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

151 ~ Hundred And Fifty-One

[H]e didn't bother knocking.

One moment, your bedroom was still—quiet save for your steady movements. The next, his cursed energy flooded the room, thick and suffocating like a heavy blanket of pressure. It was undeniable, unmistakable. The moment he teleported, his presence engulfed you.

You froze for just a beat, your body reacting to the sudden, oppressive weight of his cursed energy as it coiled around you like a predator.

The blockers were already messing with your head and body, making it harder to focus, and now this—now him.

You clenched your jaw slightly, trying to steady your breath as the familiar weight of Gojo's cursed energy sank into your bones, thrumming against your skin. It was invasive, overwhelming in a way that blurred the lines between irritation and something far more dangerous. Like he was always too much—too close, too knowing—and you hated how your body reacted to it.

He appeared at the doorway, casually leaning against the frame, that arrogant smirk already playing at his lips as his eyes scanned the room. No blindfold. No barriers. Just the raw, unfiltered presence of the man who made everyone else seem small in comparison.

His gaze lingered on the box in front of you, and then slid to the toy in your hand—a flicker of amusement crossed his features, though it was tainted by something darker, something far more possessive.

"Really?" His voice was a low drawl, oozing with that familiar mockery. "Toys? Is that what you've downgraded to now?" He stepped forward, the smirk deepening as his cursed energy pressed heavier against you, pushing past the blockers like they were barely even there. "Thought I kept you more entertained than that."

A slow, confident smile curved at your lips, icy and deliberate, as you picked up another toy from the box, letting it dangle carelessly between your fingers. "You've always been good at inflating your own ego, Satoru." Your voice was dark, sultry smooth, cutting through the tension like a blade. "But when it comes down to it... how are you any different from these?"

You held his gaze, unflinching, daring him to push back. The charged air between you vibrated with tension, thick and volatile, but you were calm. Composed. The very picture of control—dark, feminine power exuding from you like a second skin.

His eyes narrowed, a smirk tugging at his lips, but it lacked the usual playful gleam. "Toys don't make you beg like I did."

You arched a brow. "Shoko said her best experience, bordering on squirting, was with her toys. Honestly? Sex with you was... alright. But not once did I squirt, right?"

Your words landed like a direct hit, his smirk faltering. You could see the flash of irritation in his piercing blue eyes, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. Gojo wasn't used to hearing that—least of all from you. But you weren't done.

"So, what exactly makes you so irreplaceable again?"

The silence that followed was thick, charged with unspoken tension. Gojo's fists clenched at his sides, his cursed energy tightening around you like an invisible hand, but you didn't flinch. You could feel it, the way it tried to snake its way beneath your skin, but you stood firm, letting it wash over you without breaking your icy composure.

His grin was forced now, masking the sting of your words. "You really think I was just a... toy to you? Is that what this is?" His voice dropped, laced with a dark possessiveness as he took a step closer. "You think I'm that easy to forget?"

The tension between you crackled, the space between your bodies closing, but you didn't back down. If anything, you thrived on it—the dark energy wrapping around you like a second skin.

"You were fun, sure." You tilted your head slightly, your voice dripping with cool indifference. "But you showed up, got what you wanted, and left. Just like a toy. Only difference is, a toy doesn't come with emotional baggage."

His jaw tightened slightly, the usual arrogance in his posture fading as something rawer, darker, took its place. "A toy? A fucking toy?" he repeated, his disbelief mingling with smoldering intensity.

He stepped closer, so close now you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his voice a growl. "You think I'm on the same level as some machine you use for five minutes? You're fooling yourself if you think anyone—or anything—can give you what I did."

"Am I? Or maybe you're just realizing you're not as irreplaceable as you thought you were."

Frustration flickered just beneath his composed exterior, his cursed energy buzzing against your skin like a warning, but you remained calm, collected. It gnawed at him—this lack of control over you—and you could see it in the way his eyes darkened, a mixture of jealousy and something far more dangerous.

"So, you've been having pillow talk with Shoko now, huh?" He spoke, his tone sharp, laced with a playful edge, but beneath it, there was an unmistakable hint of jealousy threaded through his words. "What's next, comparing notes on who's the better kisser too?"

"Jealous?" A sly smile tugged at your lips. "Maybe you should ask Shoko for some pointers—might improve your performance."

His playful facade shattered, replaced by something far darker. In a swift motion, he closed the remaining distance between you, his breath ghosting hot against your ear as his voice dropped into a dangerous whisper. "Jealous? No. Pissed off? Maybe." His cursed energy wrapped around you like a tightening noose, thick, oppressive. "If you think some toy or Shoko's stories could ever replace what we had, you're fooling yourself."

You didn't flinch, but the slow, electric chill crawling down your spine ignited something dark, something thrilling. You leaned in, just enough to meet his intensity, your voice dipping low, velvety, oozing with unshakable confidence. "You really think you're irreplaceable, don't you?"

His eyes flickered, a dangerous glint flashing through them. He wanted to devour you, wipe that infuriating smirk off your face, make you burn for him, just like before. Just to prove that you were his, to remind you who really held the reins here, even if you tempted fate.

"Don't act like you didn't tremble for me every time." His voice was low, thick with possessiveness, and sent an intoxicating shiver down your body. He leaned in closer, lips barely brushing your cheek, a deliberate tease. The heat from his breath seared your skin, and you couldn't help but crave more. "Play tough all you want," he growled, his tone simmering, "but we both know it's me running through your veins, under your skin, where no one else can reach."

Your breath hitched for a moment, but you didn't let him see it. Your composure remained unbroken, even as his cursed energy wrapped tighter around you. "The only thing I was left with was the aftermath of your ego trip."

His eyes darkened further, pupils dilated with hints of frustration. "You really believe that? That I'm nothing more than an ego trip? Let me remind you, Y/N. I'm not just some fling you can forget about. You might want to act all tough now, but I know you still think about me when you're alone."

"Maybe I do think about you. Maybe I don't." You paused, letting the tension thicken between you, your gaze unwavering as your words sliced through the air. "But if I do, it's not because you were irreplaceable. It's because I wonder how I ever settled for someone who always put his ego first."

His jaw tightened, teeth clenched, and the frustration in his eyes deepened, darkening with intensity. The air between you seemed to shrink, cursed energy radiating from him in waves. The pressure was suffocating, pressing against your skin, sinking into your bones, yet somehow thrilling.

"You want to talk about settling?" His voice was low, seething. "Fine. Go ahead, settle for your toys. But don't pretend like they'll ever make you crave them the way you craved me."

You held your ground, your gaze steady, calm, meeting his with a confidence that only riled him further. "I don't need to crave anything from you, Satoru. I've already moved on."

Your words cut deep, and for a moment, you saw a fleeting vulnerability in his eyes, his usual bravado cracking like fragile glass. Silence hung between you, heavy and charged. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, edged with rawness and a desperation he couldn't mask.

"So, that's it? You're saying I meant nothing to you?"

You paused, a flicker of softness touching your expression, just for a second. He was searching, craving some reassurance, a sign that he still mattered.

"Your words, not mine."

The impact of the response struck harder than anticipated, the sting cutting deeper than any curse ever could. His cursed energy surged, a palpable pressure seeping into the skin, throbbing with unresolved tension. He straightened slightly, but still towering over you, his face dangerously close and his presence overwhelming. The raw intensity in his gaze held firm, as he whispered, a crack in his voice betraying the struggle to maintain control.

"You really want to act like this was nothing? Like I was nothing?"

Your indifferent shrug was like a spark to a powder keg, igniting something fierce and raw within Gojo. The casual dismissal of his question, the indifference to his emotional outburst—it pushed him over the edge.

Without warning, his hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck with a force that was both commanding and desperate. His gaze was locked onto yours, filled with a turbulent mix of need and frustration. The warmth of his breath was almost unbearable, searing against your skin.

"You think you can just ignore me?" he murmured, his voice low and trembling with raw emotion. "You really want to test how far I'm willing to go?"

Before you could react or respond, his lips crashed against yours, demanding and fierce.

The kiss was anything but gentle; it was driven by a need to prove something, to break through the wall you'd erected between you. His mouth was insistent, his kiss a maelstrom of passion and aggression.

The intensity of his kiss was overwhelming, bordering on violent. He pressed his lips against yours with a fervor that left no room for hesitation, his tongue probing deeply, forcing you to respond. The heat of his kiss was matched by the crushing pressure of his cursed energy, making it impossible to ignore the way he was affecting you.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. You tried to push back, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. His warmth, his cursed energy, and the relentless hunger of his lips consumed you.

His kiss was so consuming, so frenzied, that you felt the sting of his passion, the sharp edge of his desire. It was as if he was trying to devour you, to leave a mark on you that would remind you of him, of what you had together. You could taste the metallic tang of blood, a physical reminder of how fierce and desperate he was to make you remember.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, his eyes burning with a mix of satisfaction and frustration. His proximity was still overwhelming, his heartbeat a steady drum against your skin.

"Don't think you can just cast me aside," he muttered, his voice low and edged with a dangerous promise. "No matter how hard you try; I'm not going anywhere. And neither is what we had."

Your breath was uneven, but a smirk played on your lips, a silent declaration of victory.

The traces of blood on your lips from his aggressive kiss remained even as he wiped them away. His dark eyes lingered, filled with a promise of what he could do if he chose to.

"So, before you get too worked up," you said instead, your voice cool and detached, "Shoko sent those because of the side effects."

He hovered close, his breath mingling with yours. "Side effects? What do you mean?" A slight frown creased his brow, though his eyes, intense and unwavering, remained fixed on your lips—like he was ready to devour you all over again.

But you couldn't let that happen. Not now. Not again.

If you didn't get him out of here, out of your space, you both would be lost.

The tension between you was suffocating, primal, and you knew you weren't strong enough to fight it. Neither your defenses nor your resolve could withstand the pull of whatever dark, magnetic force was brewing between you.

You shrugged, your tone dismissive. "Figure it out yourself. I have more important things to do."

His gaze lingered on your lips for a moment longer, the tension between you thick, electric. It was as if he was considering your words, weighing them carefully. Then, with a final kiss—searing and possessive—it felt more like a warning than affection. He pulled back, his voice carrying an unmistakable edge. "Fine. But remember this: I'm not going anywhere. I'll be watching."

He turned to leave, the weight of his presence lingering in the air like the calm before a storm. Even with him gone, the intensity of the moment clung to you, a reminder of how deeply you affected each other.

You exhaled, the breath leaving you in something close to relief, though your lips still tingled, and an ache throbbed between your legs.

Damn it. You hated it—hated how he got under your skin so easily. Hated the way he had this hold over you. And worst of all, how much you loved him for it.