Work Text:
Uta had always thought that his job was great.
He was an idol, one of the most famed and beloved in Japan.
He’d started off as a naive rookie brat, and clawed his way up to infinite stardom through sheer willpower and maybe more than a few friends. It hadn’t been easy, but he likes to think he’d been blessed with both luck and good company, because before his solo career, he’d been part of a group. Though their contracts are now long over and they've parted ways, he still remains close with his old bandmates, and knows that without the strange bond they’d forged through their time together, he wouldn’t have become the kind of person capable to withstand the kind of life he lives now.
So really, he’s had a pretty good run, he thinks. His life had been going well and he had a long and successful career ahead of him.
So why does it feel like it’s all falling apart?
Gojo Satori.
This is the name of Japan’s God .
…Not literally, but she might as well be.
Heir to the Gojo financial dynasty that has been influential in Japan’s political circles since before the Heian era, she owns so much money that the very concept of her wealth is an urban legend in Japan. It’s too ridiculous. No one knows exactly how much she’s worth, or even how much her family owns at this point. Too much time has passed since the Gojos took hold of their seat among the Great Three Families of Japan and stayed. She’s just that obscenely wealthy, and has been since her crystalline blue eyes opened all those years ago in Kyoto, 1989.
Now, this is all very well and good, what does it mean? For both Japan and herself?
Well, luckily, the general public has nothing to worry about. Unlike her predecessors of the last ten generations, Gojo Satori is actually competent. In fact, she might just be the most competent person to have ever been born. There isn’t a thing on Earth she doesn’t know, or can’t figure out, or of course, use her insanely deep well of inheritance money to find out.
So, the people of Japan are in very safe hands.
But for her, things are not so much the same.
Gojo Satori is quite erratic in matters of mind and heart. She doesn’t really understand the concept of humility or consideration or even basic empathy. She’s been the only thing that mattered to her entire world since she’d been born, and so, who else would think differently?
She is the gift that keeps on giving, and so she deserves the world’s favor now, that is what she thinks.
But what, in her opinion, would be an appropriate form of repayment, you ask?
That, she would say, a coy smile playing at her lips, is her little secret.
Satori is in her bedroom when the idea creeps up on her.
She’s just laying on her bed, Pyjama shirt skirting above her tits so she can massage them with one hand, and her legs held wide open with a bar so she can comfortably finger herself to the new batch of Uta’s workout session pictures she’d taken today, her current fixation in the long list of all the different ways she loves watching him.
She stares hard, almost cross-eyed at the sweat-sheen of his hairless biceps holding the dumbbells, her fingers pushing deep inside with no care for gentleness as her mind conjures the feeling of him holding her legs up with one hand as he pounds into her relentlessly, grunting and whining for her like an animal in that honeyed voice of his.
She gasps when her attention moves from his arm to his face, the look of absolute concentration as he unknowingly stares right into the lens of her camera - and subsequently now, into her eyes - sending her hurtling over the edge with a frenzied laugh-scream of ecstasy and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
She floats for a while, in the after-glow of that remarkable feeling of her high, and she allows her mind to wander in her lust-addled thoughts. They are all, of course, about Uta. Her Uta-kun . The one and only man that Gojo Satori would both bend for and take it, the only one she considers a suitable price for all the world’s great inconsiderations towards her.
She thinks of his wide smile and kind eyes, the persona of his that is always a steady shoulder for his fans to cry on (no one but her deserves to be in his proximity, let alone touch him), she thinks of his flustered anger when he meets an overly zealous fan (mongrels that didn’t know their place beneath him), and the way he would sometimes become emotional and cry during concerts on special days like his sister Shoko’s birthday, and make a wish, just for her (his wishes should only, ever be made for her ).
To Satori, Uta-kun is her sole balm in the world. Ever since her first year of high school, when she’d watched him debut and sing his heart out, she’d only ever had eyes for him. He is the one thing that heals her from all the terrible and worthless pests that drag her down and claw at her power. The mere parasites suckling on her lifeblood for a chance to live just that little bit longer.
But Uta-kun isn’t like them.
He is independent and stable, and he always says he wants to take her stress away and make it his own (he has such a way with words), he constantly worries for her health and makes sure to pick up her every call, just so he doesn’t worry her. He even keeps their love a secret, because he wants her all to himself.
Her Uta-kun is the only one in the world that cares about her. That loves her, he’s told her himself!
So she thinks such devotion must be rewarded. Such a good deed, by such a good boy , must be received with a prize of equal value.
And what greater joy could she give him than her hand? What possible happiness could he covet, but her?
There is nothing surely, that he could desire but her, Gojo Satori.
“B-But– Mei-san! You’ve gotta be joking! A dating rumour? With the heiress of the fucking Gojo clan ? I’ve never even met the woman! How on earth would I have found the time to date her ? With marriage in mind, no less!” Uta’s voice booms against his bedroom walls, bewilderment and disbelief clear as he demands answers from his manager and former band-mate, Mei Mei.
He hears a long sigh on the other end, Mei Mei’s smooth and deep voice taking on an edge of exhaustion.
“Your guess is as good as mine, Uta. But there’s really nothing we can do about it. Gojo Satori is, by modern standards, the equivalent to the Goddess Amaterasu-sama herself. Her word is law , kid. And she’s here in the office, waiting for you with a proposal, So I suggest you get your ass here pronto.”
The line cuts before he can get any more words out, and he is left to stare at his blank screen, mouth agape in shock.
He sits like that for a few minutes before the severity of the situation kick-starts his heart, and he stumbles out of bed, nearly tripping himself in his haste to get ready.
He can’t make a bad impression on her, is the only thing he can really think. Nothing good ever came to anyone who’d made a bad impression on her after all, and no matter how successful Uta is, he has only gotten this far by listening to his gut and the advice of those who’d blazed the path before him.
And they had only ever bowed in the face of Gojo Satori.
Satori is humming to herself, bouncing her leg on top of her knee, trying not to externalise her nerves too much, when the door suddenly bursts open and in rushes the man of the hour - and her dreams.
She can’t help the smile that brightens her face in his very presence, gleeful and cherubic, the beauty of the ages gracing the earth once more as her love returns to her side.
“Uta!” She squeals as she propels herself from the office chair to jump on him, her legs wrapping around his waist and arms around his shoulders. She giggles, lovestruck, at the way his hands instinctively settle on her hips and bottom, his hold polite and gentlemanly but secure, so she doesn’t fall. Even when she surprises him like this, he would never let her down, would he?
As she moves her face back so she can meet his eyes (for the first time!), she makes sure her expression is perfect, wanting him to fall even deeper in love with her than she knows he already is.
He stares back at her in wide-eyed and muted shock, his eyes moving from her legs around his waist to her eyes in rapid succession that she can’t help the laugh she lets out at his confusion.
“Oh, Uta! I’m so happy to see you!” She squeals again before hugging his face directly into her chest (grown with age, her boobs are now well-sized for a 28 year old). She ignores his splutter and instead focuses on the way his hands tighten against her body, loving the way his muscles feel as they coil and press into her curves, feeling herself become slick and aroused at the mere idea of their close contact. But to experience it in real life….She feels like she might just squirt all over him!
He splutters again, no doubt feeling the soft pulse of her core against his stomach (She’s gone commando under her skirt, just to make sure he knows exactly how much she appreciates him), and finally rips his face from her chest and puts some distance between them, though her legs are still tight around him - a boa constrictor’s embrace.
He begins to speak, though Satori isn’t listening much to him, too distracted at the new reality of actually being in her Uta-kun’s embrace!
She continues to stare at him, going goo-goo eyed and melting in the face of his stoic stone-like charm, the cuts and sharpness of his face delectable and exactly to her preference. Even the scar on his face complimented his beauty (she’d given it to him after all, even if he didn’t know it yet. They were connected by more than just fate, at her whim).
“-Gojo-sama! Gojo-sama! Are you listening?” She hears Uta’s impatient voice call for her, and her heart is ready to burst. The angry Uta’s voice was calling out for her! But, he can just call her Satori, it isn’t like they’re strangers, after all. In fact, they're lovers. As close as two people can be. Twin flames, belonging to each other in every and any reality and possibility.
“Yes, yes, Uta! Of course I was listening!” She lies in a placating tone, interrupting him when he tries to speak again. With men, it’s never good if you let them go on for too long. It only complicates matters that have always been simple. Which is why Satori shuts down every subsequent attempt of Uta’s to steer the conversation to their “rumour”.
It soon wouldn’t be a rumour, and Uta will be able to rest well, knowing he doesn’t have to hide his love for her anymore.
“Now, now, Uta. Don’t kick up a fuss. Your Satori-chan has everything under control, so all you have to do is shut up and nod your head when I tell you to, m’kay baby?” She coos, bringing her hands from over his shoulders to cradle his face, bringing it closer until she can comfortably land a big wet kiss on his nose.
She relishes in his flinching at her boldness, and the way he tries seriously to get her off him, but she’s much stronger than him, even if she is a woman.
The decorative pieces such as his manager and her lawyer are too busy finalising her proposal and contract to bother with Uta’s fussing, so she takes the chance to hush him and whisper in his ear reassuringly as she finds the first of what she hopes to be many tears, drip from his eye and onto her waiting tongue.
“Shh…shh, Uta-kun, there’s no need to be worried. I know you were scared all this time, alone and with no one to help you out of your miserable idol life. The way you had to give up your freedom to be a plaything for the masses. It was so unfair, wasn’t it baby?”
She doesn’t even notice his head attempting to shake, unable to in the vice grip she has on his head as her hands rest on each cheek.
“But you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Satori-chan is here now, and I’m here to save you from that ungrateful bunch. With me, you’ll fly free as a bird! With me, you’ll want for nothing. So don’t cry, and show me a smile instead, hm?”
It takes a while for reality to set in for him, everything since he’d entered Mei-san’s office seeming like a strange and abstract nightmare.
But it was real. And he wasn’t going to get out of it anytime soon, if the way Mei-san’s blank face of defeat was looking to him, he’d say that he’s just been sold to the highest bidder.
Goj- Satori’s french tip nails dig into the scarred flesh of his cheek, demanding his attention, a saccharine but pressuring smile tight on her glossy pink lips. He continues to stare at her for a little longer, acquainting himself with the devil he’d been sacrificed to.
And when she tells him to smile, he does, even when the feeling of her tongue laving over the stream of tears on his face make him want to vomit and scream, he just smiles, and says “Thank you, Satori-chan. I love you. I missed you. I can’t wait to be with you”.
Because if he’d learnt anything as an idol, it’s to pretend. Even when the walls are closing in on you with no way out, pretend it’s all okay, and survive another day.