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It isn’t the first time you've found yourself forcibly shoved into a guarded bedroom.
It is, however, your first time in Japan. The jujutsu community in the States is much more decentralized compared to the jujutsu community of Japan— no formal jujutsu schools or network of managers— just clusters of families that know each other from when they’ve collided tracking the same curses, and a few shittily-maintained forums formatted like early 2000s conspiracy hubs to seem inconspicuous to the unaware.
So while it is true that the whole world felt the change of energy that came with the birth of Satoru Gojo, sorcerers in the States kept their heads down, stuck to their curses, and hoped that whatever had happened in Japan, stayed in Japan.
But then you happened. Or, well, something happened to you. And your community? got greedy. And soon enough, they'd learned that the thing that had happened in Japan years ago was a person, and they have no qualms now dragging you to "meet" him. And of course the higher-ups are delighted to be presented with the opportunity for another limitless user, especially one who seems so docile, so... moldable. Someone obedient. Someone they can use.
And now…
“He's ready for you.”
You don't know what they've told him.
You have trouble making eye contact and speaking to others even under normal circumstances, and here you are, entirely too close to the strongest sorcerer of your generation for your liking, expected to…
They usually never even let you catch a breath to be brave and step in yourself. It’s always a nudge that swings heavily behind you like a command, and most take pleasure in knowing it.
"I, uh. I think we— I think we have to. um ..." tears form at the corner of your eyes. At best this part is always embarrassing; at worst, humiliating.
"Well you're stealing my technique, so shouldn't I get to do whatever I want with you?"
“I'm offering a very generous donation by meeting with you here today. You wouldn't deny me, would you?”
“You've already been used, I don't see what the problem is to give me more, you know?”
And it's not like anyone outside would disagree, when they’re the ones who sent you in and locked the door.
And then with his blindfold– it's not like you would've been able to bear looking into his eyes to say it anyway, but still– he has the privilege of being fully closed off to you.
And yet with his six eyes he can see you, and is about to have all of you, and you can’t even tell what he thinks of it. If he’s even looking.
But, maybe things will be different? Once you're limitless? Will they still touch you and make you… Could they even? Could this be the last one? Maybe it's okay, then, if it’s- maybe it won't be so–
Faintly, somewhere in the fog of your spiraling, you are surprised he is still on the other side of the room. He tilts his head like a puppy, facing you.
"Let me try something.”
You are stunned back into reality– though his tone seems, gentle? He takes the first step to where you tremble still touching the door, pulling his hands from his pockets and showing them bare when he catches you looking.
“Wanna see me? Would that help?”
He crouches down in front of you, maneuvering his head in a way that places the blindfold in easy reach of your hand.
“I don't mind.”
Oh, his voice is just…
Your hand lifts to brush his temple before slipping the blindfold up his forehead exposing one eye and then the other without removing it all the way.
Oh, his eyes, they're like miracles– hey no, remember where you are. And why. He is not your friend.
He dips his head and stands slowly; your arm falls back to your side with the blindfold in hand.
But his eyes… and everything else… he's so pretty…
He is so much taller than you, though he does seem to be hunching a bit to seem less imposing.
Every time he moves, he does so as if through honey– making sure you have plenty of time to track his intentions. His hand takes his blindfold back from where you were shakily holding it in yours, and he draws it up your arm, eventually looping it around his wrist to free his fingers as they settle on your shoulder. Your eyes follow as his other hand lifts to do the same.
Are you under a spell!? (Are you cursed?)
His hands slowly wander from your tense shoulders to the collar of your blouse. He pulls it aside to expose the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck and leans in; you can feel rather than hear him breathing, hot puffs that raise gooseflesh all over your body like a wave.
You can't help but lean into him, against his bare chest, and sigh. He places a soft kiss on your neck before kissing his way to your shoulder. This is so alien to you; no one else has ever done this. No one else ever cared about your comfort. Your pleasure. Why isn't he just ... taking what he wants?
He slowly ghosts his fingers down your arm, then back under it, then down your side. Your stomach flutters as he reaches your hips and continues smoothing his fingers down the line of your body to your knee then back up. Slowly, teasing at the hem of your shirt as he does. He lightly, ever so lightly, teases the strip of flesh he exposes and finally you moan.
He unfolds his legs and pulls you closer, both hands now wandering your body. You lean back into his touch, settling against his body once more and realize, surprised, he's not even hard.
Wait, does he not like me? Am I not pretty enough?
All of it's pretend; remember what this is. He doesn't want you, but he has to have you– that's how this works. He'll do whatever he has to to–
But he's so… and it feels so…
He stops, having felt your body stiffen. "Is this okay?"
You find yourself suddenly self conscious. He's paying attention to you? He asked you a question?
You bite your lip; eventually you nod.
He turns you back to catch your eyes in a way that says he expects a verbal response, but doesn't want to spook you by asking again.
"No! I mean, yes it's okay, it's,” a breath, “I meant that no, you don't have to stop... please."
Hey! Why are you like this, why do you care? Aren't you supposed to not want this?
The jerk chuckles through your internal conflict. "I see.” He tilts his head in appraisal, and leans his neck back a bit to try and create a little space for you.
“We don't really have to do this, you know. They told me you might be shy, but not unwilling. I suppose I should've asked you myself by now before–”
Oh, and you'd thought of this too– that he might just refuse. The others were different, they didn't have the whole world at their feet, they just saw a chance to use a body free from personal consequence and took it, but Satoru Gojo…
He could put all the blame on you for not being worthy of his technique…
You didn't know what would happen to you then.
Instinctively your jaw clenches.
"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you," you snap before you can stop yourself. "Then you can keep being the chosen one, no sharing, no competition?"
He pulls away and you instantly regret losing his touch. But instead of shoving you off him, he laughs.
He's behind you now, curling his chin over your shoulder to speak into the hollow of your throat.
"I like your bite, but I'd still be the chosen one, baby. Only one pair of six eyes can exist at a time, those you won't be able to copy." A kiss, and a squeeze to your upper arms. "Though once you have limitless, you'll be chosen too– my chosen." He moved so his lips would now ghost against your ear. "I wouldn't let just anyone take limitless from me, you know."
Like you'd suspected, but… what makes you…?
He shifts away from your body to give you space to think without him touching you. "But I am being serious. This doesn't have to happen if you don't choose me too. I have pull here; I can make them back off."
He's… is he being earnest?
“You don't have to be forced again, with anyone– and I don't just mean me. I can protect you. From all of them, if you need.”
You turn and make a point of staring into his eyes for a pause too long.
Softly, "Satoru, may I have your cursed technique please?"
A little smile.
“You're sure?”
“You're the only one who's ever given me a choice. That was already enough.”
“But?”
“I-if… if I choose you, will you choose me too?”
Now, a smirk.
“You want me to keep you, copycat?”
You could hardly breathe.
“Yes.”
&
"S- aah! to-ru... y- you have to come in me..."
"I have to come in you, huh? I don't have to do anything–I'm Satoru Gojo, I can do whatever I want. Why don't you beg me for the privilege, hm? Beg me to give you my come so you can get stronger."
You squeal as his words light you up, and you squirm and cling to press more of your skin to his to try and encourage him to bury himself deeper so you have more and more of him to take.
Naturally, as you wiggle and hump he slows until he is holding you still, voice ominous but tinted smug– "Now, that's not what I told you to do, was it?"
You push against him, weakly, not really meaning it, but your face feels hot and you don’t want his eyes on you, watching you try to speak aloud what you want and words you really mean. It’s all choked up in your chest before you can really think through whether it'll leave your lips or not.
How has your technique gone from a curse to a miracle in so little time?
How is it he used his eyes to see you and then liked what he saw?
How are you trusting him so easily?
You peek at him watching you and waiting, a cheeky smile and posture relaxed where he lets his weight sop over you. You whisper, "Hey Satoru," your eyes go wide and serious, "would you date me?"
Again he laughs aloud, and you feel the shake of his body in yours. He kisses your cheekbone and noses at your ear.
"Yeah, we can go wherever you want once you've had enough of me here to take what you need."
You give him an oddly decisive nod.
"Okay," you face him full on and stare into his eyes, your lips all soft and sweet, voice like windchimes.
"Can- Satoru, may I please have your come now?"
He nuzzles your nose with his, his expression one of gooey bliss.
"Mm, where, pretty girl?"
"Inside me," back to a whisper.
"And why?"
"So I'll be limitless like you."
He gives you his first thrust since he'd stopped you earlier.
"If you don't keep reminding me what you want me to do, I might forget, you know."
In other moments, the tease might've made you clam up, but stars are you enchanted by his care in control– you can only think to obey. You look to him in earnest as he gives your pussy little pumps.
"Come in me, Satoru."
"Mmyeah?"
"Mhm! Pretty please?"
"I can't hear you," he grins and slows his pace so he drags his cock out excruciatingly slowly.
You don't know if you want to choke the man or kiss him until you die from oxygen starvation.
"Sa-saaah," you manage with a breathy whine.
"You can do it," he encourages, continuing to torture your hungry cunt with long, deep strokes.
"Satoru, please. I n-need your cum! P-please, spill it all in me!"
"Please, please, please..." You babbled as he worked you boneless, saliva nearly dripping from your parted lips between the begs and moans.
"Cum in me, cum in me, cum in meee-!”
“So noisy! So needy! So sweet! My perfect match.”
After two loads, he has you clutching at your womb and crying from how good you feel, pussy twitching like it’ll never know life without Satoru’s touch again— (which, he could do that, couldn’t he? Keep his infinity on your clit as long as he wants— goodness, you wouldn’t even be able to stand, let alone walk straight—)
After his third load, all you have left in you (that isn’t cum) is a thin whine as you rock yourself side to side into the cushiness of the bed sleepily trying to escape the demand of his hips. He thinks he might like to see your lips white with him too while whining so weak like that, but figures that’s worth waiting another night or two for. You’ve been through a lot today; you need rest.
&
You have done more than steal the blankets and his gift in the night– you've cocooned yourself in Gojo's comforter, otherwise naked and held securely in his arms as the heater for his own bare body.
Once you've blinked awake, you wiggle a bit in your cocoon to fully appreciate how immaculately cozy you feel, since you can’t do much else by ways of movement anyway.
Gojo groans awake after enough of your squirming.
"Good morning there, little thief. How's it feel to be limitless?"
"Mm, it doesn't." You rub your face against the wall of the cocoon against his chest. "Takes some time for a new technique to synergize with my cursed energy before I can use it. Until it does, I'm basically human– I can't access any of it at all."
"Huh." He hugs you to him tighter and rests his chin in your hair. "How long?"
"Depends on the technique." You close your eyes and melt into all the places he is touching around you. "I imagine it'll take longer than normal with yours, since you're definitely not normal, honored one."
"Mm, honored two, soon." He wraps his legs around your cocoon and rolls you over to the side. You now face a mirror where you can see how smug he looks squeezing the bundle of you with just your face poking out of the comfort. You duck down to hide inside the fluff so you don’t have to look at yourself anymore. It’s too soft to be true– but it’s true.
When he speaks again it’s muffled like he wants there to be a chance you don’t hear.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you until it comes back."
&
Whisper quiet, two and a half weeks after your first, a-hem, meeting, you're kneeling in bed with your face above Gojo's, having scooched up close to try and wake him without touching him.
"Pssssssssssssht! Satoru! Hey wake up!" You whistle some birdsong next, and one eye pokes open to pin you with blue, not terribly pleased to be present in the morning.
"Satoru, look!" You hold up your palm, nothing seeming out of the ordinary if anyone else were to look, but you know he'll be able to see what you’re so new to feeling.
His eyes shoot open as his torso shoots up, knocking you off your knees and onto your back, Satoru still holding your hand, or, the space around your hand, up to his face.
"You've got it, you've really got it!"
You lick your lips and flick your eyes down to them. "Limitless sure takes its time, huh."
Satoru drops your wrist and instead yanks you back up to him by your shoulders, the infinities in front of each of your noses mingling just apart from one another.
"Let it go already so I can kiss you."
"You first!"
"Nu uh, I've had it longer, you first!"
"Make me!"
He does.
And he does, and he does.