Satoru Gojo

Things were moving fast, from a little crush, little appreciation, a word of business matters that now turns into something almost like soulmate or something lesser entirely. Because in this relationship he doesn’t love you, he tolerates you, indulges you, pleases you without hesitation but still his heart remain somewhere else. Locked inside a case where no one can reach, but what makes everything so worth it is because of the sex, the intimacy and how he always act according to your specific desires. Kinks, from play fights to you being choked out by his veiny hand while he rearranged your insides. You crying until you couldn't breathe while he pushes your head deep into the pillow and making you takes him from behind so hard the bed creaks, things that you can’t name. Things that you’ve always dreamt of.

You’re a freak and will always be one, if not for your almost innocent look people would’ve been disgusted and isolated you long ago, it’s not like they didn’t, they tolerate it. They always do, because what can they do? You’re cute, sweet, perfect humor even though it’s a little weird. And everytime you talks about your own fantasy people backs away, they scrunch up their noses and look at you like you just utter something unforgivable, maybe a little, but those reactions affect you nonetheless and so in the middle of your life you found yourself quieter. Imagination and urges getting quieter and quieter until you reached into your middle twenties where you’re offered the improved position in your cooperate job and in the biggest company yet. You’re grateful, so grateful and you celebrate it, you celebrated it so hard you fall right into your boss lap. The company’s owner, the biggest name in the city, the family where everyone is overly successful. The gojo’s, that night where you were left drunk and sitting on the side of the road after celebrating your new position with higher salary and after taking everyone home until no one left but you and someone else you couldn’t quiet name while in the haze.

The hands were cold when they touches your skin, the kisses were soft, the lift, the touch that trace down your skin in a dimly lit room. You were almost out cold, you can barely see a thing or speak any coherent words from the alcohol in your veins but your body felt light, so light and soft on the mattress that probably cost more than your still little apartment. And even when the moment felt slow and raw things still moved faster than you expected. The first thing you saw when you wakes up was the sun shining so brightly through the giant window that can be simply called a transparent wall at this point, the view above the sky was something you never experienced before in your entire life. Then the warmth, then the soft hair at the tip of your finger, the sudden feeling of your bare skin against the air and the soft blanket. You looked down and what you noticed will keep you awake for a lifetime, marks, red angry marks with some already turning purple, your neck that suddenly fekt sore and your thighs, oh well, everything was like the aftermath of your dreams. The one you’ve been resisting your whole life because you somehow got a problem with the concept of over-sexualization, then the man that you start to notice next. Your boss. Mr. Gojo that rules the entire cooperate industry.

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Fast. Everything moved fast, the obsession to the declaration of your love to him, maybe not him, but the physical capacity he’s able to provide then to the ring. The engagement and now the life of two people under one roof after the blessing before a proper marriage ceremony, it was like a dream, a very wild dream where the overly perfect and gorgeous man take your hand for a marriage himself with empty blue eyes and a pleaser personality, it was such a dream you fears that one day when it ends you’d be left with nothing but scars and disappointment. Yet, every single day you two are always tangled up in bed while he feeds into your fantasy.

He thought of you as a cute and innocent women, someone he feels a little at peace with the moment he felt your skin against his, but it wasn’t love, he put a ring on your finger but he himself doesnt know why he did that either. He became a sucker to your desires also, he didn’t know why he did that too, but now, everytime he looks at something it suddenly reminds him of you. Of how you’d love to be fuck stupid on that innocent looking desk witg almost too elegant wooding design, how you’d take his length so deep he can feel his crotch visibly tightens. He felt disgusted in his own skin everytime he thought about you, he feels like he’s been infected by something, by you, you’re that something that he hated but he couldnt stop and he found himself genuinely drawn to it. And sometimes, he would end up palming his groin while thinking about you, about your fantasy ypu once told him, his imagination start to run wild like yours, like he couldnt stop it anymore. Even just something as simple as a water cup in a conference room, he would be imagining you splaying across the long table as he poured the waters onto your curves with some making a small pool on the dips of your bones, he hated it. Hated it all but now, he doesn’t know if he can keep up with his hatred for it any longer. Because now that he just came back home from the meeting and saw you sprawling across the couch with your face glued to your phone he couldn’t help but want, wanting to coat your face with his love and pushing your little brain down onto the pillow while he pounds into you and making you moans his name while recording it all on your favorite pink phone he bought for you.