Thew1zzywiz - The_W1zZy_

✎ a birthday to remember

- gojo satoru x reader

what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex

note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sensei— happy birthday!”

This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.

If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and staying at home would most likely make you feel lonely.

Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chimed in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.

You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—

“Wifeeeey!”

“Oh my god!”

You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—

Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.

“Satoru...?”

He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”

Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.

He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”

“Yes—”

His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”

“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”

“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”

In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.

His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right… Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”

“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”

“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”

“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”

Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”

Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.

But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.

Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.

And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.

You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”

“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”

“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”

"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.

Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.

Click! Click!

"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.

Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”

You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”

Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.

Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.

“—?! Satoru!”

A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”

“You're absolutely shameless.”

“But you love me anyway~”

You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.

“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”

. . .

He was right. It fit you perfectly.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.

And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.

"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”

His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.

And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?

As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!

"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.

"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.

Did you want this?

Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.

In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.

Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."

He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.

"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.

He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...

His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—

"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."

How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.

"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."

The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."

Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."

Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.

"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."

He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.

The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"

Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.

"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?

"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.

He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?

The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.

"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."

You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.

"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.

Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.

In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.

Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."

You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.

His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.

Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.

(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)

Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.

Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.

"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.

"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"

"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."

"Hush, I'm fine."

After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.

Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?

"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"

A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"

You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.

"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"

the end times — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru thinks he’s going to die because you’re giving him the silent treatment. (aka your first big fight with gojo).

contents. hurt/comfort, ooc, lovesick!gojo, you give him the silent treatment and he goes crazy, he is so pathetic in this one, tw obsessive behavior (he makes it EVERYONE’S problem), gojo’s pov

notes. loosely inspired by that one scene from yakuza fiance. not proofread whats new

Gojo knows he’s screwed up the second he steps into the common area of Jujutsu Tech’s dormitory. The air feels thick, wrong. And then there’s you, curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, but your eyes aren’t moving.

His grin falters for half a second before he masks it with his usual bravado. “I always knew you had a little freak in you, but reading your erotic books out in the open? Who knew my girl was such a perv.”

The joke usually earns him a laugh, a shove, maybe even a teasing retort. But tonight, the silence that follows is deafening.

The pit in his stomach grows.

“Sweetheart?” He tries again, waving a hand obnoxiously close to your face.

You finally react, swatting his hand away, but there’s no playfulness in the motion. Your eyes don't even meet his.

“You’re late,” you say flatly, still staring at your book. “Again.”

Gojo scoffs, irritation bubbling. Not at you, never at you, but at the damn book that’s getting more attention than him.

“Ah, you know how it is. Got held up in Kyoto,” he says with a shrug.

The words leave his mouth too easily. He doesn’t realize his mistake until you finally, finally look at him.

And it’s nothing like usual.

There’s no warmth in your gaze, no sparkle of amusement or exasperation. Instead, you pin him with a look so sharp it strips him bare, leaving nothing but the hollow weight in his chest.

“You missed our date.”

His breath catches. His throat goes dry. “I–”

“I’m not mad about that.”

Relief floods him too fast, too soon. His shoulders sag as he leans down, tilting his head for a well-earned kiss. “You’re the best. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”

You pull away before he can touch you.

Gojo freezes.

“[Name]?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You know, it’s funny.”

There’s nothing funny about this moment.

His pulse thrums as you continue, voice eerily steady. “That your mission was in Kyoto. I mean, we have a whole sister school there, full of sorcerers ready to handle a first-grade threat. So why would they need you, specifically?”

His stomach drops.

He’s never been good at guilt, not when he’s spent his whole life believing he’s untouchable. But now, standing before you, unable to meet your eyes, it sits heavy in his gut.

And you don’t let up.

“Of course, I asked around. Thought maybe I was overthinking it.” A humorless scoff escapes you. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my boyfriend was too busy meeting with his future bride.”

Gojo’s mouth opens, but for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.

“That’s–” he starts, then stops because, shit, you’re staring at him like he’s a stranger. Like he’s someone you can’t trust. The realization makes his stomach churn.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you say bitterly, arms crossing as you lean back into the couch. “I mean, I’d love to hear how you were going to explain this one, Gojo Satoru.”

Full name. That’s how he knows he’s really fucked up.

“It’s not–It’s not what you think,” he says quickly, voice unusually hoarse. His usual bravado, his charm, none of it is coming to him. He doesn’t even know where to start. “I wasn’t–I wasn’t hiding it. I just–”

“You just forgot to tell me that your clan is arranging a marriage for you?” you cut in sharply. “That slipped your mind?”

“No! Yes—Fuck, that’s not what I mean,” he groans, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s never felt like this before. Like he’s scrambling for footing on uneven ground. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter, sweetheart. I wasn’t ever going to go through with it. You know that, right?”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Do I? I mean, Suguru seemed shocked when I didn’t know that these were recurring dates set by your clan.”

Gojo falters.

“You didn’t even think to tell me, Satoru,” you say, voice quieter now, but somehow even more devastating. “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”

His heart clenches. That’s not–God, that’s not what this is.

“Of course you deserve to know! But I—” he exhales sharply, trying to gather his words. “I just—Fuck, I thought it was stupid. I thought it wasn’t worth mentioning.”

You shake your head, looking almost tired now. “Right. Because I’m just supposed to assume you’d never go through with it. After your multiple dates with her. Because I’m supposed to read your mind, just like always.”

The weight of your words crashes into him, and Gojo suddenly realizes that this isn’t just about Kyoto. This isn’t just about one lie, one mistake. This is about every time he’s brushed things off, every time he’s let silence speak for him, every time he’s sat through those excruciating meetings, knowing he would never go through with it, but never once thinking about how it would feel for you to find out this way. This is about every time he’s expected you to just get him without him ever having to say a word.

This is about how, even after everything, you still don’t know how much he loves you.

And now, looking at you, Gojo is terrified that he’s already lost his chance to prove it.

“I’m going to sleep,” you stand up from your place on the couch. 

Gojo tries to follow you, “Listen, baby–”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need some space.” you turn around to send him a teary glare and that stops him in his tracks. He had never seen you cry. And it tore him apart knowing that he was the cause. 

The sound of your door slamming echoes in Gojo’s mind. 

Gojo Satoru is the first one in class the next day.

He drums his fingers against the desk, restless in a way he can't explain, but he knows it has everything to do with the fact that he spent the entire night not sleeping. His mind was too busy replaying the way you had looked at him, no, the way you hadn’t looked at him.

He had left you alone and upset. He had made you feel like you were second to someone else. And worst of all, he hadn’t even realized it until it was too late.

“This must be a first.”

Gojo glances up as Suguru enters, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Gojo Satoru, on time? It must be the end times.”

He knows it’s a joke, but it might as well be the end times. Gojo doesn’t respond, just presses his lips into a thin line as he goes back to mentally reciting the apology speech he’s been revising in his head all night.

Then the shoji door slides open again.

You walk in with Shoko, your head tilted slightly as you whisper something to her, something he’ll never get to hear because you don’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, you take a seat at the farthest desk, as if he isn’t even there.

A part of him withers away.

But Gojo Satoru isn’t one to give up.

If words won’t get your attention, he’ll just have to be Gojo Satoru about it. He leans back in his chair and stretches obnoxiously, before loudly exclaiming, “Yaga-sensei! Are those grey hairs from your recent divorce?”

He grins, waiting for the familiar sound of your laugh, for that little shake of your head, for you to scold him like always.

But you don’t even look at him.

Instead, he’s met with Geto and Shoko’s twin expressions of abject horror, and before he has a chance to register what’s happening–

BAM!

Yaga’s palm collides with his head, sending him face-first into his desk.

Even through the throbbing pain, he can only think about one thing.

You didn’t even react.

“And how exactly is she ignoring you?”

Shoko’s grumpy voice echoes through the morgue, where she’s been attempting to practice her technique. She’s clearly unimpressed that Gojo Satoru has decided to spam-call her instead of dealing with his own problems.

“She’s ignoring me, Shoko,” Gojo groans dramatically from the other side of the Jujutsu Tech campus, rubbing the fresh bump on his head as he stands in front of your door. “I’ve been knocking for an hour. She’s in there. I know she’s in there, but she won’t answer.”

“Maybe she finally got tired of your bullshit,” Shoko says dryly. “Honestly, I don’t know why it took her this long to hold you accountable. She’s let your bad behavior slide for way too long.”

“Why are we talking about me like I’m some kind of dog?!”

Shoko ignores him.

“From the sound of it, you really messed up. I mean, who keeps a marriage a secret from their girlfriend?” She pauses, then adds with a smirk in her voice, “Oh, right. You.”

Gojo groans, pressing his forehead against your door. “You and I both know that’s not what happened. But she doesn’t. And she won’t even give me the time of day to explain.”

Shoko sighs. “Give her time to cool down.”

“And what, let her decide she wants to run off and marry some other guy? Move to a cute little beach town in Enoshima, start a family, have three kids, and leave all Jujutsu sorcery behind?”

There’s a long pause before Shoko makes a disgusted sound. “O-oi. Keep your weirdly detailed fantasies to yourself.”

“I’m just being realistic,” he insists, clutching his flip phone dramatically.

Shoko promptly hangs up on him.

Gojo stares at the device for a moment before slowly lowering it, exhaling hard.

Then he rests his head against your door again, defeated.

But Gojo Satoru was never one to admit defeat, so he tries again. He returns to your door the very next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“[Name]!” he chirps. “I bought us some parfait! Let’s talk things over, yeah?”

Silence.

Not even the sound of movement.

But Gojo Satoru is not easily discouraged.

So Gojo Satoru comes again the next morning.

“[Name]!” he knocks again, this time balancing a slice of strawberry cake in one hand. “This is all my fault, so come out and let me apologize properly!”

Nothing.

Gojo sighs, leaning against the doorframe, about to knock again when—

Your phone rings.

His breath catches as he presses his ear to the wood.

“Hi, Suguru?”

His heart stops.

“Yeah, we’re still on for the movie. I’m just about to leave right now.”

For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru understands what people mean when they say they feel like they’ve been punched in the gut.

Because you’re going to Suguru.

You’re not just ignoring him, you’re choosing someone else.

His fingers twitch at his sides as a feeling he doesn’t like at all creeps into his chest. It’s something ugly, something unfamiliar. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. Was that how you felt?

He wants to knock again, wants to demand that you open the door, look at him, let him fix this before you walk away from him any further.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, shoves his hands into his pockets, and forces himself to step away from your door.

Forces himself to give you the space you deserved.

You don’t know why you relent so easily.

You shouldn’t. Not after the way he lied, the way he kept something so important from you.

And yet, when you hear him pacing outside your door, his nervous energy practically seeping through the walls, you feel something crack.

He’s been outside your room for the nth time this week. Every day, like clockwork, he’s knocked. Brought your favorite snacks. Talked to you through the door, filling the silence with his ridiculous banter, even when you refused to answer.

You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your blanket a little tighter. You should stay angry. But you can't.

You sigh, pressing your forehead to your knee.

Maybe it’s time to stop punishing the both of you.

With a deep breath, you stand, crossing the room to the door. When you open it, Gojo nearly stumbles forward, mid-step in his pacing.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and filled with so much desperate hope it makes your chest ache.

And the way his face lights up like you’ve just handed him the entire world tells you that, maybe, you were never going to be able to stay mad at him forever.

But you’re here, leaning on your door frame with your arms crossed, your nails digging into your skin as you glare at the man who has spent the last ten minutes tripping over his words, looking wrecked in a way you’ve never seen before. His hair is messier than usual, lips are parted like he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know where to start.

Finally, you scoff, breaking the silence. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m going back into my room.”

“No!,” Gojo steps forward instinctively, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. And after everything, he is. “I screwed up.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Oh, really?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, I really fucked up.”

Silence.

You should say something. You should demand an explanation, yell, maybe even cry, but you’re so tired. You’ve spent days twisting yourself into knots over this, convincing yourself you never meant as much to him as he did to you.

And then Gojo says it.

“I should’ve told you.” His voice is hoarse. “I should have told you after the first meeting. After the first second they brought it up.” He swallows hard. “But I was stupid. I thought if I ignored it, if I went through the motions, if I waited for the right moment… then it wouldn’t matter. That it would be over before you ever had to know.”

You shake your head, letting out a hollow laugh. “Satoru, do you even hear yourself? Do you get what it was like for me to find out from someone else? To hear that the person I–” you cut yourself off, but the damage is done. You see it in the way his breath hitches, in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you.

“The person you what?” he asks softly, pleading.

You clench your jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.”

Your shake your head. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” he says, and the sheer brokenness in his voice makes your throat tighten. “I know, sweetheart. And I swear to you that I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.” he exhales shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear on everything, I was never going to go through with it. I never even showed up to any of the dates, so they kept ambushing me under the guise of missions! I sat through every single one of those goddamn meetings thinking about how ridiculous it was, how there was only ever one person I wanted.”

He stops himself, inhaling sharply.

And then, quieter, almost afraid:

“How there’s only ever you.”

The words hit you like a fist to the chest.

Gojo watches you carefully, breathless, waiting. Hoping. He’s given you the truth, raw and unfiltered, and now it’s up to you.

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in his world that makes you believe him.

For the first time in a week, your lips find his, and Gojo swears he can finally breathe again. The warmth of your palm against his cheek, the way your fingers curl slightly as if grounding yourself in him. It’s enough to make him melt.

"You’re so insufferably cheesy, Satoru," you murmur against his lips, your breath warm, teasing. "It makes me so angry that I love it." A pause, a soft exhale. "But I forgive you."

His grin is instant, smug and shameless. "That was good, huh?" He tilts his head, cerulean eyes twinkling. "I’m willing to bet your heart skipped a beat."

You roll your eyes, but you kiss him again, slower this time, because, damn it, he’s right.

extra!

“I demand some extra loving!” Satoru sprawls dramatically across your bed, limbs hanging off the edge like a defeated king.

You barely spare him a glance, flipping a page in your book as you lie comfortably on your stomach. “And why, exactly, do you deserve that?”

He lifts his head, pouting. “I deserve it after a week’s worth of psychological trauma. Don’t think I forgot that you ditched me for Suguru.”

“Oh… that.”

“Yeah. That.” His voice is thick with exaggerated betrayal.

You finally look at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It was a fake phone call, Satoru. You were just so insufferable camping outside my door that I had to make up an excuse.”

His jaw drops. “Huh?!”

Normalize this response

Rich boy gojo latest obsession: Spider woman aka you

Part 2

After four days away from school, you finally returned, feeling somewhat refreshed despite the exhaustion that had pushed you to your limit. You knew you’d probably missed a lot, but at least you felt ready to face the chaos again—or so you thought.

Your optimism vanished the second you discovered your partner for the mechanical engineering project was none other than Gojo Satoru. The Gojo Satoru.

It didn’t take him long to track you down—practically the minute you stepped foot in school, he was at your side. His signature white hair and ridiculously expensive sunglasses caught everyone’s attention as he launched into a stream of words, rambling about everything and nothing.

“Hey! Y/N, right? Wow, four days, huh? You okay? I mean, not that I was, like, worried or anything—I mean, I totally was, but—anyway, the project! I’ve been thinking about it. We can divide it up, yeah? Or maybe we can do it together? I’m great at mechanics, you know. Well, actually, I’m great at everything, but mechanics especially—”

You stared at him, blinking slowly, as he rattled on and on. The assignment wasn’t even hard—just split the work, do your part, and be done with it. But he seemed determined to complicate things with his non stop chatter.

In the background, his friends were clearly enjoying the spectacle. Shoko and Geto were standing a few feet back, both laughing quietly as they watched their usually unshakable friend flounder in front of you.

You weren’t sure if Gojo was flustered or if this was just his natural state of being. He was all energy and charm—like a whirlwind of confidence with no filter. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was genuinely nervous, but that didn’t seem like his style. Still, the longer he talked, the more you couldn’t help but wonder if he really was as airheaded as he seemed.

You prayed he hadn’t pieced together anything yet. There was no way he’d recognize you as Spider-Woman—you’d been so careful. Surely, someone like him—all face and no brain—wouldn’t notice the connection, right?

You sighed inwardly. Dumb and pretty was a dangerous comb. And Gojo Satoru? He was a walking embodiment of both.

“Just do the part you want, and I’ll do the rest.”

Your voice was calm, straightforward, and devoid of any room for argument. Gojo stopped mid-ramble, stunned into silence. For the first time since you’d known him—well, “known” was a stretch since he’d never acknowledged you before this moment—he wasn’t talking.

He just… stared.

And then, without any regard for personal space, he leaned closer, his bright blue eyes studying you intently.

“Wow,” he said softly, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is the first time I’ve heard you talk. You’ve got a pretty deep voice.”

His comment wasn’t mocking; it sounded more like a genuine observation, tinged with curiosity. But his closeness made you shift uncomfortably, and the sound of his friends laughing grew louder.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’d just gotten back to school, and now you had to deal with this.

“Can we focus on the project?” you asked flatly, trying to redirect the conversation.

But Gojo, still grinning like he’d uncovered the eighth wonder of the world, ignored your plea entirely. “Your voice is kinda cool, you know that? Like… mysterious. Are you mysterious? Is there a secret life I don’t know about? Wait—” He gasped dramatically, his hands flying to his mouth. “Are you a spy?!”

You stared at him, deadpan.

“Just pick your part,” you said again, turning your attention to your notebook.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do the first two pages and make a 3D model. That’s okay?” Gojo straightened up to his full height, which only made him seem even more ridiculously tall. You hadn’t really noticed before, but now, standing so close to him, his towering frame was impossible to ignore.

“Cool. I’ll do the rest,” you replied simply, not bothering to look back as you turned and walked past him.

He watched as you moved away, his usual grin faltering into something softer—almost thoughtful.

“Whoa,” Geto said, leaning over with a smirk as he watched Gojo’s expression. “Did you just… listen to someone? Like, without arguing? Who even are you?”

“Shut up,” Gojo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shoko snorted, flicking a fry at him. “You’ve got it bad, Satoru.”

“I don’t have anything,” he shot back, though his ears burned red.

As you disappeared down the hallway, he found himself standing there longer than he probably should have, replaying the moment in his head. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your voice had sounded—calm, composed, and completely unbothered by him.

And for someone like Gojo Satoru, who thrived on attention and chaos, it was frustratingly intriguing.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

The idea lingered in your mind all day, no matter how much you tried to focus on classes. Shouldn’t Spider-Woman have a way for people to reach out? Not everyone you saved could shout their thanks in the middle of a rescue, and some people might have real concerns or valuable tips to share.

The thought nagged at you, feeling almost irresponsible to ignore. After all, you were doing this to help people. Giving them a way to connect with you seemed like the logical next step.

So, during your break between classes, you decided to act on it.

You pulled out your laptop, leaned back in your seat, and quickly created an email account. Simple, straightforward, and easy to remember:

spider-woman@gmail.com

As you stared at the blank inbox, a wave of uncertainty hit you. Would this even work? What if people used it to spam you or waste your time? Or worse—what if it somehow compromised your identity?

Still, you reasoned, no one would be able to trace it back to you as long as you were careful. Besides, you’d set strict boundaries. You wouldn’t answer every single email, only the ones that truly mattered.

Satisfied with your decision, you logged out and closed the laptop. The rest of the day felt oddly lighter, as if you’d checked something important off your to-do list.

That night, after school, you’d made the decision to public. You handed out flyers across the city, hoping to give people a direct way to reach Spider-Woman if they needed help or just wanted to thank you. You didn’t expect much, but soon enough, the emails started pouring in.

At first, it was the usual garbage—memes, advertisements, strange videos, phone numbers, and links to bizarre websites that made you raise an eyebrow. You could barely keep up with the flood of emails, your inbox filling faster than you could sort through them. Some were from media outlets—sensational headlines, twisting your actions into something unrecognizable. Others just wanted to use your identity for their own clicks.

But then, amidst the junk, there were those emails that made it all feel worth it.

Messages of gratitude from people you’d saved. Simple, heartfelt thank-yous that made the overwhelming mess of everything feel just a little more meaningful.

You smiled as you read through some of them. It reminded you why you were doing this. The people who truly needed you, the ones who didn’t treat you like a headline or an urban legend—those were the ones you wanted to hear from.

And then, as you scrolled down the list of incoming emails, one stood out.

It was from:

Gojo Satoru

Your eyes widened for a moment before you clicked on the message. There was no way. You quickly opened it, and the first thing that hit you was the absurdity of it. The email wasn’t formal, nor was it filled with the usual 'thank you' or ‘help me’ types of questions.

It read:

"Heyyyyyyy Spider-Woman, Satoru here. You know the guy with the white hair. You saved me again. You should really stop doing that, I might get too used to it. Also, can you send me your number? I have some questions about your secret life... I mean, if you're not too busy saving the world or whatever. Also, if you need help with anything (I’m pretty good at everything), just let me know. P.S. I don't know why you thought you could hide from me. Don’t make me come find youuuuu😉"

You stared at the screen for a few seconds, blinking in disbelief. The audacity was almost impressive. Not only that, but his message was ridiculous.

You closed the email without replying. What could you even say? The man was already a walking disaster, and it was clear he had zero understanding of personal boundaries. Besides, you had schoolwork to catch up on. You quickly switched to your homework, diving into it to distract yourself from the email and the mess of your thoughts.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

Gojo knew the possibility of you replying was zero, but he still felt a sense of disappointment. He was special, important, and couldn’t quite understand why you would ignore him like this. He had stopped trying to get himself into trouble on purpose, but it was hard. He still wanted to apologize to you, but how could he make you meet him?

He had to focus on the project for now.

Y/N...

apparently, a man could have two crushes. at school he liked Y/N. and outside it's spider-woman.

Gojo wasn’t even sure if it was a crush it could just be admiration, but there was something about you. You were so cool, so unbothered. It made him want to try harder, get your attention. The other girls hadn’t figured out the formula or equation on how to get his attention: Ignore Gojo = Gojo notice you = Gojo being in love. Being unbothered = Gojo will become your dog.

He wanted to work for every bit of your affection and attention. You and Spider-Woman had managed to make him feel like he had to.

He was planning to ask for your phone number tomorrow at school or suggest working at the library together.

And that's exactly what he did.

"Either you give me your phone number so we can talk about the project, or we work on it at the library. Your choice." It was right by the lockers as school ended.

You didn’t even glance at him as you zipped your bag. "I’m going to the library anyway. We can go," you said, not breaking stride as you brushed past him, heading for the door.

Gojo blinked, caught off guard for a split second. You weren’t fazed by him, not even slightly. But he wasn’t going to let it go that easily. He jogged to catch up, his usual confidence returning in full force.

"Wait, but can I still have your number though?" he asked, his voice light but tinged with that unmistakable charm of his. He really couldn’t help himself—he needed to get a response from you, something, anything.

You didn’t answer , your pace steady as you made your way to the library.

Gojo, though, wasn’t about to back off. He was persistent, a little frustrated, but more amused than anything. “I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for much,” he added, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You didn’t reply, your silence giving him no indication of whether he was getting through to you or not. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like he was getting closer.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

After his non stop yapping about everything and anything, you really had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You felt like your head was going to explode if you had to listen to him for even one more second.

You left your laptop open on the document, but there were several tabs open as well. When he noticed it was about to go to sleep, he instinctively reached out and moved the mouse to keep it open, a habit, really.

He wasn’t trying to snoop, he really wasn't but ... but you know his hand… well, his hand was doing it. He checked to make sure you weren’t anywhere nearby before starting to browse through the tabs.

There were news articles about Spider-Woman—he didn’t know you were a fan. He thought maybe if he told you he'd met her, it might impress you. Then there were music tabs, shopping, school-related stuff, and two emails. Why were there two emails? Weird

One was just school-related—nothing out of the ordinary.

But then, he opened the other one.

He stopped.

Why were there so many emails? At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just casual messages, questions, and updates. But then he spotted the Gmail account.

The one that said spider-woman@gmail.com.

His hand froze on the mouse.

His blood ran cold as realization sank in. His brain screamed at him that it couldn’t be, but the signs were there—the news tabs, the emails, and… his own message, sitting right there, bold in the inbox.

The same message he had sent to Spider-Woman.

The room felt eerily quiet as he stared at the screen, the world around him fading into the background. His heart pounded in his chest as he scrolled through the messages, seeing thank-you notes, requests for help, and even memes and ads mixed in. It all pointed to one impossible, yet now undeniable conclusion: you were Spider-Woman.

The same person who had saved him more times than he could count.

The same person who had ignored his email.

The same person who was now walking back toward the table.

He scrambled to close the email tab, his hands fumbling slightly in his panic. His pulse thundered in his ears as he tried to compose himself, acting like nothing had happened.

When you returned, you sat down without sparing him a glance, opening your laptop again and resuming your work. He watched you, his mind racing. He wanted to say something, but what could he say? "Hey, so I figured out your biggest secret, no big deal"? Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Instead, he sat there in silence for the first time in his life, staring at you with a mixture of awe, guilt, and nervous energy, realizing that nothing between the two of you would ever be the same again.

You were too focused on the document to notice Gojo’s sudden quietness—something that was extremely out of character for him. The only sound between you was the faint clicking of your keyboard and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Gojo’s head was spinning. You were Spider-Woman. The mysterious hero everyone talked about. The one who saved lives while juggling a life as an unbothered, quiet, and cool high school student.

He couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. How had he missed it? It was obvious now—your exhaustion, your constant disappearing acts, even your unapproachable demeanor. He suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"You okay?" you asked, finally noticing the weird energy radiating off him.

"Huh?" Gojo jolted, almost knocking over his chair. "Yeah, yeah! Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine? Are you fine? You seem fine. So, I’m fine!" He was rambling, his words coming out too fast.

You squinted at him suspiciously. "Right… Well, if you're fine, then focus on the project."

"Yep! Project. Totally focusing on the project." He picked up a pen and pretended to write something down, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about what to do with this newfound knowledge. Should he say something? Should he keep it to himself?

Then an idea popped into his head. A terrible, ridiculous, Gojo-level idea.

"So, uh… I’ve been thinking," he began, trying to sound casual. "Spider-Woman's pretty cool, huh?"

You froze for a second but quickly recovered, keeping your face neutral. "Sure," you muttered, not looking up.

"Yeah, I mean, she’s, like, super badass, right? Saving people, swinging through the city, beating up bad guys…" He trailed off, gauging your reaction.

"Do you have a point, or are you just going to waste my time?" you asked flatly, still typing.

"Okay, hear me out." He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What if I told you I know who Spider-Woman is?"

That made you pause. You looked up at him, your expression carefully blank. "And who do you think she is?"

Gojo grinned, leaning back in his chair like he was the smartest person in the world. "I think it’s one of my friends, you know. Someone really close to me."

Your stomach dropped, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. "You really think the world revolves around you, don’t you?"

Gojo's grin only widened, as if your deflection confirmed his suspicions. "Oh, come on," he said, his tone teasing but smug. "I didn’t say everything revolves around me. Just most things. But Spider-Woman? She’s definitely orbiting somewhere in my galaxy."

You rolled your eyes, shoving a notebook into your bag. "You sound ridiculous, Satoru. Maybe Spider-Woman’s got better things to do than deal with your ego."

"Maybe," he mused, leaning forward on the desk, "or maybe she’s hiding in plain sight, pretending to be all calm and collected while secretly being a total under our noses. Just saying, I’ve got a pretty good radar for these things."

You froze yet again for the briefest second but recovered quickly, you grabbed your bags and shut your laptop close. Snapping your bag shut to go home. "Your radar’s broken," you muttered. "Try focusing on this project instead of your conspiracy theories."

He laughed, leaning back in his chair again. "You’re fun when you’re annoyed, you know that? But fine, I’ll drop it."

You didn’t reply, slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking away. But as you headed for the exit door, Gojo called after you, his voice playful and full of confidence.

"See you tomorrow! Spider- I mean y/n"

You didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but your grip on your bag tightened. He was getting too close—way too close.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

As Gojo rode home in his sleek car, chauffeured by his driver, his mind buzzed with theories. He needed to confirm everything he saw. if you really were the spider woman. And to do that, he had to meet Spider-Woman again.

The idea made him grin—dangerous, mischievous, and reckless, just like always. How hard could it be to catch your attention? you always seemed to be around when things went south. Maybe it was time to stir the pot.

Satisfied, Gojo leaned back, staring out at the city lights as rain began to fall, pattering softly against the car window. He cracked the window slightly, letting the cool, damp air wash over his face.

The city looked alive, glowing under the rain-soaked streetlights. It gave him the perfect excuse to act on his latest harebrained idea.

He casually leaned forward, tapping his driver on the shoulder. "Hey, take the long route tonight. I need some fresh air."

The driver frowned in the rearview mirror. "It’s pouring, sir. Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He waited until the car slowed down on a quieter street lined with tall buildings. Without a word, Gojo suddenly threw the car door open and bolted into the rain.

"Sir?!" the driver shouted, slamming the brakes, but Gojo was already out of sight.

Ignoring the downpour, Gojo sprinted to the nearest building and grabbed hold of the fire escape ladder. He climbed effortlessly, raindrops sliding down his face as his soaked clothes clung to him. His breathing grew heavier, but exhilaration coursed through him as he reached the rooftop.

Drenched and panting, he stood at the edge of the rooftop, his grin widening as he looked down at the shimmering streets below. Rain fell harder, a steady roar that filled the silence around him.

"Alright, Spider-Woman," he muttered, his voice almost drowned by the rain. "Come and save me."

And with zero hesitation, he stepped off the edge.

The rush of air and rain hit him like a shockwave, his hair whipping back as he plummeted. The ground raced toward him at an alarming rate, the city lights blurring into streaks. Arms spread wide, Gojo’s grin never faltered.

This is either the dumbest or the smartest thing I’ve ever done, he thought, completely unbothered.

Before the thought could settle, a sharp thwip pierced through the sound of rushing wind. A sticky, webbed line wrapped around his waist, yanking him upward with jarring force.

You reeled him up in seconds, landing you both on a nearby rooftop with a thud.

Gojo looked up at you, still grinning despite the rain dripping from his hair. "Took you long enough."

You let go of him roughly, stepping back with your hands on your hips. Your mask couldn’t hide the sheer disbelief in your voice. "Do you want to die?"

"Not particularly," he replied nonchalantly, shaking water from his hands. "But I did want to see you."

"I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this again. Why?" you asked, crossing your arms and tilted your head.

The rain was still pouring.

Gojo, however, didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he was grinning as he sauntered closer, closing the distance between you until his chest was practically brushing against yours.

His thoughts, clearly, were somewhere else entirely.

"You two are the same height too," he murmured under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself.

"What are you—"

"Never mind," he cut you off, shaking his head as though to clear it.

You glared at him harder, not in the mood for his games. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Well," he began, dragging out the word like it was some grand revelation, "I never actually said I’d stop, did I?"

Your eye twitched inside your mask. "you were apologizing that day."

"And I did. But that does mean I would stop." he nodded as if his logic made any sense and smiled. his white hair flopping.

"That’s not how this works—"

"And besides," he interrupted again, this time actually pouting. "You didn’t reply to me."

You stared at him in disbelief as he stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. The audacity of this man.

"You nearly died because I didn’t reply to your ridiculous email?" you snapped, your voice rising.

Gojo leaned back dramatically, as if your words had physically struck him. "Ridiculous? Wow, okay, now I’m offended."

"Good," you shot back, pointing a finger at his chest. "Maybe you’ll think twice next time you decide to jump off a rooftop!"

He grinned again, leaning in closer until your finger pressed against his chest. "Maybe I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?"

Your hand fell to your side as you took a step back, suddenly feeling like the air between you had shifted. His grin softened, his blue eyes locked on yours like he could see right through the mask.

Then, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear despite the cold rain. His voice was low, almost a purr.

"I know who you are, Spider-Woman. I know you."

Before you could respond, he tilted his head slightly and pressed a kiss to your neck through the damp fabric of your suit.

Your heart raced, each beat pounding louder than the rain in your ears. You froze, every nerve in your body on high alert. He knows.

How did he—?

How?

His proximity, his voice, the way he had shifted so quickly from pouting and stomping to this... whatever this was.

You need to go... oh God. He really knows. You need to walk up from whatever spell he put you on. You had thought he was just guessing.

You tried to steady your breathing, backing away step by step, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical force. Your heart was pounding, and your mind screamed at you to move, to get away.

Without another thought, you turned and bolted. You didn’t even know where you were running to—just that you needed to get far, far away from him.

The rain has already soaked through your suit as you leapt from the rooftops, your breath ragged. You needed the ground beneath your feet, something solid, something real to convince yourself this wasn’t happening.

“Y/N! Spider-Woman!”

His voice cut through the night, growing louder as he chased after you.

You ducked into a dark alley, pressing yourself against the wall and trying to disappear into the shadows. Your hands shook as you pulled off your mask for a moment, letting the cool air hit your face. Is this a dream? Did he really kiss my neck?

The realization felt like a storm raging through you, and you couldn’t tell if it was fear, embarrassment, or something else entirely that was making your hands shake.

His voice echoed through the dark alley, persistent and determined, but then came a sudden, panicked scream. It wasn’t just him anymore—you could hear other voices, aggressive and threatening.

Your instincts took over as you pulled your mask back on and bolted toward the sound.

Two men were on him, struggling to take whatever valuables they could find. Gojo was on the ground, his usual confidence replaced by a rare flicker of panic. He was trying to fight off the best he could but with no results.

It took seconds to act. You swooped down, taking them on swiftly. One man lunged with a knife, and though you dodged, the blade grazed your arm, leaving a sharp sting. Gritting your teeth, you didn’t let it slow you down.

With precision and force, you subdued them both, tying them up before they even had a chance to realize what had hit them.

Once they were secured, your eyes flicked to Gojo. He was still on the ground, staring up at you with wide eyes, his usual grin nowhere to be found. You gave him a quick once-over—he seemed fine, just shaken.

Satisfied, you turned away, preparing to launch yourself back into the air. But just as your feet left the ground, a strong hand grabbed your ankle, yanking you down.

You gasped, flipping upside down as he pulled you back, leaving you dangling face to face with him.

“I... I’m fine,” he stammered, his voice trembling slightly but growing steadier with every word. His eyes, filled with something you couldn’t quite name, locked onto yours. “But... stay with me. Please.”

The rain continued to pour around you, the alley dim and quiet except for the sound of your breathing and his desperate plea. It's a narrow space making him really close.

Your back pressed against the wall, your breath shallow, and your heart racing so loudly you swore he could hear it. Gojo’s gaze stayed locked on yours as he stepped closer, his confidence unwavering. There was no escape now—not from him. He already knew, and the realization sent a wave of both dread and relief washing over you.

Before you could muster a word, his hand slipped to the back of your head, his touch firm yet gentle. He leaned in and kissed you—through the mask.

It was awkward and strange—kissing upside down with fabric between you—but the tenderness in the gesture made you freeze. His lips moved softly, unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. Your eyes widened in shock, your mind screaming at you to move, to do something. But your heart? Your heart betrayed you, hammering so wildly you feared it might give everything away.

When he pulled back, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His blue eyes, piercing even in the rain-drenched darkness.

Your grip on the web tightened, trembling slightly as you brought one hand to the edge of your mask. Rain trickled down your face as you hesitated, the moment stretching endlessly before you finally pulled it off.

The mask fell away, revealing everything you’d tried so hard to hide.

Gojo’s smile widened, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. You saw it all in his eyes—the understanding, the mischief, and something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

Before he could react, before he could say something to break the moment, you pulled him in, your lips meeting his with a sudden urgency.

The kiss was real now—no barriers, no hesitation. It was raw, messy, and electric, the rain soaking both of you as the world around you faded into nothing. His hands moved to steady you, holding you like he didn’t want you to slip away again.

Gojo's lips trailed from your mouth to your cheeks, then to your nose, each kiss lingering as if he were trying to memorize every part of you. When he reached your neck, the position—hanging upside down—made the blood rush to your head, amplifying every sensation.

His lips were warm and soft, his movements deliberate as he left a trail of kisses along your skin. When he reached the sensitive spot just below your jaw, you couldn't help the small, involuntary moan that escaped your lips.

Gojo froze for a moment, his lips still pressed to your neck, before he chuckled softly against your skin. "Was that a moan?" he teased, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine.

"Shut up," you muttered, though the words lacked any bite. Your breath hitched as he kissed that same spot again, slower this time, and your grip on the web tightened.

He didn’t let up. His kisses became softer, deeper, as if he were trying to consume every sound you made, swallowing each gasp and moan like they were his own. His arms tightened around you, holding you in place as if afraid you'd disappear the moment he let go.

"Gojo," you whispered, voice shaky, barely audible over the sound of the rain.

"Say my name again," he murmured against your skin, his tone smug but laced with something deeper.

You wanted to push him away, to regain some sense of control, but his lips found another sensitive spot, and your resolve crumbled. The way he kissed you, the way he held you—it wasn’t just playful anymore. There was an intensity in his touch, a need, a desperation that mirrored your own.

"Let me breathe," you managed to say between gasps, though the words were weak and your hands betrayed you by gripping his shirt instead of pushing him away.

"Not a chance," he murmured, a grin evident in his voice as he pressed another kiss to your neck.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

THE UPSIDE DOWN KISS JDMIFHJFNRUBFDEIEOFNUGBF

happy birthday my glorious king 🤴 🔵👄🔵

(idk who the artist is but credit to them)

some google searches about our oiled and double caked up king

@river-ride , @that-b-word-lol , @meforpr3sident , @khenanadeche , @webreathfandoms , @tykaii , @uniquecutie-puffs , @strxberryicecream , @tbzzluvr , @haruhatake , staarflowerr , @kouyoumarryme , @ash--007 , @junglejuicee , @nora-soramame , @exquisitelion , @elitesanjisimp , @bitchycloudstrawberry , @koshhin , @izzyb3ll4 , @sugurubabe , @qualitygiantshoepsychic , @dann-acalle , @izabellamendo , @aimsky , @khaleesihavilliard , @gumiiiiezzzz , @quinny23 , @lillycore , @ranatherealestsigma , @minaa-06 , @gorgeousgust , @rreveurdoll , @yourgirljasmine5 , @arabellasolstice , @whytfisgojosohot , @ilybbg , @ravenmoore14 , @jeon-blue , @beautiful--macabre , @r0ckst4rjk , @insomnicshello , @hakuwaii , @cherriee-ee , @fandomqueen696 ,

part 3 full on x

APT. Gojo's version

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:12 A.M 」

based on a suggestion! a bit short and i ran out of gojo headers :') i think i've used all them up...

a part of gojo's love entries

“why me not here?”

on one fine morning, your three-year-old son, perched on satoru’s lap, pointed at one picture during your wedding day in the album and dropped the question curiously.

“hmm, why, you ask?” satoru’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “heh. that’s because you weren’t invited. booo.”

your toddler son turned to him with wide eyes as if betrayed, shocked. “...why?”

“we ran out of invitations for you, kiddo. sorry~”

“...” your son, all with his white hair and blue eyes, looked conflicted for one minute straight, before his eyes went glassy. the very sight got satoru almost crack up.

“hey minion, don’t fry your brain over it,” he chuckled, pinching both his cheeks.

his pumpkin merely glared back at him before focusing back on the album. “evil papa!” he accused, pursing his lips into a huge pout. “what papa and mama do...?”

satoru glanced at the picture of you in your traditional kimono, smile forming in his face. “well, i married mama then.”

“what is marry?”

hmm, now that was unexpected. “well...”

“why marry?”

pressed for a decent answer but failed to find any, he blurted the first thing that popped up in his mind. “to... produce you, of course.”

“huh...?” your boy's eyes positively lit with total confusion, staring back at him with so much incredulousness.

“well, simply because it’s wrong to produce you if we are not married~”

“...” your baby son didn't understand, that much is clear with the frown in his little face, and satoru really thought he would question him further until—

“mamaaa!” he bolted out of his grasp and ran to find you. satoru immediately followed him suit in half-panic.

meanwhile, you were about to check out your cart in the online shopping platform in the living room when your son crashed himself to you. “oh my god, what did papa do to you this time?” you caught him and pulled him to your lap, somewhat surprised that his eyes welled with tears.

“papa, bad!”

“yes baby, we know that already.”

“papa said... papa and mama marry to produce!”

your eyes widened in surprise when you heard your innocent baby, and you immediately shot an irked glance at your stupid husband as he approached both of you with a snarky smile.

“he always tells on me, hmph,” he puckered his lips in defiance. “what i told him is true though, i have to marry you first to put him in the oven, no?”

you couldn't believe what he said in front of your three-year old, and were about to sentence his punishment when he suddenly pressed an index finger to your lips, silencing you.

“no, no! you can’t couch me tonight! why? because i’m paying for your cart!”

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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