Take It Off (R18)
Gojo Saturo x Iori Utahime
December 31, 2023

Utahime wasn't sure how she ended up in his room and her current state. All she remembered was that she was in Tokyo for some important meeting, she and Gojo had a fight – a serious one – not the usual Gojo-was-an-asshole banter. But he was, an asshole to her, that's why they fought. She walked away from him, not wanting to shed a tear at his stupidity. Yet, the heavens had other plans; they decided to cry for her. She ran for cover but the sudden downpour had already drenched her to her skin. She found temporary refuge under the awning of a coffee shop she didn't recognize. Utahime didn't dare go inside. As she waited for the rain to go away, or at least die down to a drizzle, she kept thinking back to their fight. Alas, her mind must have been thinking too much of him that it had conjured the man she wasn't sure she wanted to see. Yet, so relieved to have been found by him. He brought her back to his apartment and offered to wash and dry her uniform.

She remembered now. That was the reason she was waiting for him in his room, for him to come back with her dry clothes before she traveled back to Kyoto. The same reason she was down in just her underwear, scavenging his closet with something of his she could put on as they waited for her clothes to dry. Something he wouldn't miss. She found some old, raggedly black T-shirt, three sizes bigger than her figure. It was worn out and definitely, had seen better days but still soft to the skin. And smelled like Gojo. Utahime couldn't help but take a sniff off the sleeve. His scent always had a reassuring effect on her. A single whiff and Utahime felt calm… safe. Like no matter how bad the situation was, they'll always make it safe. When it wasn't enough, she forced what remained of his scent from the collar of the t-shirt into her nostrils. If Gojo were to walk in on her right now, he might be creeped out by the sight of his girlfriend smelling his old, drabby shirt like an addict looking for a fix.

She noticed the print on the front, some parts of it had peeled off, and recognized it as the now-defunct band he liked in High School. One he had pestered her into going to watch the concert. She had reluctantly agreed then even if his taste in music never rubbed off on her. One OK Rock. Utahime never understood his taste in music. She was classical, he was not.

She should take his T-shirt off and return it. He probably didn't appreciate him going through his things like that. He wouldn't be happy to see her wearing something important enough to be kept, a treasure tucked at the farthest back of the closet, instead of being thrown out like the other old, worn-out things. But his shirt felt so good to wear for some reason she couldn't quite explain.

Maybe because they just had a fight.

Maybe because it smelt like him.

Maybe because they hadn't seen each other for weeks and she quite missed him.

She climbed to his bed, crawling underneath the sheets, letting the soft fabric engulf her, and touch the skin that couldn't be covered by his large shirt. His lingering scent on the bedding embraced her whole body.

That must be it. She missed him. Missed his scent. Missed his arms around her. Missed his touch on the plane of her body.

But all he gave her was a heated argument after long weeks of not seeing, not embracing, and not touching each other.

Utahime turned her head on his pillow, burying her face in the soft cotton, letting it catch her words meant for Gojo.

"You idiot."

She jumped right up and whipped her head to the door, almost causing her a whiplash, when she heard it push open.

"It may take a while, Utahime."

His hair was down, the bandage around his eyes long gone, and replaced by black tinted sunglasses. Suddenly warping Utahime back to their student days when he was an arrogant, bratty teenager. Years later, he still was arrogant and bratty although nothing about him screamed innocent and naïve. But when he took off his blindfold and let his hair down, Utahime was brought back to those days when he was just an annoying kohai and nothing more.

Gojo stopped in the middle of his tracks as he made his way to his bed, when his eyes, all covered by the dark lenses of his specs, landed on Utahime's figure in the sea of his bed.

"Wh-what are you wearing?"

Utahime could not read his expression. The windows to his soul were still covered by the dark shades. But his tone was harsher than he intended as if Utahime had no right to it. As if her wearing his shirt was a capital offense.

"Oh, this."

Utahime swung her feet over at the edge of his bed, letting the duvet fall off of her, and stood beside his bed, playing with her fingers a bit anxiously.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask first."

It only hit her now how much he must have hated it, Utahime going through his things and wearing what probably was one of his favorite shirts without his permission. He was the kind who hated to share, apparently. Even with her. Even if she badly needed it.

She thought he'd understand.

He walked in long, purposeful strides. When he stopped right in front of her, his sudden proximity forced Utahime to tip her chin and look up at him. He was just so damn tall. His shades fell a bit off the bridge of his nose, giving Utahime a glimpse of his blue eyes. But she still couldn't read his expression. She could only assume that he was mad with what she did as she watched his brow furrow and his jaw clench.

"Take it off."

Utahime couldn't believe it at first and thought she just misheard him. But when she considered that Gojo might have said what she thought he said, despite herself, it made sense. It dawned on her that she must have exaggerated her importance to him. Because how could he not allow even this slightest generosity between them?

"I promise to give it back–"

"–take it off, Uta-hime."

"I… I'm not… wearing a-an-anything underneath." She confessed in a small voice hoping he would reconsider.

But he didn't.

"Take it off…"

He wouldn't.

"or I will."

His expression had turned dark then and that's something Utahime recognized.

Cautiously, and with obvious hesitance, Utahime crumpled the hem of Gojo's black shirt in her fists. She found the act he asked of her too much – too intimate, too daring – too much. Just like him. He waited for her to do as he commanded, she could see it. In the way his breathing became shallow, in the quick rise and fall of his chest. Utahime should be proud that the simplest task of her removing the shirt had that kind of effect on Gojo Satoru, the Strongest Sorcerer of this generation. That she had the power to reduce him to something so simple and so primal – simply a man.

A funny thought crossed her mind. Not funny in a way that it was laughable but more on how it was ironic that in the years that he had teased poor Utahime, she could easily get him back now. She watched sharply as Gojo's tongue wet his lips, anxiously waiting for a peek of what was hidden underneath the black fabric. Utahime felt like she had grown a foot or so, realizing she had the upper hand now.

So, slowly, as she watched Gojo's face twitch, and the expensive sunglasses, that protected him from Utahime finding out about the hunger brewing in his blue eyes, sliding down the bridge of his nose, Utahime made a show out of taking his shirt off her.

It was her time to tease the proud sorcerer with how excruciatingly and painfully slow she pulled the shirt up her thighs, passing up her pelvis, teasing some red fabric.

Red and black. That was quite different from what he was used to.

She saw a glimpse of his hands, how they were trembling on either side of him. For a moment, she wished his hands were the ones taking his shirt off of her. But he refused to move and allowed himself to watch only and not touch.

The hem of his black tee now brushed up against her bare stomach. Utahime saw Gojo gasp at that, lips slightly parting to let out some of the tension brewing inside.

Oh, his mouth.

His glorious mouth quivered at the anticipation of seeing her fully naked. His want. His desire for her. To have her. To own her. At that sight, Utahime felt that familiar tugging at the lower part of her belly. By reflex, she tried to suppress it but her body refused. Her body wouldn't allow her to suppress this delicious feeling. In an act of rebellion, her chest felt tighter and her breasts heavier. Sensitive. So much so that they ached when the soft fabric of the shirt grazed her nipples with the smallest movement.

This was bad. This was so bad for Utahime.

She was losing the game.

She paused at her navel, feeling too exposed now. If she wanted to put a stop to this, to what Gojo was planning with this 'take-it-off' nonsense, now's the best time to do it. Weren't they just fighting earlier? That was something they needed to settle first before anything. But Gojo wasn't taking his eyes away from her body, on the skin revealed for him to feast his eyes on.

"Gojo…" she willed him.

His blue eyes flicked back at her brown ones when she paused. Even so, it didn't break the spell that her movements had on Gojo. When neither of them moved, it became clear to Utahime that the Strongest sorcerer had no plans of putting a stop to this. By extension, she couldn't either. But in her desire to not let Gojo win, Utahime swiftly pulled the shirt over her head and pressed a shielding arm over her breasts.

That part, at least, she was going to deprive him of as punishment for all the nonsense he put her through, starting from their argument this morning.

But Gojo Saturo was not to be punished.

It almost scared Utahime how the man turned feral. He tackled her to his bed, his sunglasses fell off the floor with a silent thud, and pushed her up to the middle of the mattress. His sunglasses might have cracked at impact but Gojo seemed to not care at all. In a fluid maneuver, Utahime found herself pressed beneath him on his bed, both arms pinned by the wrists, just above her head. She was fully exposed to him, to his eyes – bright, blue and raging – preying on every inch of her body. His blue orbs were absent of that gentleness they held when he made love to Utahime.

The muscles below her stomach contracted at the realization that Gojo wasn't going to be her lover tonight. He was going to fuck her. Mess her up for what he thought was Utahime's crime against him. She felt a sudden ache between her legs and tried to relieve it, trying to shut her legs close. She couldn't. Not when she had a two-hundred-pound flesh of a man squeezed between them.

Utahime squirmed beneath him, willing all her strength to free herself from his hold. Biting down the moans threatened to tumble out of her lips. All caused by that delicious friction between her core brushing up against the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Gojo!" Her voice started strong and authoritative, brown eyes glaring at him, only to be negated wholly by the whimper that managed to escape her mouth. "Uhn."

He laughed at that. At her.

But before she could scold him, Gojo crashed his lips against Utahime's – a granite kiss against her velvet lips. All her complaints died in her throat, melted by the lewd noises that took place in their stead. It had been a while since the last time he was this rough on her. Just like the first time they finally gave in to the undeniable attraction between them.

His free hand roamed her body, sliding from her wrist down the length of her arms, the skin on it growing hot and sensitive – inch by inch. But when he reached the arch of her breast, his touch turned urgent. Squeezing her mound as his tongue explored the depths of her mouth. It was driving her crazy. The tension his rough hand kept building inside her had no way of escape. The spark that he had kept fanning with his rough touch and bites threatened to explode inside her unless she could find some way to allay it.

Maybe if he allowed her to touch him. Or if she removed his mouth on hers so she could plead with him.

Gojo was greedy and cruel and selfish.

He would push Utahime to the edge and swiftly retreat before she could dive freely into the depths of her orgasm. He sought the other parts of her body he knew he could ignite but refuse let flourish. Such a spoiled brat. A kid on Christmas, running about excitedly, unsure which gift to open first.

He was always like that, with every reunion – planned or not. Both of them actually, throwing themselves at each other, letting the months they spent apart and the lustful voracity it cultivated fumble their hands all over, desperately unwrapping each other. This time, however, Utahime was bereft of any control. The Utahime before his scrutinizing eyes was a fully unwrapped present, one Gojo could not wait to indulge himself with.

He removed his mouth from hers, too abruptly in her opinion, and freed her wrists from his grip. He gave Utahime a window to catch her breath, only the slightest generosity he allowed her. Then crawled backwards to position his mouth at her center. Leveled his lips over the red lace that hung low on her hips, which Gojo was ready to rip apart along with the most special reward that hid beneath it – his first meal of the day.

He licked and lapped and slurped, sucking with an open mouth over the fabric of her underwear. But he did it so slowly, so excruciatingly and painfully slow that all Utahime could do was cry and plead. He was a fucking contradiction, shifting from slow to harsh in a flick of a switch. The center of her red lace was so wet – with his saliva co-mingling with her arousal – that Utahime didn't even realize she was still wearing underwear. Not until Gojo opened her folds and dragged the flat of his tongue over her very core – tasting Utahime's bare nakedness. She jumped at the wet and hot feel of his tongue, reflexively jerking her hips up his face – as if begging for more.

She didn't know exactly what it was about Gojo and his mouth and tongue that got her all crazy, all messed up that her mind just went dark after an initial shock, like how a circuit breaker shortens then bursts. And when the fog clears, when somehow Utahime managed to think again, she propped herself on her elbows and watched Gojo feast between her legs. It was such a fucking turn-on – Gojo finding use for that foul mouth of his other than tease and annoy her. And that was driving her off the edge.

But not quite. She wasn't there yet – close, so close – but not yet. Utahime wanted more, needed more.

Gojo knew exactly how to push her over – so he drew circles on her clit with the pad of his thumb and slid his tongue into her cunt. It was a whole new fucking sensation.

And it made Utahime sing.

Sing her song of praises, of pleas, and finally of her orgasm. Utahime shook and trembled in Gojo's hands as he pushed her things apart, spreading them wider so he could unobstructedly drink in her juices. The sound of him slurping echoed around his room, the tip of his nose prodding on her swollen clit. The dangerous combination had set off another orgasm. He was cleaning up but inadvertently made a mess of her a second time.

Then his talented mouth and tongue were on hers again, giving Utahime a taste of herself. She was used to her own taste just as she was accustomed to his. If they followed the usual order, Utahime would be on her knees now giving Gojo the same pleasure he just let her experience. Drive him crazy with her hand and mouth too. She motioned to push herself off the mattress and nudge her man on his back, but Gojo was going off script. He seemed to enjoy kissing her. He alternated between sucking on her bottom lip and darting his tongue into the cave of her mouth. His full weight on top of her, pressing her into the mattress again, both her hands now pinned back above Utahime.

He was firm about her punishment of not letting her touch him.

Gojo felt perfectly comfortable between Utahime's legs. His mere build and size spread them apart. Without heeding Utahime's requests, Gojo slid his tongue at the side of her neck, licking and sucking skin, leaving marks on areas he knew well couldn't be covered by the collar of her kosode. Bite marks on places that would raise her students' brows when they see her tomorrow in school. But that was Utahime's problem. This was still part of her punishment for a crime she didn't know she committed.

But Gojo deemed himself forgiving and generous. He wouldn't torture Utahime without an accompanying pleasure. Pain and pleasure, they were always intertwined. So, as he continued his onslaught at the dip of her breasts, Gojo grinded his hips against her cunt, earning a loud moan from his prisoner. He did it again, rubbing his bulge against her naked cunt and grinding to his own beat. The fabric of his jeans abraded against her naked core, the sweet friction prodded Utahime towards the edge. A sudden urge knotted her stomach - a sudden need to be filled up by him. She was already at a point where Utahime was aware his mouth and tongue weren't enough anymore. Not even his dexterous fingers could offer her the relief her body longed for. Utahime needed Gojo to fill her up.

Utahime squirmed under him and moved her hips to match his. It was her silent way of saying, she needed him inside her now.

"Sa-Sa-to…ru…"

But Gojo refused to listen.

"Sa-Sato…ru-mnm."

And Gojo Saturo refused to let her speak. He had full dominion over her whole body. Utahime could only climb to her peak when he said she could. She would only climax if Gojo allowed. Gojo was done with her when he said he was done with her. Until then, he was going to give her a taste but not the full course.

Not yet, at least.

Utahime swore against his mouth, losing her mind at the sensation of something vibrating against her thigh.

It was his phone ringing in his pocket.

Utahime groaned in protest when his mouth left hers and his hips stopped moving. He fished out the phone in his pocket and tossed it on the side without even checking who it was that was disturbing them. It landed beside Utahime, giving her a glimpse of the caller ID. Ijichi was calling.

Gojo ignored the phone and returned to his onslaught of her neck, biting then sucking. His phone went to sleep and then vibrated back to life. Still Ijichi. The name and the implication of his persistent calling were enough to sober Utahime up, yanking her back to reality.

"Gojo, it's Ijichi—ahh!"

Utahime's senses may have returned but Gojo was still on high and her mentioning Ijichi's name had Gojo bursting a blood vessel. He unceremoniously sank his teeth into her skin as punishment. Letting another man's name slip out of her lips while he pleasured her was another capital offense in his book.

"Hey! Ugh."

Utahime fought against the delicious mix of pain and pleasure, mustering enough strength to rip her hands free from his hold.

"Gojo!"

She might have been a bit harsh there, gripping the locks of Gojo's hair in her fist and pulling him off from the hollow of her neck to get his attention. But true to Gojo fashion, he liked some little pain, letting out a groan of pleasure.

"It might be urgent."

Utahime stared into his blue eyes, watching his dilated pupils slowly readjust to the situation. His face was still flushed, hair all messy from Utahime's pulling, half his face covered in Utahime's saliva or cum or both but his gaze was still so hungry.

Gojo rose to his knees, combed his hair with his fingers, and evened his breath as he did. When he could finally form words, Gojo ordered Utahime to stay where she was. The look on his blue eyes demanded her to not move even a muscle until his return. Then, Gojo fully detached himself from her.

He wasn't in the room anymore. His absence allowed air to blow on Utahime's damp cunt. The cold snapping her legs closed. Utahime was left alone in his room. Gojo's heat and curse energy he brought with him as he went out to meet Ijichi at the main door, she assumed. Utahime climbed down the bed to look for his discarded t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over her head. She didn't have to look at herself in the mirror to know how messy her hair was. She must have looked crazy.

Utahime sat down at the edge of the bed and waited, remembering Gojo's stern order for her to stay right there. A muffled conversation traveled to where she was. Gojo might have let Ijichi inside his apartment as the exchange got a little louder. Straining her ears to hear more clearly, she realized it wasn't an exchange. Only Gojo's voice was loud – almost violent. Utahime could only imagine how scared Ijichi might be receiving the grunt of Gojo's frustration.

Utahime expelled an exasperated breath. She ought to appease her man and save poor Ijichi from his misplaced fury. Only she could do that.

"Get lost!"

Gojo's loud voice and rude behavior pulled her off the bed and towards the door when suddenly, his bedroom door swung open. Utahime didn't get that far when Gojo stepped through the frame, and back into the bedroom. He frowned at her when she clearly disobeyed his instruction not to lift a finger off the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"Was that Ijichi?"

"What's it to you?"

After all that went down on that bed, Utahime couldn't believe he was still as unreasonable as he was this morning. Granting, all they did was for Utahime's benefit and Gojo has yet to have his turn, that was his fault. Utahime offered to suck his dick but he pinned her down and dry-humped the life out of her.

"What's gotten into you?"

Now she's mad.

But Gojo only answered her by repeating his earlier question.

"I asked where you were going."

She didn't feel obligated to answer him but still she did because his eyes were seething in anger. Utahime knew she shouldn't fight fire with fire or they'd both burn to ashes. And since, apparently, she's the only adult in this relationship, because Gojo was being on a whole new level of brat, she expelled a breath to calm her nerves.

"You were screaming at Ijichi for no reason. I was coming to get you."

Just a few strides with those long legs and Gojo was standing right in front of Utahime, affronting her again.

"In this?"

In his shirt that only reached above the knee? Without underwear? With her still fucking wet and leaking with her own juices? Gojo saw red.

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Utahime?"

Utahime shuddered. It was the first time she saw that kind of rage in Gojo. She took a step back, trying to put some safe distance between them but Gojo wasn't having it. He matched her steps until the back of her knees hit the side of his bed.

"Gojo…" She coaxed him because Gojo looked ready to pounce at anything. She knew Gojo was never going to hit her. But with the way he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, he looked like he was capable of doing so. She knew better not to poke the angry bear. "ss everything okay?"

Gojo didn't respond and Utahime felt like melting under his heavy stare. But she willed herself to gulp down her apprehension because Gojo would never hurt her. Not without her permission, at least. She managed to take a step toward him. If she wanted to understand this stranger, if she wanted to tame this animal, she needed to show him that she wasn't afraid. She reached out to him, gently placing a hand on his cheek. There was no need for a safe space between them.

"What's wrong?"

"He's still a man, Utahime."

That's it. That was the cause of their fight this morning. When some stranger was, in Gojo's crazy eyes, being overly familiar with Utahime. When that punk opened the door for her at the restaurant, offered to lead her to their table for the meeting, and tried to place a hand on the small of her back which Utahime later shrugged off as nothing but just him being polite.

Gojo wasn't a jealous man. They could freely flirt with his Utahime because she would never entertain them. Not when Gojo existed in her world. He was the center of it. No man could come close.

But he couldn't help but feel like sticking his fist down the throats of any men who would try to touch her or even think about touching her. Any man.

But wasn't it enough that he was the only one allowed to touch her? To see her naked? To fuck her senseless, drive her crazy, and mess her all up?

"He's your friend."

"A friend who would still think about fucking my girlfriend in my fucking shirt." He spat.

"Gojo!"

It was ridiculous. Such a ridiculous notion that Utahime had to reprimand that type of behavior.

Gojo didn't say anything. Didn't try to give her further shit. He knew he was wrong. He knew he was being petty and ridiculous. But he was right. No man in their right mind would find Utahime in that shirt and not think about touching her. Because that's all he could think about.

Utahime flinched when Gojo suddenly tugged at his t-shirt that she was wearing.

"Didn't I tell you to take this off?"

Utahime ought to punish that nonsense. If he was going to act like a child, Utahime would treat him like a child. She should just march out of that room, get onto the next train and leave for Kyoto. That should teach him a lesson. Easy. So, she must have been really out of her mind when she told him…

"You do it then."

She must be really out of her mind when she let him fuck her raw for the first time. Utahime must have gone completely mad when she lets him cum inside her twice.


Then morning came and Utahime was first to wake, not by choice. She grumbled at the urgency to rise and return to Kyoto. She retrieved her uniform from the drier, which Gojo completely forgot to turn off. Her clothes were a mess – shrunk and completely unwearable. Now she had to raid his closet again, look for something appropriate for the train ride back to Kyoto, and suffer the fuss he was going to make out of it. Since he made so much of a big deal about wearing his t-shirt yesterday. She was contemplating her choices as she scanned his hanged clothes and folded jeans when a pair of arms snaked around her waist, both palms resting comfortably below her belly. She caught a whiff of his scent when the owner of those arms peppered her exposed shoulders with light, lazy kisses.

"Up so early?"

Utahime could place her own smell on him too.

"I need to hurry or I'll miss the train."

At the reality of her leaving back for Kyoto, Gojo tightened her arms around her and pulled the distracted Utahime against him. His feather kisses made their way up to that special place where the neck met the shoulders.

"No need to rush. I'll teleport you."

Utahime was the one who broke the comfortable embrace they were in, turned around to face him.

"How convenient that you forgot to offer to teleport me yesterday."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Her seriousness was undermined by the way she rose on her toes to wound her arms around his neck. Gojo threw his head back laughing. They both knew he wasn't going to let her leave Tokyo without a good pounding. Nay, the best. He was going on a long mission after today and he wasn't sure when he was going to be back. It was the news that Ijichi lamentably brought to him last night. So, of course, he was going to fuck her hard so she would have something to look back to when she felt the need for release and he was not yet around to give it to her. Same as for him. He needed that mental image of Utahime riding him, bouncing on his cock, and screaming for more as he slipped in and out of her locked in his memory for the nights that he could only touch himself. Now, he had a new one to add to the vault – Utahime holding onto him as Gojo rammed into her and begged him to cum inside her.

"Hime, are you sure it was okay for me to…"

Utahime distractedly hummed an answer as she was now the one placing feather kisses on his exposed neck, mirroring what Gojo was doing to her earlier.

"What if you got the dates wrong?"

It wasn't a problem for him, actually. If it happened, they were both old enough to raise one. It's going to be a big change but it didn't scare Gojo. What terrified him for a second was Utahime's answer.

"Then I'm going to be a single mom."

Fear crossed his face until he saw a glint of humor in her brown eyes.

"As if I'll ever let that happen!"

Nope. His pride and his clan's honor would never let him knock Utahime up and leave her. Most especially, not his feelings.

He kissed Utahime on the mouth, this one had them both tumbling into his closet, knocking the tower of piled clothes and grabbing on the ones on the hanger. She was still wearing his t-shirt, the same one that caused all that commotion last night. Utahime moaned into his lips when Gojo lightly brushed his hand up her thighs and realized her red lace was still lying around somewhere on the floor of his bedroom.

Reading his intention, Utahime told him she was going to be late for her class. Gojo probably didn't hear her or refused to heed as he hoisted her up around his waist, eager to get some second round of Utahime loving, or was it third or fourth? He lost count.

"Gojo!" She laughed without breaking the kiss as Gojo walked them both back to his bed.

She plopped on the mattress still chuckling when Gojo turned her over on all fours. He pushed the shirt off her in one swift maneuver. Apparently, he was used to it and was now an expert at taking clothing off of Utahime.

In that position and with his hard cock pushing its tip into her wet opening, Utahime was singing a different tune.

"Do you have a condom? It's a bit risky today."

The anticipation of Gojo pushing his full length into her, filling her to a halt, had Utahime breathless, shaking and trembling.

"What's life without risk, Utahime?"

Gojo unceremoniously pummeled his full length into Utahime, so deep and so full. The tip of his cock kissed her womb. It felt so fucking good that Utahime took the lead even in that position. She pushed herself forward, Gojo's hard dick sliding out of her vagina until the tip remained inside her, then pushed herself backward, sheathing him completely within her walls again. They kept at it until Utahime cried in ecstasy and Gojo sowed his seed into her. That's three times now. Utahime let Gojo cum inside her three times before he finally teleported them to her bedroom in Kyoto. There, Utahime let him cum a fourth time.

Rude was a description that perfectly described Gojo. Never one to be polite. So, he didn't wait for Utahime to finish showering when he followed her into her bathroom and pressed her against the wall. This time, he shot his cum on her back just for the fun of it, earning a slap on his arm. Whatever extra time they gained from teleporting they squandered with Utahime flat on her back, then her stomach, then, finally, all fours. It wasn't until the Kyoto sensei only had a minute or so before the bell rang did Gojo agreed to teleport her to the school. She gave him one last peck on the lips before she started toward the building.

"Iori!" Gojo called after her.

Utahime turned around, one brow raised at him unusually calling her by her last name. Gojo never called her Iori.

"Enjoy it while you can."

Gojo lived to torment her, that's what Utahime thought the whole day. She couldn't fully concentrate on her lessons because of what he said before he disappeared on his long mission – the little fucker! – leaving Utahime to deal with her overthinking.

What did he mean? Enjoy what? Being his girlfriend? Did that jerk plan to play around with other women while he was on that long-ass mission and get rid of her after he came back? She called him to clarify but she had more questions than answers after he hung up.

What the fuck was he playing at? Would he really break up with her after she let him fuck her raw? After he shot his load inside? The fuck.

Utahime went to bed seething. Half accepting that if the gods decided to fuck her life up, she's gonna be a single mother. Even if their relationship was now common knowledge, she's gonna say she slept with a rando and he split. Let people think she one-upped the Great Gojo Saturo. Half hoped he was just pulling her tails with his vague, stupid answers. When she decided she was ready to put this Gojo-issue to bed, she felt a breeze blow at her back, a familiar disturbance in the air caused by his teleportation. She wasn't going to turn around to face him. She was mad at him. Even if he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him on the bed. She's gonna stay mad at that crazy idiot of a boyfriend. Even if she felt a different warmth when he sneaked his hand inside her shirt and felt her belly for something that still wasn't there. Even if that kind of answered all her questions and resolved all her doubts, she was still going to turn his back on him. Served him right for causing that kind of mental torture on poor Utahime.

The next morning, he didn't wait for her to wake up. He probably left early before anyone from the mission noticed he was gone. But something was different in the air that morning which Utahime couldn't put a finger on. She felt lighter but also heavier at the same time. When she passed by her dresser, she saw his note, which read:

SINCE YOU CAN'T WAIT
IMPATIENT SENPAI.

P.S. DON'T LOSE IT OR I'LL PUNISH YOU

Not even a signature on the note but she could tell by the childish handwriting. She flipped the piece of paper over to look for some explanation of what this thing was that she couldn't lose.

That's when she saw the silver ring on her finger and felt the weight of the band for the first time. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the sobs from escaping.

So that's what he meant. Iori. She should enjoy being called Iori-sensei as long as she could.

Because soon, she will be Gojo Utahime.

Her body felt so heavy that all Iori Utahime could do was let gravity pull her down on the floor and bawl her eyes out.

"You idiot."


Author's Note: Ending 2023 with my first one-shot of my current obsession: #gojohime. This was originally a twitter thread that turned into a long one-shot. lol. Here's hoping to write more #gojohime and #gruvia!