Bound In Love's Curse [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

121 ~ Hundred And Twenty-One

[L]unch was over, and though Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer alive, he still had the grind like anyone else.

He ran on three hours of sleep, took on missions only he could handle, and spent the rest of his time dedicated to his students. That was his routine—simple, predictable, and if he was being honest, a little boring. Even to himself.

At least, until you showed up.

At first glance, you didn't exactly scream 'Gojo's type.' With your disheveled hair and distant, standoffish eyes, you barely registered on his radar.

He had a thing, after all—a type he was drawn to, like a moth to a flame.

Physically, he liked his women striking. Someone who stood out, who had distinctive features that made them impossible to miss. Unusual eyes, unique angles, something that kept his attention and everyone else's.

Sure, he was all about natural beauty, but with an edge. He wasn't into that overly polished, runway-perfect look. He preferred something raw, maybe a bold fashion choice or an unexpected twist—like a piercing, a unique hair color, something that screamed individuality.

Oh, and older. Yeah, he liked his women a little more mature, seasoned, someone who had seen the world but could still keep up with his playful side. A woman who could match his chaos, but with her own fire.

Utahime would've fit the bill perfectly if he were really looking. Older? Check. Strong, determined, and with an attitude that burned hotter the more he teased her? Absolutely.

Her scar? That was a twist all on its own, something that only added to her natural beauty. And those eyes? There was always a fire in them, no matter how much he prodded, no matter how far he pushed. The flame never went out.

But personality mattered too.

He didn't want someone who'd just fall into line. No, he liked a woman who could stand on her own two feet, independent, and confident—someone who didn't need him but chose to be around anyway.

Gojo, being who he was, always attracted people who relied on him. It was refreshing to think of someone who wouldn't need to.

And of course, smart—he liked someone who could keep up with his wit, his banter. Someone who could throw it right back at him and keep him on his toes. It wasn't just about looks for him; he wanted to be intrigued, challenged. Someone resilient, strong in every sense of the word, who had gone through their own struggles and come out tougher.

But most of all? Fun. He didn't want a stick in the mud.

Life was serious enough with curses, death, and responsibilities. He wanted someone who could match his playfulness, who could make him laugh, who didn't take life too seriously. And maybe, just maybe, someone a little unpredictable, a little mysterious.

He didn't want to see everything upfront—he liked peeling back the layers, figuring out what made someone tick.

And that bothered him.

It shouldn't have. By all accounts, you weren't his usual type, not the kind of woman he would typically gravitate toward. But here he was, feeling that gnawing discomfort, that question he couldn't shake. Why you?

"You're awfully quiet, Gojo," came Nanami's flat voice, cutting through the thick silence.

After Gojo's little outburst earlier, ranting about how he didn't want to put you in harm's way, the silence that followed had been unnerving. Nanami wasn't used to Gojo being this... subdued.

It was odd. A quiet Gojo Satoru? That wasn't just unusual—it was downright unsettling.

"Ne, Nanamin?" The strongest's voice had a lazy drawl, but there was something under it, something off. "What do you think my type of woman is?"

Nanami blinked. Of all the questions Gojo could've asked, that one was about as out of left field as it got. Why was Gojo even thinking about this? And more importantly, why ask him of all people?

"You're seriously asking me this?" Nanami's tone was dry, unimpressed. "And how, exactly, do you expect me to know that?"

Gojo stretched his arms above his head, feigning a yawn. "C'mon, don't be like that. You've got good instincts."

The blonde stared at him for a long moment, as if debating whether or not to humor him. "If I had to guess, Gojo, I'd say you don't have a type. You're impulsive. You like what entertains you. The rest? You probably don't think that far."

Gojo let out a low chuckle, tipping his head back against the backrest. "Fair enough. But... y'know, I did think I had a type."

Nanami's brow quirked slightly, the hint of curiosity in his otherwise stoic face. He didn't say anything, just let the silence hang, urging Gojo to continue.

"And yet..." Gojo's gaze drifted to the side, barely glancing at Nanami, his voice quieter now. "She doesn't fit."

"You're talking about Y/N?"

"Who else?"

Nanami gave it a moment, processing the unexpected vulnerability in Gojo's tone before he asked, "Okay. Just out of curiosity. Who do you think does fit your type, then?"

The strongest sorcerer didn't hesitate. "Utahime, obviously."

"And why's that?"

Gojo's lips twitched into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Strong. Confident. The only one who doesn't fawn over me, doesn't give me the attention everyone else does. She's witty, stubborn... and beautiful in her own way. Unique."

Saying it out loud felt strange, like he was ranking Utahime above you. Just like you'd chosen Nanami over him. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, a sharp pang of jealousy he didn't like admitting.

Nanami adjusted his glasses thoughtfully, nodding. "I see. And Y/N? What caught your attention with her?"

He fell silent, and Nanami, ever the perceptive one, caught the uncertainty flashing in his usually unshakable demeanor. "Alright," he declared, easing up on the direct question. "Let me rephrase it. How is Y/N different from Utahime?"

Gojo blinked at that. How were you different?

If he had to put it into words, you didn't play by the rules he was used to.

You didn't always fawn over him. Sometimes you did, sometimes you didn't, like you didn't need him. There was a distance, a coldness at times, that kept him at arm's length. One moment, you were warm, maybe even kind. The next, you were closed off, unapproachable. Like you didn't trust him—like you didn't want to.

And yet... wasn't that exactly what he wanted in someone?

A woman strong enough to live her life without him, but who chose to stay because she wanted to, not because she needed to?

Gojo's voice dropped, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his usually confident tone. "She's... unpredictable. Mysterious in her own way. Sometimes kind, sometimes distant—like she doesn't need me at all."

"And that bothers you, doesn't it?"

The strongest scoffed, trying to brush it off, but there was no hiding the frustration creeping in. "Yeah. Guess it does."

Nanami hummed, leaning back in his seat. "Alright. But how is she different from Utahime, then? I thought you loved unpredictable and mysterious."

"That's the thing," Gojo muttered, frowning slightly, like the words didn't sit right in his mouth. "She's unpredictable, but not... fun."

Nanami's brow quirked faintly. "How?"

The white-haired seemed to hesitate, rolling the thought over in his head.

Nanami wasn't planning to hand him the answer on a silver platter—he was forcing him to dig for it.

And Gojo? He wasn't used to that. He wasn't used to having to think this hard about people. "If I had to say, with Utahime, the confrontation's... entertaining. She doesn't fawn over me, but it's playful. More upfront. Keeps me on my toes, you know?"

"And Y/N?"

Gojo's jaw clenched. "She's cold, then warm, then somewhere in between. One moment, I think I'm needed, like everyone else gravitates toward me naturally. But then she'll go days ignoring me. Like I barely exist to her."

Nanami studied him, the usual calm in his expression, unshaken. "Sounds like she keeps you on your toes too, though."

The white-haired sorcerer blinked, caught off guard by that comment.

"So," Nanami continued, pushing gently, "she's not all that different from what you thought you wanted, is she?"

Gojo stared at him for a second, speechless for once. He'd never thought of it that way. "Maybe not," he muttered, more to himself than to Nanami. "Maybe not at all."

The blonde sighed, crossing his arms as he delivered his next line with careful intent. "Hard for me to think why not her."

This caused the strongest to arch an eyebrow, curiosity slightly piqued. "Hmm? What?"

"I mean, think about it," Nanami continued, voice steady as always, but there was a subtle sharpness to his words. "She's naturally beautiful. Maybe not as outspoken as Utahime, but she's talented, level-headed, decisive. You've seen it for yourself. Heard it too." He paused, making sure the point hit where it needed to. "On top of that, she's skilled in more than just sorcery—baking, music, design—you name it. If I had to pick between Utahime and Y/N? Without hesitation, I'd choose Y/N."

Gojo's jaw clenched, a flicker of something dark flashing in his eyes.

He knew Nanami wasn't trying to provoke him, but hearing another man sing your praises—it grated on him in a way he hadn't expected. He'd always been used to admiration, to others turning their heads when he walked by. It was just the way things were for him.

But now? Now that he was feeling it, now that it was you? He didn't like it. He didn't want anyone else to notice how special you were, how exceptional you could be. He wanted you to be his alone, in every sense of the word.

Still, his curiosity itched, pushing aside the spark of jealousy long enough for him to ask. "Why, though? Why Y/N and not Utahime?"

Nanami's gaze didn't waver. "Think about it, Gojo Satoru. You know exactly how to get under Utahime's skin. You know what'll annoy her, what buttons to press to get a reaction. She's predictable in that way." He paused, letting it sink in before he continued. "But Y/N? Other than her... feelings—or whatever she has going on for you, do you have any clue what really sets her off? She's always got more to her, more layers. You never know what she's thinking, and that unpredictability doesn't fade."

Gojo blinked, the realization settling in slowly.

Nanami was right. You weren't like Utahime, who wore her emotions on her sleeve. You were deeper, more elusive. There was always more to you, always something hidden beneath the surface.

That's why his eyes always seemed to find you in a room, why he couldn't stop himself from wondering what was going on behind that distant gaze of yours.

You were a puzzle. One moment fiery, the next cold. You weren't walking around with the same blinding confidence he had—yours was quieter, subtler. The kind that didn't demand attention but commanded it anyway. It wasn't showy or loud; it was just there, a part of you, woven into everything you did.

A hidden gem, he thought. Something no one else could fully see or understand.

And that was the problem.

You weren't merely a curiosity; you were a fascination, an enigma he couldn't quite unravel. The thought of anyone else attempting to solve it—anyone other than himself—bothered him deeply.