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

162 ~ Hundred And Sixty-Two

[Y]ou woke slowly, consciousness returning in fragments, like pieces of a puzzle slowly falling into place. The haze of sleep clung to your mind, the weight of exhaustion still heavy on your limbs. Something felt different, though, like an absence of pressure—an unfamiliar sense of ease settled in your chest.

Then, bit by bit, last night began to creep into your memory.

"I love you."

The words echoed in your mind, raw and unfiltered. It didn't hit you with embarrassment, no pang of regret gnawing at your insides. If anything, it was a relief. Like you'd finally set something free that had been trapped in your chest for too long.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips, releasing the last bit of tension in your body. There was no going back now, but... maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

You lingered in bed for a moment, letting the peace of that thought settle in before you turned your head slightly. That's when you noticed him, seated in the chair next to you, his arms folded and his blindfold still in place. It was rare to see him like this, as if the usual whirlwind of his personality had finally calmed. His head was tilted slightly, his breathing steady, almost like he was... sleeping.

You blinked. Gojo—sleeping? That couldn't be right.

In all the time you'd known him, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd seen him asleep. Twice, to be exact—once slouched in his office chair in this same position, and another after a heated night in your bed. Now, watching him like this, you realized this made three.

There he was, still and almost serene, his usual sharp edges softened by sleep. Vulnerable wasn't a word you'd ever use for Gojo Satoru, not when you knew his Limitless technique was always active. But in this moment, he seemed unguarded, a rare quiet settling over him. It made you pause.

Before you knew it, you were standing, the soft fabric of a shirt and dark blue jacket brushing against your skin. It wasn't your shirt, of course. You looked down, realizing you were draped in his clothes.

A subtle frown creased your brow as you considered this. Had he dressed you?

You tried to piece the memory together but came up short. Whatever happened last night, he'd taken care of you, in his own odd way. The thought of him doing something so intimate, so un-Gojo-like, filled you with a strange mixture of curiosity and something else—something warmer.

Slowly, your hand reached out, hovering just above the air between you. You knew his barrier would stop you at some point, but still... Your fingers brushed the empty space, and—nothing. No barrier.

You blinked, slightly... startled.

For a moment, you hesitated. Should you even push further? What was it about seeing him like this that stirred your curiosity? Maybe it was the rare stillness in him, the vulnerability that felt almost out of character.

Your hand hovered near the edge of his blindfold. You hesitated again, a flicker of uncertainty passing through you. But curiosity won out. Carefully, you tugged at the fabric, loosening it just enough to catch a glimpse beneath.

The brilliant blue of his eyes met yours before you could even fully lift the blindfold.

Awake. Fully awake.

"Heh." His voice was soft, but that familiar playful edge was still there, a small smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

You froze, caught between confusion and a flicker of something unidentifiable, but you didn't pull back. His eyes were locked on yours, and instead of the usual teasing gleam, there was something more controlled, something deeper in his gaze—almost as if he wasn't going to let this moment slip away.

His hand circled your wrist, gentle but firm, and before you could react, he lowered your fingers to his lips, brushing them in a soft, deliberate kiss. The gesture was uncharacteristic, disarming. You inhaled sharply but kept the frown on your face, refusing to let him get to you that easily.

"Why am I in your clothes?" Your voice cut through the tension, steady and cool.

Gojo tilted his head, the casual shrug too calculated to be indifferent. "Thought you'd sleep better in something comfortable." His nonchalance didn't quite match the way his gaze lingered on you—subtle, unreadable.

You let out a small sigh, an almost imperceptible smirk tugging at your lips. "Comfortable?" you repeated, narrowing your eyes slightly. His fingers traced your wrist, absentmindedly, as if he didn't want to let go yet. You might've been curious, maybe even tempted to let it play out, but the pounding headache at the back of your skull made you think otherwise.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you slipped your hand out of his grasp. "Thanks for the watch, but I prefer my own space," you remarked, your voice smooth and laced with an undercurrent of confidence as you turned to leave, a knowing glint in your eyes.

You heard him exhale deeply. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, arms wrapping around you from behind. The gesture felt almost too familiar, his warmth enveloping you in a way that caught you off guard. His chin rested on your shoulder, lips brushing against your hair, the touch far gentler than his usual boldness.

"You mentioned something last night," Gojo murmured, the playful edge nowhere in sight. "Do you remember?"

Your chest tightened, but not in fear. The memory of your confession—I love you—rushed back in vivid clarity. Strangely enough, you didn't feel the need to retract it, nor the usual panic that might've followed. Instead, you stood firm, your heartbeat steady, gaze unwavering.

"I remember." Calm and assured, the words flowed easily. Slowly, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. "And if you think I'd regret it..." You tilted your head slightly, smirk widening just a touch. "I don't say things I don't mean."

Gojo's grip tightened, breath hitching for a moment before he regained his composure. His smirk returned, but it was softer, more contemplative, as if he were trying to decode the enigma that was you.

"Heh," he chuckled, low and warm, a sound that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. "You've always kept me on my toes." The intensity in his voice deepened, his arms still wrapped around you as if letting go was never an option. "But just so you know, I don't take things lightly either. Not with you."

You arched an eyebrow, letting out a soft, humorless chuckle. "Lightly? Rich coming from you." The smirk on your lips was there, but it held a complexity that ran deeper. "After everything you said? Everything you did? You think you can throw that line at me?" Another chuckle escaped, this one sharper. "I expected better from you, Satoru." Shaking your head, you kept your gaze locked on the door. "Nah, scratch that. I could've expected more from someone like Nanami. Not you. Congratulations on destroying my expectations. You really excelled. So if you want to laugh, go ahead—boost your own ego. I dare you. Just... laugh."

Your words dripped with sarcasm, a hint of weariness threading through your calm exterior. He felt the sting; you were fearless in your honesty. Looking at you now, so composed and resolute, only intensified that sting. You never hid behind facades. Shoko was right—you weren't trying to catch his attention. You had a clear goal in mind, and you never played games.

Gojo chuckled, but it wasn't mocking. "Not today."

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "Not today?"

His smile faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "I'm not going to pretend I didn't want to hear it," he admitted, his voice softer now. "But I'm not going to force you to say it again just to entertain me. You've already said it once."

Caught off guard by his honesty, you blinked at him, processing his words. No teasing remarks, no playful edge—just Gojo, looking at you with an earnestness that felt oddly... vulnerable. The silence stretched until he tilted your chin up, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut, warmth spreading through you at the gentle touch. It felt good. So damn good.

"You might want to change into something more presentable now, yeah?" He almost seemed to change the subject, a classic Gojo maneuver.

You tried to pull away, your expression carefully neutral as you moved toward the door, but he called out, "Wait, babe."

That single pet-name made you pause, and you instinctively cast him a cold glance over your shoulder. He wore that soft smile, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. "I need my jacket back."

You looked down, realizing you were still wrapped in his oversized clothing. With a sigh, you rubbed the bridge of your nose and peeled the jacket off, handing it to him.

You'd expected him to take it quietly, to let you walk away. Instead, he grasped your wrist and yanked you forward, pulling you into his arms. The warmth enveloped you, his scent filling your senses as his cursed energy brushed against you, soothing and familiar. He placed gentle kisses on your forehead, then your cheek, then your nose, but paused before kissing your lips, leaving you bewildered.

A frown crossed your face, your composure unyielding as you shot him a look that clearly conveyed: What the hell?

He chuckled, brushing your hair back gently. "There's going to be a party in a few days. This Friday evening, to celebrate your win at the flag bearer game."

"The one you set me up to fail at?" Your disbelief cut through the air, sharp and pointed. "How generous."

"It was Shoko's idea!" he replied quickly, almost defensively, as if he needed to justify himself.

"Yeah, right." Your voice remained steady, laced with hints of skepticism. "I'll discuss the specifics with her."

With that, blunt and unapologetic, you detangled yourself and walked away, leaving him behind.

You didn't need to see his expression to know it was a mix of frustration and something else—maybe regret. But you had no intention of lingering, playing games, or letting curiosity lead you down a path you weren't ready to explore.