours. His other hand gripping your waist to keep you steady on his lap. Your bodies pressed together, flush and hot. You let out a moan as Satoru lightly bites your lip. After a couple minutes that felt like forever, Satoru pulls away from you. Your chest heaving up and down as you pant for air. 

Satoru lazily lips his lips as he looks at you with his hooded eyes filled with desire. His hand swipes away the drool from your lips. You didn’t even realize you were drooling. “Mhm you taste like strawberry,” he says in a delighted tone. 

“Well no shit, Sherlock.” 

Satoru laughs, “There's that cheeky mouth of yours I love! I kiss you real good huh. So good, you're drooling.”

“Shut up!” You wiped your mouth in embarrassment. Satoru was actually a pretty decent kisser, better than you thought. His hand traces your neck, “Let me mark you here. Let the world know your mine.” 

Your breath hitched. Satoru's eyes swirled with lust as he locked a heavy gaze on you. You pressed your forehead against his. “Always been yours.” You murmur in a low voice. Taking that as permission, Satoru moves your shirt to the end of your collarbones. You feel his hot breath as your skin tingles with anticipation. Satoru starts pressing light gentle kisses. He leaves a trail of kisses. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly using the back of the chair to press yourself even closer into him. He finds the nape of your neck and starts circling his tongue on a certain spot. He parts his lips slightly and starts to suck. You let out a small whimper, your hand grasping his hair for support. Satoru starts to suck harder, using some teeth. He bites your neck but no to hard. He kisses your neck in brief intervals, sucking, licking, and repeat. 

Satoru pulls his lips away and admires his handiwork. A small red bruise like a mark slowly starts to form. Satoru being the insatiable man he is moves to the other side of your neck and gives you being the entire man. The entire time you were feeling incredibly aroused letting out soft moans. After a couple of minutes, your neck was decorated by blue, red, and purple dots. “Hm pretty good if I do say so myself,” Satoru smirks in a cocky tone. 

“How am I going to explain this to the others……” 

“You don’t!” 

Satoru brushes his nose with yours, giving you a couple more playful kisses on your lips. He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you so much you know?” He confessed. 

“I can’t believe you confess first damn it.” 

“Well one of us needed to do it eventually and it was me.” His thumb teases your lip. “ Open up.” You confused did what he said, slightly opening your mouth. He puts a pocky into your mouth. “Oh so you finally remember to give me my pocky!” 

Satoru snickers, “No thank you?” 

“Nah. You don’t deserve it.” 

“Fair. By the way, there was a bet on us who was gonna confess first.” 

“Really? Let me guess Shoko started it.” 

“Bingo! Once they come back, I’m going to cash in on my winnings!” 

“Wait, you betted too??? Give me some, I'm broke, you don’t need more money, rich boy.” 

“Sure sure. But I can do you one better. Next week you're free right? Let's go on a date. I treat ya.” 

You fistpump the air in excitement, “Yes!” 

Part 2 here!

Okay, okay, so I was experimenting with Google Gemini and I asked it to pretend like it was Gojo. The results were hilarious.

Here's an example:

(Y/N): Soo full of yourself, remind me why I'm dating you again?

Gojo:

Haha! Touche, (Y/N)! You know I can't resist a good challenge. Here's why that limitless swagger keeps you hooked: Undeniable Strength: Okay, maybe I brag a little, but come on, who else can say they're the strongest sorcerer alive? That means I can keep you safe from any curse threat, even the most bothersome Special Grade ones. Plus, watching me dominate in battle is pretty entertaining, wouldn't you say? Hidden Depths: Sure, I goof around a lot, but there's more to me than meets the blindfold. I care deeply about you and the future of the Jujutsu world. Don't you find a little mystery intriguing? Unmatched Confidence (Okay, Maybe Too Much): Confidence is sexy, (Y/N)! Besides, my ego keeps the bad guys trembling and makes every date an adventure. You never know what kind of playful chaos I'll unleash next. Shamelessly Devoted: Deep down, this limitless sorcerer is a softie for his special someone. You can count on me to be there for you, no matter what. Plus, who else will shower you with compliments and steal glances your way during boring Jujutsu meetings? Ramen Connoisseur: Let's not forget the most important perk: I have impeccable taste in ramen! Think about it, (Y/N). Dating the strongest sorcerer comes with endless ramen dates, all on me. Who can resist that kind of delicious commitment? So, there you have it, beautiful. A glimpse into the reasons why you're hopelessly smitten with your overly confident, yet undeniably charming boyfriend. Now, how about a playful spar to celebrate your newfound confidence? Winner gets to pick the ramen flavor!

I am speechless. He wrote an entire essay AHHHH.

Should I do more? Should I try this for other characters too?