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

147 ~ Hundred And Forty-Seven

[M]aki's voice cut through the air, sharp as her spear. "What the hell were you thinking? You could've gotten us all killed!"

Gojo's response came with that infuriatingly carefree tone. "Oh, come on, Maki. I was just saving my adorable students." His voice was deliberately louder than necessary, as if making sure you could hear him.

You didn't need to hear it. You already knew the truth, pieces of it stitched together from the fragments of his cursed energy that clung to you. Gojo was an open book in that way—predictable in his unpredictability. It wasn't just his words that gave him away, but the way his cursed energy slipped past your barriers like they didn't exist. And of course, they wouldn't. The blockers you used had been soaked in his own cursed energy from the start. It was no surprise his energy sought itself out, like a current drawn back to its source.

Their voices faded into the distance as you stepped out of the forest, the cool quiet swallowing the remnants of the battle. From the shadows, Nanami's familiar face emerged, his steady presence cutting through the stillness.

He gave you an once-over, his expression unreadable but his words carrying that ever-present concern. "You're alive. But I take it you've pushed yourself past your limit again."

The corners of your lips twitched upward, the faintest ghost of a smile playing there, though his comment irked you more than it amused.

Why did everyone act like you were reckless? You knew your limits—surpassing them was just part of the job.

Nanami, ever composed, extended a hand, offering you a crisp white handkerchief. "You're bleeding."

"Thanks," you muttered, accepting the handkerchief. The gesture was so typically Nanami—straightforward and practical.

A small wave of amusement brushed against your irritation. His presence had that peculiar effect on you, grounding yet exasperating in the way only he could be. Not that you'd ever admit it, but it was exactly what you needed.

You pressed the handkerchief to your nose, and the scent of his cologne hit you instantly—a heady mix of spice and wood, undeniably masculine. It grounded you, yet something else flickered beneath the surface. A warmth crept through your body, uninvited and impossible to ignore.

"The kids might need a hospital run," you muttered, trying to force your attention away from the unwelcome heat rising inside.

Nanami gave a sharp nod. "So do you."

His voice, calm and practical as always, usually had a grounding effect on you, something solid to latch onto. But now, his presence barely anchored the strange sensation winding its way through your body.

You felt your cursed energy—something you kept tightly controlled—stretching toward his in a way that felt entirely wrong. Too personal. Too intimate. With a pulse of panic, you quickly dialed it back to 1%, your heart pounding as you reined yourself in, desperately trying to avoid a deeper humiliation.

What the hell was happening to you?

Before you could gather your thoughts, you heard footsteps closed in, and you knew exactly who it was before you even saw him. Gojo. The moment his cursed energy brushed against your own, that warmth flared again, this time more intense—an ache low in your body that sent a jolt of unwanted desire straight between your legs.

The discomfort you'd managed to suppress around Nanami snapped into something primal and raw with Gojo's presence. His cursed energy felt like it was stripping away the defenses you'd so carefully constructed. Unlike Nanami, whose presence you could keep at bay, Gojo's cursed energy seeped past your blockers with unnerving ease, as if they didn't exist at all. And that heat... it was disturbingly familiar.

It wasn't just the cursed energy. It was deeper than that—your body was reacting in ways that had nothing to do with battle readiness. You were craving... sex.

Why now? You weren't some hormonal teenager, and you were certain you'd had your blockers on when absorbing cursed energy. So why did it feel like everything was spiraling out of control? Unless...

It hit you like a freight train. The blockers. The new earrings you'd started using to prevent the invasion of overwhelming cursed memories and energy. So these were the side-effects Shoko spoke of?

They were supposed to shield you, to keep you safe from drowning in it all. But clearly, there was a price. A side effect you hadn't anticipated, and now you were caught in it—bare and exposed under the weight of Gojo's cursed energy, with the traitorous ache gnawing at you.

Nanami's brow furrowed, his steady voice cutting through your muddled thoughts. "Are you okay?"

The simplicity of his question made it feel heavier than it should've. No, you weren't okay. Physically, mentally—nothing about this was okay. You could still feel the warmth crawling under your skin, like every fiber of your being was reacting to Nanami in a way that went far beyond professional.

You swallowed the heat in your throat, forcing your voice to stay steady despite the storm inside. "I'm fine," you lied, words slipping out with less confidence than usual. "Just side effects. I might need to check in with Shoko."

Nanami frowned but didn't press. His sharp eyes lingered on you, but he didn't push further as you turned on your heel, pressing the handkerchief tighter to your nose—not just to stop the bleeding but to hide the flood of confusion that was now crawling up your spine.

Your mind was scattered, trying to grasp onto anything, and you fixated on the veil—simple enough, right?

A veil designed to block visibility, nothing more. You just had to dismantle it.

But just as you were about to step away, a hand gripped your collar, tugging you back lightly but deliberately. You knew who it was immediately. Gojo.

That cursed energy—suffocating yet sweet—rolled off him in waves. The moment it brushed against yours, a heat flared up between your legs, and your thighs clenched on reflex. Nanami forgotten, your mind zeroed in on one thing: Gojo.

All you wanted was him—right here, right now.

You released another sharp but subtle breath, trying to suppress the overwhelming need crashing through you. "Don't touch me," you muttered, your voice carrying a sharp edge. You meant it to sound irritated, but in reality, you were barely holding on, trying not to melt under the weight of his presence.

Nanami's gaze flicked between the two of you, something unreadable passing over his face. But before he could step in, Gojo's voice cut in, smooth and commanding, "Nana-min, take care of the kids." His hand stayed firm on your collar, holding you in place, cursed energy simmering in the air between you. "I'll handle Y/N."

"Handle me?" you echoed, your voice dripping with sarcasm, the subtle flirtation not lost even as your mind raced. You knew how Gojo worked—when he said 'handle,' it was never as simple as it sounded. It was a promise. A challenge. And one you weren't sure you could resist in your current state. "Sounds like you're making some assumptions, Satoru."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his lips brushing against your skin just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "I'd say I'm right on time."

Shit. You felt your pulse quickening as his cursed energy wrapped around you, heavy and intoxicating. His body heat was everywhere, and it felt like your skin was on fire. It was too much, but it made you crave more.

"This isn't necessary," you murmured with a sultry edge, though the feigned composure in your voice couldn't quite mask the underlying tension. You tugged half-heartedly at his grip, but it wasn't convincing anyone.

The kids moved past, seemingly unaware of the tension between you and Gojo, their exhaustion evident after the battle. But you? You were far from exhausted. You were on edge, barely holding back the urge to pull him even closer—to fuck him.

"Necessary or not," Gojo's voice dropped to a low, almost teasing tone, his fingers lightly brushing the skin of your nape, "you're coming with me."

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a teasing-flirty smirk. "And why's that?"

"There's only one ride back," He answered, his tone light but tinged with mischief. His lips were so close you could feel his breath against your neck. "Thought I'd teleport us both. More efficient, don't you think?" The warmth of his cursed energy crackled between you, making it hard to concentrate. "Besides," he continued, his voice dropping to a softer, more possessive tone, "Shoko's waiting, and it looks like you could use some help."

"Oh? And what makes you say that?"

"You're bleeding," he remarked casually, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Seems pretty clear to me."

"Nothing I can't handle," you replied coolly, pressing Nanami's handkerchief to your nose as if trying to hide the situation from him.

Even though you knew he had a point, it only fueled your resolve to resist. Every part of you wanted to close the distance and surrender to the magnetic pull between you. And Gojo—he was oblivious to the effect he was having on you at that moment.