Chapter Text
“Don’t have too much fun!” You call from your spot, leaning against the frame of your front door. Gojo watches your bright eyes crinkle as you wave down at their group piling into the car. “Satoru!” You motion your finger at him, calling him over to you.
He leaps towards you like a lost puppy, eating up any attention you would give him. Your focus constantly on the man you had decided to marry tomorrow, nowadays. There were nothing but scraps left for your best friend.
Gojo doesn’t have anything against your fiance. Quite the opposite. Objectively he’s a nice guy; sweet, caring, if not a little sensitive. But he had fantastic chaotic energy to match Gojo’s, the pair unstoppable playing games or teaming up to annoy you. He treats you right… So why can’t he just be happy for you? Or the new friend you had brought into his life?
He’s in your way. A snide voice swells up from a place deep within his heart. She was yours first. She promised you!
Images of your shared childhood pass through his mind. Gojo ran across the yard, tackling you to the ground, smearing grass stains onto your school uniform as he landed on top of you. “You’re never gonna leave me right?” He pouts down at you.
He was seven when that happened; you, just a year younger at six. You had thrown a hug around his neck, assured him you would always be by his side. He guessed they had different definitions of what exactly that meant. Over two decades later, he’s still head over heels for you.
You look over his shoulder to the man in question blowing you a kiss and waving. “Please go easy on him,” your voice drops to a hushed whisper, hand coming up to hold just above his elbow. Heat from your palm seeping into his skin; he purrs internally at the touch. “I think he’s nervous about what you have planned. You have a reputation.”
A wide, crooked smirk plays across his face. “When have I ever steered you wrong, princess?” He lightly punches your shoulder. “I promise my best behavior.”
Gojo mockingly salutes you. Snickering at your worried expression, clearly not believing him. You shove him back playfully, hissing. “Too many times, you fiend! You attract trouble.”
“(y/n)!” he yells, pouting. His legs bouncing, arms flailing slightly, as if he was starting to throw a tantrum. “I can’t help it if it finds me. Why don’t you trust me?!”
“Hush, you fucking child, you know you’re the one I trust the most.”
He’s going to be the only person you ever trust again.
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“A strip club, Gojo?” your fiance asks sheepishly. “Classy as ever, man.”
Another in their group claps him on the back. Your boyfriend’s brother? “Bro, strippers are a requirement for a stag party!” his laughter booming around them.
Gojo had tuned out all of the introductions when your fiance rattled through them. Focused on controlling the dread that was seeping into his bones.
He was running out of time. Gojo glances over his shoulder at your fiance as they walk through the tinted entrance. Neon signs flickering, illuminating the hallway. Music leaking out from around the door separating the hall from the club.
“Satoru,” the manager greets from behind the desk. He cringes at the use of his first name. Revealing the familiarity he has; the consistency in which he seeks out their establishment. You were right, he has a reputation. And this was not helping him with your fiance, who he could see was getting increasingly anxious.
There wasn’t anything inherently special about this club, though he had become a regular. One of the dancers who worked every weekend had garnered his sick, twisted attention.
Her waist length hair the same shade as yours, her head meeting where you would if you’d embrace him. The ease at which you replaced her within his thoughts… He didn’t even care to remember her name, moaning and grunting for you when he paid for her services.
She’s dancing as they enter the club and take their seats. Your fiance’s mouth falling open, eyes stuck on her body writhing on the pole. The darkness in the club did not hide how wide his pupils spread as she noticed his attention, making eye contact with him while she sheds her skimpy bra.
“Drinks are on me tonight!” Gojo yells, moving away from the group towards the bar. He just needs a little push. Gojo’s dark thoughts returning.
As he sets up a tab at the bar, starting with two shots a piece, a third added for the future groom, he feels a manicured hand slide from the center of his back, up to his shoulder, settling around his chest as unbound breasts press hot against his thin shirt. He inhales pretend-you’s perfume, she must have finished her set.
Gojo concocts a half-assed plan, no longer able to shoulder the anxiety of watching you waste the rest of life with anyone other than him. He couldn’t lose you.
“How much would it take for you to seduce and fuck the groom over there?” he whispers leaning into the girl’s neck.
“Is this about, (y/n).” She asks, humming as his lips plant an open mouthed kiss on her neck. He nods in place of words. “When’s the wedding?”
“Tomorrow evening. I’ll need to get a picture to send to her… maybe a video.”
“Hm. In that case,” She contemplates her options. “$1,000 up front for even attempting, then another nine if he actually goes through with it. I’ll take him to the back alley.” She looks down, catching his eyes darken as he realizes this could work.
Gojo hands her his credit card. “Deal.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“You good man?” Gojo leans in, pulling your inebriated fiance closer. “Wedding’s tomorrow, how ya feeling?” He slurs his words slightly.
The group had dispersed, leaving the two of them alone. Which was entirely Gojo’s doing; doling out access to private rooms for the others to leave your fiance alone when she swooped in for the kill.
“I- Can you ke-keep a secret, bro?” Your fiance grabs the back of Gojo’s neck, bringing their foreheads together. Gojo nods slowly, attempting not to scare him off. “I’m petrified. The commitment. The vows.”
God this was going to be easier than taking candy from a baby. His inner demons smirked maniacally.
“You have one more night of freedom,” Gojo leans back, downing the rest of his drink. “I’m getting a private dance, put whatever you want on the tab.” He winks down at him, turning to signal his accomplice.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
You had just settled into bed, letting the duvet slip over your curves when you feel your phone vibrating under your pillow. Satoru’s goofy selfie flashing on the screen as you squint at the screen in the dark.
Sliding the answer button over, placing the phone to your ear, you can’t get a breath in before Satoru’s panicked voice launches into his story. “(y/n), I am so sorry, I only left him alone for a few minutes…”
Your mind immediately rushes to the worst case scenario. Was your fiance hurt? What hospital was he in? Did he get arrested?
“I found him in the alley behind the club,” he voice was full of regret. Satoru was never this serious. Behind the club? Unconscious? Beaten up? Mugged? “He… he was fucking one of the dancers.”
A wave of nausea washes over you. “No. Satoru. He’s not like that. You know he’s not like that.” Words of denial fall from your lips, your head shakes back and forth
The text tone has you pulling your phone away from your cheek.
The air leaves your lungs as the video repeats in a loop on your screen. Your fiance’s hips rutted into that whore’s ass, his pants pulled down to his knees as he bent the woman over to brace her face against the wall in the dingy alleyway. You can see his hands biting harshly into her waist, pulling her back into him.
A sob escapes your mouth, a hand flies up to attempt to stop the sounds of anguish. “(Y/N)?!” Satoru’s voice spikes in concern. “Do you need me to come get you?”
He can’t see you nodding your head furiously, tears running down your face, desperate to reach a place you always knew was safe. “Please, Satoru.”
He ends the call, smirking down at his phone as he transfers the rest of the money over to pretend-you’s account. That couldn’t have gone any better.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
When Gojo pulls up, your house is desolate, black, empty. There is no sign of life despite him seeing your car in the driveway where they had left it. He uses his key to unlock your front door, moving down to your bedroom.
He hears you soft whimpers as your sobs spill out of the pillow you had shoved your face into. He knocks lightly to signal his entrance, not waiting for a reply as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed.
He hesitantly places a hand on your mid thigh, rubbing back and forth in a comforting motion. His heart warms when you don’t pull away, your breaths evening out as his rough hand rubs circles into you.
Gojo lays his head on your hip, continuing his motions. “I’m sorry, princess,” his tone still serious. “If there had been a way to tell you without you seeing that…” He trails off, not needing to finish his thought. You know how much he loves you, that he would never spare your feelings in the moment to save you from a truth you needed to hear. That was the true mark of friendship.
He places a chaste kiss on the hip his cheek was on. You feel his arms pass between you and the sheets hoisting you out of bed. You silently curl into his chest, compiling with his movements as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You press your face in his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of clean laundry.
“I’m going to get you into the car,” he utters gently against the top of your head. “Just wait here; let me pack a bag for you.”
Finally given the opportunity to calm your sobbing, a slow, deep rage burns at the edges of your heart. You were supposed to… oh my god, the wedding.
You look down at the black screen of your phone, quickly opening the family group chat for the wedding; your family, his family, and all your friends present in the group. Everyone will know what he did to you. Your mind is blinded by fury as you type a message, short and sweet, and send it without hesitation;
You exhale sharply through your nose, slumping against the door in Satoru’s passenger seat as the last ounce of energy left you. You barely register Satoru throwing a bag of items into the back seat, buckling into the driver’s seat, and pulling out of the driveway. Your tired hands manage to shut down your phone, missing the frantic messages and notifications.
“Please answer the phone! I can explain!”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
You feel the warmth of the hand on your thigh leave as you pull into Satoru’s driveway. “Do you need help getting in?” he shoots you a concerned look when you don’t answer.
Gojo sees you pull your legs up to your chest on the seat, pulling the blanket he’d put over you before leaving tighter around your face. You had stopped crying, thankfully, but a heavy silence followed as you stared out the window not making the slightest noise on the way to his house.
He doesn’t push the subject, knowing you have a habit of withdrawing into yourself when stressed. He moves to bring the bag he had packed for you inside, but your hand flies to his, stopping him in his tracks. “P-please don’t leave m-me.” you sniffle, drawing in a shuddering breath. “You s-said you’d never let me go.”
Gojo’s face falls, your sadness carves into his heart. “Never.”
Forgetting the bags, he opens up the passenger door, leaning across your chest to undo your buckle. Gojo takes your fragile form inside, setting you in the corner of the large sectional that dominates the living room.
“I’m going to go lock up,” he starts, almost faltering when your glassy eyes look up to meet his. “I don’t want him to show up looking for you… or making a scene.”
You blink, head nodding slowly as you process the information. He was right. The last thing you wanted to see was your fiance.
Gojo makes sure to do a thorough run through of the home; locking the doors, drawing the shades, and making sure the windows are secure. He stops in the kitchen, filling up a cup with ice water for you. You’d have a headache from the crying if you didn’t rehydrate.
You flinch as you realize Satoru had approached you, lifting a glass to your lips. You latch onto the cup, gulping down the cold water greedily as you feel Satoru sit on the couch against your side.
Gojo brings his hand up to cup your cheek, fingernails slightly scratching at the skin behind your ear. Warmth blooms in his chest as he feels your head lean into his touch, a rough sigh falling from your mouth.
He shivers as the breath brushes against his bare wrist. The feeling running straight down to his cock. Running on instinct and pure adrenaline, Gojo brings his forehead to yours, noses brushing together.
“If you were mine, I never would have even thought about stepping out on you.” The confession has him rambling, “I could never live with myself. You’re so genuine and funny. You’re b-beautiful. I- I love you so much.”
“I know, Satoru.” you’re alarmed by how he had remained so serious, shocked that he hadn’t tried to make light of the situation somehow. “I love you, too.”
You said it so simply. You didn’t know. He’d show you what he means.
His other hand meets the back of your neck pulling you the final few inches until your lips meet in a fiery kiss. Gojo uses the opportunity to pour all his longing, all his desperation into his kiss, opening his mouth to tongue at your bottom lip.
A growl of approval rips through him as he feels your shock wear off and you reciprocate his actions. You feel him suddenly reach down to place both hands on your hips, hauling you to face him on his lap.
He uses his strength to grind your hips down into the growing hardness in his pants; matching the strokes of his tongue in your open mouth. He ceases his actions and pulls away from your face when he feels your pelvis picking up speed, frantically rutting into him as you chase your high.
You whimper loudly, chasing his lips before you’re stopped by a hand at the base of your throat. You mumble something under your breath.
“Say that again?” You hear him messing with the tie on your sleep shorts. Your face flushes scarlet, hesitant to drudge up the feelings you had shoved down years ago, to cross this line.
“I need you, Satoru.” you moan out, desperation taking hold. “Please, make me forget him. I want you so b-bad.”
His hands come together below you, picking you with ease as he tosses you down on to the couch. His hands rip off his clothing, his patience to be inside you running terribly thin. “Take off your shirt for me, princess.”
You do as you’re told, watching his eyes darken as he sees you’re not wearing a bra underneath. You go to remove your shorts, but are stopped when his naked form comes down to meet you, your eyes briefly catch the size of his member. You gulp harshly, how in hell… he was going to split you in half.
“Uh uh, (y/n).” his hands replacing yours at the elastic waistline. “I want to unwrap my own present.”
“Sa-Satoru.” you throw your head back feeling his hand shove its way into your slick. He quickly rubs his digits around your clit, before rushing to push past your entrance. Your back arches up off the couch.
“Saturo!”
“Hush, I’ll hurt you if I don’t stretch this sopping pussy out.” His fingers quickly scissor you open. You watch as he takes them out, sliding them into his mouth as he works your shorts all the way off.
“You taste sweeter than I imagined…” the hand in his mouth falls to his cock stroking his length.
Your eyes follow his movements, widening when you realize you hadn’t been wrong about his size. He falls over you, hands on either side of your head. Your legs spread to accommodate their presence in between them.
“I d-don’t think I ca-. It’s-”
He shushes you with his pointer finger, the taste and smell of your cunt flooding your senses as he eases his cock into you. So big, you can feel every throbbing vein pulse against your walls, spreading so thin you can barely breathe.
“You can take it. Take it for me. Please.“ His head settles in the crook of your neck. One of his hands reaches down to settle behind your knee, pushing it into the side of your chest.
He watches as your eyes as your eyes roll back, the sheer girth of his cock fucking you stupid before he even began.
“Goddamn it, baby..” He drawls, teeth bared against your neck, “So tight, had no idea you’d feel so good. So good for me. Fucking perfect, all for me.”
Your pussy is dripping around his length as he pulls out and then shoves his way back in. He sets a steady, but hard pace. Making sure you feel every thrust through your center.
Your face flushes at the embarrassingly short amount of time it takes for him to bring you to the edge. The coil snaps as he takes your other leg, pressing it down next to the first, reaching a spot that has you screaming.
You shake violently, held in the press as he adjusts, kneeling closer to you to fuck into you faster.
Satoru grins wildly down at your adorable scrunched face, taking in your high pitched shrieks and the feeling of your pussy sucking him in further, committing them to memory. His name sounds sweeter than he has ever imagined falling from your lips.
“Fuck!” He stutters, losing his rhythm. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up. You want your pussy filled to the brim, princess?” you can only manage to nod, words escaping you as he prolongs your high, not giving you a chance to come down from your orgasm.
“Fuck you’re perfect, taking me like you were always meant to…”
“I should’ve- should’ve been doing this all along.” Gojo groans deeply, a wave of pleasure traveling up his spine as he feels his balls tighten.
“All you ever needed was this, princess.” he hisses, emptying himself deep within you has he continues to fuck into you, drunk on the slick feeling of your joined arousal.
“Did I make you forget him?” Satoru smirks down at your warm pliant body.
“Wha- who are you talking about?” you pant harshly, confused by his question. You were too busy still twitching and coming down from your high.
Excellent. The snide voice in his head purrs, finally content.