Take Me Home Tonight

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, cunnilingus, blow jobs, explicit sex, rough sex, breeding kink, mentions of violence, descriptions of violence (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 11k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU (If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓)

Chapter 8 - Masterlist

Chapter 9

Books are scattered all over Satoru’s dining room table, as you both are nibbling on food together, papers and pictures, documentation and even… weapon photos, evidence photos. How Satoru and you could both eat while looking at these things really made you both a little questionable, but in a way you feel so comfortable, with your years of eating while watching true crime.

Satoru Gojo is your person.

“Okay, look here, see the wound marks?” Satoru asks, sipping on a drink and leaning over you, his one arm around your waist as the other sets down the glass and points to bruising on the victim’s face.

“Oh.. it’s left-handed isn’t it?” He nods, sighing.

“Smart little brat.” He kisses the top of your head briefly, before bending over to snatch up the other document, with another victim. “Now look at her.”

“Oh shit… left-handed. Wait, there's two victims?”

“No. Two different cases.” He sighs, sitting next to you and frowning, so serious then, you gently rub his back then. “So, I haven’t told you my worst fear.”

“What is it, Satoru?” You murmur, and he looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes for a moment.

“Well, now my worst fear is losing you.” He caresses your cheek, and you melt, planting a kiss on his brow gently, sighing.

“It’s one of my new fears as well.”

“But my original fear? Putting someone innocent up, and letting someone awful go. Considering I’m a defense attorney typically, it’s the latter that haunts my dreams.” He rakes a hand through his hair, and you place your head on his shoulder, brushing your fingers down his back.

“I imagine that’s a horrible fear. And unavoidable in some situations.” He nods a bit stiffly.

“It’s the worst, and I’m worried it happened.” You blink a bit, trying to follow what he was talking about, and his fists clench at his side. “I lose myself with you. Which is beautiful, but when I was alone last night I was thinking of this case, and similarities to the first high case I did… and I think it’s fucked up.”

“Do you think you missed something, Satoru?” You gently ask, and you hate how sad he looks, forlorn.

“I do. There was a case where I saw no way to do anything but get this kid life sentence, because the possibility of parole is fifteen years, right? Better than a needle in the arm.”

“Very true. But you think…”

“Yeah, I had a feeling he was innocent, deep down in my heart, but how could I have done anything? It was all stacked against the kid. He had a shit record, he even had assault in the past, but he was young, younger than you. I thought I was being the best to him I could.” He slams his fist down, and you tense a bit, grabbing his drink and bringing it to his lips.

You watch as he gulps down some of it, sighing. “Satoru don’t beat yourself up over this, isn’t this still a hunch?”

“Nah, baby girl, I’m pretty damn sure I’ve seen this before. It’s been driving me insane. And now I have to defend this person who could actually have been killing for who knows how long!? Fuck me.” He’s slamming his hands down again, turning and walking away, sighing.

“Okay so let’s think logically here…” You pull back out the files, taking a sip of the drink yourself as Satoru is pacing. He’s wearing his dress shirt loose, his chest showing, tie askew, belt slung off and trousers hanging low. He’s gorgeous but you need to focus on this. “The man you put up, he was left-handed, yeah?”

“Yeah, he was.”

“But the women look identical, and the attack is damn near the same. So we have to think, what could connect these two men? Could they have been at the same place at the same time, to meet these girls?” Satoru pauses, then snatches up the bottle of vodka on the table, pouring some in both of your glasses.

“Huh. You’re smart as fuck.” You flush under the praise, and look at him just drinking the vodka without anything.

“Thank you. Satoru… I need a mixer.” He smirks finally, rolling his pretty eyes and batting his white lashes.

“What a baby.”

“Says the man who drinks chocolatinis!”

“You started that, brat. Mmkay, I have mixers, come on let's go find ya something.” You hop up from the table, taking in Satoru’s lush home. It was beautiful, spotless and modern, gray walls with white crown moulding, all the fixtures brand new and beautiful. His bar was impressive, black marble counter and high stools, pretty soft fairy lights hanging.

He opens the black cabinets, pulling out a bright green bottle then. “Ooh, that looks yummy!”

“You like sour apple?” You nod, and Satoru is expertly mixing you up a pretty bright drink, you sip it moaning.

“A girl could get used to this treatment.” Satoru comes to you then, hands on your waist, leaning low, and you inhale his clean scent, intoxicating you. Your body instinctively arches to him.

“You trying to move in already, huh?” You giggle, shaking your head.

“No, silly. That would be too fast, yeah?”

“I’d let you. Aw, you’re bright red.” He teases you, and your entire body lights up at his words.

“You’re so crazy, Satoru Gojo.” You say softly, leaning up on your tip toes, and he leans down, kissing you gently, you taste the liquor mixed with his minty breath, feel his firm lips on yours. “Mmm, didn’t say I never would though.”

“When you’re not in my class huh? We’ll get married too.”

“Satoru!”

“What? You wouldn’t?”

“You’re talking nonsense.”

“Am I? You probably doodled it already.”

“Did not!” You both laugh then, but the tension is there, the way Satoru casually mentions weddings, babies, moving in. Like it’s nothing. “Satoru, it's hard to know what you really mean. Like the baby thing…”

“What, I meant that. I’d love to get you pregnant.” His words hit something primal, something that makes your tummy clench, his whisper reverberating through every inch of your body.

“The school would love that.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes, hand sliding over your tummy then, making you tremble.

“Fuck them, but you wouldn’t show till after you’re out of my class.” He grins, his white teeth glinting.

“Stop that! Staying on the pill for now.”

“You’re boring.” He’s pouting and you just giggle.

“I have a career you know.”

“Good, have the baby with us all the time. Lawyer by age ten. Our genetics would be killer, yeah?”

“You’re so ridiculous. But yeah.” You both chuckle then again, and you take a sip of your drink, lips puckering just a bit as it hits you. “Something about that vision makes my ovaries ache.”

“You’re ovulating. Perfect time.” He chimes out in a sing-song voice, you bite back a moan, sipping your drink.

“You don’t need to tell me. I think I went insane in the limo.” He’s grinning like the damn mad hatter now, as vivid memories rush through you of earlier.

“You took it all. I think you have sucked dick before mine! And that makes me unreasonably jealous.” You roll your eyes now, snorting and shaking your head.

“Not at all, I just apparently need to be the best at everything.” You take another sip grinning.

“You really are. I don’t think I’ve had someone make me cum so quick, fuck it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re kinda easy, Toru.” He glares and you just grin more deviously, as he picks you up and sits you on the bar, running his hands up and down your thighs, creating a pattern of goosebumps everywhere he touches. You gently run your hands down his shoulders, rubbing the stiff muscles and making him moan. “Turn, I’ll rub your neck, you’re crazy tense.”

“What’d I do to deserve you?” His casual compliments kill you, every minute you spend with Satoru Gojo makes you just fall deeper. Your fingers press into his stiff neck, making him moan, leaning back against you. “Fuck that feels good.”

“I’ll rub your back any time, Toru. As long as you rub mine.”

“I’ll probably just get horny and fuck you.” You laugh at that, breathy and soft, planting kisses on his neck, pressing your fingers deeper in little circles, trying to work on a knot there.

“Fine, you can just eat me out.” He groans, hands on your thighs tightening as he leans back more against you.

“I’ve been doing that since I met you.” His husky voice has you dripping against your panties, and you try to focus on rubbing deeper, loosening his tense body as much as you can. “It’s my favorite thing to do.”

“It’s my favorite thing.” You whisper in his ear, watching him tremble a bit, grip tightening, while your hands press deeper, massaging between his shoulder blades now, where most of his tension is. “You’re really tense here.”

“I will pay you to massage me every day. Oh and to dress slutty.” He sips your drink now. “Ooh yummy.”

“You could hire a professional!”

“Nah. I’ll just pay you. With diamonds.” You peek at your bracelet, shaking your head. “Then I’ll just buy you another bracelet.”

“You can get me a bead. That’s it.”

“I’ll sneak things on you in your sleep. Then it’ll be rude to turn it down.” You can’t stop the smile on your face at his words.

“Maybe.” You say softly, continuing to rub lower now, feeling his spine just pop then, and he groans. “There it is.”

“I’ll marry you now, woman.”

“Stop that, do you know what you do to my mentality? So casually.” His hands slide down your calves now, as he tilts his head side to side.

“What? It’s true.”

“You can’t just say things like that. Already feel like I’m dreaming.” Another pop, as he cracks his neck, becoming putty in your hands.

“Fine, brat, I won’t propose yet if you’re such a baby about it.”

“You so were not gonna!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Satoru!” You press really hard and he groans again.

“Never mind, marry me.” You both laugh and then you continue rubbing down his back, to the mid part of it, feeling every stupidly strong muscle through his dress shirt, watching the soft fabric stretch as you press.

“So, my thoughts on that case…”

“Buzz kill!”

“I know, but it’s bothering me now.” Satoru moans again as your hands knead into his aching back. “Any clubs they could have been at together? Both of those women were… um, escorts yeah?”

“High class too, yeah. I had an informant that worked with them on the first case, but no way she’d remember that far back. It was six years ago.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. Maybe we see if she remembers seeing this guy you’re defending? But in that case, you still have to defend him. Fuck.”

“You’re annoyingly smart.” He glares back at you as he speaks. “You remind me of me in law school.”

“High praise.” Your hands are going lower now, and he’s leaning so close it’s hard to move your arms, so instead your hands slide down his shoulders, wrapping his chest and leaning your chin on his neck. “We should get with her and ask while we’re doing the case.”

“You really wanna meet her? See these things… I don’t know how involved you want to be.”

“I need to see it all, Satoru. I really do. If this is going to be what I do I have to know what I’m in for, good, bad or horrible.”

“This girl was assaulted too, but she couldn’t see him. What if it’s the fucking guy I’m defending!?” You snuggle closer, though his back was less tense his entire body was not.

“How do you act so happy with all this happening?” You ask it softly, and he turns his head to you, nuzzling yours.

“I have to.”

“Not with me you don’t.” He exhales, turning then, hands sliding up your thighs, eyes boring into yours, pain on that beautiful face mixed with clear affection, mirroring your own. You gently brush his hair back, and his eyes flutter shut, lips parting as he sighs.

“That’s the most addicting thing about you, I don’t have to pretend.” Your heart thuds in your chest, and you pull him closer, planting a kiss on his chin, heart brimming with affection.

“You never have to pretend around me. You have a lot of responsibility.”

“Yeah, you do too already. I’m putting a lot on you.”

“No, no I want this, okay? I won’t let studies slack, I’m a nerd.” He smirks, planting a soft kiss on your nose.

“You are my little nerdy student, huh? Ace every test.”

“Sure do.”

“I don’t wanna talk about the case anymore tonight. Let’s revisit it tomorrow, yeah? I’m suddenly realizing my student needs some attention.” His voice gets husky, his eyes dilating as he’s slipping your dress up your thighs, and you manage a little nod, then he’s picking you up, like you’re nothing, carrying you to his room.

You’re in Satoru Gojo’s room, huh?

His room is just a little disorganized, a bit unlike the rest of the house, you see his ties hanging on a lamp, his fancy sunglasses just tossed on the sleek black dresser, his bed is a little wild, rumpled and unmade. You peek around curiously, and he’s kissing down your neck, his room alone is twice the size of your dorm.

“Like the room, brat?” He teases, and you nod, leaning back to kiss him deeply, hands enwrapping in his silky white locks.

“It’s more you than the rest of the house.” You murmur between kisses, he hums, easing you down on the bed now, and it’s so comfy you could die, plush and sinking a bit as you sit.

“You mean because the cleaner doesn’t come in here?” He’s pushing your skirt up, pressing you onto the bed, kissing your thighs, his hands sliding your panties off inch by inch. It’s hard to breathe, as you’re consumed by him, by his presence, taking you over with every touch.

“Yeah, it just seems more… Gojo.” He chuckles, planting sweet kisses on your thighs, hot breath making you tremble. “Mnh…”

“We had a deal, yeah? Massage for pussy eating.”

“I also said massage!”

“I’ll massage her with my tongue.” He’s buried himself then, his mouth hot and wet on your pussy, and you’re gripping the soft blankets under you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he licks and kisses and sucks, his tongue flicking against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.

“Satoru! Oh my god!” You moan out his name, your hips bucking up to meet his mouth, and he just holds you down, his grip firm as he continues to worship you, his tongue sliding up and down your slit, making you gush all over his perfect face.

“So yummy, you’re such a good girl.” He whispers, leaning back,  his hands sliding up to cup your breasts under your top. You’re shaking, damn near hyperventilating as you stare down at his beautiful eyes, dilated and bright to the point his eyes alone bring you closer.

“Fucking love you.” You whisper, it’s the first time since your confession that you’ve said it, and fuck it feels so good. Satoru groans, planting a sloppy kiss on the hood of your clit, then sucking on the puffy lips, little smacks filling the room as you cry out, back arching in pleasure.

“And I love you. Hmm am I talking to the pussy or you? You’ll never know.” He says with a smirk, and you giggle before he’s back to devouring you, groaning and making a vibrating sensation you can’t fucking take.

“S’good Toru- ngh f-fuck!” You scream out, you’re so close to cumming, and you know he knows it because he’s looking up at you, watching your reactions, and it’s so fucking hot. Your hands grip his hair, bucking your hips up. “Cumming!”

He just moans, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, and you’re falling apart, cumming with a scream, your body arching off the bed, and he doesn’t stop, even then, no he’s drinking you up. You’re whining now, oversensitive as he licks you through your orgasm into another, his hands sliding to your waist, gripping you so tight you feel him pressing on your ribs, hands enwrapping you.

“Toru! Oh my- mmm!” You’re senseless, screaming as your head shoves further in the bed, you can’t fucking take it, thighs threatening to close, but he doesn’t pause, or even breathe no he’s just drinking you up, and you’re shattering again. “Toru, enough, enough! Ah!” 

You cum all over his face so hard you’ve soaked him completely, and he’s just groaning, as he laps you up with little flicks of his talented tongue, smacking kisses as he cleans up your mess. You’re so embarrassed at how much there is too, as your legs are shaking and he’s finally leaning up to breathe, his face is shimmering with how much you’ve came.

“Toru…” You swipe some of your arousal off his chin, and he smacks your hand away, leaning on top of you, licking his lower lip. “That’s embarrassing… too much.”

“What? It’s so fucking hot. Stop that.” He’s on top of you, his hard chest on your soft breasts, weight on you so inviting, and you cling to him, still clothed both of you, and he’s so hot you’re just dripping again. “I love how much you cum for me, it lets me know you like it.”

“But that much!?” He chuckles softly, caressing your face softly and studying you. Your hands slide up to his chest, feeling his heart thudding on your palm, pressure in your tummy as your cunt pulses with aftershocks.

“Yes, that much, or more. You always taste so good. It was what made me lose my shit that night.” He kisses you then, and you lick your honeyed arousal, moaning against his full lips, as he sinks you both deeper into the bed.

“I still can’t believe I did that. Yes, stranger, eat me out in a bathroom.” You murmur, and you both grin at each other. “Fuck it feels a long time ago huh?”

“It’d be much longer if I didn’t see you again. Fuck I kept going back to the same bar.” He’s flushed a bit, but it makes you ache more, hips raising to grind on his hard cock between your thighs over his clothes.

“You did!?” You blink rapidly, taking a shaky breath as his presence consumes you, his long body overtaking yours, his eyes getting hooded in desire, just like yours were, as his words sink in.

“I did. Embarrassing huh.”

“N-no… I did too, Satoru.”

“You did!?”

You blush now, nodding, clinging to his dress shirt with your little hands. “Of course I tried. I’m surprised neither of us ran into each other?”

“Maybe I was just meant to have you torture me in class.” His voice drops down to a whisper now, and he leans up on his arms. “I need my student naked. Now.”

“Yes, Professor.” He’s sliding your top off in seconds, and you eagerly unbutton his dress shirt, then he’s unsnapping your bra, freeing your breasts and groaning as he does, pulling you against his bare chest. “You’re so gorgeous, Toru.”

“I know.” You snort at that, and then he grins, sliding his hands up to cup your breasts, kissing down them, making you cry out in pleasure, cunt just wetter now. “You’re gorgeous, Miss Brat.”

“Your prettiest student, hmm?” You whisper, he nods eagerly, before sucking the sensitive peaks of your breasts into his hot, eager mouth. “Ah, fuck! Mnh!”

“The sounds you make, mmm you kill me, brat.” He’s unzipping the side of your skirt now, eyes devouring your body hungrily. He makes you feel so confident, so sexy and beautiful. You whine out just from his gaze, like he’s touching you with his hands, but soon he does, trailing down as he slides your skirt down, and you are unbuttoning his pants, biting your lower lip.

“Your body, ugh.” He smirks, wiggling his brows.

“I know, I’m perfect hmm?” You roll your eyes but it’s true, as you touch every line on his gorgeous frame, every muscle, abdomen, line… the perfect pale skin that is hot to the touch.

“You’re perfect, Satoru. And you clearly have a praise kink, judging by that.” You look down between you both as his cock is rock hard in his boxers.

“That’s part praise kink, part you’re touching me, part you’re beautiful. Take your pick.” He snatches your hand, shoving it down, and you grip him, watching as his cheeks suck in, his white lashes swooping low as he groans softly.

“Let’s get these off.” Satoru has got them off in a blink of an eye, his cock hard and hot in your hand, you stroke him up and down slowly, swirling your hand as you do, watching his pretty face as he moans, grabbing you by your hair and kissing you then. “So hard, aren’t you?”

“Tease.” You just smile innocently, swiping the bit of pre cum that’s started to leak out of his pretty pink tip, and he’s huffing, so sexy, until he lets out the whimper that drives you insane, and then he’s got your legs up, dragging you by your hips. “I’ll teach you to tease.”

“Oh yeah? Teach me, Professor.”

“You’re such a brat, you know my weaknesses and exploit them! You’ll be such a good lawyer.” He flashes a wolfish grin, but when he’s pressed at your entrance you start whining, getting slippery as he barely presses, arching up for more.

“Please, Toru…” Your words hit him instantly, he’s pressing in, sliding even deeper in your tight entrance.

“How can I say no to anything you ask? With that pretty face. Oh… fuck, you’re tight… shit…” He’s groaning as he slides in fully, and your walls are clutching tight around him, he clings to you tightly, eyes slamming shut momentarily. “Fuck, should’ve fingered you, damn it.”

“Too tight huh?” You’re giggling but he scowls at you, slamming in your cunt then, and you feel so full, so much pressure you can’t take it, as he starts stroking, way faster and harder than he usually would, killing you. “Fuck!”

“Learn your lesson, brat.” He’s slamming his lips down, kissing you hungry and desperate, and he’s got your legs higher than you think they should go, pressing them high until they’re on your breasts, making it hard to breathe. You whine out, hips bucking, and he’s smirking. “Aww you okay baby? Can’t take it?”

Satoru Gojo was a sweet, caring, amazing man… until he got that competitive streak, mainly in fucking. Then? He’s a whole demon.

“F-fuck you, I can take it.” You whisper out the answer, but when Satoru’s big hands are cupping your face, and he’s staring at you like that? Your brows knit together, your teeth clicking shut as you feel such intensity you can’t handle it, you’re cumming all over his cock and he exhales, pausing, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his tip grinds too deep inside you.

“Fuck, I love you.” He moans out the words, as he’s tensing, his movements slowing down, rolling his hips. “You’re gonna make me cum quick, fuck.”

“I love you.” He cries out softly, hands now firm on your thighs, as he gently rocks in his hips so deep you feel like you’re gonna fall apart.

“What do you do to me?” His eyes flutter shut, those long white lashes over his cheeks, casting shadows in the soft light of the room over his perfect features, and he’s barely moving, forehead on yours. You cling to him desperately, nails digging into his strong back, and he’s throwing his head back, moaning. “Cum with me, baby girl, can’t even last. Brat.”

You manage a breathless giggle, nodding, your walls fluttering around his thickness. “Please, please… cum in me, Toru.”

“Fill you up.” He’s just whispering though, as he pumps in and out, and you feel him pulsing inside of you, and your body reacts, and you’re falling apart around him, cumming right with him, everything fading but him.

It’s just him.

“F-fuck… take all of it. Good girl.” Your back arches as everything washes through you, every nerve ending lit up as your cunt is pulsing around him. He slams his lips down on yours, finally easing your thighs down, they’re sore as he rubs them gently, pumping life into them as he pumps all his cum in your pussy.

“S-Satoru… love you. Mnh.” You whisper, and he moans, kissing you again and again, deeply and passionate, tongues entwining, messy as you’re dripping down his length, down your thighs, and he leans back, looking down at you. Your hand slides up to caress his face, feeling the sharp cheekbone with your thumb.

“Stop making my bust quick, little brat.” He says, and you just giggle, shaking your head.

“I came though, a few times.”

“You get off on making me cum like a teenager. Be honest.”

“Mmm… maybe?” He tickles your waist then, as he eases out, and you giggle at it, eventually hopping up, completely naked and smacking him with one of his heavy, fancy pillows. He grins like a psycho.

“Oh, it’s fucking on. War.” He smacks the fuck out of you with the pillow, nearly knocking you over, so you pout, and then he frowns, coming up to you, to check you, only for you to grin and smack him with the pillow even harder.

“Hah, fell for it!”

“You’re gonna pay for it.” He gets you again until he’s got you pinned back under him, and he’s grinning down at you, you puff your breath to get the feathers out of your face. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty, Satoru.” He’s kissing you till you're breathless, and then he pauses, leaning up a bit and studying you carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh… I’m really worried now. You look like one of those girls, your hair, your eyes even… I don’t know if I can bring you.”

“What!? I’m going!”

“But I can’t fucking risk it, what if this guy-”

“You’ll keep me safe.”

He exhales, but you see the worry on his features. “Of course I will, but I just didn’t put it together until now. You’re the same age, obviously not the same profession… but…”

“Satoru I will be fine. I want to help you. We will figure out the possible motivations, okay?” Satoru sighs, caressing your face gently, anguish in his blue eyes making them darken.

“I just fucked you and now I’m worrying about this case.”

“So what? It’s important to you. Do you wanna do more research?” He sighs, nodding then, and soon you’re sliding on your pajama’s you’ve brought, and you two are back out in the living room, pouring over the papers, but you’re yawning a bit after about an hour or so. Satoru notices, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I wanna cuddle with you and relax but now that I’m thinking of you at risk it’s gonna drive me fucking crazy.” He runs a hand through his white silky locks, missing them up further.

“Satoru, I don't mind at all. I want to help anyway I can.” You stifle another yawn, and he looks at you tenderly, you see he’s sleepy too, his eyes a little red.

“You worked today and had classes. Go get some shut eye, Miss Brat. I promise I’ll come to bed soon.”

“Just a little longer.” You murmur, leaning on his shoulder then, as he’s typing on his little black laptop, pouring over more papers now, the clicking of the keys mixed with Satoru’s breathing is oddly even more comforting.

“Baby you’re drooling.” He teases in a few, and you blink a little, bleary eyed as you shake your head.

“No… Toru, m’good… those girls-”

“Don’t let it overwhelm you, please.” You shake your head again, your eyelids feel so heavy.

"We need to look into the escort agency, Toru. Maybe there's something in their past, something that connects these women to each other and to the victims." He smiles at you, holding you against his side, kissing your cheek again.

“Already on it. You’re so smart, you know that?” You smile at the compliment, and soon he’s grabbed a blanket, and you’re in his arms, half asleep on his lap. “You can just sleep on me, I’ll carry you to bed later.”

You hum happily, snuggling up to his hard, hot body, and he pulls you close, arms around your waist, continuing to click away, and your face buried in his neck, he wraps the blanket tighter. You feel sleep tugging at you, you’re just so comfortable in his arms, you can’t imagine how you slept before.

Satoru pours over the case, hearing you lightly snore, making him smirk just a bit, you say you don’t but you do. And it’s cute. Everything about you, from your soft hair falling against his chest, to your warm little body snug on his lap makes him ache more for you. Your gentle breathing, your scent, the way you cling to him and just fit so perfectly.

How had Satoru gone so long without you here?

He focuses back on the screen, and it starts blurring a bit, a mix of exhaustion, stress and the drinks from earlier. But it’s driving him insane, the thought that he could have put someone up wrongly. It’s been eating at him all week since he’s taken the new case, but now you were here, and fuck you’re so smart, it’s so nice to just have you here.

But he’s worried.

If something happened to you? Satoru doesn’t know how he could go on. Without seeing your pretty smile, the little scrunch of your nose, the way your eyes drink him in, the love is so pure in them. The way you love him makes every pain he has so much more tolerable, and there’s so many things he hasn’t told you yet. He trusts you completely, but he’s scared.

He’s not one to be vulnerable, but you make it so easy to be, though he doesn’t know how much he should put on you, how much of the darkness deep inside him he should show. Satoru has always been fun, goofy and silly outwardly, though when alone he’s anything but, and it’s so nice to be able to show that more with you.

He loves you so much it’s consuming, it gets more and more intense every moment, every second that you breathe in his vicinity, every moment he gets to look at you. You sigh a bit, after a good half hour, and Satoru’s back is getting stiff, fuck you massaging it had felt so good. Things are so good with you it’s terrifying, how easy it is to be with you.

But the world has other ideas.

He doesn’t want to hide you, not hold your hand in public, sneak in your itty bitty apartment, as fun as it may be. He doesn’t want you living there, struggling, he wants to take care of you, fuck if you weren’t so passionate Satoru wouldn’t ever even have you work. He loves your talent too much though for that, the genius mind of yours, so open to him.

He wants to open up more to you, but something still terrifies him, his parents' rejections most of his life did a number, as cocky as he comes off it sometimes is just a show, to make up for it. One thing he’s self assured in though is law, the one thing his parents never wanted, no he needed to take over the family business, exploit people and pay them like shit.

But Satoru went his own way, and now they loved to tell him how disappointing he is, when he literally was the top criminal defense attorney there was. But no, nothing was good enough, but you make him feel good enough, don’t you? With every look and every touch, you make him feel like he’s doing good. How in just a few months have you become so precious?

He caresses your cheek, looking down after finally closing his laptop, you briefly open your eyes, long lashes fluttering, your eyes struggling to focus on him. You’re so cute when you sleep, it’s so different from the feisty thing you are when you’re awake. He smiles at you as you yawn, snuggling him closer.

“Let’s get to bed, yeah baby?” You nod, humming a bit and getting up, just for Satoru to snatch your body up in his arms. You smile sleepily at him, little hand coming up to brush his hair back. Fuck every time you do that you break him more and more.

“Sleepy, Toru.” He chuckles, carrying you to bed, watching you snatch his favorite pillow and wrap in the blankets.

He’ll let you use it.

“You know you’re the first girl to sleep in here?” He asks softly, figuring you’re asleep, but you turn to him curiously, eyes lidded and full lips parted.

“Am I really? How?”

“I never let anyone stay.”

“I’m special, Toru, hmm?” You tease, a little grin on your pretty face, and Satoru will do anything to keep it there. He snuggles with you, pulling your rounded ass against him with a groan, an arm around your waist. Fuck you feel so good in his arms, you do run hot but it’s perfect, he adores this feeling more than he’ll admit.

“You’re especially annoying.” You stick your tongue out, he chuckles, pecking a little kiss on your head, inhaling the sweet scent of you that he can never get out of his mind.

“You love me, shut it.”

“Of course I love you.” Your eyes glisten with tears. “Crybaby.”

“Mmm, shush.” You kiss him sweetly, he watches as the shadows in the room play along your delicate features. God you’re so beautiful. “Not even Suguru slept in here? I don’t believe that.”

Satoru grins then. “I mean the only woman. Of course I’ve cuddled with Sugu!”

“Cuddled, huh?”

“That’s what I call it.” You snort at that, shaking your head. “You are just thinking about us both here with you. Freaky girl.” You giggle a bit, shaking your head.

“I only want you, Toru. Ever.”

Your words stop his heart, slurred a bit as your yawn cuts them off, so genuine it makes him ache. His throat closes up as you do what no one has, making him feel like he’s the only person in the world for you. So special. He blinks back emotion and is glad your eyes are drifting and you don’t see the tears threatening to fall.

“I only want you, ever.” He says softly back, but you’re asleep again, you’re a sleepy little thing aren’t you?

Satoru sighs, pulling you close and laying there for a while, the trial in his mind, the worry there of his past mistakes, of putting you in some danger, but you ease it with his presence, enough that it’s not too long until he follows you into slumber.

*****

Two days later

Satoru and you sit in the courtroom together, and the man next to you both makes you shiver, Satoru’s wearing a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit, fitting his lithe body like a glove. His hair is falling soft and silky, a sleek skinny black tie adorning his starched collar, fuck he looks so good, you muse, as one of his hands squeezes your thigh, and he smiles at you.

“Are you doing okay, Miss Brat?” Satoru murmurs softly, and you nod, hand over his, thumb brushing against his knuckles like he enjoys, earning a sigh from his pretty lips.

“I’m excited to see you in action again, Professor Gojo.” You say softly, and he grins at that, teeth glinting under the fluorescent lights of the courtroom. Satoru’s fan group has gathered, even though you are hours away, they seem very devoted. “They want a wave I think.”

He rolls his eyes, then looks back at the fans, standing for a moment, you hold in a giggle as they gasp, bouncing up and down as he tugs at his pinstripe jacket, winking over to them, shooting two fingers in a salute. It would be corny if it was anyone else, but since it was Satoru Gojo, it was hot. You can’t lie.

You’d be a fan if you weren’t in his bed, surely.

“Oh my god!”

“Gojo!”

“Gojo is she your girlfriend!?”

At that you tense, because if your relationship got out it would fuck your college and career up so badly. You struggle to keep composed, as you know he has to say no, it’s what has to happen, but you know it’ll sting. Satoru laughs a bit at their question, throwing his head back.

“She’d turn me down.” He winks down at you, and you cover your face in embarrassment at the girls.

“No, no one could!”

“Gojo are you single!?”

“Gojo-”

“Ladies, ladies, calm down. The judge will yell at me.” Satoru pouts, looking far too charming, and the girls hush, with the promise of pictures later. Satoru sits back down, looking at you softly, his blue eyes so bright they’re hard to look at. “I hope I handled that right, I’m an idiot you know.”

“No, handled it perfectly.” You whisper, making him exhale. He was worried about your feelings, it touches you so deeply you get emotional.

“I wish…” He trails off, and you just smile a bit sadly.

“One day. Soon ish.” He sighs, and raises his hand as if to brush your hair back, quickly dropping it, but you could feel the caress regardless. Oh how you ache for this man.

“Yeah.” Is his only response, then the judge walks in, this one is different, she’s a little less stern looking, she has pretty flowing black hair.

“All rise, for the honorable Miss Inoue.” The bailiff says, and you feel the lack of Satoru’s hand on your thigh like a deep emptiness. Your hands barely touch, back to back, and you shut your eyes for a moment at it, before taking a breath and focusing. This was gonna be rough.

Satoru had to defend him, but you both were already gathering evidence to the contrary, to possibly charge him with another offense. It put Satoru in a horrible situation, and he’d barely slept, it had even been quiet in the drive here, you all had gotten ready in adjoining rooms, giving him a little silence. He didn’t want to hurt you but he did need some.

Your heart hurts for him, you wish he would share a little more of his feelings, but he tries to keep you in the loop, without actually revealing too much. You would take all of him, however, without hesitation, whether he wanted to be open or not, you would wait forever for him.

Tonight you all are going to the escort agency, to question an old informant of Satoru’s, and you both would learn more. But for now, he has to save face, and do the best job he can. You can’t imagine how hard it is, you can just feel it in his energy, but he turns on that charm like a flip of a switch.

“Court is in session. Let’s commence.” Miss Inoue says, and she lets the prosecution make their opening statement.

“This man here, Naoya Zen’in, is a rich playboy, has gotten everything he’s ever wanted handed to him on a silver spoon.” The lawyer starts, a stern man with a very good history from what you’ve researched. “But for once, a woman didn’t want him, so what does he do? He rapes, assaults, ends her life. This is what men do like him, men of power, to the powerless.”

Naoya was a blond, tall man with cold, sharp brown eyes, and a creepy grin that you suppose some women would fall for. He was handsome, you guess? But there is something about him that makes your fucking skin crawl. As they go on about him, he’s just laughing softly, leaned back against his chair casually, like this is all beneath him, a waste of time.

The handsome playboy in question smirks over at you, and he sends shivers through your spine, especially when his brown eyes look you up and down, winking. You tense, and Satoru looks at him with a glare, earning a bigger smirk, and you watch Satoru’s hands clench the bench so tightly they’re white. You gently touch Satoru’s arm, shaking your head, but he’s shaking damn near.

“Don’t fucking look at her, got me?” Satoru says in a hush, and the handsome (creepy) blonde just grins.

“Oh? Why not? She’s pretty to look at.” Satoru stands but thank goodness they call for the defense to make opening statements then, but you can tell he’s torn. You smile at him softly.

“I’m good, Satoru. Nothing’s gonna happen. Go kill it, yeah?” Satoru looks at you with his thin white brows drawn low, jaw clenched tightly, so tight you see a vein pop from under his fair skin. Then he looks back at his client.

“You won’t have eyes.” Satoru whispers, and your own widen at that, as he then grins, hands in his pockets, slinking over to the middle of the room. He’s smiling at the judge, who can’t help but smile in return. “Hello, lovely. I mean Judgy. Judge?”

The room laughs softly, aside from the prosecution of course, but Naoya seems to have his eyes fixed on you. You ignore him pointedly, focusing instead on taking notes, watching Satoru do what he does best, but there is an unspoken tension, as you feel the gaze still there.

“How long you been fucking each other?” He hisses, and you glare, furious, wanting to deck the mother fucker now.

“Why don’t you focus on the murder trial against you, and not my sex life, huh Mr. Zen’in?” You ask, and he laughs, leaning closer. Thank God Satoru is facing the jury, you feel there’s no way he wouldn’t punch this guy in the face if he saw.

“Your sex life highly interests me, I wonder how good of a whore you can be. Wonder if you’ve been shown.” His words are a bare whisper, but they terrify you, filling you with such nausea you could throw up right here. Your legs are trembling, and you barely keep it together.

“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Zen’in.” He grins, and you turn your attention away, focusing on Satoru now, waves of nausea rolling through you now.

Fuck you hate this dude and you just met him.

Satoru strides across the room, a picture of confidence, and stops in front of the jury now. “This man before you, Mr. Zen’in, is not a monster, but a human being with a heart that beats just like yours and mine. Maybe he is a rich playboy, maybe he does get everything he wants, but he’s not on trial for his lifestyle, but for a crime, that doesn’t have enough proof.”

“Objection!”

Satoru rolls his eyes, head leaning back, and the judge glares at prosecution. “Let Mr. Gojo speak. Mr. Gojo, please continue.”

Satoru smiles, bowing a bit at the waist, and you hear the courtroom swoon. There were more fans now!?

“Thank you, magnificent judge. Your reputation precedes you.” He winks at her, and she’s all pink, before clearing her throat. “Ah, so before I was so rudely interrupted…” Satoru pouts, cutely, earning the hearts of almost anyone. “This guy, yeah he’s kinda a douche…”

Naoya scowls next to you, fists clenched, and you hold in the giggle, but most of the people in the court room fail.

“But just because he’s a pretentious dick, it doesn’t mean he’s a murderer, or a rapist. Surely, he has no issue paying for sex when he needs it.” Satoru looks over to Naoya with his icy blue eyes and snarky grin. You thrill on Satoru in his damn element, in him riling everyone up.

Fuck you love him.

“ I will argue, this playboy has been grossly misunderstood. Let us not be swayed by sensationalism and assumptions, but by the cold, hard facts. And when we do, I believe you will find... lovely members of the jury,” Satoru winks at them, and even the men swoon, “As I have, that there is more to this story than meets the eye.”

Satoru turns then, flashing you a grin that makes your knees knock together, fuck he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? With every eye on the room invested in his every word, every breath, every movement, slinking like the damn cat he is, his dress shoes glinting from the high polish. He tugs at his jacket a bit, loosening a couple of buttons, revealing the starch dress shirt underneath.

“Oh my god-”

“Ladies!” The judge has to calm down the girls, and you do smile then, looking back to see the mess he’s created. Satoru grins.

“So sorry, Judge, I’m afraid my loyal fans can be a little… enthusiastic.”

“No worries, Mr. Gojo. Please continue.” The judge smiles at Satoru, her chin in her hand like she’s in class. You just shake your head a bit at everything, god Satoru really was something else.

“Thank you, Miss Inoue. So… dear jury.” He earns their undivided attention. “Let me show you the truth, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you all.” He winks, and then the prosecution loses it again. “Ah, they’re being so mean! Well, we’ll speak soon, don’t worry. The defense rests its opening statement in the firm belief that we will uncover the truth together.”

Then he’s back next to you, between you and the asshole Naoya, scooching close and leaning to whisper in your ear.

“Did he say anything baby girl?” He asks, and you sigh.

“We’ll talk later, Toru.” He looks at you with concern now, brows knitted, but you just shake your head, as the defense calls their first witness.

“We’d like to call a witness, Mr. Rin to the stand.”

And so the trial begins, and you and Satoru sit, tensely for hours on end, in the gloomy courtroom, as the prosecution questions their witness, and you can feel the gears shifting in Satoru’s head as he pops a piece of candy in his mouth. He hands you on discreetly, and you smile, opening the crinkly wrapper and sucking the little mint into your mouth.

“You’ve got this, yeah?” He nods, smiling a bit, but you could see the toll, as someone possibly guilty sits next to you both.

How does Satoru handle this one?

“We got this, Miss Brat. No worries.” His hand holds yours under the table, and you sigh at how good the little touch feels.

The prosecution finishes with their witness now. “Would you like to Cross examine the witness, Gojo. I mean Mr. Gojo!” Gojo chuckles at the judge, standing as you do, to let him out of the bench, and then he saunters up to the young lady, and you feel his hesitation.

“Hello there, how are you?” He asks gently, to the young lady sitting there nervously at the stand. She sighs.

“I’ve been better?”

“Yeah, courtrooms suck, huh?” Everyone is either laughing or gasping, and the witness smiles a bit.

“They really do.”

“I know, even I get so bored, ugh.” He leans his head back, grimacing then, and you barely hold in your laugh, it’s impossible, he’s so infectious. “But listen, let’s push through it, I’m just gonna ask you a few questions.”

Satoru starts his questioning then, and you notice it’s different, he’s not hitting as hard as he normally would, because he doesn’t even think Naoya is innocent, fuck Naoya could have been doing this. Yet he’s also not going to let this just go, he has to defend him, you have no clue how he’s keeping his cool, not when the man next to you looks so fucking smug.

As Satoru paces, he tosses out questions. "Could it be that the prosecution is more interested in a swift conviction than in the actual facts of the case?" He asks to the jury,  his voice rising just enough to make it sound like a challenge.

“Objection!”

“Sustained, Mr. Gojo, could you please reline the question?” The judge says sweetly, and Satoru smiles.

“Sure, judge, could it be that there are others who stand to gain from my client's downfall?"

The witness sighs. “I don’t know if I can answer that.”

“That’s okay, let me explain to you. My client," he says, turning to gesture at Naoya, "is a young man with a lot of money, and clearly getting eyed by a lot of people who want a piece of it. Would you agree?”

“Um… I guess so, some people like that.”

“Did you like his money?” The courtroom gasps, and the girl is bright red, looking down.

Fuck this disgusts you.

You know Satoru would like to call him disgusting and to fuck off, but here he was, having to do his best.

“The money is fine, but he’s a freak.”

“Oh, freaky huh? What’s wrong with that? Whips and chains-”

“Objection!”

The judge is intrigued though. “No, overruled. Continue.”

“Ah, thank you. Listen, what’s wrong with being freaky, in consesnual acts? Are you saying that equates assault? Some smacks on the ass?” The court room is in a tizzy, and you find yourself flushing.

“Well… no. Not necessarily…”

“Exactly!” Satoru chuckles, throwing his head back, and the prosecutor, visibly rattled, tries to interject again, but Satoru waves him off with a casual flick of his wrist. "Let's not forget, kink shaming is bad.”

“Mr. Gojo!” The prosecution is so angry, and the judge sighs.

“Mr. Gojo… is there a point to this?” She asks, and Gojo nods.

“There sure is, forgive me, I got a little… flustered.” He has the audacity to look innocent and cute!

Fucking Gojo.

He’s brilliant.

They’re putty in his big hands.

“My questions are almost over, love. Can you take one more?” He asks the witness softly, and she nods eagerly. “Perfect. What a good… witness.”

You hear his fans swoon, and people behind you giggle. The witness is entranced, and you’re just amazed at this shitshow, and how well Satoru runs this all so fucking well. He butters the girl up to say anything, it was as if he didn’t even really have to try, but he was trying, you could feel it, to not go too far.

“This may be the first case I lose. On purpose, if we can’t find anything on this fucker.” Satoru had said earlier, as you all drove into court, and you hold his hand that’s on your thigh, sighing.

“I know, Satoru. We’ll figure it out together.” He yanked your hand, kissing it, warm lips pressed on your trembling hand.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“The defense rests on its questioning.” Satoru says then, and soon he’s back next to you, and court eventually ends for the day.

You let out a shaky breath as Satoru walks up to the defense team, conferring with them, then all teams approach the bench to speak with the judge, and Nouya comes up close to you. You cringe internally, but outwardly you steel yourself, putting a blank expression on your face as he grins, eyes lowering to your breasts, downwards, and it feels so disgusting you struggle not to smack him for it.

“I see why he keeps you around, a shame women just aren’t fucking smart, isn’t it? But useful I suppose.” He acts casual, hands in his pockets, your fingers itch to smack him so badly you grip your books tight to you.

“Yeah, you’re real smart, ended up here and all. Me? Just aced every test and in a top law school. Without ‘daddy’s money’ too.” Your lips upturn just a bit, as you watch his stupid grin turn into a glare.

“I’d teach you a fuckin lesson, little slut, right on that pretty face of yours.” You glare, and just then Satoru is back, and he’s pulling you behind him, crossing his arms and leaning forward, his eyes are a storm of icy blue, his face furious like you’ve never seen.

“I’ll lose this case so quick, swear to fucking god. Don’t think for two seconds you’re good enough to breathe her air, got it?” He says it softly, calmly, looming over him, even though he was tall, Satoru is even taller, and you watch him back up just a step, fear in his features.

“You won’t lose, you never lose. It’s why we chose you.”

We?

Your mind runs rampant, you know the Zen’in are some of the richest people there are, and powerful. Satoru’s own family had run businesses with them, you’d found that out on accident. You tried to not pry, as you didn’t need to know what Satoru didn’t want you to, yet, but it was…

Frightening.

Did Satoru’s family…

“Let’s go.” Satoru shakes you out of your thoughts, and you realize you’ve just been standing there, you sigh, nodding and following him out. He doesn’t give his fans attention this time, he’s raging inside and you can see it, you can feel it, when you both are in the car and he’s punching the steering wheel with his fists.

“Toru, it’s okay! Promise.” You whisper, and he covers his face then, shaking his head, making you hurt for him, as you gently touch his shoulder. “Toru…”

“How can I even keep you safe if this fucker wants to-”

“I can handle myself, Toru, I’m tough you know.”

His eyes break your heart, filled with emotion as he gulps. “ Baby girl if anything happens to you… I swear-”

“Toru.” You stop him again, hands cupping his face, and he’s so tense you feel it through the air of the little car. “It’s gonna be okay. We will do this together, I will help you, I swear.”

“I can’t believe I couldn’t just beat the fuck out of him. What did he even say? All I saw was him near you whispering.” You blink then, looking down. “No, no you better tell me, I have to know what we’re dealing with.”

You take a shaky breath, sighing then. “He said I was going to learn a lesson, on my ‘pretty face’. Called me a slut, a whore. Said he’d have fun with me. Satoru!”

He’s out of the car in an instant, and you hop out to chase after him, as he’s stalking his way up the courtroom stairs. Most of the people are gone for the day, but who walks down buy Naoya himself, ankle monitor on his expensive pant leg, staring at his watch, until Satoru is right in front of him. He’s looking batshit insane, and frankly you’re fucking terrified.

“Satoru…” You murmur, coming up to touch him, and Naoya is smirking at the two of you.

“Something wrong, Gojo?”

“Need a word with you.” Satoru shoves him into a concrete pillar, and Naoya is furious, scowling back at him.

“The fuck?”

“Say anything like that again I’ll break your fucking jaw. Got it?” He demands, and Naoya actually just laughs, it’s dark and sinister. “I know who the fuck you are.”

“Oh do you, now? What’s it matter, huh? Worried about your pretty little-” Satoru punches him then, quietly and so quickly surely no one would know but you three, right in the stomach. Naoya hunches over, but he’s grinning.

“Don’t touch her, I swear to god, there’ll be nothing left to find.” Satoru whispers, and then he looks back at you, at your wide eyes, and he takes you by the hand, easing you away from the laughing man.

“See ya tomorrow, Gojo… doll.” He smirks at you and Satoru nearly punches him again, if not for you gently taking his hand.

“It’s fine, Toru, he’s not worth it.” Satoru’s eyes drink you in, and he leans close, your breath mingling.

“I’ll fucking kill him. You gonna get me off death row?” You feel his anger, his rage even under the joke.

“I’ll be the best attorney ever. I’ll show you how good I’ll be when we get back, yeah?” He stiffly walks away, and then you all are silently driving back home, your arm wrapped around his arm, snuggled close to his strong shoulder.

“I’ll wreck this mother fucker.” He mutters, as he’s driving, you feel all of his muscles so tense against you, his veins popping up around his wrists and hands at how tight he’s gripping the steering wheel.

“We’ll wreck him. Together. Yeah?”

“It took everything not to fucking kill him. Everything.”

“I know.”

Once you’re back at the hotel, you expect him to maybe want time alone, but he’s on you then, kissing you passionately, deeply, your teeth click as he’s yanking you up so close. You can barely breathe, so intense you can’t even take it, lost in him, as his hands are shaking, and you feel his body tremble, you eagerly slide his jacket off him, hands running down his body.

“You’re mine.” He says, through his teeth, his voice is hoarse and his eyes are wild, and you cup his face.

“You’re mine.” He’s moaning, then he turns you, roughly, unzipping the black dress you wore, and the cool air of the hotel room hits your skin. Satoru hungrily kisses down your neck, your shoulders, as his hands wrap around your waist, and your head tilts to the side, for him to have more access to you. “Satoru…”

“I love your body. I love how you feel. I love how you taste.” His husky words are accompanied by fervent kisses, and you melt in his arms, goosebumps everywhere he trails his lips upon. “I’ll kill anyone that touches you.”

“Satoru… don’t say that.” You whisper, but then he’s spun you around, and you’re shaking as you look up at him, at his serious face, so gorgeous and intense that you can’t think of anything else.

“I mean it. I’m sorry if it’s fucking intense, but I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me, I’m yours. I love you.” He moans softly, and as he’s kissing you again, you’re unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his perfect hard body, running your fingers down his torso, feeling the hot skin, the hard planes of his body, then your’s unbuckling his belt, and watch his eyes dilate, his lips part. “Let me make you feel good, Toru.”

“Fuck…” Is all he bites out, as his sexy moans urge you on, he steps out of his pants and you sink to your knees on the plush carpet beneath you, licking your lips as he frees his cock, slapping against his belly button, and you hungrily take him into your mouth, eyes meeting his.

“You did so good today, Toru.” You murmur, licking the salty precum from his tip, and he huffs, leaning back against the cream hotel wall, hands undoing your bun, letting your hair flow.

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby girl.” He murmurs, before moaning, throwing his head back and enwrapping his hand in your hair, starting to fuck your throat with his thick length, choking you in the most delicious way. Your hands grip his strong, muscled thighs, as he pumps his cock deeper, until there are tears in your eyes. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Mmm…” You just moan, sucking him, your cheeks hollowing out, and he’s looking down at you, pupils blown out, and you feel the tension releasing as you pump your hands up and down his length.

“Play with that perfect pussy, baby, get ready for me.” He whispers, and you dip a hand down, feeling yourself slick and hot, crying out around his length, he grips you tighter, groaning. “That’s it, good girl. Good girl.”

You’re crying out now, clit puffy and twitching under your delicate touch, in little circles, so slippery your hand slides off. Satoru’s got your face cupped in his hands, as he pumps his hips, and you’re shaking with need, grinding against your hand hopelessly, craving more friction.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Fuck.” He pulls back then, and you let him go with a pop sound of your lips, and he’s swiping the saliva and precum off your chin. “Need you, need you now baby.”

You stand on wobbly legs, then Satoru’s sliding two fingers in your eager entry, as you wrap a leg around his, and he’s holding you around your waist, slamming his lips down on yours. You’re both a mess of teeth, tongues and lips, you swallow his groans and he drinks your sighs, as he’s hitting that spot so good you can’t take it.

“Please, please, please.” You whisper out, as you gasp with pleasure, and he’s spun you then, pressing you face down on the bed, so tall he has to lift your hips up, and then he’s over you, one hand guiding his cock between your lips, and you’re arching back for more.

“Perfect pussy. Perfect mouth. Perfect body.” He gruffly says those words, one hand wraps around your throat as he bends over, sliding his cock all the way in one thrust, and you scream out loud at it. “You’re mine.”

“Yours, Toru. Yours.” He’s gripping your throat tight, starting to fuck into you, and you hear how wet you are, squishing and slapping sounds in the suite, mixed with his labored breaths and your whimpers. “Ngh, s’good f-fuck!”

“Taking me so good, baby girl.” Satoru’s cock wrecks you now, fucking you harder and harder, slamming against your cervix until you feel yourself close, head falling back as his hand squeezes gently. “Made for me. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes. Yes.” You can’t stop the moans, the cries, and then you feel the pressure burst, and pleasure washes over you in waves, as he claims you his, as he’s fucking you senseless. You don’t even remember where you are, all you know is Satoru Gojo’s cock is pounding your little pussy, and you’re shattering around it.

“Yes, cum for me… such a good girl, aren’t you?” You can’t take it, you’re too sensitive, and he’s squeezing your throat, making everything fuzzy, hazy, and you’ve cum so hard you’re soaked, dripping down the blanket, down your inner thighs, and he’s slipping easier and easier. “You’re so wet for me, so easy, huh?”

“Easy for you, Toru. You.” His big hands move you then, scooching you over the bed and laying on top of you, prone position, you feel the sweat dripping off his chest as he takes you, taking your hands and entwining them with his, planting sloppy, hot kisses along your shoulder blades. “Oh my… mnh… Love you, love you.”

“I fucking love you baby. You’re all mine. Aren’t you?” You nod, and he’s kissing up your neck now, as he’s slowing, grinding that leaking tip against your cervix until you’re cumming again, and he has to pause it feels so good, resting his head against the crook of your neck.

“You feel too good, too good. Can’t take it.” You whine out, as he’s rolling his hips, feeling your walls tighten around his cock, soaking him even more as wetness gushes from your little hole. “Toru, kiss me. Please.”

He takes your chin in a hand, as the other stays entwined with yours, and he’s drinking all your cries now, with a desperate, sloppy kiss. “Want me to cum in this pussy, paint your insides?”

“Yes. Please, please. Please, Toru. Ah!” He’s cumming right then, as you beg him, filling you up and pushing you over the brink, breathless, blinded, consumed by him.

“Fuck- perfect- so… ah… fuck…” He’s grunting, no sensible words, and you’re lost, seeing black and glitter, as Satoru consumes your soul. He eases now, kissing your sweaty back, running a hand down your spine, and you mewl weakly. “Baby…”

“Mmm… yeah? What is it, Toru?” You blink a bit, and you meet his eyes, pussy drunk off you but something is intense, even more than usual.

“I’ll never let anyone touch you. Got it?” You nod, planting a kiss on his lips, which soften under your caress. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“I know, Toru. I know.” He exhales, laying his heavy weight on you, but you love it, you love feeling him, feeling the aftershocks make both of you twitch, a sweaty mess of tangled limbs.

“I want to kill him.” You tense then, peeking back at him.

“Toru we’ll do this. We’ll get justice. I promise. We won’t have to…”

“I want to though. If he looks at you again? I…”

“We’ll get him.” He moans, kissing you again, and then he’s pushing deep inside you, where his cum was pouring out the length, but he’s still rock hard inside you. “Toru, again?”

“Again.”

ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/149180743

this is the best thing ive seen tonight 🤣

they share a single braincell when together 🧍

---

symptoms and causes | ch. 14

pairing — professor gojo x med student reader

summary — he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart — and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

word count — 18.8 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, dark and mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, moral ambiguity, borderline insane behavior by all involved, heavy angst, panic attacks, (family) trauma, anger issues, fire incident, mentions of death, illness, abuse, and blood, graphic injuries and medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey lovelies, we're back with another chapter !! didn't know when to cut this one so you'll get the whole thing in one go. beware this chapter is pretty angsty again and will contain some heavy themes. please read when you feel comfortable with it, i've updated the tw too. other then that, hope you enjoy (if that's the right thing to say to a heavy angst chapter lol).

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

"We can't go to Naoya's party."

"Why not?" Maki asked.

"Because he drugged her, maybe?" Yuta chimed in, backing you up.

"That's not even the main reason."

"It should be the main reason," Yuta.

"It's Satoru," you said, ignoring Yuta's comment.

"Dr. Handsome?" Maki asked.

"Yes."

"Why's that?"

"Because he'll be sad then."

"Sad?" Maki repeated.

"Yeah."

"You want to elaborate on that?"

You didn't look up from your work. "Not really."

"But what about Naoya's messed up face?" Maki pressed on.

"Maki, really?" Yuta groaned.

"Please take pictures for me," you said.

"Shh!" another student hissed, reminding you that you were in the middle of anatomy lab.

You sat at your dissection table, scalpel in hand, carefully slicing through the tissue sample in front of you. Beside you, Maki, Toge, and Yuta were similarly engrossed in their own specimens, their brows furrowed in concentration, despite the conversation whispered between you all.

"But I wanna punch him, key his car or whatever," Maki muttered under her breath.

"Feel free," you replied, still focused on your specimen.

"This whole thing was a stupid idea from the start," Yuta grumbled.

"Stupid," Toge concurred sagely.

"Oh, now you think so too, huh?" Yuta said, side-eyeing Toge.

"Anyway, what's up with Dr. Handsome?" Maki asked, redirecting the conversation.

"He's miserable," you said.

"You always say that about him."

"Because it always fits."

Suddenly, you felt an icy chill run down your spine, as if someone had just dropped an ice cube down your back. You didn't need to turn around to know who was standing behind you.

"Are you all quite finished with your chatting, or do you need another minute?"

Slowly, you turned to face your tutor, plastering on your most innocent smile. "Sorry Dr. Nanami, we're done."

"Perhaps you should focus more on your studies than on discussing your personal life. Maybe then you'd actually pass your exams." He gave the others a look that could freeze lava before stalking off.

"Ouch," Toge grimaced. "Brutal."

"He hates me," you sighed.

"Probably because you're so close with Dr. Handsome," Maki said.

"Definitely," Yuta agreed. "But you know, I heard he's not actually that bad. One of the seniors told me he's really supportive of his students, in his own unique way."

"So you're saying he's just pushing me to do better?" you asked, feeling a glimmer of hope.

"Nah, I think he definitely hates you," Yuta said, crushing that hope like a bug. "But hey, at least he's supportive of other students, right?"

"Thanks, Yuta, that's really helpful." You slumped in your seat, feeling like you'd just been punched in the gut. Then, your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

Maki smirked. "Well, speak of the devil."

[10:21 AM] Satoru: Can you come to my office after class? I have something for you.

You read the message, ignoring the few missed calls from your mother that lit up the screen. Pathetic, really. You knew you should call her back. But the wounds were still raw.

Satoru had helped you bridge the gap to her, for a moment, but you couldn't help but feel the old fear of disappointment flare up again, you had been disappointed so many times before. Each disappointment left scars on a heart that was barely able to recognize itself as such.

Satoru had helped you bridge the gap with her, momentarily, but the fear was a constant shadow. You've been let down so many times before, each time leaving scars on a heart that was barely able to recognize itself as such.

You'd call her back later.

Surely.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket.

─── ·✧· ───

After class, you stepped out of the auditorium into the bustling hallway. Maki, Yuta, and Toge fell into step beside you. The hallway was filled with the usual chaos of students rushing to their next classes.

"How about we go to the movies this weekend instead, or to some bar, just anything fun," Maki said. "We could check out that new horror thing everyone's talking about."

Yuta made a face. "A movie sounds good, but I'm not really in the mood for jump scares and gore. I'd rather keep my lunch down."

"What about that action movie that just came out?" you suggested.

"Action," Toge nodded approvingly.

"Sounds good," Yuta said.

"Wow, you people are really boring. But okay, action it is. Maybe we could grab dinner before the movie too," Maki added. "There's that new sushi place that opened up downtown."

"Oh yeah, I heard their food is really good," Yuta said.

"Alright, so it's settled then," Maki said. "Sushi and a movie this weekend."

But then you rounded a corner and stopped dead in your tracks. A cold knot formed in your stomach.

Sukuna.

There he stood, across the hall, leaning casually against the wall, engaged in conversation with some university staff members. Their laughter grated on your ears.

What?

Why was he back?

The ethics committee hearing is not scheduled for another month. Did Satoru know about this?

As if sensing your presence, Sukuna's gaze shifted, his eyes locking with yours. He watched you for a moment, his lips twitching into a slow, predatory smile. Then, he had the audacity to wink at you.

Without a word, you marched toward him, ignoring the bewildered look on the woman he'd been speaking to. Sukuna straightened, one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his tailored suit. His chin tilted up.

"Look who it is," he drawled, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. "My favorite student."

"What are you doing here?"

He smirked, his eyes raking over you in a way that made your skin crawl. "Didn't Dr. Gojo tell you, sweetie?"

You glared at him, your jaw clenched, fighting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face. You didn't care that the entire hallway seemed to hold its breath, every gaze burning into your back. All you could see was him, standing there like he had every right to be here.

Sukuna continued, "I'm back for the ethics committee, of course. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason."

Maki cleared her throat from across the hall, the sound cutting through the tension like a siren. You suddenly became aware of the hushed whispers and curious stares surrounding you.

Lowering your voice, you turned back to him. "Can we have a word?"

Sukuna's smile widened. "In private? With you, always."

He gestured for you to lead the way, and you turned, walking down the suddenly quiet hallway. You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on your back like a thousand tiny needles, the whispers already starting to circulate.

Reaching an empty classroom, you yanked the door open and gestured for him to enter. Sukuna sauntered in, his smirk still in place, as if he found the entire situation amusing. You followed, slamming the door shut behind you.

Turning to face him, you crossed your arms. "Alright, Sukuna. Cut the bullshit. What's your game here?"

He leaned against a nearby desk, his posture relaxed and infuriatingly nonchalant. "No game, sweetie."

"Don't you dare fucking call me that," you snapped.

"Why so fierce? I'm just here to do my job. And ethics lately became so dear to me."

"As if. You're just here to hurt Satoru, that's all you're after."

"Wow, you're losing your temper here a bit, aren't you?" He watched you for a second, then, a harsh laugh echoed through the confined space. "Oh, now I get it. Satoru must be using again, isn't he?

Your blood ran cold at his words, and you took a step forward. "Watch it, Sukuna. I'm warning you."

He pushed off the desk, closing the distance between you until he was mere inches away. "And what then?"

"You know damn well you're responsible for this."

Sukuna leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper, "Oh, I think we both know it's not me who pushes him to the edge."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could even think about what you were doing, your hand was moving. The sound of the slap echoed through the empty classroom, and Sukuna's head snapped to the side from the force of the impact.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Sukuna slowly turned his head back to face you, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk. A trickle of blood slid from the corner of his mouth, and he raised a hand to wipe it away.

"Ha," he said, looking at the blood on his fingertips. "Looks like the kitten has claws." He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, as if savoring the sensation. "You know, it's funny," Sukuna continued, his voice almost conversational. "Satoru always did have a thing for the feisty ones."

"Shut up. You don't know anything about him."

"And you do? I bet you don't even know half of it. Or do you know why he has all those scars? Do you know even the slightest bit about his past? I bet you don't. Because he doesn't trust you. Not like he trusts me." 

He paused, his head tilting slightly to the side as he studied you. "It's almost funny, really. Ever since you two got close, he's been slipping. Losing control. Returning to his old habits. It's almost as if you have a knack for breaking him. Just like his parents."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Feels awful to be the responsible one, doesn't it?"

You flinched, his words twisting the knife of guilt deeper. You wanted to pull away, to deny his accusations, but your body felt frozen in place. Your eyes searched his, desperate for some sign of deception, a hint that this was all a twisted game. But there was none. All you saw was a reflection of your own doubts, your own deepest fears.

"You know he's been stable before you came along, but now he's a mess. It's selfish, really. Clinging to him, dragging him down, all because you're so desperate to be loved. But how will you live with yourself, knowing he died trying to be something he's not, all for you?"

No, you thought. This isn't true. It can't be true.

But even as you tried to escape his accusations, a memory flickered to life. Satoru in that bathroom, his skin pale and clammy, his breathing shallow, the terrifying stillness of his body.

Your eyes began to burn.

"Poor thing." Sukuna's hand cupped your cheek, almost disgustingly gentle, his thumb brushing over your skin. You let it happen, a deer caught in the headlights. "You really are a fool, aren't you?"

His touch seared your skin, branding you with guilt, with shame. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, to scream that he was wrong, that you'd never hurt Satoru, you weren't the reason he overdosed.

You weren't.

You couldn't.

But then again, would that have happened if you weren't there? If you hadn't pushed him, hadn't demanded too much? You tried to speak, to defend yourself. But the words wouldn't come.

He's playing with you.

He's manipulating you.

You know it.

You know it.

You know it.

You know it.

You know it.

You know it.

But why was it so hard to fight back?

You had always been the strong one, the one who held it all together. With your mother's fragile grip on reality, with Satoru's self-destructive spiral, you had been the glue that held the pieces together.

You'd swallowed the bitterness, the fear, the crushing weight of it all, refusing to let it break you. So why the fuck couldn't you hold it together anymore? What was wrong with you?

Sukuna's smile was almost pitiful, his hand falling away from your face as if your touch was repulsive. "You're not good enough for him. You never were. And the sooner you accept that, the better off you'll both be."

With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty classroom, the sting of his touch lingering on your cheek. You scrubbed at the spot, as if you could physically erase the stain of his words.

You didn't want to believe him. You couldn't believe him. But as you stood there, watching him disappear down the hallway, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was right.

Maybe you were the one pushing Satoru to the edge, the one driving him back to the drugs and the self-destruction. And if that was true—

You didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, the air turned thick, suffocating. Your lungs struggled to draw oxygen, each inhale a desperate gasp against the tightening band around your chest. The world swam, blurring at the edges.

You slumped against a nearby student's desk, one hand grasping for support, the other clutching your chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat.

You closed your eyes, fighting for control, willing the panic to subside.

No.

Not now.

Not fucking now.

─── ·✧· ───

You stood rooted to the spot outside Satoru's office, willing your ragged breaths to steady. Sukuna's poisonous words still echoed in your mind. You wanted to push them aside, to focus, to compartmentalize, but they clung to you like a second skin, refusing to be ignored.

You fought the urge to turn and run.

But you couldn't. Not now.

You had to be strong.

Satoru didn't need to see your weakness, not when he was already teetering on the edge. You had to bottle it all up, bury it deep. You took another deep breath, forcing your shaking hands to still.

You can do this. You have to.

With a final, resolute inhale, you knocked on the door.

"Come in," Satoru's voice called from inside.

You stepped into his office, closing the door behind you. Satoru was sitting at his desk, his head bent over a stack of papers, his pen moving swiftly across the pages as he graded. His hair fell into his eyes, obscuring his face.

"You wanted to see me?" you asked.

Satoru didn't look up, his attention still focused on the papers in front of him. "Maybe I just missed you."

"Is that so?" You made your way over to his desk, halting before him, but he still didn't look up, his pen continuing its relentless journey across the page.

"Just a second," he said.

"Sure." You moved to sit on the edge of his desk, tucking your still trembling hands between your crossed legs, hoping to somehow keep them still. Your eyes wandered over the cluttered surface, taking in the stacks of papers, the half-empty coffee cups, the scattered pens.

Chaos. As usual.

Strange, how his chaos always seemed to bring you calm, how it made it easier to breathe, how it always felt like home, how being near him felt like home. You closed your eyes briefly, the trembling in your hands slowly subsiding.

Then, your gaze landed on a folder lying on the edge of his desk, a note scrawled across the front in bold, red letters, "urgent". Curious, you picked it up and flipped it open, your eyebrows rising as you scanned the contents.

"Are you switching your subject?" you asked.

"Huh?"

"This case here," you said, waving the folder. "Failing liver."

Satoru's head snapped up, his eyes widening as he saw the folder in your hands.

"Are you treating liver diseases now?"

Satoru's face paled, his fingers tightening around his pen. "It's an urgent case."

"Urgent?" You eyed the document again, scanning the patient's stats. "That's putting it mildly. Based on these stats, that patient is dying for sure."

"Wow, you're really empathetic for a future doctor."

"I'm just being honest. I don't see how anyone with that liver damage could survive. But the other vitals are pretty impressive for someone in their 50s. Strange." You paused, your eyes meeting his. "But why are you looking into that?"

Satoru leaned back in his chair, his shoulders slumping. "It's Suguru's uncle."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said, suddenly feeling ashamed for your, indeed, lack of sympathy. "I didn't know."

"It's okay." He sighed. "Do you think treatment is even worth considering at this point?"

You looked over the file again, chewing your lip. You wanted to give him hope, to tell him that there was a chance. But you knew, deep down, that it would be a lie.

"No," you said finally. "Based on these stats, there's no way this patient will survive, even with treatment. The liver damage is too extensive, even aggressive treatment would likely only cause unnecessary suffering," your eyes meet his, "It would be cruel to give them false hope."

Satoru let out a shaky breath, nodding. "That's what I thought."

Hindsight, they say, is 20/20.

Looking back, you should have known.

Should have seen it.

Maybe if you had paid more attention, you could have spared yourself the pain. But who can really blame you, between all those battlefields? They turn you blind against what's important.

A lesson learned too late.

You closed the folder. "I'm so sorry, Satoru. If there's anything I can do, anything at all—"

Satoru shook his head. "All good. I didn't want to burden you with that."

"You don't burden me."

Satoru closed his eyes for a moment and then stood up. He rounded the corner and made his way over to his briefcase. He rummaged through it for a moment before pulling something out and tossing it over to you.

You caught it reflexively, your fingers closing around a long, slender plastic pen.

"Strip off your pants," Satoru said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "The leg is best."

You stared at the plastic object in your hand. Turning it around, you read the label on the side.

Erenumab.

"You did not—" you began.

Satoru's lips curved into a small, knowing smile, a smile that never failed to make your stomach flutter. "It's 70 mg," he said. "Let's start with that and see how it goes."

He crossed the room to where you sat, his gaze locked on yours, studying your reaction. You met his eyes, your own wide. You knew that this medicine was rather new. Expensive, if insurance didn't cover it. A single dose cost more than some people earned in a month.

"You didn't have to do this for me," you said.

He smiled. "I told you, I'd do anything for you."

A lump formed in your throat, making it hard to swallow. But before you could fully process what he did for you, you found yourself lying on your back on his office sofa, your pants discarded and Satoru sitting between your thighs. 

With gloved hands, he gently parted your legs, draping one over his shoulder and the other across his lap.

He quickly disinfected a small patch of skin on your thigh, then deftly drew the 70 mg dose from the glass vial. Preparing the syringe, he held it up, carefully expelling any air bubbles.

"I think my arm would have been sufficient too," you said.

His lips curved into a smile. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

Hand steady and sure, he positioned the needle against your skin. You felt a brief, sharp sting as it pierced your flesh, followed by a cool, tingling sensation. And then it was over, the syringe empty and discarded.

Satoru stripped off his gloves and placed a tender kiss near the injection site, his lips soft and warm against your skin. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you said, your gaze fixed on the ceiling above.

Satoru's smile widened. "Good." He released his hold on your leg and rose to his feet to dispose of the empty medication vial.

"See you next month, then," he said, a playful lilt returning to his voice. "For your next dose of preventative migraine medicine. But don't be late. I hate when patients keep me waiting."

"Sorry," you said. "I got held up."

"Something important?"

You hesitated for a moment. "No." Slowly, you sat up, your eyes tracking his movements. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," he replied as he threw away the gloves.

"I'm not going to Naoya's party."

Satoru paused, his gaze meeting yours, a flicker of surprise and relief passing over his features. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," you mirrored back, then stood up and pulled your pants back on.

"Suguru is in the lab right now. You want to join him? I think he's dissecting some cells today," Satoru said, changing the subject.

"Oh, I called him earlier. He said he's pretty much done—" Your words died in your throat as Satoru turned his back to you, a small plastic container clutched in his hand. He shook out a couple of pills into his palm.

One.

Two.

Three.

You should be numb to it by now, but each pill felt like a punch to your gut. He popped them into his mouth and swallowed dry, a practiced motion. Dread tightened in your stomach.

Turning back to face you, he asked, "You want to grab something in the cafeteria then?"

"Sure," you agreed, but your eyes were drawn to the two containers on the shelf beside him. Hydromorphone. You recognized it. But also Alprazolam. Your stomach lurched, the cold knot tightening even more in its pit.

"Since when do you take Alprazolam again?" you asked.

"It's—" His brows drew together. "It's just half a milligram."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I don't think I have to answer your question," he said, cold, dismissive.

Silence.

Why does it always end like this? A tragedy on repeat, forever at war. 

You locked eyes with Satoru, the familiarity of his blue irises suddenly chilling. It was as if a curtain had parted, revealing the same painful scene once again. You were the actress, trapped in a role you couldn't escape.

[SCENE START]

INT. SATORU'S OFFICE - AFTERNOON

SATORU stands opposite of you, his gaze unwavering, a storm brewing beneath his placid mask.

YOU stare back at him, your heart a battlefield of love and fear, poisoned by Sukuna's cruel whispers.

[BEAT]

Act I: Clash of Words

YOU (quiet) So we return to this familiar dance?

SATORU (confused) Return? To what, pray tell?

YOU This game of shadows and silence. You, building walls I cannot breach.

SATORU (dismissive) 'Tis but a trifle, a fleeting shadow.

YOU A trifle? You gamble with your very life, and call it naught but a fleeting shadow?

SATORU (averting his gaze) 'Tis my life—

YOU (interrupting) —to squander? To cast aside as if it holds no worth?

SATORU (voice low) That is not my intent.

YOU (voice trembling) Then speak plainly, Satoru! Unburden your heart, that I may understand the shadows that cloud your judgment.

[BEAT]

Silence reigns, a heavy shroud descends, Unspoken truths, where desperation contends. Sukuna's whispers echo, venom in the air, "He trusts you not, his heart you cannot share."

YOU (quiet) You cannot, can you? For even after all we have shared, you remain a fortress to me.

Satoru remains silent, his face a mask of stone. His eyes, once bright, now clouded and unknown.

[BEAT]

Act II: Aimed at the Heart

YOU (shoulders slumping) When did you plan to tell me of Sukuna's return?

SATORU He concerns you not.

YOU Concerns me not? Satoru, 'tis because of me you face this lawsuit. Sukuna's shadow looms over you because of me. And your solace in those pills, I know, is tied to my very being. How can you claim I am untouched by this?

SATORU (turning his back to you, pacing) 'Tis complicated, you know this well.

YOU Then speak, I implore you. Let me share your burden.

SATORU (stopping, facing you) This is my battle, my burden alone. I shall face it as I see fit.

YOU (desperate) Your way? By drowning in oblivion, feigning a peace that exists not? Silence breeds not tranquility, Satoru, but a tempest within. You wage war against yourself, and these pills offer no salvation.

SATORU (pacing) I know what I do.

YOU And so do I.

[BEAT]

YOU You cannot continue thus, Satoru. How can we speak of love, of a shared future, when you build these walls, shutting me out at every turn? This endless dance of closeness and distance, it tears at my very being.

Satoru averts his gaze, his eyes seek the floor, Each glance denied, a wound that burns and sores.

[BEAT]

Though wisdom whispers, "Push him not, beware," Your love, a stubborn flame, refuses to despair. Did Sukuna's curse unleash this beast within? This monster that destroys, that revels in sin? Trapped within this flesh, you cannot flee, from the darkness that consumes, that will not set you free. Its fangs bite deep, its poison spreads its blight, how can you escape this never-ending night?

YOU (frustrated) Gods above, you test my patience, you try my very soul!

SATORU (whirling around) And you test mine! Your relentless pushing, your ceaseless questions...leave me be! I shall handle this alone.

YOU (stepping closer) Alone? You isolate yourself, Satoru, and call it strength. But it is weakness—

SATORU (shouting) Silence, woman!

[BEAT]

Silence descends, a tomb upon his cruel decree. Your breath, a stolen gasp, a wounded symphony. In his eyes, a mirrored fear, chilling and unkind. His words, heavy with pain, a desperate shield for his mind.

Oh, this dance of despair, this endless, tortured play, One step towards solace, then cruelly snatched away. Two souls adrift, on a sea of crimson hue, Yearning to meet, yet poisoned, their love askew.

Storms rage within, a tempestuous, bloody fight, Armor clings tight, obscuring love's gentle light. Bound by fear's cruel chains, they stand apart, Poised to strike, to rend each other's heart.

If only understanding could pierce the gloom, If only love could blossom, banish fear's cold tomb. But fear, the monster, devours all it sees, A love born in beauty, now twisted by disease.

This battlefield of hearts, forever stained crimson, Unspoken truths, wounds that refuse to glisten. So the waves crash on, their fury unrestrained, A love unspoken, forever pained.

Act III: The Killing Blow

YOU (voice trembling) Is it comfort? This self-destruction, that none may reach you? That I may not?

SATORU (hollowly) Perhaps.

[BEAT]

Your heart, a wounded bird, beats in its cage, But Sukuna's words, a creeping, insidious rage. His lies take root, a darkness you can't deny, And hope's faint ember flickers, threatens to die.

You fight to resist, to break free from its hold, But doubt's cold grip, your spirit grows old. His words, a poison, seep into your veins, And the will to fight, it slowly wanes.

YOU (quiet) Do I bring you sickness?

SATORU I know not. The line between you and my sanity grows thin, fading fast, I fear.

[BEAT]

His words, a poisoned dart, strike true. You know their source, the scars he hides from view. You strain to remember joy's embrace, but pain's dark shroud obscures its face. How long, oh heart, can you endure, this torment, this love that's no longer pure? You turn away, a heart filled with lead, from pain too deep, words left unsaid.

YOU (voice thick with sorrow) 'Tis an ugly thing, to be truly seen.

[FADE OUT]

[BLACKOUT]

VOICEOVER (detached, critical) The playwright weeps, the actors take their bows. But empty seats, no cheers, the silence grows. A cruel hush descends, the play is done. Was the bloodletting to your liking, everyone?

[SCENE END]

─── ·✧· ───

"Suguru?"

You approached him cautiously, hesitant to intrude on his concentration. He sat across the lab, his tall frame hunched over a workbench, bathed in the dim glow of a lamp beside him. He manipulated a pipette, transferring liquids between vials with a steady hand.

"Hey," he said, his gaze still fixed on his task. "Didn't expect you here today. Sorry, the fun part's already over."

He completed the transfer, then turned to face you. Even in the dim light of the lab, the aftermath of the fight was etched on your face, impossible to hide — the tear tracks, the trembling jaw, the desperate attempt at composure that crumbled with each passing second.

Suguru studied you for a long moment. He didn't need to ask. He knew you well enough to know what was going on. Yeah, how ugly it is to be truly seen.

"What happened?" He asked.

You stood beside his workbench, chewing on your lip, your arms crossed over your chest, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we work on something?" you said. "Please."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You shook your head. "No. I can't. I need work...I need to focus on something, anything, or I think I'll fall apart."

The words spilled out. There was no point in pretending, not with him. His gaze had already seen through your facade. But it felt wrong. It felt so wrong to ask him for help, to use his feelings for you.

You knew he wouldn't deny you, not when you were unraveling before his eyes. The guilt of relying on him like this was a heavy weight in your chest. But you needed him right now.

Who else could you turn to? You couldn't tell your friends. Your mother was in her own world of grief. Your father was dead. You were alone. Utterly and completely alone.

"Please, Suguru. Can we just work?"

He hesitated, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before he finally nodded and peeled off his gloves. He leaned forward, his hand gently undoing the tight knot of your crossed arms. He took your hand in his, tracing shooting lines across the back of your hand.

"What do you want to work on?" he asked.

"The nanoparticles," you said, your voice still trembling. "We still need to narrow down the potential materials and targeting ligands, right?"

"Sure," he said with a strained smile. "Anything you want."

─── ·✧· ───

Days had turned into a blur since then.

Satoru tried to reach you — missed calls, unanswered texts, a voicemail you'd deleted without listening. It was only a matter of time before he showed up at your door, you thought. But nothing. He stopped. Perhaps you should be worried.

But you needed some distance, needed a little breather.

Suguru said he was okay.

You'd sneak into the lab late at night, working until exhaustion dragged you under, then slipping away before daylight could expose you to the world, to your friends — to him.

You'd lied to your friends, a simple "I've got the flu" a convenient excuse to ward off their concern.

But somehow, your apartment felt so empty tonight. Empty takeout containers littered the floor, appetite long lost.

The last rays of sunlight struggled through the blinds, casting long shadows that glided across the walls, reminding you of the passage of time, of the life you were slowly losing control of.

You twisted and turned in your bed, sheets tangled around your legs. Your head throbbed with thoughts you didn't want to have — uninvited, lingering, persistent, intrusive, haunting, gnawing, relentless, agonizing, piercing, suffocating, venomous, tormenting, cruel, accusatory, self-recriminating, maddening — devouring your skull.

Each thought was a fresh wound. His anger. His fear. His desperation. How could you move on? How could you ever mend this?

You'd already compromised so much, given up so much, to turn yourself into someone he could love without tearing himself to pieces. But how much more could you sacrifice before there was nothing left of you, before you became a stranger, before it became some kind of murder?

You squeezed your eyes shut.

You were in an uneasy sleep when a sharp, acrid smell assaulted you, jolting you awake with a violent gasp. Your eyes flew open, blinking rapidly in the dark. Suddenly, your eyes began to water. Your throat burned.

You coughed, your body convulsing as you struggled to breathe. But the air was thick, almost suffocating you with every breath. Through your sleepy haze, it hit you like a lightning bolt.

Smoke.

Thick, dark smoke filled your apartment, obscuring everything in a suffocating nightmare. Adrenaline surged through your veins. You sat upright in bed, your hand flying to cover your mouth and nose with your shirt.

Squinting through the dense fumes, you tried to figure out what was going on, but the haze made it impossible to see anything clearly.

Fuck.

Fuck.

What the hell happened?

A second later, the fire alarm screamed to life, its shrill, ear-splitting wail instantly snapping you out of any remaining sleep.

You needed to get out. Now.

You leapt out of bed, your bare feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. Your hand shot out, grasping for the oversized sweater that lay forgotten at the end of the bed. You yanked it over your head, the fabric covering your thin top.

Stumbling towards the door, you coughed on the smoke that grew thicker, its tendrils clawing at your throat and lungs. You flung open the door, only to be met by a wall of dense, black smoke billowing up the stairwell.

Mrs. Tanaka.

Your elderly neighbor.

The smoke was coming from her apartment, and the realization sent a cold fear straight through your heart.

Covering your mouth and nose with your sleeve, you raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The smoke grew thicker with each step, stinging your eyes and making it nearly impossible to breathe.

By the time you reached Mrs. Tanaka's door, you were wheezing and lightheaded, your lungs screaming for clean air.

"Mrs. Tanaka!" you shouted, your voice raw and desperate as you pounded on her door with all the strength you could muster. "Mrs. Tanaka, are you in there? There's a fire!"

Silence. No response.

With your heart pounding, you were about to try the door handle when a voice from below cut through the chaos.

"Is anyone still up there?" a neighbor from the floor below shouted up the stairwell.

"Yes!" you yelled back. "Mrs. Tanaka is still inside! Call the firefighters!"

You didn't wait for a response. You turned back to the door, your hand closing around the scorching metal handle. To your surprise, it turned easily, and the door swung open to reveal a wall of darkness.

Without thinking, you plunged into the apartment, the thick smoke wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The heat was intense, searing your skin and making it almost impossible to breathe. Squinting through the haze, you tried to get your bearings, your hand groping along the wall for guidance.

The smoke seemed to be coming from the kitchen, the acrid stench of burning wood and melting plastic stinging your senses. You stumbled forward, making your way deeper into the apartment.

"Mrs. Tanaka!" you called out. "Mrs. Tanaka, are you here?"

But there was no response, just the ominous crackling of the fire and the groaning of the building's structure under the onslaught of the flames.

With each step, the smoke grew thicker, the darkness more absolute. Your lungs burned, every breath a struggle as the toxic fumes filled your airways. Your head began to swim.

You needed to get out.

You tried to find your way back, but your body was failing you. Your lungs screamed for air, the searing pain tearing through your chest like a thousand razor blades. Your vision blurred, the edges of the room fading into a hazy, indistinct mess.

Somehow, you managed to stumble your way back to the door, your hand groping blindly for the doorknob. With a desperate twist, you flung the door open and staggered out into the hallway, gulping in the marginally cleaner air.

But it was too late. The damage had been done.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, your legs gave out beneath you. You crashed to the floor, your knees slamming against the hard surface. The impact knocked the wind out of you, leaving you gasping and disoriented.

You hastily covered your mouth and nose again, but it was futile. Too much smoke. There was already too much smoke in your lungs.

You felt your consciousness slipping away, no matter how hard you pressed your hand against your face. Your other hand clawed at the floor, trying to find purchase, trying to keep yourself upright. But it was a losing battle.

Stupid.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Why did you go in here? What the hell were you thinking?

Desperation clawed at your very being as you looked up and down the hallway, your vision growing dimmer by the second. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut — you might not make it out of this building alive.

Fuck.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Why were you so stupid? Why couldn't you think straight anymore?

Through the haze of your fading consciousness, you thought you heard the distant wail of sirens, the shouts of firefighters. But they seemed so far away.

As the darkness closed in, you coughed violently, your body trying to expel the noxious fumes. Your head hung low as you struggled to draw even the tiniest breath. But there was no oxygen left.

Then, the blackness claimed you, and you knew no more.

─── ·✧· ───

"Breathe in and out for me, please."

The young doctor instructed, his voice wavering slightly. Even through the dull ache of your headache and the fog of medication, you could feel his fingertips trembling against the bare skin of your back.

You did as instructed, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it.

The doctor moved the stethoscope, the cool metal pressing against a different spot on your back. You couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be placing it a bit off. But you were too weary to care.

"And again, please."

You inhaled, the air burning in your lungs. Before you could exhale, a familiar voice roared down the corridor, slicing through the quiet of the hospital. For a brief moment, you wondered if it might have been better to have died in the flames.

"I don't care about your damn protocols!" Satoru's enraged voice tore through the hospital, undoubtedly terrorizing some poor soul. "You have to fucking call me immediately when something like this happens, you understand?!"

Moments later, Satoru burst into the room, a frazzled-looking nurse trailing behind him. The look on her face mirrored your own desire to simply vanish into thin air.

"We had to wait until—" she tried to explain, but Satoru's attention was already on you, the nurse's presence instantly forgotten. He froze, the color draining from his face as he took in the sight of you sitting in the hospital bed, battered and weak.

"I think we're done here. Thank you," you said cautiously to the doctor beside you, bracing yourself for the inevitable scene Satoru was about to make. You pulled away from the young doctor, who remained silent, seemingly paralyzed by Satoru's sudden appearance.

In a heartbeat, Satoru was at your side, nearly pushing the doctor out of his way in his desperation to reach you. He cradled your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. The sudden movement sent another wave of pain through your head.

"Easy," you winced.

"Sorry." His hands frantically traced the contours of your face, as if to convince himself you were real. "How are you? Are you okay?"

You managed a weak smile. "I'm fine, Satoru. No need to worry."

A small, relieved smile tugged at his lips as he took in the sight of you, alive and breathing. His expression softened before he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. "Don't scare me like that."

The young doctor, who had been silently watching the exchange, finally found his voice. "Excuse me, sir, but who are you? I'm going to have to ask you to step back and let me continue—"

Wrong move.

For someone so hesitant during the examination, he certainly had guts.

Satoru's head snapped towards the doctor, his eyes blazing with a fury that made the poor man visibly shudder. Before he could unleash his wrath, the nurse jumped in, perhaps sensing the impending disaster.

"He's her husband," she stated matter-of-factly.

Ha?

Husband?

The word cut through your pain and nausea like a blade. "We're not married," you quickly clarified.

"But, what?" the nurse stepped forward. "Sir, you can't be in here then. Hospital policy—"

"I am her husband," Satoru insisted.

"Since when?" you demanded.

Satoru's grip on your face tightened ever so slightly. He looked like he wanted to kill you right after he was done with the other two poor souls in the room.

With a harsh exhale, he snatched the clipboard from the now ghostly pale doctor standing beside him. Flipping it open, he scanned the documents quickly. His jaw clenched with each passing second.

"There's no record of inspecting her throat for signs of soot," he stated.

"I am, uh—" the doctor stammered. "I'm not finished with—"

Satoru turned to him, his eyes narrowing. "Did you not check?"

"Oh, I—" the doctor stuttered, looking like he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Poor guy.

"It's the first thing you check, goddamn it. Did you win your fucking medical degree in a lottery?"

"Satoru—," you began, trying to intervene, but he cut you off.

"Leave us alone," he commanded, his attention snapping back to the nurse and the doctor, who stood frozen in place, their faces sheet-white.

"We can't let you be here if you're not related—" the nurse tried to argue, her voice shaking, but Satoru silenced her with a look that could have frozen hell itself.

"I swear to god, I'll buy this goddamn second-rate hospital and have you all fired if you don't leave us alone. Now."

The nurse and the doctor exchanged a terrified glance. You turned to the young doctor, who looked like he was about to faint, and whispered, "I'm so sorry, my husband can be a bit harsh sometimes. It's okay, you can go."

Your words seemed to break the spell, and they practically tripped over each other in their haste to escape, the door slamming shut behind them with a loud bang. You couldn't blame them.

Satoru could turn really ugly. But then again, so could you.

"You know, you should try being a little nicer to people," you began. "He's just a young resident."

He scoffed. "You say that like you're not a med student yourself."

He turned to you then, his eyes softening just a fraction as they met yours. But the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. You looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since he'd burst into the room.

He was wearing sweatpants and a rumpled, slightly oversized white Oxford shirt that was buttoned wrong, as if he'd thrown it on in a hurry. His hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Then you spotted a faint crimson stain blossoming beneath the fabric of his shirt on his upper arm. Your stomach twisted with the familiar dread. He'd been scratching again.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly.

He blinked at you. "Am I okay? You're the one lying in a hospital bed after running into a burning apartment, and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

"That's not an answer."

He moved to your bedside, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat down next to you. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the fury that had consumed him mere seconds ago. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, really," you said, leaving out the burns. "Besides, I checked myself over."

He arched an eyebrow. "You checked your own airways?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. I should've known," he mused, a weak smile ghosting across his lips. "But seriously, what happened?"

"How did you even know I was here in the first place?"

"I have an alert on you. In every hospital in this country," he said without hesitation, his tone matter-of-fact, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You—what? You're joking, right?"

"Dead serious." His gaze hardened. "Now, tell me what happened."

"Whoa, hold up, we're not done with this," you interjected. "You have an alert on me? What does that even mean? Is that why the nurse thought you were my husband?"

"It's only for relatives." He shrugged. "Had to tweak your medical records a bit. Technically, we're married now, at least as far as your health insurance is concerned."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"What? Is the idea of marrying me still such a strange concept to you?"

"Satoru, there are boundaries, you know?"

"Boundaries? With you? I didn't think we ever had those." He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours. "Besides, if we were actually married, I wouldn't need to do that, would I?"

"You're delusional."

"Always for you."

"I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, his shoulders slumping. His hand fell away from your face, leaving your skin cold and bereft. "Anyway, now tell me what happened."

You stared at him for a moment longer. Then, with a heavy sigh, you recounted the events that had led you here.

How you had noticed the smoke and how you rushed into the apartment, how the firefighters had gotten you out of there, or at least that's what they told you, as you had no memory of that. How, thankfully, Mrs. Tanaka was not in her apartment and was doing fine.

She was with her granddaughter and had forgotten the food she had left in the oven. Talk about dementia, huh?

When you finished, you waited for the anger, for the lecture on how stupid it was to run into a burning apartment, how reckless and irresponsible you'd been. But it never came. Instead, Satoru remained silent, so uncharacteristically silent that it almost scared you.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" he finally whispered, his voice so soft, so broken, so desperate that it nearly shattered your heart. "I can't lose you. Not you."

Don't.

Don't say that.

Don't say you need me.

You wanted to be angry, to scream at him for loving you, for letting you be the reason for his pain, the source of that crimson stain that now seeped across his sleeve, drenching the entire shirt until it was nothing but a bloody red.

But how could you be angry when he stood before you, so vulnerable and broken? How could you deny the executioner the willing blood, the scars he carved into his own flesh with the blade that is your love?

You bleed together after all, beautifully, tragically.

"I'm sorry," you breathed.

He leaned in, his lips a fleeting caress against your forehead, the touch so gentle, so reverent, that you drew in a shuddering breath. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering closed.

"I was so terrified." He shook his head slightly, still resting against you, his eyes squeezed shut as if to block out the memory. "So fucking terrified."

"I'm sorry, Satoru." Your hand came to rest on his chest, finding purchase in his shirt, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm, willing it to slow down. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You're so stupid sometimes, you know that?"

"Always for you," you echoed.

He laughed, the sound weak and watery, but still so achingly familiar, so uniquely Satoru. He leaned in closer still. His lips ghosted over yours, the touch so light, so fleeting, that for a moment, you wondered if you had imagined it. But then you felt it again, the barest brush of skin against skin.

His hand wound around your waist, pulling you close to him, your bodies molded together like two halves of a whole. You inhaled sharply, fighting against the pain, your mouth open and hovering before his.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he held himself rigid and still, as if it took every ounce of self-control not to close the distance between you, to claim your lips with his own.

And god, how you wanted him to give in.

How you longed for the feel of his mouth on yours, for the taste of him on your tongue, for the heat of his touch branding your skin until it melted away, exposing the raw bones that ached for him beneath.

But then, he pulled away. "You feel good enough to leave?"

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly constricted. "Yes."

"Then let's go home."

─── ·✧· ───

You stood in the doorway of your apartment, your hand frozen on the knob, your eyes unblinking as you took in the scene before you.

Black.

So much black.

Nothingless.

Ashes.

Your space was now a charred, smoky ruin, the walls blackened with soot, the furniture reduced to piles of ash and twisted metal. Yes, you hadn't fully unpacked, even months after moving here.

But still.

It was your place. Small and cozy and messy. Just yours.

Satoru stood beside you, waiting. "Are you okay?"

You didn't answer, couldn't answer, your throat tight, your tongue useless. Instead, you took a step forward, then another, your feet moving of their own.

The living room was a wasteland, the couch a blackened, smoking husk, the bookshelves reduced to piles of charred kindling. The kitchen was even worse, the appliances melted and twisted, the cabinets nothing more than gaping, empty holes in the wall.

You moved through the space like a ghost, your fingers trailing over the ruined surfaces, your eyes taking in every detail, every bit of damage, every lost and destroyed possession.

Satoru followed close behind. He didn't speak. He simply stayed by your side, his eyes never straying from you. "You shouldn't be in here for too long. Your lungs are still strained."

"I know." Your gaze remained fixed on the wreckage before you. "I didn't even fully unpack, you know." You turned to him, your lips twisting into a wry smile. "Can you believe that?"

He didn't say anything, his jaw tightening, his eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn't quite name. He probably knew, deep down, that he was partly responsible for this, that his presence in your life, his constant pushing and pulling, had kept you from truly settling, from making this place your own.

Ironic, isn't it?

Somehow all seemed to be stuck until it went up in flames. As if the grand scheme of things had something against you.

How should you really feel about this? Bitter? Sad? Neither emotion seemed fitting at that moment. It's not like there's a manual on how to react when your apartment burns down, right?

You should be crying. You should be mourning every burned photograph, every cherished book turned to ash. But there was nothing. Just this strange detachment. As if your brain decided it was too much and simply flipped a switch and shut down.

You'd almost laugh at how strangely indifferent you felt to your life going up in flames, if it wasn't so terrifying. As if his mere existence in your life overrode everything else.

"Funny, isn't it?"

"What? Your apartment burning down?" he asked. "No. Not really."

You turned to him. "Wow, someone's killing the mood." You turned away, your eyes sweeping over the ruined apartment once more. "But it's ironic."

"What?"

"This," you gestured around you, "this whole fucking mess, the back and forth, the never fully in, never fully out. And now, here we are, standing in the ashes of everything I've ever owned, and all I can think about is... is you. Why are you taking sedatives again? Why didn't you tell me?" You let out a hollow laugh. "It's messed up, isn't it? I don't think this is how it's supposed to be."

Satoru didn't say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you. And to be fair, you couldn't blame him for not having the words. What could anyone say in a situation like this, when everything felt so absurd?

"Sorry," you said. "It's the painkillers."

Walking away from him, your gaze settled on the charred remains of your bed. You crouched down and reached underneath, your fingers searching for something hidden, something precious.

"Can you help me out for a sec?" you asked, your voice strained with the effort of reaching into the ashy depths.

"What are you—"

"Move it to the side."

He didn't hesitate, his strong hands gripping the scorched headboard and effortlessly shoving it away. You reached further, coughing as the ashes swirled up around you. And there, tucked away in the darkness, your fingers finally brushed against something solid, something familiar.

You pulled out the steely box and flipped open the lid. A heavy breath left your lips. Untouched by the flames, thank god. Turning to Satoru, you held up the box. He loomed over you, one hand braced against the headboard, his brow furrowed.

"Kafka," you said with a smile, and he looked at you like you might have lost your mind.

"You should come stay with me," he said. "At least for now."

"No," you said, your voice flat and final as you stood up, your eyes already scanning the room for anything else that might have survived the fire. You clutched the book to your chest, afraid that if you let it go for even a second, it too would crumble to ashes.

"No?" he asked.

"We both know why this won't work."

"Where else are you planning to go then?"

"I don't know." You shrugged. "Maki's, Yuta's. A hotel. I'll figure something out."

"Don't be stupid," Satoru said, his patience wearing thin. "You know it's only—"

"Rational?" you cut him off, turning around to face him. "Don't you dare lecture me on rationality, Professor. Not you. There's nothing rational about this. About us."

He closed the distance between you in two quick strides. "Listen, we can either stand here and argue about this, or you can just come with me. Either way, you know I'm not going to back down."

"It's funny, isn't it? You never back down, but the second I do the same, you shut me out. Like you're the only one allowed to care. Pretty hypocritical, don't you think?"

Satoru's eyes flashed with anger. "You think this is easy for me?"

"Easy to hurt me? Apparently."

"That's not what this is. That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Isn't it though? Because that's exactly how it feels."

"I know you're hurting," he pleaded, his voice softening. "But please, don't be so stubborn."

"I'm sorry that I'm so difficult. Maybe you should just tell me to shut up again? Maybe if you say it often enough, it'll finally sink in. I'll keep quiet, pretend like everything's fine. And I'll just sit back and wait until I find you overdosed again, but this time I'm too late, and I have to watch you die. Is that what you want? I think you should take more Xanax then, speed up the process."

You held your breath, a shard of ice lodged in your throat. You turned away, unable to face the hurt you knew you'd see in his eyes. How ugly one can become when stripped bare.

Maybe you were not good for him after all. Because your words were weapons, sharpened to a deadly point, and you wielded them with precision if you wanted to.

But there was no escape from this hell. No running away, no hiding from the truth that lay between you, spilled out like guts on the floor. It couldn't be stopped, couldn't be contained. It drew you in deeper, pulling you under, until you were both drowning.

Your father always said that a gentle soul was one who experienced pain but spared others from feeling it. But he never told you how fucking hard that would be.

"Can we just... Can we stop this, just for a second?" Satoru asked quietly.

And in that moment, amidst the wreckage of your apartment, surrounded by the ashes of your old life, you realized you couldn't do this anymore. The altar was soaked. The execution was done. But the blood was on your hands.

"Okay," you said. "Let's go home."

─── ·✧· ───

Satoru's living room was painfully familiar.

But also horrifying.

You'd been here before, after you'd been drugged by your own carelessness—headless after you'd found out about his addiction. And you've been here before, when you fought with him to get clean—been here to find him half-dead after nearly overdosing.

Lifeless and barely breathing.

And now you were here again.

Satoru had fallen back into addiction, and you? Somehow, you felt like you didn't know who you were anymore, your identity bleeding from open wounds onto the already soaked carpet below.

Horrifying, indeed.

But it was your new home from now on. But it didn't feel like a home. Not after what had happened.

You made your way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, you filled it with water. At least the move had been quick. No packing required when all your belongings had gone up in flames.

Small mercies, you supposed.

"I'm sorry to leave you alone so soon." Satoru's voice. His footsteps behind you made you turn, and you saw him emerging from the bedroom. "I can't skip this lecture, but I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

You nodded, watching as he adjusted his watch on his wrist. He was dressed in his signature professorial attire — a crisp white shirt and tailored slacks, paired with a slightly askew tie.

He looked up then. "Will you be okay here on your own?"

You managed a weak smile, setting your glass down on the counter. "I'm fine, Satoru. You don't have to ask me that every five minutes."

"But how can I not?" he said softly.

You closed your eyes for a moment, the memory of his hurt gaze stinging. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to him. "Really, I'm fine." You reached up to straighten his tie, your fingers lingering on the smooth silk. "You really suck at this, you know."

His hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs tracing circles through the thin fabric of your shirt. "Good thing you're here now, right? Making sure I look presentable."

"At least one thing I'm good at," you said, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

His fingers twitched against your hips, and you instantly regretted letting your resentment slip out yet again. It wasn't him you were angry with, you desperately needed to remind yourself of that.

But the frustration, the fear, the sheer exhaustion of holding it all together was building to a breaking point. Each fight felt like another chip off an already fragile foundation, and you were terrified of what would happen when there was nothing left.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, gazing up at him. You forced a smile, hoping to ease the worry etched on his face. "You need to get to the university."

"I know." His arms tightened around you, drawing you impossibly closer, as if he could mend everything standing between you if only he held you tightly enough. "Just a moment longer, love," he pleaded, his voice a ragged whisper against your hair. "I... I thought I lost you."

"Okay," you breathed, melting into his embrace and resting your head against his heart. He held you close, the pressure against your burns sending a sharp sting through your body.

Time seemed to still as you stood there, entwined in each other's arms, the rest of the world fading away until there was nothing but this—this quiet, fleeting moment suspended between the next battle, a calm before yet another storm, of that you were sure.

Reluctantly, Satoru pulled back, reaching for his wallet. He retrieved a sleek black credit card and held it out to you. "The pin is 2947," he said. "The daily limit is one thousand, but I can increase it if you need more. I don't have much food in the house right now, you may need to order some."

You stared at the card, then back at him. "Satoru, I have my own money. You don't have to—"

"I know," he interrupted. "But please, do me the favor. Besides, I'll be eating the food too, right? So really, it's for both of us."

Something in his eyes silenced your objection. "Okay," you said, your fingers closing around the card.

"Oh, and here." He fished out his keys, holding them out to you. "I can get another set made later—"

"No, I—," you said, "I still have your keys." You met his gaze. "You said I should keep them. So I kept them."

A faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Now go, before you'll be really late," you added.

He reached out then, threading his fingers through your hair and gently pulling you close once more. He placed a tender kiss on top of your head before stepping back. You watched as he grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door.

And just like that, he was gone.

The sound of the door closing behind him echoed through the suddenly too-quiet, too-spacious, and too-unfamiliar apartment.

Running a hand through your hair, your fingers caught on a few stray strands still holding traces of ash from the fire. You desperately needed a shower.

You made your way to the bathroom. As you pushed open the door, a wave of nausea slammed into you, doubling you over. Vivid and unmerciful memories clawed their way to the surface — Satoru on the cold tile floor, his face ashen, his body still as death.

Staggering back, you gripped the doorframe for support, fighting the bile that scorched your throat. The image was seared into your brain, a permanent scar that refused to fade. You closed the door, shutting out the painful memory.

You took a deep breath.

Yeah, taking a shower would definitely be a challenge.

─── ·✧· ───

You couldn't.

You tried but you simply couldn't.

How pathetic is that?

You were not even able to take a shower.

In the end, you settled for somehow washing yourself with a damp cloth in the kitchen and bandaging your burns. It was the best you could manage.

You knew you needed to eat something, but hunger was nowhere to be found, so you figured if you'd order a lot of different things maybe something will wander into your stomach, or so you thought.

When the takeaway finally arrived, you sat at the table and eyed the various containers and dishes. One leg up on the chair, knee drawn to your chest.

No hunger.

Nothing.

Satoru would be home soon anyway, he sure was hungry. Strange how you knew that, even now. How strangely, intimately familiar you were with his schedule.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. And all you could do was sit and wait until you felt like yourself again. But somehow, you couldn't get your mind out of that bathroom. His lifeless form, the cold tile beneath him. It was seared into your brain.

You couldn't shake the sickening feeling of helplessness that had engulfed you in that moment, the realization that no matter how desperately you wanted to, you were powerless to save him.

It was a feeling you knew all too well, an awful feeling that had taken root in your chest the day your father died. You had been just a child then, too young to understand the finality of death, too small to do anything.

For years, you had clung to the belief that if only you had been older, if only you had been stronger, you could have saved him.

But maybe that was not the truth.

Maybe it wasn't about being a child at all. Maybe there was something inherently wrong with you. Maybe Sukuna was right.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm light through the apartment windows, you heard the familiar sound of keys clicking in the lock before shortly Satoru stepped through the door.

He paused, his eyes widening as he took in the array of takeaway containers scattered across the table. A playful grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he turned to you, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "Is that all for me, or did you invite some friends over?"

You returned his smile. "I figured you'd be hungry."

Satoru chuckled, his laughter a welcome break from the unbearable silence that had filled the apartment in his absence. "Someone sure was hungry." He placed his briefcase and keys on the side table, the familiar routine bringing a sense of normalcy to the otherwise surreal situation. "How are you feeling?"

He crossed the room to where you sat, his hand coming to rest gently on the back of your head. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment before he made his way to the kitchen. The sound of the fridge opening reached your ears, followed by the crackle of a water bottle being unsealed.

"I'm fine." You turned your head to watch him, your eyes following the line of his throat as he took a long swig. "How was your day?"

He suddenly stopped, nearly choking on his water. "Did you just ask me how my day was?"

"Is that so strange?"

"No, I—" he blinked, a smile tugging at his lips. "I like that."

"Domestic, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he mused, his gaze softening. "I could get used to that."

You remained silent for a second longer, before Satoru broke the spell, gesturing towards the table with a tilt of his head. "You really went all out, didn't you?"

You shrugged. "I guess I got a bit carried away. I couldn't decide what I wanted, so I just ordered a little bit of everything."

Satoru returned to the table, settling into the chair opposite you, his eyes roaming over the vast array of dishes you'd ordered. Reaching for a container, Satoru popped it open and inhaled deeply. "Well, you certainly made good use of that credit card."

"Maybe you should consider upping the limit, after all."

Satoru grinned. "That's no problem, love. Anything for you."

He broke apart a pair of wooden chopsticks and started to eat, but halted just a second later, his gaze falling on the perfectly arranged food before him. "You didn't eat anything."

"I did," you said.

"Don't lie to me."

You paused. "It's not like I didn't try."

He exhaled heavily, then set the chopsticks down and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving your face.

"That shouldn't stop you from eating. You must be hungry," you added.

"It's okay. I ate at the university."

His gaze held you captive, those impossibly blue eyes now soft and unguarded, filled with a yearning that made your heart ache. It was a look that had become so familiar, a look that filled your heart as much as it fueled your fear.

But you weren't sure you could bear it anymore.

The constant worry, the sleepless nights, the fear of finding him lifeless on the bathroom floor—it was all too much. Every moment spent with him was a delicate dance on the edge of a knife, never knowing when the blade might slip and cut you both to the bone.

"Don't look at me like that," you whispered.

"Like what?"

"You know what I mean."

"No," he shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Say it."

"Because it makes it easier?"

"It hurts better coming from your lips."

"And you need that?"

"Anything you give me, yes."

You tore your gaze away from his, unable to bear the blue of his eyes any longer. "I can't do this, Satoru." You stood up and started pacing the room, turning away from him.

"Then tell me," he started, his voice laced with desperation, "what do you want me to do? You want me sober, fine, I'm trying, even when it feels like it's killing me. You want me to keep my distance, okay, I'll try, even if it rips me apart. I'm yours, so just tell me what you want, and I'll do it. I'm at your mercy!"

You shook your head, refusing to look at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. "You don't understand."

He stood up, his hands slamming down on the table. "Then make me understand!"

"I live in constant fear, Satoru." You spun around to face him, your eyes burning. "And I don't think I can do this anymore. This fear, it's turning me into someone I don't even recognize anymore." The words poured out of you, a flood of pain and frustration you couldn't hold back any longer. "I try so hard not to be anxious all the time, but I can't trust you, Satoru. Not your actions, not your words. I can't even trust that you'll tell me the important things. I can't trust you when you say you love me, and I definitely can't trust you when you say you've got it under control, while you're taking more and more pills like it's nothing. How can I trust that you won't take it too far? That I won't have to plan my speech for your fucking funeral?"

Not again.

Not again you would ever want to see his body so still.

You took a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper. "And I can't shake this feeling... that it's all my fault."

"What?" His gaze softened, confusion etched on his face. "Why would you think that?"

"You said it yourself. I'm pushing you."

"That's not—I didn't—" he started, but stopped, realizing he had indeed said those words. "Is that why you won't let me help you?"

"There's comfort in self-destruction, isn't there?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Because I would have to be an addict first, to know?" you said, the question a knife, twisting, cutting, drawing blood.

He was silent.

And you were done. Empty. A shell of the person you once were. It was unfair, and you hated yourself for it, for letting the venom spill from your lips, for hurting the one person who didn't deserve it.

But you were at your limit.

The love you had for him, the love he had for you, it was a malignant growth, metastasizing, consuming, destroying everything in its wake. It was a sickness with no cure. No treatment. No hope for remission.

Symptom and cause, all at once.

And in that moment, standing there, your heart splintering with each passing second, one truth burned with cruel clarity. His sobriety, his chance at a future, was eating him from the inside out.

But the other truth, the one that clawed at your insides, was that you might not be strong enough to survive it either. If he couldn't break free, if he couldn't stop — you'd be the one left to bury him.

It was a fear that gnawed at you, a constant, aching presence that made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to imagine a future where you both made it out alive.

You loved him with a fierce, irrational intensity, but could you be strong enough to stay by his side and watch him slowly kill himself? To be his executioner or his mourner?

"What did Sukuna say to you, love?" he asked suddenly, so softly.

"Nothing." You averted your gaze, the lie heavy on your tongue. "I didn't talk to him."

"Don't lie to me. Something's wrong. What is it?"

You met his gaze. "What's the reason you're back on the sedatives?"

Satoru's shoulders slumped, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He sank onto the chair, elbows digging into the table as he scrubbed his hands over his face, then raked them through his hair.

A tense silence hung in the air. Finally, he raised his head, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts.

He couldn't tell you. Didn't trust you enough.

You turned away, unable to bear the weight of his silence. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you gripped the edge until your knuckles turned white. As you shifted, the button-down shirt you'd borrowed from him rode up, exposing the red marks on your thighs.

Satoru's reaction was immediate. His chair clattered to the floor as he surged to his feet, crossing the distance between you in a heartbeat, his fingers hovering over the burns. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing." You braced your hands against the counter behind you, trying to create some distance.

"This isn't nothing." His voice was strained, his hands trembling as he pushed the fabric higher, revealing more of the patchwork of pain that crawled up your leg. Before he could uncover more, your hand closed around his wrist.

"It's okay. I took care of it," you said.

His eyes locked onto yours, their intensity silencing your protests. You let go of his hand. Gently, he pushed your shirt higher, his touch feather-light as he traced the red burns on your thighs.

His brows furrowed with each new discovery, the marks growing angrier, deeper, until he reached the hastily applied bandage at your waist. You could practically feel the question in his touch.

"Satoru, stop. It's—"

But it was too late. He quickly undid the bandages, ignoring your protests. The bandage fell away, revealing the ugly truth beneath.

"You have second-degree burns on your waist," he said.

"First degree," you tried to play it down. "Don't be dramatic."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"It doesn't matter." You looked away. "They'll heal."

Satoru's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He stumbled back a step, turned away from you, and raked his hands through his hair, yanking at the strands with a guttural growl of frustration.

The tension in the room was unbearable, you knew he was only one stupid word away from snapping. He started pacing the length of the kitchen like a caged animal. You watched him, your heart strangely calm.

He slammed his fists against the counter opposite you, his head bowed. "You infuriating woman!" The words were barely out before his fist connected with the wood again, the impact sending a tremor through the room, leaving a visible dent.

You didn't flinch. You knew his anger wasn't directed at you, but at the situation, at the unfairness of it all, at the helplessness that threatened to consume you both. You knew that. You felt it too.

He slumped over the counter once more, his head buried in his hands, his fingers tearing at his hair. You were sure he was pulling out strands, his shoulders heaving with each ragged breath.

When he finally turned back to you, his eyes were carefully blank, a mask over the storm raging within.

He crossed the room, his body crowding yours against the counter. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the delicate skin beneath your eye.

"It matters to me," he whispered. His other hand settled on your hip, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, which you had also borrowed, to trace the edge of the bandage. "You matter to me."

His touch was feather-light, despite the tension that still shimmered through every line of his body. "I'll change that bandage." It wasn't a question, but a statement of intent. You nodded.

You perched on the kitchen counter, holding your shirt up to your chest. Satoru stepped between your legs. You shivered as his fingers brushed against your skin, carefully peeling away the old bandage, the fabric sticking to the raw flesh beneath.

He didn't say anything as the full extent of the damage was revealed, but you could feel his silent fury.

You knew it wasn't directed at you, but at your stubborn refusal to let him in, to share your pain. You hadn't wanted to trouble him, to add another burden to his already heavy shoulders.

You watched him silently through lowered lashes as he cleaned the wound, his fingers ghosting over the damaged skin like a whisper. You flinched at the contact, a hiss of pain escaping your lips.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's okay."

As he began to remove the dead skin around the burn, a searing pain shot through your body. Your head snapped to the side, your teeth sinking into your lower lip to stifle the scream that clawed at your throat.

Satoru paused, his eyes searching yours. "Can you hold on a bit longer for me, love?"

You nodded, unable to trust your voice. You knew he was being as gentle as possible, but the pain was nearly unbearable. Your hand found his shoulder, gripping it tightly, the other one still clutching your shirt. Your fingers dug into his skin, but he didn't flinch, his focus solely on you.

You leaned into him, suddenly boneless with exhaustion and pain, your forehead coming to rest against his shoulder. He wrapped a fresh bandage around your waist, his touch both firm and gentle.

When he was finished, he didn't step away. Instead, he let his hands rest on your hips. He nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply. "Don't ever lie to me again when you're hurt," he said, his voice muffled but resolute. "Promise me."

You lifted your head from his shoulder, your nose brushing against his jaw. He turned his face towards you, his lips a hair's breadth away, so close you could almost taste him on your tongue.

"I promise," you breathed.

A beat of silence passed. Then, his voice softened, almost hesitant. "You didn't call your mother back."

"Huh?"

"She called me. She's worried about you. You haven't answered her calls in weeks."

"I... I can't right now," you whispered, the admission sticking in your throat, the shame of it too heavy to bear. Not another fight. There were already too many, too many wounds that hadn't healed, too many scars that would never fade.

"We can visit her together again. If that would make it easier for you."

"Okay," you whispered, your voice unsteady.

A truce settled between you, a silent agreement to avoid the painful truths for now. He wouldn't push you about Sukuna, and you wouldn't push him about the pills. You both knew this dance, this careful avoidance of the real issues that festered beneath the surface.

But for now, in this moment, you could pretend. Pretend that love was enough. But was it really? Was love alone enough to keep you both alive?

Deep down, you knew there was no happy ending, no miraculous recovery, no fairy tale love that could conquer all. There was only the harsh, ugly reality of addiction and the cold, hard truth of a love that had become a prison, a death sentence disguised as devotion.

"I love you," Satoru whispered, breaking the silence.

His lips hovered over yours, a feather-light touch that once set your soul on fire, but now left you cold and empty.

You slid off the counter, your body brushing against his as you stood. You turned away, unable to face him, unable to face the love that had become a disease, a cancer ate away at your very being.

With a trembling hand, you wiped away the single tear that escaped your eye. "Maybe you should stop that."

"Not even in death," he said to you.

"I'm going to bed," you said to him.

You walked away.

He didn't follow.

Perhaps this was your curse — to forever dance on the knife's edge of love and hate, never able to fully commit to either. Or maybe it was simply human nature, the constant struggle between attraction and repulsion that defined so many relationships.

─── ·✧· ───

You awoke with a start.

For a moment, you lay there, disoriented, confused, your mind struggling to make sense of your sudden alarm. You sat up, your body heavy. And then, you heard it, a sound that cut through the silence of the night.

You knew what it was. Heard it once before.

Satoru.

You were on your feet before you could think, your body moving of its own accord, carrying you over to his bedroom, nearly slipping on the suddenly so slick floor. You pushed open the door, your heart in your throat.

And there he was, thrashing on the bed, his body drenched in sweat, his face contorted in agony.

"Satoru," you said as you moved over. "Wake up."

But you knew this. Had been here before.

Without waiting a second, you climbed onto the bed, your body pressing against his, as you straddled his hips. You cupped his face, your fingers threading through his hair. "Satoru! Please, wake up, it's just a dream, it's not real!"

Still, he remained trapped.

You leaned down, pressing your forehead against his. "Satoru," you said, your breath fanning over his face. "I'm here, I'm right here, please, come back to me."

And then, his eyes flew open, wide and haunted.

He sat up abruptly, pushing you back in doing so, until you sat on his lap, your hands sliding down to rest against his bare, sweat-slicked chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath your fingertips.

He looked at you, his gaze unfocused, his mind still seemingly trapped, as if he couldn't quite believe that you were real, that you were here with him.

"It's okay." You reached up, your thumbs brushing away the single tear that streamed down his cheeks. "You're safe, I'm here, it was just a dream."

He blinked, his eyes clearing, his mind slowly returning to the present, to the reality of your presence, your touch. "You're here," he whispered, his voice raw, broken, barely audible. "You're not hurt?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm here," you whispered, your arms wrapping around him, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, his arms coming up your spine to wrap around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm so sorry."

You held him, your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers in his hair. "It's okay, I'm here."

"Please." His grip tightened around your waist, pulling you close with a searing pain that echoed through the burns on your skin. You bit back a gasp, refusing to let him see how much it hurt. "Please don't leave me."

Your heart nearly shattered at his sudden admission, your grip tightening on him in response. "Stupid," you said. "How could I ever leave you. I'm tethered to you, after all."

─── ·✧· ───

"It's not always the same."

Satoru's voice was hoarse, barely rising above a whisper.

"It's fractured, parts and pieces that I can't really explain. And then I'm alone in this hole, like at the bottom of a well, surrounded by nothing and everything at the same time, and it's crushing me," he paused. "I don't know, it doesn't make sense."

"Maybe it's not supposed to make sense."

"But dreams mean something, don't they?"

"Dreams are just dreams," you said softly. "Thoughts are just thoughts. It's what we do with them that matters. How we choose to act."

Cool, crisp air of the early morning enveloped you both as you walked along the pier, the weathered wooden planks creaking beneath your feet. The sky above was a deep indigo, slowly yielding to the soft hues of dawn painting the horizon.

Around you, the city around you was slowly coming to life, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional cry of a seagull punctuating the quiet dawn.

You glanced out at the water, watching as the first few fishing boats began their journey out to sea, their lights flickering like fireflies in the night. Satoru walked beside you, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket.

Suddenly, he stopped. You halted too, turning to face him.

"Sometimes," he said, "sometimes I see you in my dreams."

"And what do I do?"

"Nothing. You're just there." He hesitated, as if the memory itself was too painful to relive. "But I see your hands, covered in blood. It won't wash away. And I can't wake up, can't look away."

"What do you think happened?"

"I don't know. But I know that whatever it is, whatever happened—it's my fault."

"Why would you think that?"

Satoru met your gaze, his eyes haunted. "Because that's what I do, isn't it? I'm an addict. I hurt people. You said it yourself."

You swallowed, hating yourself for how ugly and hurtful your words could be, even to the people you loved most. "No. You're not."

His frown deepened.

"No, you're not," you repeated, stepping closer. "Not to me. That's a label you've given yourself." You tilted your head back, meeting his eyes. "Satoru, if I could give you one thing, it would be the ability to see yourself through my eyes. To me, you're just Satoru. That's all I want, all I've ever wanted. And I..." You paused, your voice catching. "I hate you, without knowing how, or when, or why. I simply do. And I'm sorry that I've been failing to show you that lately, but I'm trying."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips then, a soft, gentle curve that seemed almost foreign on his face, as if he'd forgotten how to truly smile. "You confused 'love' with 'hate'," he teased.

"Don't get ahead of yourse—," you began but he suddenly reached out, his hand closing around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He cupped your chin with his other hand, tilting your face up.

He studied your face, his eyes tracing every curve and contour. But then his expression hardened, like a mask slipping into place. His fingers brushed through your hair. "You still have ashes on you."

Your chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. "You know, It's hard taking a shower in the same bathroom where you nearly died," you said, hating how your voice was close to breaking.

His eyes widened. It was as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, a painful clarity that shattered him from within. His lips parted, as if to speak, but the words were stuck.

"I never meant to hurt you. Not you," he whispered.

"But you did, Satoru. And you'll do it again," you said. "But I'm yours to break. So it's okay."

He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours. "Don't say something like that." His gaze was fixed on your lips, as if he could taste the pain in your words, as if he wanted to consume it, to take it into himself and bear it for you.

"Then be careful with me, Satoru. Tell me what's going on."

Satoru was silent for a long moment, the only sounds the distant cry of seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. Finally, he spoke. "It's not because of you. The sedatives, I mean."

"Is it about Sukuna?

"No... I mean, yes, but not mostly," he admitted, his brow furrowed. "It's my parents."

"We don't have to go to them, Satoru. You don't have to go there."

"You know why we have to, why I have to."

"Then let's confront this lawsuit head-on. Take the fight straight to Naoya."

His jaw tightened. "No. I won't let that happen. I won't let you get dragged into this."

"Why not? It's my choice, Satoru."

"No. We won't do that. End of discussion."

Without a word, he released you, his fingers slipping from your waist. He stepped back, his footsteps echoing against the weathered planks of the pier as he made his way to the railing to lean against it.

You followed him, the salty air whipping around you, carrying with it the briny scent of the sea and the faint traces of seaweed and fish. Satoru was silent, his gaze fixed on the vast ocean. You followed his gaze.

Around you, the pier was coming to life, the low murmur of voices and the clanking of equipment drifting on the breeze. Fishing boats bobbed gently on the water, their white hulls gleaming in the sun, their crews moving about on deck, preparing for the day ahead.

"I think my problem is that I don't know how to talk about it, how to make you understand things I cannot understand myself," Satoru began. "There's just this chaos inside my head, and I don't know how to sort it out."

"Then don't. Just let it out."

"Huh?"

"You don't have to sort it out. Just speak and I'll listen."

He took a deep breath. "Growing up I never had anyone to look up to. Just people I swore I'd never become. My parents... they were always pushing, always demanding. How do they say it? Wanting the best for me and all that. Top surgeons for generations. It's in my blood." He paused, staring out at the horizon. "But they never asked if I wanted that. Never cared to give me a chance to just... breathe, and think."

He let out a bitter laugh. "And the worst part? I was good at it. A natural. But that only made it worse, made me hate it even more."

You shifted closer, your hand finding the railing beside his.

"I tried talking to them," he continued, "thought if I could just find the right words, I could make them understand what they were doing to me. Get them to change. But no matter how much I screamed, how raw my throat got, they never listened. I could never make them listen."

His fingers twitched at his side, and you saw his nails digging into his palms.

"So I just... stopped trying. Stopped speaking. Went through the motions. It was easier to do what they wanted, to get their attention and approval by being the perfect surgeon they expected. And ironically, it was so damn easy. Maybe that's what got me into addiction so easily."

Satoru glanced down at his hands, his fingers clenched tight. "I still love surgery," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper, as if confessing a shameful secret. "Even after everything they put me through, I love it. How screwed up is that?"

"Do your parents know? About the addiction?" you asked.

"No. I don't think they ever cared enough to notice. Or maybe they just turned a blind eye. I don't know." He looked down at his hands, realizing he'd drawn blood, and quickly unclenched his fists. "I keep telling myself I should forgive them, that holding onto this anger and resentment is pointless. I mean, I'm in my thirties, I should be able to let it go, right? But I just... I don't know if I can."

"What makes you think you have to forgive them?"

He shrugged, avoiding your eyes. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Be the bigger person, rise above it all? Parents are only human, right?"

"No." You stepped closer, tilting his chin up so he had no choice but to meet your gaze. "Satoru, listen to me. You don't have to feel forgiveness or sympathy for your parents, and you don't have to wait for those feelings to appear. You don't owe them your forgiveness. Neither are you defined by their inability to love. You can't force someone to care or to see what they don't want to see."

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his, his blood warm against your skin. "Come with me," you said softly.

You walked down the pier towards the harbor, where the fishermen were already bustling about, preparing for the day's catch. Hands still intertwined with Satoru's, you weaved your way through the activity. He followed half a step behind you, letting you lead.

"When my father died, I wanted to quit," you said, salty air filling your lungs. "Just... walk away from it all. Never see the inside of a hospital again, never open another stupid neurology textbook. I hated that antiseptic smell, how it seemed to cling to everything, even to myself. And I was so angry. Angry at the world, at fate, at everything. And I was alone with this, because my mom just shut herself off. Couldn't face it."

You paused, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. "I felt so torn. Between this anger and my love for medicine. Loving it and hating it in equal measure. I threw myself into work, anything to distract myself from the fact that I couldn't possibly love something that only brought me so much pain. So I chose to hate it, believing anger was what kept me walk."

As you spoke, an old beagle, its brown and white fur speckled with gray, ambled onto the pier. Its long ears dangled as it sniffed its way between a few stalls, its tail wagging gently. It made its way towards you, stopping beside you and sniffing at your leg.

Crouching down, you held out your hand, letting the dog sniff. It hesitated for a moment, its nose twitching as it took in your scent. Then, as if making a decision, it nuzzled into your palm, its tail wagging happily. You couldn't help but smile as you ran your fingers through its soft fur.

"But you don't hate it anymore," Satoru observed quietly. "What changed?"

"It's not linked, you know. It's only in your head." ​​The beagle nuzzled your hand, its tail thumping contentedly against the pier. "You can love something without the circumstances that made you hate it. You can love surgery without the grief, love it without the abuse," you paused, your voice softening, "love the man without the addiction."

Just then, an old fisherman approached, his face etched with deep lines and his skin tanned from years under the sun. "Ah, that old rascal again," he said, shaking his head. "Always getting into mischief."

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. "Is he yours?"

"Nah," the fisherman replied, "he's a bit of a stray, this one. Lives around the pier here. We all try to catch him sometimes, but he's a slippery fella."

Just as he said that, the beagle perked up its ears, gave one last nuzzle to your hand, and trotted off down the pier.

The fisherman grimaced. "See? Always one step ahead. At least he didn't manage to steal my fish today."

You stood up, brushing off your knees. "He's a smart one," you agreed, watching the dog disappear into the crowd.

The fisherman, with a final nod and a wave, turned back to his stall, resuming his preparations for the day. The rhythmic clinking of metal and the smell of fresh fish filled the air once again.

You turned back to Satoru, your eyes locking with his. "Sometimes," you picked up where you'd left off, "we cling to the pain because we're afraid that if we let it go, we'll lose the last connection we have to what we've lost. But anger and pain aren't the only way to stay connected."

You reached for his hand again and pulled him along as you made your way down the pier, the bustle of the fishmongers surrounding you. Their voices rose in a chorus of shouts and laughter, and in the distance you could hear the gentle rhythm of the waves.

The day's catch was displayed on beds of glistening ice, from sleek silver mackerel to plump pink shrimp, their scales catching the light like tiny prisms as you waved through the activity.

At the very end of the pier, you stopped, both of you drawn to the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before you, a shimmering carpet of blue and gold.

The breeze picked up, tugging at your hair and clothes, the salty tang of the sea filling your lungs with each breath. You pulled Satoru's borrowed jacket closer around your shoulders.

"I know there's stability in self-destruction, in prolonging sadness," you said, "but maybe this sadness and anger is just the grief of not having the parents you needed."

"You know what I hate about you?" Satoru asked.

"What, that I look better in your jacket than you do?"

"No, although that's definitely a close second."

"What is it then?" you asked, both of you gazing out to the lazy dance of the waves.

"I hate how easily I got addicted to you," he confessed. "In ways I can't even begin to put into words. How quickly you became a part of me, like you were always meant to be there. Every day, every moment, you're in my head, under my skin. I can't even sleep at night without thinking about you, without wanting to hear your voice, to touch you. Because with you, breathing never felt like a burden. And I think that's something I'm not used to."

He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours. "I care about you, more than I ever thought I could care about anyone. And that terrifies me. It terrifies me to be with you. And I have a lot of regrets about that, about how I've handled things. But I'm trying, I really am. And I'm sorry I haven't been doing a good job lately. I'm trying to be more easy to love."

"You were never hard to love, Satoru, not for me."

Satoru's lips curved into a smile. He took a sharp inhale, his hand coming up to tilt your chin upwards, his gaze on your lips. But before he could lean in, a sudden bark shattered the silence, startling you both.

The stray beagle from before trotted back over, his paws tapping softly against the weathered wood of the pier. His tail wagged as he made his way over, stopping at your feet and sitting down, looking up at you.

"He must really like you," Satoru said against your lips.

You looked down, smiling as the beagle leaned against your leg. "Seems like it." You crouched down again, the beagle leaning into your touch, his soft fur brushing against your fingers. "Guess I just have a thing for old, broken things that no one else wants," you quipped, scratching behind the dog's ears.

Satoru's smile twitched. "Ouch."

He watched you for a second as the sun, slowly rising, painted the sky in hues of pale pink and gold, casting long shadows across the weathered wood planks and reflecting off the calm waters of the harbor.

"Will you tell me what Sukuna said to you?" he asked.

You stopped petting the dog, your smile fading. "He said I was no good for you. That you'd be better off without me."

"And you believe that?"

"I don't know." You resumed petting the dog, your fingers tracing absentmindedly through its fur. "Maybe I am. Maybe I make things harder than they need to be."

Satoru crouched down beside you, the dog curiously peeking up at him as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. "I want you to make my life harder," he said. "Because you make me want to be better, to do better. And even when it's hard, even when I mess up, I'd rather face it all with you than have an easy life without you."

"What if I push you too far? What if I lose myself again? Say those awful things again?"

"It doesn't matter," he said firmly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "I want your awful. I want all of you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm not letting you go, no matter how hard it gets."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," you whispered.

Satoru's gaze softened. "Nothing you say can hurt me."

The beagle, sensing the change in the atmosphere, nudged his head under your hand again, comforting you. You looked down at him, a small smile on your lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you that Sukuna is back," Satoru said after a moment. "I was scared."

"It's okay," you said, looking up at him. "I'm scared too."

He let out a shaky breath. "Stupid what fear makes you do, huh?"

"What would you do if you weren't scared?" you asked.

Satoru blinked, taken aback by the question. He slowly rose to his feet, turning towards the vast ocean. You followed him, the dog settling at your feet. Satoru leaned back against the railing of the pier, his gaze fixed on his feet. "Without fear?"

"Without any fear."

He huffed. "I would quit my job. Sell all that property that ties me to my parents, and buy us a little house, somewhere far away from here, somewhere that feels like home. I'd get us an old, grumpy dog, just like him." He glanced down at the beagle at your feet. 

Then he looked up, meeting your gaze. "And I'd marry you, in a heartbeat, without a second thought. I'd spend every day of the rest of my life making sure you never doubted, even for a moment, just how much you mean to me." 

He paused and looked out at the ocean again. "I'd try rehab again, as many times as it takes, until I get it right, until I can be the man I want to be for you."

You moved closer, closing the distance between you. "Then do it scared, Satoru," you said, your voice soft but unwavering. "You don't have to wait until your past is undone, until you feel forgiveness for your parents, or until this mess with Sukuna is over. You are not paralyzed by it. So do it scared."

Your hand reached up, cupping his cheek, your thumb gently tracing the stubble on his jaw. "I'm scared too. Scared of how much I feel for you, of how deeply you've burrowed into my heart. But I'm willing to do it scared, if you are. Together. Because I can't stand this silence between us."

Satoru leaned in, his hands finding your hips. You tilted your head back, your heart pounding as his lips hovered just a breath away.

"So is this a yes?"

"To what?"

"Marrying me?"

"No."

"No?"

"Ask me again when we're both in a better place. And you'll get the answer you want."

His lips curved into a sly smile, his dimples deepening. "Can I kiss you?"

"Since when do you ask permission?"

"Since we're... like this."

"Like what?"

"Separated," he said, "or something like that."

"We're never really separated, are we?"

"I don't know," he breathed, his lips so close now that you could feel his warmth against your skin. "All I know is that I want you. I've only ever wanted you—"

And with those words, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his. His arms wrapped around you, carefully avoiding your burns, pulling you flush against him.

In one swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

You could taste the salt on his skin, feel the roughness of his stubble against your cheek, the gentle caress of the wind in your hair. In the distance, waves crashed against the shore.

In that stolen moment, the currents met again, their crimson stains matching perfectly and the pain of the past seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you, hearts beating as one, souls intertwined in a way that defied logic.

Finally, he gently set you back down, his forehead resting against yours. "What's your favorite color?" he asked.

"What?"

"Your favorite color, what is it?"

"I don't know, blue?"

Back home, you lay together in his bed, the guest room long forgotten. He pulled you close, his strong arms wrapped around you. And for the first time in a long time, Satoru slept soundly, the nightmares that had haunted him finally silenced.

─── ·✧· ───

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by the obnoxious ringing of the doorbell. Seriously, couldn't you just have a normal wake-up call for once in this chapter? Is that too much to ask, author?

Anyway.

With a groan, you rolled over, your hand reaching out for Satoru, wanting to shove him out of bed to answer the door. But your fingers met only cold, empty sheets. Your eyes blinked open.

He wasn't there.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you glanced around the room, your gaze falling on a small note on the bedside table. You reached for it.

"Had to leave early for a faculty meeting. Breakfast is in the fridge. Construction workers coming at 10, let them in, they know what to do. I love you." It was written in Satoru's distinctive, slanted handwriting.

You stared at the note, not sure whether the unexpected construction workers or the casual "I love you" at the end was more unsettling. Satoru hadn't said anything about construction work, and a little warning would have been nice.

But he made breakfast. Husband points for that.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, you felt your heart skip a beat. 10:15. The construction workers were already here, and you were still in bed, wearing nothing but one of Satoru's t-shirts and a pair of his boxers you'd borrowed last night. Lovely.

Cursing under your breath, you scrambled out of bed, grabbed some sweatpants from the dresser, and pulled them on, almost tripping in your rush to get to the door. The doorbell rang again, the sound even more insistent than before, as you hurried down the hallway.

Then you skidded to a halt. There, sprawled across the living room sofa, was the beagle from yesterday. He blinked sleepily, his head tilting as if he were as annoyed as you were about the doorbell.

What? How did he get in here? Did Satoru bring him?

The doorbell's relentless chime pulled you back to reality. You shook your head, you'll deal with this later. With a final glance at the unexpected houseguest, you unlocked the door and swung it open, your eyes widening at the sight that greeted you.

There, standing on the threshold, were three burly men in hard hats and work boots, their arms crossed over their broad chests as they stared down at you with impatient expressions. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were here to kill you.

Husband minus points for that. At least do it yourself, coward.

"Ms. Gojo?" the one in front asked, ripping you out of your trance as you seemed to be frozen, his voice gruff. "We're here for the bathroom renovation. Mr. Gojo said to start at 10."

If you weren't so sleepy, you might have corrected him about the "Ms. Gojo" part, but you were too confused to bother. You blinked. "I... yes, of course." You stepped aside. "Please, come in."

The men filed past you, their heavy boots thudding against the floor as they made their way into the apartment. You silently cursed them for not taking off their shoes, knowing you'd have to clean up after them. You closed the door and tried to figure out what to do next.

"Um, the bathroom is just down the hall, on the left." You gestured vaguely in the direction. "I... I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. Mr. Gojo didn't mention anything about a renovation."

The leader of the group, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a salt-and-pepper beard, turned to look at you, his expression softening a bit. "No worries, miss," he said, his voice a little kinder than before. "We've got all the instructions we need. You just go about your day, and we'll take care of everything."

"Thank you." You managed a small smile. "I appreciate it."

The man nodded, then turned to his crew, giving them orders as they headed down the hallway towards the bathroom. You stood there for a moment, watching them go, and then your eyes fixed on the two buckets they were carrying.

Wall paint.

Blue.

You felt your heart clench suddenly, or maybe you were about to have a heart attack, or a stroke, or both. After everything that had happened recently, you shouldn't even be surprised anymore. Shaking your head, you tried to focus again.

You needed coffee. You needed food. And most of all, you needed a damn shower.

You grabbed some of Satoru's spare clothes, the breakfast he had left for you in the fridge, and then crouched down beside the dog, cupping his soft face in your hands. "Hey, Dog. Wanna go to the city with me?" He blinked up at you, tail thumping against the sofa. "Alright then, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into with daddy's credit card."

With Dog trotting at your heels, you headed out into the city to buy a leash, find a public bath and then go to the university.

You needed to see Maki.

─── ·✧· ───

"We need to go to Naoya's party."

Maki nearly choked on her coffee, spluttering and coughing as she tried to catch her breath. "What?" She frantically wiped the coffee that was dripping down her chin. Her outburst drew the attention of a nearby table of students, who looked over with raised eyebrows. "I thought the party was canceled because of Dr. Handsome."

You shook your head, leaning forward and lowering your voice even further in the crowded cafeteria. "No, we need to go there because of Dr. Handsome. We have to find a way to cancel that lawsuit against him."

Maki's eyes widened, her mouth falling open. "Cancel the lawsuit? Why now?" A group of students walked by, their laughter momentarily interrupting your conversation. As they passed, Maki's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Wait a minute... isn't that Dr. Handsome's shirt you're wearing?"

You looked down at the shirt, which was clearly a men's shirt and of the brand Satoru always wore. "Oh yeah, about that... I live with him now."

"What? Hold up!" Maki stuttered, almost dying on her coffee again, causing several heads to turn in your direction. She quickly lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "You live with him? Are you serious? When did that happen and why am I just hearing about it now?"

"Well, my apartment kind of went up in flames, so..." you trailed off, shrugging.

Maki's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Your apartment what now? Flames? What? Are you okay?"

You waved your hand dismissively. "That's not important right now. The thing is," you said, trying to get back on track, "Satoru would need more money to cover the lawsuit, and he would have to go to his parents and—," you saw the growing confusion in Maki's eyes and cut it short. "Bottom line, we have to cancel that lawsuit somehow."

Maki sat back in her chair, looking more confused by the second. "Okay," she said slowly, "but how do you plan on doing that? It's not like Naoya is just going to admit what he did and drop the charges."

"That's why we have to go to that party," you said. "We need to get into Naoya's house and find something, anything, that we can use against him. Proof that he tried to drug me, or that he's done it to other girls before. Something that will make him back off and drop the charges. But we can't tell Satoru. We have to go alone."

Maki stared at you for a long moment. "You're crazy, you know that, right?"

"So, are you in?"

"You know, when I said to have a little more fun, I didn't exactly mean it like this." Then a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "But hell yeah, I'm in. Let's wreck that asshole's place. But first, you've got to spill the tea on how you ended up living with the one and only Dr. Satoru Gojo." Then her eyes landed on Dog. "And then you have to tell me why you have a dog with you?"

You leaned down to scoop the sleepy beagle onto your lap, holding him up by the paws. "This is Dog. Isn't he cute?" You gently moved his paw, creating a half-hearted wave. "Say hi to Maki."

Maki raised an eyebrow. "You named him 'Dog'?"

"He doesn't have a name yet." You shrugged, then held up Satoru's black credit card. "Wanna go shopping while I fill you in? I need some clothes. And dog food."

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: the biggest thank you goes out to @/nanamis-baker for helping me with this chapter, i was so unsure about everything going on and still am but she helped me tremendously to sort it all out on how i want to proceed with the story. again, thank you so much. you can read her work here <3

i know this chapter was pretty heavy again, but next chapter will be lighter and fun. also, we might need to add a sukuna slap list, because i lost count of how many times he gets slapped in this story (but deservedly) lol.

moreover, the story is now reaching its last third, can you believe that? it feels like forever since i started this series, so thanks to everyone for still keeping up and patiently waiting for updates :)

a few have wondered where his relapse happened (chapter 11), and i think most thought in his office at the university, but it was actually his place. i kinda forgot to explicitly state it, my bad (and never corrected it, i'm lazy). so… but now we all know it was actually in his apartment, and the reader came home to him after the whole ethics committee thing to check on him, and like found him there.

but anyway, thanks for reading, take care everyone :) and if you haven't checked out the spin-off with suguru yet, you can do so here <3

pls consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters. also, please note that i'll be kicking inactive readers off the taglist so that i can tag more people who genuinely interact with the story.

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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

---

gojo: when my wife is mad, i tighten the lids on all our jars so she has to ask me for help *sound of glass shattering in the kitchen* gojo: it doesn't always work, though

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, breeding kink, violence, descriptions of violence (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.5k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 9 - Masterlist

Chapter 10

The escort agency is in a sketchy part of the city, and Satoru keeps looking at you worriedly that evening. “I’m fine, Professor.”

“You sure? I can take you back-”

“I’m good, promise! You should see the foster homes I was in. This isn’t anything to me.” He frowns more now, and you all pause on the sidewalk, you can feel the tension, the worry.

“I hate that you ever went through that, baby.” He whispers now, caressing your face sweetly. You gulp a bit, sighing and holding the hand that’s so gentle on your cheek.

“It’s all gotten me here, next to the best lawyer there is. The most handsome too. The best-” Satoru closes your mouth with his hand, and you smile against his warm palm.

“Don’t get me hard, brat, stop it.” You’re giggling now, making him glare at you, long white lashes covering half of his pretty blue eyes.

“Sorry, you’re so cute.”

“Cute!? I’ll show you ‘cute’ later.” He kisses you firmly, lips overtaking yours, and you sigh at how good it feels for a moment, before he takes your hand. “Let’s go, Miss Brat. Lawyer mode.”

“Did you really say lawyer mode!?”

When you get there, dragged along by the stupidly tall and stupidly handsome Satoru Gojo, who’s wearing a black suit looking way too good, the bouncer at the door nods at Satoru, letting you both in without a word. You look at him curiously, and he peeks back with a smirk.

“Paid informants silly, never partook in the goods here.” You roll your eyes at his wolfish grin. “Jealous already?”

“Shush.” The inside is dimly lit, with red velvet couches and a bar along the back wall, and there is a woman sitting in a little booth. The woman looks up, and you can see the recognition in her eyes when she sees Satoru. She’s very pretty, with long red hair and green eyes.

“Mr. Gojo, wow it's been years. And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks, her voice a purr as she smiles curiously at you.

Satoru’s grip on your hand tightens, and you can feel his possessiveness, and his reassurance. “Hey Aoi.” He introduces you now, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Favorite student.”

“Oh! Oh… Mr. Gojo.” She’s laughing now a bit, wiggling her brows as Satoru grins, and you’re a blushing mess. “Hey now, doll no worries. Who can blame you with him? And also you’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, so are you Miss Aoi.” You say, flush decorating your cheeks, and she smiles softly.

“And she’s so sweet. All right, I’ll put aside my broken heart for her, Mr. Gojo. How can I help you today?”

“I break all the hearts, don’t I? I’m too pretty.”

“Gojo!” You playfully shove him and he just brushes his snowy white hair back with long fingers, winking down at you so damn charmingly.

“Came to see one of your girls, and Madam.”

“Let me see if she’s available.” She is gesturing to the plush sofa in the waiting area. "Please, have a seat, you two. I'll inform the Madam about your arrival."

Satoru nods then, as he guides you to the couch. “Thanks Aoi.” You sit down, your heart racing at being somewhere so new, so different. The walls are adorned with velvet and the air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume, so cloying it irritates your nose a bit.

As you wait, you feel Satoru's hand squeeze yours reassuringly. You look up at him, and he gives you a smile that's a mix of comfort and challenge, as he pulls you against him, hand on your thigh. You lower your lashes, and feel his chuckle against your collar bone, tickling you now.

“Nervous, Miss Brat?” He asks, in that deep timbre, and you sigh, nodding.

“I am, this isn’t… I’ve just never been anywhere like this.”

“Oh, this is just the waiting room, wait till we walk through. Bet you blush red like a tomato.”

“Hey!”

“Mmhmm, or get horny. It’s a toss up.” You roll your eyes, scooching away, but he yanks you back to him. “You were so jealous just now.”

“No! I just… well, you never…”

“Nah, not my style. Though I don’t blame any of them, making money off rich idiots. And a lot of these women are so smart. They’re great for information.” You brush your fingers up and down his collar as you wait.

 You know he's as eager to get to the bottom of this as you are, you can feel the tenseness of his body against yours. Your knees are knocking together, you keep fidgeting with your hands, then fiddling with the charms on your bracelet. Satoru takes your hand in his, looking at you seriously.

“If you’re uncomfortable-”

“No, no. I’m good. Just nervous about everything.” He sighs, looking at your little charms now.

“You need another, hmm?”

Before you can answer, a curtain at the back of the room parts, and a statuesque woman emerges. She's dressed in a tight, crimson dress that clings to her body like a second skin. Her eyes are sharp and assessing as she looks you both over.

"Madam," Satoru stands, releasing your hand, "Thank you for seeing us."

"Mr. Gojo," she says, her voice like silk, "It's always a pleasure. And who is this lovely young lady?"

"My top student. She's assisting me with the case." He wraps an arm around your waist and her eyes catch it. “She’s also my Shnookums.”

“Shnookums? Huh.” Madam's gaze lingers on you, and you hold her stare, feeling a flicker of something unpleasant. It's not hostility, but something else. Calculation, maybe. "Well, well, this seems interesting, let's talk in private."

You both get up and follow her into a back room, the curtain swishing shut behind you. The room is dimly lit, with a large desk and a few chairs, thick incense heavy and smoking, there are ornate paintings and the walls are red with foiled gold leaf. There's a sense of something seedy but also it’s classy in a way. It’s what you would picture for a Madam, you think at least.

Madam sits down in a big red chair, plush and velvet, crossing long bare legs and smirking at you both. "What brings you to my establishment after so many years, Mr. Gojo?"

“Aww, miss me Madam?” He shoots a wink, and she rolls her eyes.

“Want a drink, you two?” You look at Gojo and he nods. “There’s a decanter of brandy right there, it’s a good year.”

“You’re always so sweet you know.” She scoffs, and his hand brushes your thigh before he stands, adjusting his suit a bit and then pouring from the crystal decanter, allowing the Madam time to study you.

“You’re awfully pretty. You should come work for me.” She cooes, and Satoru comes over and scowls at her, making her smirk. “What, she’d make top dollar.”

“I enjoy law, but thank you for the offer.” You say smoothly, and the madam’s red lips tilt up.

“I like her.”

“I know, she’s the best. Here ya go, Madam.” Gojo hands her a glass, then you, with the clear amber liquid. “Now…” He sits next to you, hand possessively clutching your thigh, he always has to touch you when he can, and you love it, love feeling so connected. “I need to talk to one of your girls. She might have information on our suspect."

Madam's expression doesn't change. "Which one?"

"Kanna."

Her eyes flicker with something, but she remains calm. "Kanna is no longer with us. She's moved on to... other opportunities."

You see Satoru's jaw clench, and you know he's not buying it. "Bullshit," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "I know she's still here, I’ve already had details about her. And I need to talk to her."

Madam sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Very well. But what's in it for me?" She asks, and Satoru smirks now.

“How about… this.” He pulls out a giant wad of hundreds, there was surely thousands of dollars there, and she nods then, standing.

“Always a pleasure, Mr. Gojo. I’ll have her come in. It was a pleasure to meet you, you’ve got quite a man.” She is trailing her long red nails across your cheek, tilting your chin up. “And he’s got quite a girl.”

“I sure do.” She tousles Satoru’s white hair, sauntering out then, leaving you both waiting in anticipation. “She’s kinda a bitch.”

“Mmm, seems like a businesswoman to me.” Satoru chuckles, as you take a sip of the strong liquor, coughing a bit.

“Lightweight.”

“Hey!” Soon though, a young woman with short black hair and a wary look in her eyes enters the room. She's dressed in a short, lacy dress that leaves little to the imagination. You can see the fear in her eyes as she looks at Satoru, and something in your chest tightens.

"Thank you for coming, Kanna. We need your help." Satoru says then, standing up to shake her hand, and her eyes flick to you, and then back to Satoru, curiously.

"Sure, what's going on?"

"We're working on a case," he says, his voice softer now. "And we think you might have some information that could help us."

Kanna looks at the floor, biting her lip. "I don't know anything."

Satoru's gaze turns intense, and you can feel the power in the room shift, it’s like you can see him go into that mode, the serious one. "Look at me," he commands, and she does, her eyes wide with fear. "I need the truth, Kanna. We're trying to put away a dangerous fucking man, and free an innocent one."

For a long moment, she's silent. Then she looks up, her eyes meeting both of you, fidgeting as she sits down finally. "Okay," she whispers, "I'll tell you what I can, that was a long time ago."

“Thank you, Kanna. All right, do you remember a run in with Naoya Zenin?” She tenses, and nods, and you see it right on her face, she’s fucking terrified.

Kanna's voice is shaky as she starts talking, her eyes darting between you and Satoru, and you can see the fear in them. She tells a story of a night with Naoya, a night that ended with bruises and tears. The way she describes his behavior sends a chill down your spine, confirming the suspicions you've had since the moment you laid eyes on him.

Satoru's expression is unreadable, his icy blue eyes never leaving hers, studying her, even as he still holds on to you so close, like you’re tethering him from losing his shit. You hold his hand carefully, he is so tense and you can feel the anger simmering under his calm exterior, his hand balling into a fist at his side that’s not holding you. You know he's holding back, for now, but you’re not sure for how long.

Satoru is furious as he hears what he’s done.

“So why didn’t you say it was him that night with your friend!?” Satoru’s voice is harsh, and you can feel him coming apart at the seams. You struggle to hold his hand, which is clenched so tightly in a fist.

She opens her mouth, then closes it, and tears start pouring from her eyes, so you stand up then, grabbing a box of tissues, and you walk over to her, bending on a knee down on the plush rug. You dab her eyes gently, and she smiles a bit tremulously, Satoru is quiet behind you.

“He’s just really, really worried about someone else getting hurt. You can tell us anything, we’ll protect you, okay?” She nods then, and you come to hold her hands, which are cold and clammy.

“Th-thank you. He told me he’d kill me if I said anything, and I believed him… I was so afraid.” She’s sobbing and you’re holding her thin body, as it wracks with her shaking shoulders.

Satoru comes up then, putting a hand on her shoulder, and one on yours, mouthing a ‘thank you’.

When she finishes her story, you can see the wheels turning in Satoru's head. He's piecing together the puzzle, looking for the one piece that will make it all make sense. "Thank you, Kanna, you've been very helpful. Do you think Madam has any vido cameras back there?”

She frowns, nodding. “She does. I’m not sure how far back they go but I suppose you might find the video of him with me. As for my friend who… is gone… I don't think so. He took her to his place.”

“I’ll pay her to find it. Kanna, could you possibly share this in court?”

“Oh god facing him!?”

“We’ll be right there, Kanna.” You say reassuringly. “He scares me too, he’s already… threatened me.” Your eyes lower, and she gasps, then holds your hands tightly.

“I’ll do it.”

“Oh my god!” You hug her tightly, feeling so much emotion for a girl you barely know. “Kanna you’re so brave.”

“I wouldn’t want you hurt because I was too afraid. But please… I need to make sure I’m safe.”

“You will be, I can get you out of here too if you want. A new life, far away?” She sighs, nodding then, and Gojo stands up and hands her a huge amount of money now, so much it was insane to physically see.

“Oh, you don’t have to.” She hands it back, but Gojo shakes his head.

“You’re doing me the biggest favor. Just keep this between us.”

“Of course, thank you. It will help me so much.” She stands up and hugs Gojo, then comes to hold your hands. “Please be careful. Mr. Gojo take good care of her.”

“I will, of course, I’ll get this mother fucker. Don’t worry.” She exhales, and there is a heavy tension in the room as you both get up to leave, Satoru's hand on the small of your back guiding you out.

Once you're outside, the cool evening air hits you like a slap in the face, and you both take a moment to breathe. "Shit, that was... something."

Satoru turns to you, his eyes a mess of emotions, those swirling cerulean depths drinking you in. He pulls you flush against him, exhaling, warm against the chill of the air, puffing a bit of your hair back. “You were amazing there.”

“What? No, Satoru, I just comforted her.” You look down a bit, but he tilts your chin back up.

“No, you were so caring, where I was harsh. Thank you. I don’t know if she would have opened up without you.” You hug him tightly, and he sinks his lips onto yours, moaning softly in your mouth.

“You’re so welcome, I’m so happy if I helped.”

“You have no clue. I’m learning from you.”

“No way.”

“Mmhmm.” You both keep pecking kisses, as his praise washes over you, making you so damn happy you can’t think. “Let’s get some rest, big day tomorrow.”

“Cuddle?” He smirks, nodding, and leads you back.

That night you end up falling asleep in his lap again, as he can’t tear himself from his research, and your heart aches for him.

****

Satoru Gojo is sipping on a sugary mocha frappe, as you’re sipping on a french roast the next day in a break room. This morning had been more witness testimonies, as Satoru is waiting to ruin it all if he can’t get this witness, Kanna, to be allowed.

“They’ll allow it! Fuck yes.” He says once he’s hung up the cell phone, his eyes lit up, despite the heavy dark circles. You bounce up eagerly, and he pulls you to him, exhaling as he clings so tightly.

“Oh Satoru, this is good news.”

“I’ll play stupid and fuck it all up. I’ll let him get ruined. But fuck, it’s going to be shit to ‘lose’.”

“You’ll be winning, really. Think about it.”

“If he says one word, I’ll fucking kill him.” Satoru says, tersely, then his alarm goes off, it’s time for you all to head back. “Fuck remember when I fingered you in like four minutes?”

You giggle at that, shaking your head at his change of subject. “Yes, I remember, crazy man. You spit on it!”

“Sure did.” He purrs out the words, and you’re a blushing mess now as he pulls you so close. “I’m taking a break after this case, thinking I’ll become a daddy.”

“Satoru stop that!” You smack at his hands as they come over your tummy, and he’s giving you puppy eyes.

“Too flat, I need it filled with me.” He picks you up, as you wriggle around in his hold, but he’s way stronger, and you’re getting turned on with him.

“You’re such an adrenaline whore! You’re getting turned on because we’re gonna get him, aren’t you!?” He grins then, letting you down, you slide down his chest slowly, giggling then.

“Like you’re not too, get turned on by true crime.” You shove at him playfully, before falling easily into his kisses. “I love you, Shnookums.”

“I love you, Toru. We got this.” You pop more reassuring kisses, but there is such a looming presence to your happiness, a heaviness in your chest that you can’t quite describe, gnawing at you.

You shove it down, you need to be here for Toru.

****

Sitting next to Naoya again, you have your shoulders squared, your chin up high as you watch your man, as he decimates the prosecution with ease, like any good defense attorney. Each question is a dance, a mix of Gojo pretending to try, and letting so much slip that will go against Naoya, as if biding his time until he’s going to demolish his own case.

“The prosecution calls Kanna Otigori to the stand.” Says the prosecutor, and Gojo pretends to be surprised along with everyone else. He may or may not have paid off the prosecution to call her.

Yeah Gojo is something alright.

Her eyes widen in fear as she sees Naoya next to you, and you look over to watch him stiffen, his fists clenching the table so hard they’re turning white. You can’t stop the smile the quirks up on the side of your lips, but you instantly erase it when he looks over at you. His eyes are terrifying, they make you tremble as he glares.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” You ask softly, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes and sinking down into the seat.

“Didn’t give you permission to talk to me.” It’s your turn to scoff, looking at your notes for a moment, but suddenly he’s gripping your leg so hard you’re crying out, the courtroom is too loud currently with the uproar for it to stand out.

“Get the fuck off me.” You hiss at him, and he slides his hand up then, you grip his wrist, digging your nails in and glaring. “Get off.”

“I’ll expose you both if you ruin this shit for me, fucking got me?” You tremble, looking away as he continues to boldly touch you, in front of the whole room, but no one could see. “Let me catch you when your body guard isn’t around.”

He lets you go, and your heart is shattered, as you realize everything you have with Satoru is going to crumble. You’d ruin your career, his… but you can’t let him get away with this shit. You casually kick the fuck out of him with your heel under the table, and he damn near lunges at you before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Was gonna be sweet with you. Not now. I’ll fucking ruin every inch of you.” He whispers, and finally you can’t take it, you’re hyperventilating. You step out, rushing through the room, and eyes are everywhere on you.

You sink against the wall, holding your chest, it feels as if it were going to just explode, and then Satoru is there, holding you. “Satoru, no, go back in. Go back in! You need to fucking get him! You-”

“What’d he say!? What happened!? Baby tell me.” He’s cupping your face, having left his own damn trial for you.

“I’m ruining your life.” You whisper through tears, and his lips part in a gasp, as he shakes his head furiously, bending low, his beautiful face blurring as you keep feeling more and more faint. Your blood pressure has skyrocketed, you’re shaky, and you can’t catch a breath.

“You’re making my life. There was nothing before you. Stop it. Please, baby, c’mere…” He pulls you against him as you continue to hyperventilate, to the point you’re not sure you can breathe anymore. “Baby breathe with me. Please.”

Satoru holds you close, his hand rubbing circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, trying to calm you down. You focus on his steady breaths, trying to match them, but it's hard, really hard. The walls seem to be closing in, and all you can think about is Naoya's threats, about Satoru’s future, and you realize you’re crying all over his dress shirt.

"I've got you, everything will be fine." He whispers, and you want to believe him, you really do. You cling to his suit, breathing him in, trying to ignore the panic attack that's taking over your body.

But it's not fine, is it? It’s never going to be fine if Naoya gets away with this.

You manage to suck in a breath, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes searching your face, so concerned, so loving. "You okay?"

"No." You admit, and his own expression cracks, just a bit. "But I'll be okay. We'll get him."

"We will, I promise you. If not, I’ll fucking murder him, you got me?” He cups your face as he says it, as you lose yourself in his eyes. “What did he say?”

“I can’t tell you, you’ll fuck up the case. I need your head in the game, you need to get him. Please.” Satoru scowls then, opening his mouth to demand you tell him, when a court officer approaches, looking stern.

"Mr. Gojo, you're needed back in the courtroom." Satoru nods, looking torn.

“I need a break, please, I’ll be back in. Don’t worry, I'm okay.” He frowns, and you feel his energy, his love, as he shakes his head, but you gently push him.

"I love you. I promise I’ll do this right." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before he has to go back in, but his touch lingers, as you hug yourself, trying to control the violent shaking.

If you are going to be a criminal lawyer, you need to try to face this, you need to push past it.

You allow yourself some time before you walk back in, sitting next to this fucking man, and finally watch Satoru work his magic. He gives you a reassuring little smile, and you thank God he doesn’t know what Nouya did just yet, you know he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Your skin crawls as you continue to sit next to this disgusting man, but he’s actually terrified now, his eyes bulging out of his head, as Gojo plays ‘dumb’ and acts so shocked that the witness is ruining his case. He’s waving his hands dramatically, and trying to ‘argue’ his way, half assed of course, and suddenly the prosecution is looking happy.

“Kanna, how are we to believe you!?” Satoru asks, as if he’s really trying to dissuade her, then suddenly, a bailiff is handed evidence, and Satoru once more pretends to look shocked.

It’s a perfect show.

You both had admitted it to evidence by paying the Madam double what Satoru already had, to make it look like the Prosecution had done so. These Prosecution lawyers probably thought they were killing it, beating the Satoru Gojo!? And Satoru let them think so.

The Satoru Gojo, the best lawyer, who never loses, is going to lose on purpose, so he can make sure this fucker disappears.

“What is this!?” Satoru asks, as the judge views it, turning pale.

“This is… please, everyone, allow me a moment.” The judge is so disgusted she walks out for a moment, before convening with the lawyers and the rest of the team. “We will play this, but please be aware, it’s graphic.”

The video so clearly shows Naoya abusing Kanna, and you feel your stomach roll with nausea, tensing, as the jury looks on in horror. Kanna has already been escorted back, and you know she will be going far away, starting hopefully a much better life than she had. You’re ready to vomit, as Naoya is losing his shit, and his family is trying to control him.

Satoru is holding his mouth, as if he’s as sick as the rest of you, at points he couldn’t even look. “Your honor, I have nothing to say, defense rests.”

Everyone in the courtroom is in shock, there’s so much noise that the judge banging her gavel isn’t doing a damn thing, they’re all losing their shit. The famous Gojo rests his case, and he comes up to stand between you and Naoya, who lunges at him, and you see Satoru’s insane blue eyes, his brows up high, grin huge like the joker. He looks fucking crazy.

“Looks like our next talk will be how to keep you off death row.” He says, patting Naoya then on the shoulder, and then he’s just dragging you out, you race in your heels to catch his quick, long strides, until you all are out front.

“Satoru, are you okay? That was-”

“What’d he do? What’d he do fucking tell me.” You blink a bit, as he’s cupping your face so tight, and that insane look is even more insane, his eyes are so bright they hurt you to stare at. You take a shaky breath, looking around, and seeing people filing out of the courtroom.

“Satoru, we can’t right here-”

“I don’t fucking care. Tell me. Now. I have to know what he said to get you that way, what he threatened, he’s clearly a fucking monster!” His voice is breaking, and it breaks your heart to see him this way, as he’s got you in a vice like grip.

“Satoru, you’re hurting me.” You whisper, as he’s squeezing your head so hard it aches, he instantly releases you, pulling you against him and kissing you, shamelessly right there. “Satoru we can’t!”

“You’re fucking mine. I’m so tired of it.” He’s burying his face in your neck, and you know people can see, they’re starting to stop and say things.

“Please calm down.” You ease back a bit, then pull him away further, until you are behind a little alcove in front of the court house, and Satoru is completely on edge, he’s trembling all over. You run your hands gently down his arms. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t do something rash.”

“Nope, just tell me.” You sigh again, then hug your own arms, looking down as he studies you. “I need to fucking know baby.”

“Shit. He touched my thigh… and higher. Satoru!” He’s punching the bannister, and you watch it crackling, as he faces you again. “What else?”

“Satoru…”

“What else!?”

You tremble at his tone, you’ve never seen him so unhinged and it’s terrifying you now. “He… said he’d ruin me for you.”

“Fucking what!?”

“It’s fine, we’re going to-”

“I’m done acting so fucking mature. I’m done being the bigger person. He can’t touch you, don't you get it baby? I’ll never let him touch you again.” Satoru slings off his jacked as Naoya is coming right for him, and your heart drops in your stomach.

There’s no reaching Gojo now.

The crowd gathers around the two of you, whispers flying, as Naoya stops right in front of you, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "You think you're so fucking clever, don't you, Gojo?"

Gojo grins, looking terrifying, but Naoya doesn’t back up one bit, as Gojo starts laughing then. "It’s about to get so much worse for you. I wonder which boy will rape you in prison?" Satoru says, his voice deadly calm, his eyes glowing with rage.

Naoya loses his shit then, shoving at him. "You think you can just use me to win your little game? I'll show you what happens when you mess with me."

Satoru steps closer, so close you can feel the heat of his breath on your cheek. "You're already going down, Naoya. This is just the cherry on top, beating you to a fucking pulp for touching her."

You watch as Naoya's eyes narrow, his hands curling into fists, and Naoya swings first, but Satoru is already moving, his fist connecting with Naoya's jaw with a sickening crack. The sound echoes through the air, and Naoya stumbles back, his mouth hanging open in shock, and you watch blood already pouring from Satoru’s huge fist connecting.

You watch in horror as Gojo grabs him, slamming him against the banister, each punch thrown with the precision of a master. It's clearly not Satoru’s first time fighting, he seems to know every spot. Naoya struggles to get a single hit in, but Satoru is ducking, then swinging and punching his stomach.

“I said if you touched her you’d fucking die.” He bites out, as people are now recording on their phones.

Shit.

“Satoru…” You try to get his attention, but he’s well past that, and you want to stop him, but your body is frozen, your heart racing as you watch the man you love beat the living daylights out of the monster that is Naoya.

Satoru is like a force of nature, unstoppable, relentless, and you're both terrified and turned on by the power he exudes, and there’s now the threat of everyone seeing this, seeing him fighting Naoya over you. Naoya lands a hit on Satoru’s pretty face now, and you lose your shit, you snatch up your briefcase, coming behind him and whacking the fuck out of him now.

You can hear the murmurs of the crowd, the gasps, the whispers of shock and excitement as you’ve seemingly joined the fight. “Don’t touch him, you piece of shit!” You growl out, and Naoya coughs up blood, as Gojo grins over at you, pulling you to him for a moment.

“Fuck you’re hot.” He says, and you actually giggle, as he’s covered in blood, kissing you in front of a whole audience.

You all are SO fucked.

Naoya comes and shoves you then, knocking you on your ass, and then Satoru is back on him, knocking him to the ground and straddling him. “I’ll fucking kill you, don’t you dare touch her!”

Naoya’s family is trying to break it up, as are others, but the fight is brutal, each hit landed with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. It seems like it goes on forever, but it's really only a matter of minutes before Naoya is on flat the ground, not moving, and Satoru is kneeling over him, chest heaving as he keeps punching. Naoya isn’t even conscious.

“Satoru… he’s out.” You come to him then, touching his shoulder, so tense and shaking, but he looks up at you, then back at him, and punches his swollen, bruised face again, as you hear the sirens approach.

Shit.

The police come rushing over now, trying to pull Gojo away, but he’s not listening, he’s lost in his rage, until you’re grabbing his shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s over, Toru please stop, please." You’re shaking him, and finally, he’s coming back to reality, looking down at you, his eyes still alight with that rage, but now there’s a hint of something else.

Guilt.

He looks at you, and you just nod, and stand then, and he kisses you, so hard, before the cops can drag him away, whispering in your ear. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, I’ll get us out of this, I promise. I love you so much, so much.”

“Satoru, I’ll get you out. I’ll head right there okay!?” He nods then, as the cops are putting the love of your life in handcuffs, and the ambulance is taking a completely unrecognizable Naoya away.

You’re left standing there, as Satoru is taken away in the car, and you hop in his, heart racing and hands trembling, as you now have to navigate his car, and you follow the cop car, seeing his bright blue eyes peeking at you from the rear window. You stay right behind them until you get to the jail.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse inside of his car, smacking the wheel as your chest is heaving, as you’re fucking terrified.

You end up having to wait over three hours, agonizing as your friends let you know they’ve already watched the video on youtube. As Suguru and Nanami blow up the phone Gojo left, and there’s an insane amount of calls from Dean Yaga to both of your phones, that go unanswered.

You all are so fucked.

After a long, long wait, they let you bail Satoru out, luckily he had a fuck ton of money in his wallet, because it was hefty, and when he steps out, he is laughing and chit chatting with the cops. They’re patting his back, apologizing for this, and he’s grinning when he finally gets to you.

“Satoru!” You’re in tears, and he picks you up in his arms, hugging you tightly, and the cops clear their throats.

“Let’s go, baby.” Now you’re cleaning Satoru’s wounds in the little hotel bathroom, pulling out different things from the first aid kit.

You gently clean Satoru's face, your trembling hands moving with the gentle precision of a sculptor repairing a cherished masterpiece. Satoru’s beautiful face is a masterpiece, and to see it marred seems so cruel. You’re dabbing on his busted lower lip carefully, before applying antiseptic.

“It might sting.” You murmur apologetically, and he smiles a bit, as his hands sit on the nip of your waist, hands encompassing it.

“I am getting taken care of by the hottest nurse, I’ll not be a little bitch and cry about it.” You snort at that, as his hands now press into your hips, making you melt more and more.

“You’re too positive. Fuck you know what happened…” You exhale, as you continue to wipe him clean, dabbing right on his eye which is swelling a bit. “I’ll get some ice for this.”

“Mmm, you spoil me. Nurse and student fantasies.” You giggle at him, returning with some ice and wrapping a washcloth, placing it on his brow bone.

 His eyes are closed, and his breaths are shallow, but he grips your hips firmly, as if afraid you'll slip away. The room's stark lighting casts stark shadows across his skin, highlighting the raw, red marks where Naoya's knuckles had made contact. The adrenaline rush from the fight has begun to recede, leaving behind a cold wave of fear that now crashes over you,

“I’m scared, Satoru.” You whisper, and Satoru's eyes finally open, meeting yours with a fiery intensity that makes you gasp. He pulls you closer, his grip tightening.

“Don’t be baby girl, I’ll deal with this. I promise, I won’t let it touch you.” He says desperately, and you shake your head, blinking back tears.

“Why don’t you ever worry about you!? Why is it only me!” You’re shaking him by the shoulders, and he lets you, just studying you with heartbreakingly gorgeous eyes.

“I’m rich as fuck, I’ll pay them to keep you at the school.”

“Satoru, what about you!? You’ve done everything to nail him, even losing this damn case, you can’t let this ruin you. Not when you help so many.” You whisper, and now you’re straddling him as he sits at the edge of the tub, and he’s blinking back emotion, his long white lashes dripping with little droplets of tears.

“Who do I help?” His broken voice kills you, you shake your head, gently cupping his cheeks, careful not to hurt him, and he’s gripping your hips bruisingly, as if he never wants to let you go.

“So many people! Satoru you’ve saved lives, you’ve put away murderers-”

“An innocent man!”

“And we’ll get him out! Stop it, you need to know how amazing you are.” He’s crying silently now, you gently brush his tears away, taking a shaky breath. “You’ve saved me in so many ways. You’ve given me arms that make me feel like I’m at home, finally.”

He’s sobbing, resting his head on your chest, and you cling to him, holding him so tightly as he does, his big hands gripping your shirt so tightly you think he’ll rip it right off. Every sob and shake break you internally, as the man you love is so broken, he’s got so much fucking pain.

“I fucked us up too.”

“No! We’ll handle it. We will. Satoru nothing will keep me from this, even if… even if I can’t…”

“Don’t say that, you have to be a lawyer, fuck you’re destined for it. You’re so good baby. I swear to god I won’t let that fuck up.” He looks back to you, and you nod, trembling in his hold as emotions flow, as the little bathroom is suffocating in all the emotion and tension.

“I will do anything for you, Satoru Gojo. Anything.” He picks you up then, moaning, and wincing at the same time. “Satoru, are you okay!?”

“ ‘Tis but a scratch.”

“Did you just quote Monty Python?”

“Good girl.” You giggle, even though it’s fucking insane, even though you are both beyond fucked, even though Satoru just beat up a murderer and everyone knows about you.

Even if your life is ruined, Satoru is here.

Flesh and blood.

“I need you, I need you. Please.” You’re begging as he’s carrying you to the bed, and he exhales, undressing you slowly, unzipping the business skirt you were still wearing, as the moonlight is pouring in through the hotel window. You tremble as he unbuttons your blouse, kissing each inch of exposed skin.

“I’ll give you anything, baby girl.” He murmurs, as your hands are enwrapping in his snowy white hair, so soft in your fingers, and then he’s got you bare aside from a bra and panties. “Beautiful.”

“Oh, Toru…” You’re crying now too, needing him so badly you can’t think, breaths coming quicker when he takes off his shirt, revealing that perfect body. You eagerly run your hands down it, kissing down his chest, until he shoves you down on the bed, right on your back, shaking his head.

“Let me take care of you, baby girl. Please?” He whispers, his eyes dilated so that there’s just a thin blue ring, as his hands caress your sensitive skin, leaving a wake of fire. “Be a good girl f’me, baby?”

“Yes, of course. Of course, Toru. Please.” You whisper, sitting up to undo your bra, letting your breasts bounce out, and he’s groaning, gripping them and squishing them in his hands, kissing down each mound. You cry out at how good it feels when he bites you there, when he squeezes so hard.

“Too rough baby?” You shake your head, and he exhales, kissing around an areola before sucking one of your perky nipples in his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, and your hips buck up at how good it feels. It shoots straight through your tummy, where his hand is sliding down. “I fucking love your body.”

“Th-thank, ah! Toru!” You’re soaking your panties, as he’s slipping his finger down the waistband, moaning when he finds you.

“You’re such a good girl, always so wet f’me baby. Aren’t you?” His voice is hoarse, his finger slipping up and down between your lips, and you’re clutching him so tightly, manicured nails digging in his back, making him hiss. “Yes, fucking mark me, please baby.”

“Toru…” You’re not used to him like this, as his eyes flutter shut over you, and he’s so vulnerable then, so needy, as he whines when you’re finding him over his pants, rubbing. “So hard for me Toru? Show me.”

“Yes baby.” He leans back and takes off his clothes finally, you eagerly go to touch him, feeling his length twitch in your grip, but he shoves you back down, shaking his head. “I need to take care of you.”

“You can do that by fucking my throat?” He groans at that, eyes shutting for a moment, allowing you to look just how beautiful he is as that moonlight hits his alabaster skin.

“You drive me insane. The moment I first looked into your goddamn eyes at that club. No, before, when I saw you just standing there.” You’re blinking rapidly, as he’s taking your panties off, kissing down between your breasts, nipping at the tight skin at your ribcage, and you cry out, growing even wetter as your cunt is exposed to the cool air of the room.

“You did?” You whisper, he looks up with those heartbreaking eyes, nodding and kissing further down, nipping your soft tummy, then even lower, shoving your thighs apart and groaning.

“You didn’t belong there. It’s what I thought. I thought, who is this girl? Why does she make my heart stop?” You’re sobbing, even as much as you’re soaking wet between your thighs, your fucking eyes are too, and you’re arching your back for his hot mouth, as your love grows so much it hurts.

“Satoru, I couldn’t- fuck- stand it when I saw you. You changed everything… at that moment I- ah!” He’s licking your inner thigh, right where it’s at that apex, and you’re shivering at the sensation, then he’s breathing on you, looking up in the night up your body. “I knew I was done for.”

“Knew when I tasted this perfect pussy. When I drank you.” He laps you up then, the way this man devours you, the way he worships you, you can’t stand it, you can’t take it, you’re so close already, you’re shattering with a few flicks of that tongue. He groans against you. “When I saw… those eyes… when you cum…”

“Satoru, please, please. Fuck me. Please.” You beg for him, yanking at his hair now, and he desperately slides up you, as you cup his bruised and cut face, still so beautiful it’s unreal, and you feel that weight on you, feel his body heat pouring through your skin. “Please, Toru. Need you in me.”

“I’ll give you anything.” He shoves inside you then, and you’re screaming, literally screaming at the stretch, at the fill, as your greedy cunt is sucking him right in. “F-fuck, you feel so goddamn perfect, sucking me in s’good.”

“Toru! S’big- ngh I- fucking love your cock, fuck.” He presses on your throat now, squeezing and shoving his cock inside you so deep, to the hilt, you lose oxygen, seeing stars glittering behind your damn eyes.

“Feel me baby girl?” He presses on your stomach then, and you look down, as he moves in and out, seeing a bulge that makes you blush furiously. You just nod, as he still has his other hand on your throat. “Feel me everywhere.”

“I do, Satoru fuck… I do. Everywhere.” You whisper, as he’s choking you tightly, you grip his wrist with one hand, the other clutching to his back, nails digging in again, and he hisses, before pulling back a bit.

“Can you take it hard?” You nod, eagerly, then he exhales, as if he’s been holding back, his consideration touches you, but his cock railing you, ruins you.

“T-T-Toru!” You’re choking out his name, as he’s fucking into you brutally now, as his mad blue eyes dreamily drink your face in, and you lose yourself in them, in Satoru Gojo, as he’s pounding you into the mattress, as he’s taking your breath. You cum so hard you feel like you’re floating, like you’re flying so damn high in the air, and only he brings you back.

Satoru eases his grip on your neck, but now he’s leaning down, pressing one of your thighs up high and fucking even deeper, and you’re close again, already so oversensitive you can’t take it. You’re desperately clinging to his neck, to his shoulders, anywhere and everywhere you can cling to.

“I need… you… forever. Baby. Forever.” He huffs, and his words shock you, as you both had said your love, but…

This is crazy.

Could there be a forever?

You’d do anything to have a forever.

“Yes, Toru, yes… forever. Forever yours. Only you.” You whisper back, your brows drawing together as he’s sweating now, his skin slick as yours is now too, and he’s dripping just a bit, his chest down to your breasts. You’re cumming again, clinging to him so tight, he is groaning as he studies you, so carefully, like you’re the only woman or thing in this world.

“Only me. Only me.” He’s huffing as he works over you, then he’s entwined his hands in yours, your fingers together, and you’re sobbing at how good he feels, as his curved cock drags in your walls. He hisses as they flutter around him, resting his forehead on yours. “I fucking love you.”

“I fucking love you. Toru. You.” Hushed whispers continue, as Toru relentlessly pounds your pussy, and he’s fucking you into another orgasm, you’re so wet you’re slippery, so wet you hear the lewd squishing. He’s kissing you now, his firm lips on yours, uncaring of his cut, he’s brutal in his kiss.

“Mine. Mine to keep. Protect. Fucking breed.” He says now, looking at you manically, and you’re falling off that edge with him, chest heaving, as he’s pressing his hard chests on your lush breasts, as he’s grinding his cock deep against your cervix and you’re screaming out, arching your back.

He’s kissing down your neck now, and you’re shaking violently. “Breed me, Toru, breed me please.”

“Mmm, baby, fuck!” He’s moaning, he’s whimpering, just as you’re whining out pathetically, and he’s grabbing your hips up, shoving in so deep it hurts, but you crave it, your sloppy cunt is milking him as he releases. “Take it baby. Take it.”

“T-Toru! Ngh!” You’re cumming again, as his huge load of thick cum pours in you, and he’s exhaling, his eyes never leaving yours, lidded and fucked out just like your own, as you both whine at how sensitive you are. “Love you. Want your babies.”

“Want em? Want em in you?” You nod, and he keeps pumping that cum in you, clinging to your hands as he’s kissing you, desperately, and you’re gone now, there’s only you and Satoru Gojo.

No world.

You’d do anything for him. Anything to feel this.

Satoru exhales, leaning up a bit, and you frown when you notice he’s busted his lip back open, gently touching it with your thumb. “Fuck I love you.”

“And I love you, Satoru Gojo.” You whisper, and he kisses you again, you both don’t care about the bit of blood, you greedily take his kisses, as he turns you then, pulling you so close against him, clinging to you. “Oh, Satoru…”

“I fucked up shit.” He’s shaking, so you hold him close, shaking your head as you struggle to come down from the climaxes, from the dizzying madness that consumes you, from Satoru Gojo.

“We’ll figure something out. I’ll do whatever it takes.” He glares down at you, his jaw tense, so tense you see a vein popping out. You run a finger down it, as your thigh is over his own, as you’re a tangle of limbs in the messy bed. “I’ll never fucking leave you, Satoru.”

“Never!? Promise me please.” He begs now, and you nod eagerly, earning more of his messy kisses.

“How could I? There’s nothing but you.” He’s gripping you so tightly to him you swear you hear your damn ribs creak, like he can’t get you close enough. You snuggle to his big body, as reality sets in on you both. “We are in deep shit though.”

“Deep shit. Quicksand of shit. But guess what?”

“What?” You whisper, looking up at him, your messy hair being brushed back by his sure touch.

“I’ll do anything for you.”

His words hurt you, as you know he literally means anything. “Don’t try to sacrifice yourself for me! We’ll do it together.”

“You’re my everything. There’s nothing without you.” You feel those sticky hot tears returning as he caresses your face, as you feel his erratic heartbeat against your palm. You feel his desperation, his energy, his need, and it matches your own.

“Then keep your fucking self safe too. Okay!?” He doesn’t answer you, he’s just caressing your hair, in gentle strokes, so soothing. “Satoru don’t do anything stupid, please.”

“I already did, didn’t I?”

You glare now, shaking at your worry, at your anger, at your love. “We can fix it, or I’ll go down for it. It’s worth it to be with you.”

“I’ll not let shit get you. Never baby.” He kisses you again, and you’re falling apart and being put back together in this damn hotel room, and you’re just trying to avoid the reality of tomorrow in his strong arms.

Ao3 chap https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/150274354

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