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

196 ~ Hundred And Ninety-Six

"Damn, that was so good," Gojo let out with a contented sigh, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he set the empty bowl aside. His grin was lazy, spreading across his face like he had no care in the world. "The broth—sweet, savory, just the way I like it."

There was a glint in his eyes, playful yet appreciative, as he leaned back further into the couch. "You've really outdone yourself, babe."

You caught the edge of his grin, your own lips twitching into a subtle smirk as you stacked the dishes together. "That good, huh?" you mused, the subtle trace of amusement in your voice.

There was something about the way he complimented you—genuine, yet laced with that signature arrogance—that made it hard to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

And before you knew it, you'd somehow ended up in his lap, Gojo's long arms wrapping around you effortlessly. His body was warm against yours, solid, his hands resting on your hips like he'd always had them there. He sprawled out lazily, legs stretched across the couch, completely at ease. His head tipped back, exposing the sharp cut of his jaw as you nestled against him, his scent—clean, crisp, with a hint of something headier—filling your senses.

His fingers drummed gently against your hip, his breath warm against your temple as he chuckled. "Good? I could get used to this."

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach at the way he phrased it. "Don't get too used to it, Satoru," you quipped, though the playful tone in your voice hinted you didn't entirely mean it.

He tilted his head slightly, blue eyes sparkling with mischief as they met yours. "Isn't that just an invitation to prove you wrong?" He hummed, the deep sound vibrating against your back as you leaned into him.

There was something more in the way he looked at you now—something that sent heat rushing up your neck.

You chuckled softly, letting the comfortable silence settle for a moment as his warmth seeped into you, the two of you savoring the easy intimacy of the moment. After a while, you straightened a little, glancing toward the coffee table. "You've got room for dessert?"

There was a quiet challenge in your words, the playful kind that made his eyes spark with interest. Gojo shifted slightly, his grin broadening as if he was two steps ahead of you, as always.

"I always have room for dessert," he stated, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn't just talking about food.

A flicker of heat danced in the air between you, subtle but undeniable. Gojo had that way about him—flirtation woven so effortlessly into his words, like it was second nature. It wasn't new, but the way his gaze lingered on you now, the smirk playing at his lips, added a layer of tension you hadn't anticipated.

Shifting in his lap, you leaned forward to reach for the small bag you'd set aside earlier, when he tensed beneath you. "Easy," he warned, voice a bit rougher now. His breath hitched, and you felt the unmistakable press of him beneath you. That familiar, slow-burning heat coiled low in your stomach as you froze in place, heart pounding in your chest. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, hot and tantalizing. "Unless you're trying to start something, you might wanna stop squirming."

Your breath caught in your throat, the tension between you shifting like a live wire. You hadn't been trying to start anything—at least, not intentionally—but the way his voice dropped, the way his hands gripped you like he was barely restraining himself, made it hard to think about anything else.

Still, you played it off, leaning forward slightly to grab the small box of dessert you'd prepared. "Relax. I'm just getting your real dessert," you murmured, straightening back up, pulling a small, elegant box from the bag and presenting it to him. "I made this for you," you said, ignoring the tension simmering just beneath the surface. "Not quite the Kikufuku you adore, but it's a solid alternative."

Gojo's gaze sparkled with mischief as he accepted the box, inspecting it as if it held the secrets of the universe. "You know," he began, a playful lilt to his voice, but his focus lingered on you, revealing a fascination that went beyond mere curiosity. He toyed with the box, a grin breaking across his face like dawn. "I'm starting to think you're trying to seduce me."

"Is that what it looks like?"

"You've been spoiling me all night," he remarked, taking a bite and savoring it slowly, as if the sweet treat was a distraction from the tension bubbling between you. "At this rate, I should probably watch myself. I might just get addicted."

"And what if that's precisely what I'm aiming for?" you mused, your tone calm but laced with playful confidence, an invitation wrapped in darkness.

Gojo's demeanor shifted, the teasing transforming into something more intense as his gaze bore into yours. "Dangerous game, Y/N," he warned, a teasing smirk still lingering, but the heat in his tone was unmistakable. "Are you trying to tie me down?"

The air between you thickened, charged with a warmth that felt almost intoxicating. Leaning in ever so slightly, you closed the distance, a wicked glint in your eye. "Didn't you claim you weren't letting go, no matter what?"

His chuckle resonated in the space between you, low and rich, the kind that sent warmth spreading through your chest and down your spine. "Oh, but I'm not going anywhere," he declared, his voice smoother, deeper, and carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken. His eyes sparkled with that usual mischief, but something darker, more serious. "So, tell me... when did you realize you had a thing for me?" The words were laced with amusement, but his gaze remained locked on yours, sharp and expectant.

You inhaled deeply, the vulnerability of this moment almost too heavy to bear. "After the hospital rooftop incident," you murmured, the confession steady but tinged with a raw honesty that surprised even you.

His reaction was instant—subtle, but noticeable. His body tensed beneath you, his shoulders stiffening as the weight of your words sank in. You felt him flinch, and you knew why. That day still lingered like a phantom between you, the memory of his slap and the heated argument that followed hanging like a shadow over your relationship.

"Y/N..." The lightness in his tone evaporated, replaced by something thicker, deeper. The playful air from before was gone, leaving only the gravity of this moment.

"I mean it," you pressed, feeling his gaze boring into you, sharp and searching. "I didn't expect to realize it then, but I did. That day, everything—the chaos, the fear, the mess of it all—it made me see what I was too afraid to admit before. How much you mean to me." You paused, choosing your next words carefully. "It wasn't just about the pain. It was about clarity. As twisted as it sounds, that moment opened my eyes to what I couldn't see before."

Gojo's silence spoke volumes, his jaw tightening as he absorbed your words. You could feel the internal battle waging in him, the playful mask slipping, revealing something raw and unguarded beneath.

You shifted slightly in his lap, the feel of his warmth against you a stark contrast to the cold truth you were about to speak. "I wanted to talk about it after the party," you began, your voice softer, testing the waters. "But... we didn't exactly get to that point."

His fingers dug slightly into your waist, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you anchored. "Talk?" His tone was low, lacking the usual teasing edge. "Talk about what?"

"Everything," you whispered, your gaze flicking to his lips for a fleeting moment before locking back onto his eyes. "About us. About things that turned into more than just... words. My expectations. Yours. I should've been clearer from the start." You brushed your fingers along his jaw, planting a slow, deliberate kiss just beneath his ear. His breath hitched, his grip tightening, pulling you closer—almost instinctively.

Gojo's eyes darkened, a faint smirk playing on his lips despite the tension. "So why didn't you? You could've told me."

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you rested your forehead against his. "Because I didn't want to invalidate your feelings... I didn't want to make it seem like my pain was more important than yours. The timing never felt right, and then... I just stopped trying."

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, his lips dangerously close to yours. "You don't have to protect me from this, Y/N. You can talk to me. Now, even. I'm here."

You chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. You pressed a softer kiss to his cheek, lingering a little longer this time. "I wasn't looking for an apology from you. At least... not after a certain point." You hesitated, then exhaled, the admission weighing on you like lead. "What I needed was for you to listen. To make me feel like... like I mattered to you."

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face before it was replaced by something deeper—concern. "What do you mean?"

Biting your lip, you hesitated slightly. "It wasn't just Utahime, or the missions. It was... everything. I know you've got your own pressure, your own responsibilities. I get that. But when you prioritized her—when you didn't show up for me when I needed you—it felt like I wasn't enough. Like you weren't there for me. Like I was... alone." You sighed, avoiding his gaze. "And I started to think that maybe I was expecting too much. So I stopped."

The silence that followed was suffocating, but you could feel Gojo's heartbeat quicken beneath your palm. His usual bravado melted away, leaving only bits and pieces of vulnerability.

"I didn't know... I didn't realize you felt that way," he murmured, his voice softer now, the usual cockiness gone.

Your lips twitched into a sad smile. "I didn't want to keep setting myself up for disappointment. It hurt too much. So, I decided... if I stopped expecting things from you, then I wouldn't feel like I was being neglected. I wouldn't be waiting for something you couldn't give."

"Y/N..." His voice was rough, strained, and he leaned his forehead against yours, exhaling slowly as if the weight of your words had knocked the air out of him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take you for granted."

Your hands slid to cup his face, fingers brushing through his hair. "Stop." You cut him off gently, pressing your lips against his in a kiss that was both soft and searing at once. His grip on you tightened, a low groan escaping him as the kiss deepened, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "I didn't tell you this to make you feel guilty. Or for an apology. I was just... explaining why I pulled back."

Gojo's eyes burned into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your pulse race. "I don't want you to stop expecting things from me," he confessed, his voice gravelly with emotion. "I don't want you to feel like you need to protect yourself from me. I get it... I screwed up. But I want to do better. I want to be better... for you."

A lump formed in your throat, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten. "I wasn't trying to make you upset. I just... wanted to be honest. For once."

"You're not making me upset," he breathed, his lips ghosting over yours before capturing them in a kiss that was hotter, more urgent, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that had been simmering between you for far too long. His hands roamed your body, possessive and demanding, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

You melted into him, the heat between you escalating with every kiss, every touch. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire that pulled a soft gasp from your throat. "No more hiding," he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin. "From now on, it's just us—nothing in between."