Chapter Text
"You make me feel blue, you don't make me feel super."
Valentines Day had draped itself over Kyoto Tech, where the corridors echoed with the laughter of students and the occasional buzz of excitement. In her intimate class of three, Utahime sensed the subtle exchange of glances between Miwa and Muta, a nostalgic reminder of her own youthful enthusiasm for the day. It was for that reason, she would conclude the class early; she wanted to grant her students the freedom to savour the occasion.
“I think I’ll wrap things up a bit early today. No homework either, because, well, it’s Valentine’s Day. I want you all to enjoy your evening,” Utahime expressed with a warm smile.
Mai chuckled lightly as she swiftly began packing her bag. “I’ll be in my dorm munching on crisps and probably watching Love Actually…all by my lonesome,” she quipped, injecting a touch of humour in the moment.
Utahime’s heart swelled with appreciation when Miwa, her energetic steps causing her blue hair to sway, offered a box of giri-choco. “Oh, Miwa-chan, thank you so much!” Utahime pouted with genuine warmth. Miwa’s thoughtfulness never failed to touch her deeply.
With a smile, Miwa explained, “No problem at all. These are for you, but feel free to enjoy them with Gojo-sensei. I hope you both have a wonderful evening. By the way, speaking of Gojo-sensei, I half expected him to make a grand appearance today. You know, he has this knack for pulling off extravagant gestures on Valentine’s Day. Remember last year?”
Utahime’s thoughts drifted back to Gojo’s audacious intrusion into her class last year bearing flowers and chocolates and love heart shaped balloons. It had been embarrassing and disruptive and yet she found it endearing. But this year, the anticipated warmth of his presence was absent.
“I’ll be sure to share these with him Miwa. I warned him not to turn up today.” Utahime found herself offering a gentle fabrication. It was a deliberate shield, an attempt to spare Miwa from feeling sorry for her, to conceal the quiet loneliness she was harbouring today.
“Haha,” Miwa’s laughter resonated as she bid her farewell, trailing after Muta and Mai, leaving Utahime alone to her thoughts in the hushed classroom.
Gojo hadn’t deliberately ghosted her on Valentine’s Day, instead, he was entangled in work halfway across the world, aiding jujutsu sorcerers in Brazil somewhere. Still, Utahime couldn’t help the sting of bitterness. She understood Gojo’s duty to the world, the colossal responsibilities that claimed his time and attention. Yet, it didn’t negate the longing for his presence, especially on a day meant for shared affection.
Utahime at the beginning of their relationship three years ago had assured Gojo that she understood his obligations, but the passage of time was now revealing fissures in her tolerance. The growing discomfort simmered beneath her acceptance. Gojo had said he’d be back three days ago, but he wasn’t and the unkept promise of his return only exacerbated her emotions. Aside from that he wasn’t answering his texts or calls, leaving her to feel abandoned.
With a sigh, she packed her own bag, tucking the giri-choco into a safe pocket. Retrieving her phone, she felt a pang of disappointment upon seeing no recent notifications, especially not from the person she longed to hear from.
As she began her half-hour walk home, each unanswered call to Gojo, added to her worries.
She could endure quiet from everyone else, but Gojo Satoru’s silence was torture.
By the time she reached her apartment door, Utahime was drained. The problem wasn’t that Gojo was away on Valentine’s Day; it was more his failure to maintain contact, especially after assuring her of his return three days prior. She knew that work had never hindered Gojo from keeping in touch, often arrogantly picking up calls even in the midst of battles—an act that earnt him reprimands for recklessness.
“Ouch,” Utahime exclaimed as her boot nudged against a small parcel leaning against her apartment entrance. Retrieving it, she carried the package inside and carefully unwrapped it, revealing more giri-chocos and a familiarly elegant card bearing Nanami’s calligraphy. A soft smile crept upon her face.
Despite their unusual beginning—barely interacting during their high school days, with Shoko being closer to Nanami—fate had intervened, reuniting them seven years after her graduation in a small Danish bakery in Tokyo. Learning of his departure from the jujutsu world, Utahime made it her mission to bring him back, she was a firm believer in their duty towards non-sorcerers. Since then, their friendship had blossomed, Nanami becoming one of her closest friends.
Appreciating his thoughtful gesture, Utahime made a mental note to express her gratitude to Nanami later through a text. His kindness always touched her, although it occasionally sparked minor disagreements with Gojo. Gojo’s occasional jealousy over her relationship with Nanami held no weight in Utahime’s eyes. She knew, as did Gojo, that their bond was purely and genuinely platonic.
“From Nanamin, huh?” Utahime almost screamed but caught herself, standing in her kitchen was Gojo Satoru: blindfolded, white hair, tall, beautiful, and frightening. His use of teleportation still managed to catch her off guard even after three years together. His ability to pop up anywhere and everywhere was something she could never quite get used to.
Utahime fixed him with a stare, “Yeah, from Nanami. He’s always considerate like that, never forgets about me,” she replied making sure to convey dismay.
If Gojo caught the edge of her discontent, he chose not to acknowledge it. Instead, he casually strolled closer to her, that familiar mischievous grin dancing on his lips. “Of course, he’s always been the thoughtful type. And you look adorable when you get gifts,” he teased, attempting to lighten the mood as he eyed the box of giri-chocos.
Utahime, her disappointment simmering just beneath the surface, redirected the conversation. “Is your phone broken or something?” she queried, a hint of reproach in her voice. “It’s only that you failed to answer my text messages but could post pictures of Christ The Redeemer in Rio de Janeiro.”
She refused to let Gojo sidestep the issue, unwilling to be swayed by humour or an overflow of gifts. The apologies that often flowed from Gojo’s lips lacked genuine remorse; they were empty words uttered without true meaning. She had implored him to stop saying ‘sorry’ if he didn’t mean it. And though he attempted to rectify situations through humour or lavish gifts when he knew he was at fault, the underlying issue remained unaddressed.
“Utahime—” Gojo began, his voice tinged with an attempt at explanation.
“Forget it Satoru,” she interrupted. “I’m not going to argue with you. It’s been over a month since we’ve seen each other and when you are here, we barely see each other. I’m exhausted. I just want to take a shower, eat, and sleep,” she said, her voice tightening with exasperation.
“Uta’ I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay? Work piled up, and you know I prefer calling instead of texting. But if we do text, I prefer proper conversations, not forced one-word replies. I don’t want a half-ass conversation.”
Utahime turned sharply, her anger reaching its peak. “I’m not asking for long conversations! A simple text saying you’re busy and you’ll call later would suffice, instead of completely ignoring me for three days and then casually posting on Instagram!” With that, she briskly made her way into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
“Utahime!” Gojo’s voice echoed persistently after her, but she remained resolute, seeking solace in her bedroom.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing Gojo’s silhouette as he stood in the doorway. “Utahime, we haven’t seen each other for a while. Let’s not do this.”
Utahime’s eyes widened in disbelief as her gaze remained fixed to the ceiling. How could he fail to comprehend her hurt? Wasn’t it evident.
For heaven’s sake, she didn’t need this right now! The emotional strain, the frustration of being overlooked, it was all becoming too much to bear.
As if on cue, she sat up from her bed and looked at him pointedly. “You have my undivided attention,” she said sarcastically hoping he would take the chance to explain himself. She knew she was being rude, and he’d probably take offence, but she didn’t care. Now he would raise his voice, tell her how difficult she was, spiralling into their usual pattern of saying things they didn’t truly mean.
“Good,” he responded, surprising her with his unexpected calmness and lack of confrontation. His composed reaction threw her off guard, contrasting with the usual fiery exchanges that followed such tense moments.
Utahime acted on instinct, her body moving without conscious thought as she flung herself towards Gojo. The suddenness of her movement caught him off guard, causing both of them to stagger back. Her arms instinctively braced against his chest, the impact rippling through them as they steadied themselves against the wall.
Surprisingly, she noted that his Infinity was down. It wasn’t a rare occurrence when he was around her, as he always kept it down, showcasing a level of trust, knowing he was safe in her presence.
Utahime found herself staring directly up at Gojo, who remained pinned to the wall, hands braced on either side of his head. Her hands still pressed firmly against his work uniform.
“Did you miss me ’Hime?” he asked, a devilish grin painting his lips.
“No,” she replied, stopping her real feelings from creeping up her throat and satisfying his curiosity.
“Really because the tension right now is—” her fingers became fists as they clenched his uniform. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but she quickly brought her right hand up to cover it, not wanting to hear a word.
“I didn’t miss you. In fact, I even forgot about you.” The bitter lie flew from her lips.
In response he bit her palm; hard.
She hissed, bringing her injured hand down to inspect. “Did you just bite me?” she snapped, and he shrugged with a smirk.
“Also,” he started, removing his blindfold revealing his omniscient cerulean orbs. “You’re such a goddamned liar Utahime.” He shook his head staring at her as if he could see into the depths of her very soul. “You missed me so much, and why are you acting like that? You usually like it when I bite you.”
“Can you be serious for one minute!” she spat grabbing his face with intentions to shake his head and see if there was anything in his skull.
“I am,” he answered licking the middle of her palm which he held trapped against his face before mirroring the animosity in her eyes.
Utahime’s eyes drifted shut as his warm tongue slid along the injury he had inflicted on her moments ago. A soft moan escaped her lips.
“Utahime, I didn’t mean to ignore your messages. I was on a flight back for part of the time, and then there was an unforeseen stopover in Canada due to a curse in an Indigenous community I had to take care of it. Please don’t be mad at me. I missed you so much, you’ve no idea. Are you… are going to leave me ‘Hime?” His voice cracked with vulnerability. “It won’t happen again. Please don’t leave, I won’t let you. You’re my balance, my support, my wild, my calm…my lifeline. That’s why one day, I’m going to marry you Utahime.” Utahime froze at his words, even with her eyes closed, her distress was evident. A myriad of expressions crossed her face as she tried to conceal it.
No, he needed to understand that he couldn’t just say things and expect her to stay, expect her to forgive him. Refusing to succumb to the rush of emotions stirred by his plea. Utahime steeled herself. She couldn’t simply overlook his actions and the impact they had on her. She withdrew her hand from his grasp in a swift and resolute motion, not yielding to the pull of his emotions. Without a word, she turned away, heading decisively for the bathroom. But Gojo yanked her back against him. Her back landed on his chest, and her ass brushed against the hardness of his cock.
She stiffened.
Although layers of clothing separated them, the position was making her flustered. After all she’d gone without Gojo for a month and when she was needy, she tended to get more frustrated than warranted. Gojo wrapped his hands around her waist, his hands moving downwards to brush the top of her thighs through the hakama material. She felt the deep rumble in his chest before he opened his mouth to speak. And when he did, the sound caressed her nape.
“I love you,” he declared.
Utahime didn’t reply. The force of his presence, his overwhelming masculine aura, exerted an almost tangible pressure, making it difficult for her to maintain her composure. Feeling as fragile as a broken flower stem, she sagged against him.
“I love you too, Satoru. But you have to try and be better.” Utahime’s heart clenched. She found herself unable to resist Gojo’s charm and depth of his emotions. Despite her earlier adamancy , she felt her anger dissipating in the face of his sincerity. He had a way with words, a talent for breaking down her defences, and an uncanny ability to reach the core of her feelings. Turning around, she wrapped her arms around him, as she held him close, she felt the tension melt away from his body, his frame relaxing against hers almost instantly.
Utahime’s heart skipped with anticipation as Gojo pressed himself against her. The closer he was, the more her cursed energy surged. It felt as if she were a live wire, charged with an overwhelming amount of energy that needed an outlet.
“I’ve missed you…I need you.” His eyes darkened with lust and Utahime blushed, catching on to what he was implying.
“I’ve missed you too.”
Four simple words and that was all it took for Gojo to pounce on her like a lost voyager discovering the guiding beacon a lighthouse in the midst of a storm, offering salvation in the eleventh hour. He advanced on Utahime, gripping the back of her thighs, and hitching her legs around his waist. Utahime clung desperately to his neck. Since his arrival, the tension between them had been slowly building and she knew he’d noticed it, and now finally, a tantalising release was on the horizon. His lips met hers, and instantly, her curiosity slaked. The taste of Gojo’s lips was everything—candy floss, mint and everything good in life.
A moan escaped Utahime the second she felt his lips on her neck, his hands tugging her white kosode out of her hakama pants to remove them and gain access to her collarbone. He guided them to the bed a smirk painting his lips as she fell back onto the soft sheets, her naked breasts filling his vision.
“No bra today?” he raised an eyebrow, his cool breath caressing her hard nipples.
“Favourite bra is due for the laundry,” Utahime answered, sighing deeply as his hands gripped her arms to hold her in place whilst his tongue began to flit across her left nipple. Utahime watched him through low lashes, moaning when he flattened his tongue against the pink bud.
He moved to her right breast his breath wafting over her sensitive areolas, it was almost painful, but he didn’t abandon the left one, instead his large hand covered it, earning himself another moan as he worked his fingers expertly.
He pulled away their lips finding one another’s, this time the kisses were deeper, desperate, more heat, more explosive. Everything felt raw, wild, and vulnerable. His kisses moved from her lips to her earlobe where he sucked and then nibbled. Utahime giggled and Gojo chuckled.
“See, you do like it when I bite you,” he whispered his voice husky making her shiver. Utahime’s brown irises darkened watching him pull off her hakama trousers leaving her in just her panties.
“Shut up and fuck me Satoru,” she demanded.
Gojo’s eyes glowed in the darkness of the room.
“I’m gonna fuck that lil’ attitude right out of you ‘Hime,” he promised his lips tracing down the length of her abdomen.
Yes, that’s what Utahime wanted him to do, she wanted him to take her for everything she had.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asked confidently, as his tongue pressed against her clit through the cotton fabric of her panties. Utahime almost snapped her legs shut but Gojo was quick with his hands and pinned her thighs down, grinning wickedly up at her.
“Yes,” she admitted.
Without sparing another moment, Gojo dragged her panties down her legs discarding it to the side and then sucked on his index and middle finger before he eased them into her. Forcing her to spread her legs to accommodate him and his tongue that was circling and sucking her clit.
Utahime’s hips bucked hands gripping the Egyptian cotton off her sheets. How could she have ever let him leave? For a month no less. Her moans echoed throughout her apartment as she writhed and twisted beneath him. She wouldn’t be able to look her neighbours in the eye tomorrow. Gojo was like a pirate searching for treasure, he had buried himself in her fleshly folds.
“I’m close,” Utahime gasped, feeling her walls fluttering against his fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut as he continued his slow torturous drags, replacing his tongue with his thumb on her swollen bud, with soft yet quick precise movements.
And just as she reached her peak ready to release and welcome the feeling of ecstasy, Gojo abruptly pulled out.
“Satoru,” she whined.
He chuckled licking her arousal off his fingers. “Told you we’re going to fix your attitude problem. You didn’t even give me a hug or a kiss when you saw me, straight to telling me off.” His eyes searched hers.
“I guess I’m in trouble now then,” she surmised. Anticipation buried itself within her, she knew how rough Gojo could get and honestly, she needed it, and wanted it.
“Yes, you are my love,” he replied.
Utahime only smiled and reached for his clothes tugging at the zip and yanking it off, followed by his undershirt, pulling it over his head granting her the sight of his bare chest. Utahime didn’t miss the jagged scar in the middle of his torso—the one from when he was seventeen from Fushiguro Toji. His own Reverse Cursed Technique along with Shoko’s hadn’t been able to get rid of the scar not from the Inverted Spear of Heaven.
He stood up and removed his trousers and underwear tossing them to the side, exposing himself to her, girthy and long and sometimes the only thing she liked about him.
“Come here,” he muttered bearing down on her and pulling her toward him by the ankle, imprisoning her between his arms and spreading her thighs with his knees. “You were made for fucking,” he stated as he positioned himself against her entrance and then with one sharp snap of his hips he invaded her most intimate parts stretching her walls to its limit.
“Satoru,” she gasped shocked by the feeling.
He gripped both of her thighs pushing them back against her chest, ensuing a punishing pace, watching as his shaft slid in and out of her. Utahime’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, every sharp thrust was sending ripples of pleasure through her, so much so that the dull pain in the background that accompanied every assault on her core was welcome if she continued to feel like this. He continued bottoming out inside of her, his lips finding the crook of her neck where he began placing several love bites.
“Please Satoru,” she begged, but she didn’t exactly know what she was begging for, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he continued thrusting in and out of her with such intensity, his knees sinking into the mattress.
He really wanted to prove a point.
“Yes,” Gojo said his chest heaving against hers. “Come all over me, ‘Hime.”
Utahime cried out as his fingers found her throat, his palm circling the base, choking her.
He rocked into her hard, one hand on her throat and one hand digging into her hips.
Utahime whimpered at the heat coiling inside her stomach, Gojo withdrew suddenly and then re-entered her, hand leaving her hips to press against her swollen clit. She clawed at his back as she began to come around him just as he had commanded, her body falling apart.
As her cries echoed around the room, Gojo’s thrusts became sloppier stretching out her orgasm.
“Satoru, I can’t it’s too much,” Utahime pleaded, feeling overstimulated.
“No, you can Utahime you’re my girl, you can take me…fuck,” his lips found hers, devouring them like he was starving.
She was there again moaning and groaning beneath him, chest heaving as she rode out the waves of her second orgasm.
“You’re my favourite Utahime, look how beautiful you are with my hand around your neck,” he whispered against her lips and then he jerked violently emitting a series of curses, she gasped at the feel of hot liquid filling her, watching as he collapsed against her taking a well-earned deep breath.
“Feeling better?” he asked slowly sliding out of her.
“Heaps,” Utahime responded softly feeling both dazed and the stickiness of his come sliding down her thigh.
Gojo smirked his eyes glued to it, watching it travel down her leg.
“You’re everything Utahime.”