Three months before Itadori Yuji consumed Sukuna's Finger and changed the very trajectory of the jujutsu world, Gojo had an incredible and memorable one-night stand.
It hadn't been intentional at first. He'd gone out with the express purpose of observing people in their natural habitat. As megalomaniacal as it sounded, Gojo was well-aware of the lofty position he occupied in jujutsu society and the world at large. In his free time, he knew and understood the worth, merit, and import of coming back down to earth to be amongst those whom he was born to protect.
In other words: Gojo loved people watching.
Tonight was no different from the others, and he'd consumed enough sugar that he was wired. Gojo enjoyed dancing as much as the next person, and he was unsurprisingly good at it. So of course he found himself at the Shibuya Spot–a warehouse that was clearly in dire need of sprucing up that had been turned into a rave hotspot where Tokyo's night creatures could gather in the dark, laser-strewn space and dance until they sweat, until the sun came out and they scurried back home while regular people were starting their workday.
The music choice for tonight was deep, throbbing techno. It put Gojo in a mood, watching the lasers and lights paint the crowd, illuminating sweat-slick bodies clad in all manner of futuristic black clothing. The best part of going to these raves that he knew were barely legal was that he did not stand out wearing his sunglasses indoors, clad in all black as he was. It made watching everyone much easier.
The other good thing about these raves was the cursed energy output was lower than most other gatherings of non-sorcerers. His eyes hurt less, and the flow of cursed energy was almost synergistic. Between the music, the crowd, the drugs, and the alcohol, everyone seemed to be on the same wave.
Gojo was perched on a crate near the back of the crowd, just enough out of the way that he could observe in peace. He saw some sikes of cursed energy, likely low-level curse users enjoying a night off, so he paid them no mind. Likely they felt his cursed energy and were willing to behave. He was off the clock if one could consider such a thing. At some point, Gojo slipped through the crowd toward the bar, little more than a booth with a neon sign, and a flushed and busty rave bunny serving drinks. He'd been requesting the sweetest juices they had available, and no one questioned why he didn't imbibe alcohol, nor did they tease him for it.
Several people offered him substances, including lollipops imbued with cocaine or acid [dealer's choice]. Gojo considered it before ultimately turning them down politely. His eyesight was trippy enough without the additive of a psychedelic. And cocaine was actually disgusting, despite it having the same stimulating effects as his sugar rushes.
He thanked the bartender for her service, tipping generously before turning to find a new perch to observe the rave from. He'd found another crate and settled when he saw her. He didn't know why he noticed her so immediately, and looking back he probably should have made the connection. All he knew was that her presence was a singularity on the dance floor, even when he lasers weren't illuminating her.
She was tall. She towered over most of the people on the floor, and she was wearing a pair of black sunglasses like many of the other attendees. Gojo's eyes saw her as clear as if she were standing in the sunlight: 6'2" at least, Amazonian in height, and built like a fighter. He saw full feminine curves made harsher by hardened muscle. She threw her head back in private ecstasy, and her braids flew elegantly around her head, her plump lips parted. Her nut brown skin was slick with sweat, and Gojo could make out the path the sweat took along her skin.
Her dancing was exquisite.
She rode the rhythm as if she alone could hear every kick, every 808, every throbbing bassline. Her curves undulated in concert, lending her a more controlled and effortless appearance to her dancing than the wild swaying and thrashing of those around her. Gojo smiled, and finished his drink, heading back to the bar right when the Amazonian warrior left the dance floor, making a beeline for the same bar stand.
As she got closer, Gojo got a better look at her. He was slightly taller than her, and she stopped short, turning her face to look directly at him.
"You in line?" She asked, awarding him a cursory smile. Gojo smirked.
"I am," he said. "Loved your dancing, by the way." He learned that the easiest way to put people at ease in these environments was to compliment them in sincerity. She smiled, receiving the compliment with an easy confidence.
"Thanks," she said. "You dance?"
Gojo shrugged as they moved up in the line.
"I've been known to bust a move or two," he says with a grin. The woman laughs, full-throated and amused.
"Bust a move?" She asked. "What are you, thirty?"
Gojo bristled a little but took it in stride. "I'm 28 if you must know. I'd say I've got about two more years before my presence at these events delves into the territory of concern."
The woman laughed again. "Aw don't be like that, baby, I was just fuckin' with you. There's no age limit on these things. I'm gonna be old and gray and still throwing ass on the dance floor."
Gojo decided he liked this woman. She gave him the air of someone who was brash, who wasn't afraid to speak her mind, and gave as good as she got. He ordered another sweet drink, and she ordered a Jack and Coke.
"So," he said, "what's your name, if you don't mind my asking?"
The woman sips her drink like the bartender didn't "break" her wrist pouring mostly whiskey. Gojo admired people who could handle liquor. He simply was not built for it.
"Sundari," she said, and he could see her eyes peering at him from behind her large sunglasses. He said her name back to her, watching her lips curve into a pleased smirk at his pronunciation.
"Beautiful name," he said. "Beautiful woman too."
Sundari grinned around her small straw.
"Oh I bet you say that to all the girls," she teased. "What's your name, stranger?"
Gojo grinned at her. "Gojo. Gojo Satoru."
Sundari mouthed his name to herself and he took that moment to focus on her beautiful lips, still wet with whiskey and lipgloss.
"Gojo," she said with a smile, as if she was pleased with how his name felt on her tongue. At least, that's what Gojo hoped that sexy little smirk meant.
"Want some company on the dance floor?" He asked, reckless and curious about this enigma who moved like a force of nature through the crowd, which parted for her like she owned the floor.
She glanced at him over one shoulder, smirking in clear invitation, and he noted the tattoos, his brow furrowing briefly before he put it out of his mind and joined her on the dance floor.
Sundari and Gojo danced for what felt like hours, and Gojo knew from her body language–her sexy, sexy body language–that she was supremely impressed with his ability to keep up. He got close a few times, and she invited him in, their lips hovering dangerously close before she danced away from him. He quietly laughed. It was like a damned nature documentary and they were doing some sort of mating ritual. She sized him up with open appraisal, and he did the same. They traded no words during their dance, and it became clear to the others on the floor that the two of them were locked in for the evening.
Gojo offered to get them drinks, his hair dripping with sweat, and she obliged him.
"Jack and Coke, right?" He asked and Sunari lowered her sunglasses a fraction and winked at him, giving him her approval of his need to impress her.
"Good boy," she said with a grin and Gojo felt a flush creep up to his ears. Oh why did she have to say that?
He went to the bar, bought the drinks, and turned to see her dancing again, and one little gnat buzzing around her trying desperately to get her attention. Sundari moved with the grace of a trained warrior–or dancer, he couldn't be sure–and evaded the clear intrusion of the little gnat's groping hands as he attempted to hold her hips, which swayed in a serpentine evasion from his grasp.
Gojo was smirking with smug maliciousness when he returned.
"Your drink, baby," he said in a rich voice, peering at the little gnat as Sundari took her whiskey and slurped it down.
"Thank you," she said with a smirk as he joined her in dance again.
Gojo couldn't recall the last time he simply let himself be thoughtless for a while. He focused on Sundari, who seemed unburdened by inner turmoil, and danced for the sheer joy of the movement she could create. And Gojo indulged that energy wholeheartedly, finding a rare moment of joy in the hours spent in that sweaty warehouse.
But dawn was coming, and the last set of the night was winding down. Sundari slurped the dregs of her drink and stepped away from the crowd momentarily.
"Hey," she said to Gojo. "You wanna get out of here? By the time this is over I'm sure there's a breakfast joint nearby that'll serve us."
Gojo wanted to agree but he would have rather had breakfast at his apartment and…her for a second breakfast.
"I got a better idea," he said. "How about we go to my place and I whip us up a nice breakfast and we can watch the sunrise over Tokyo. That sound good with you, beautiful?"
Sundari chuckled. "You don't have to sell me on it, Gojo Satoru," she drawled. "I had plans to fuck you since I spotted you perched on that crate hours ago."
That sent a delightful shiver down his spine and most of his blood rushing to cock.
He'd never really been hunted like that before. This was new territory.
Sundari peered at him again, and he thought her eyes had an almost auburn glow to them momentarily but blamed the flashing lights and jittering laser tracing.
"How do you like your coffee?" He asked.
"Black, two sugars," Sundari said back.
"Waffles or pancakes?"
"Whatever is easiest for you."
"Are you on birth control?"
"IUD. You wanna see if you can knock it loose?"
Gojo stared at her, then, and for a moment they held one another's gaze, the tension between them threatening to snap. He would have fucked her right there on the dance floor, but instead he reached out to take her hand, and then he was leading her out of that sweaty warehouse into the cool spring night in the middle of Shibuya. He debated how to get to his place without warping before he got a good look at Sundari in the light.
She took her sunglasses off, and looked at him with a pair of eyes the color of garnet. He noted the scars beneath her eyes, settled on her cheekbones. She was as beautiful in the artificial neon of Shibuya as she had been in the darkness of the warehouse.
"Fuck you really are gorgeous," he breathed. Sundari chuckled, and he saw the heat warming and flushing her brown skin.
"You're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, Gojo," she said.
"Satoru." He corrected. Sundari's brow furrowed.
"You sure?" She asked. Gojo grinned.
"That's what I want to hear you scream when I make you come."
It was Sundari's turn to be taken aback, and she held his gaze like she had just heard him say something truly interesting, because he had.
"That so?" She asked, and stepped closer, unafraid of him when she really, really should have been. Gojo thought about how much of a monster he was and how this woman with a face like a petulant queen was not afraid of what kind of stress he wanted to put her pussy through.
"Yeah," he said as she leaned in close, her lips hovering a hair's breadth from his. "Yeah," he breathed before their mouths sealed over one another in their first, mind melting kiss of the night.
Gojo could taste the warmth of the whiskey on her tongue, and she could taste the sugar on his. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his long fingers cradling her skull as they kissed. It was at once tender and passionate, and Sundari kissed him as if she was seeking to imprint the signature of the very sun on his mouth. She licked into his mouth, nibbled his lower lip tenderly, and kept her eyes on his as they pulled away. There was nothing shy about her, and Gojo loved that.
Their cab ride was rife with tension, and Gojo rested his hand on her thigh, stroking tenderly, and occasionally he drifted higher to give feather-light touches to the region around her cunt, delighted when she shivered and bit her lip in mischievous pleasure and anticipation, shooting him a knowing look.
When they arrived at his building and took the elevator up to his penthouse, she didn't seem to feel out of place at all, and Gojo had to resist the urge to just fuck her in the elevator. That didn't stop them from engaging in some heavy petting, and Gojo took an opportunity to corner her away from the elevator's camera, slipping his hand beneath the waistband of her leggings to tease her lace-clad cunt, finding it hot and wet already.
Fuck he wanted her bad.
Sundari let him lead her into his penthouse, didn't even ask for a tour as they skipped awkward pleasantries and got right to kissing one another as if they were lovers who had been parted for too long. Gone was the tenderness of their kiss in Shibuya Crossing, replaced by the feral clacking of teeth, the impatient grunts and growls of two people who wanted nothing but to crash into one another until exhaustion defeated them both.
At each stage of their furious undressing, Gojo put his mouth on whatever flesh he could find: from her neck [he loved kissing her right at the center of her throat, and feeling her voice vibrate beneath his mouth], to the strong slope of her shoulder where the two black concentric rings were tattooed, down her arm where two black bands were tattooed at her wrists, and along her palm and fingertips. He kissed her breasts, sucked lewdly at her nipples until he coaxed a true whine from her throat, silently smug in victory to have stirred her. He kissed the taut, hard planes of her stomach, tongued a wet path around her belly button, before his lips grazed the lace edge of her panties.
Sundari looked down at him, her gaze hot and expectant.
"Don't stop on my account, Satoru ." Why did she say his name like that? It made his cock twitch.
"Wasn't planning to," he said, and felt the difference in them, even as he knelt before her, prepared to do one of the things he did best but could not openly brag about alongside being the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.
He traced the edge of her panties again with his fingertips, chuckling when he saw the tiny muscles in her thighs twitch from the strain and sensation. Then, he hooked his fingers and slid the gusset of her panties aside, revealing her swollen, dripping cunt.
"How long have you been wet for me?" He asked. Sundari parted her thighs a little more, even as she took a deep breath as his fingertips traced her slick lips, purposely avoiding where she wanted him most.
"If I tell you since I saw you would you believe me?" She asked, her voice coming a little breathless as Gojo just barely grazed her clit, making the muscles in her thighs jump.
"I'm flattered," he replied. "Why didn't you approach sooner?"
He gathered some of her slick on her fingers, watched a few droplets drip onto the floor as she got wetter from the contact.
"Was too busy dancing, baby," she said. "You're having way too much fun down there."
Gojo grinned up at her, cerulean eyes sparkling.
"I am," he said, and he parted her cunt with his thumbs, exposing the swollen bud of her clit. Without warning, he leaned in, fastened his mouth around it, and sucked.
Sundari's head dropped back against the fridge and bit her lip on a whimper. Her effort to try and hide her pleasure only made Gojo more aggressive and he opened his mouth wider to encompass more of her, his tongue delving deep into her cunt, working her until she was dripping down his chin and his jaw started to ache.
Sundari cursed with a sailor's eloquence, and she reached blindly for anything to hold onto, one hand fixed and threaded in Gojo's soft white hair as a pair of galactic eyes looked up at her and saw her. The other hand grasped the top of the fridge for dear life, and she worked to move her hips against his working mouth, the lewd, wet squelching and her moans the only sound in the kitchen while dawn spilled into his penthouse, backlighting the entire skyline and painting Sundari's skin in gold.
Gojo shut his eyes and focused. He sucked and licked, and then his fingers joined the fray, first the middle finger, which slid easily within her, making her cry out in surprise and delight. Then his index finger joined, and he got a feel for her rather intense muscle control. Her lust-slick walls gripped his fingers greedily, pulling them in down to the knuckle and gripping them which made it difficult for him to withdraw.
"Hm?" Gojo hummed around her clit as he opened his eyes to look up at her. He saw her ribcage expand and contract as her moans became a whine in her chest, her breath came out in hard, heavy pants. She was close–he could tell–she was so wet there was slick dripping from his chin, along his neck, and droplets pooling on the floor. She wouldn't have been the first to spill herself all over his face and his nice floors.
But from the way she tasted, she was definitely becoming one of his favorites.
" Satoru… !" She hissed his name in a desperate plea and Gojo didn't let up, and focused his tongue on her clit, sucking and licking until Sundari's head thumped against the fridge and she let out a long, keening cry, squirting all over his face. Gojo rubbed his face into her pussy, and briefly entertained drowning in it.
He pulled away from her clit with a lewd, wet pop .
"Mmm," he said, licking his lips as he savored her flavor. "This is some of the best pussy I've ever tasted."
"I'm sure," Sundari breathed, her tone a tad wry. Gojo placed a tender kiss to the inside of her thighs, and one to her cunt which made her gasp as he gave her clit one last teasing flick before standing.
"Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?" Gojo asked smugly.
Sundari playfully flicked his shoulder, smirking.
"Be a good boy and take me to bed," she said, and then ran her tongue over her lips. Gojo would have fucked her right there against the fridge but instead he took her hand and led to his bedroom and she smiled when she aw his large bed beneath a large skylight. The sun wasn't overhead yet but dawn illuminated his soft linen sheets, and she mounted the empty bed on all fours. He liked the way her cunt looked, barely restrained by her panties, which she peeled off slowly as she rolled over, spreading her legs so that he could see her in full.
"Such a pretty pussy," he said, and slid out of his briefs, his cock springing free, a pearly drop at the tip. Sundari sat back on her hands, but she lifted one to beckon him closer. Gojo went to her, crawling onto the bed, seeking a place between her spread legs.
She lifted one leg and planted a foot on his chest to halt him.
"Ask for permission," she said quietly. Gojo's hand came to capture her ankle, and he saw her pupils go wide as she registered his true strength.
"Permission to ruin that pretty pussy?" He asked, turning his head to pepper her ankle and calf with kisses. "I only got one taste, I wanna make sure she remembers me."
Sundari chuckled, a husky, sensual sound that made his cock twitch and she noted it with a raised brow.
"That's not how you ask for permission, Satoru," her voice turned stern, and she pressed the ball of her foot into his chest, prompting him to let go of her ankle, she dragged her foot lower, along his sculpted and toned abdomen. She just barely brushed his cock with her foot and he let out a choked sound.
"Care to try again?" She offered, looking highly amused.
Gojo eyed her pussy, naked and wet, her clit poking from between those velvety folds just begging for him to touch it or suck it or do whatever it took to make her come again.
But the way she was tightening the reins was making his cock throb and he didn't want to beg her but he couldn't move without her permission.
"Please…" the word was so quiet the vented air could have stolen it away. Sundari brushed his cocked with her foot again.
"Please, what, Satoru? Use that talented tongue and ask me for what you want."
Gojo knew he could end this power exchange physically, but something about the cool, unassailable confidence with which she made her demands compelled him to submit.
"Please let me fuck that pretty pussy, Sundari," he said, at once ashamed and privately in relish of the whine in his voice. "Been wanting to fill you up since I saw you. Please let me fuck you. Let me fuck you until the sun goes down again."
Sundari chuckled.
"I like you begging, Satoru," she said. "I like when you have manners. You're so poetic. I bet that tongue of yours flusters all the girls you bring here."
She stroked his cock with her foot again. Gojo liked that her toes were so well-cared for, painted a glossy but vibrant blush color. She took her foot away and he heard a small sound escape his throat that sounded suspiciously like disappointment.
"Come here, Satoru," she murmured, her voice like warm honey, rich velvet, and smoke all at once. Satoru crawled between her legs, and in one swift movement she flipped them over. It shocked him so much he almost activated his technique, his fighter's instincts momentarily brought to the fore.
But Sundari had other plans.
She straddled him and immediately trapped his throbbing cock beneath her cunt. She slid her soaking sex along his shaft, coating it and Gojo moaned, letting out a soft reverent swear.
"Fuck, you're k-killing me baby," he breathed. "Let me in, already. You're so wet and I need to be inside you."
"Patience," Sundari said, and wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking a few times before positioning the head at her entrance. She rubbed the head along her dripping slit until Gojo's eyes widened and he was panting. And when she saw him at the edge of crazy, she suddenly sank down onto him. Gojo let out a sound that could only be described as somewhere between a moan and a howl.
"Fuuucckkkk, that pussy feels so fucking good, baby," he groaned as Sundari fully seated on his cock. He watched her pussy stretch around him, licked his lips as he moved his hips, seeking the friction of her slick, wet walls.
Sundari shifted again, quick and confident, rising into a squat, further tightening her cunt around his dick, making him hiss.
"Oh fuck," Gojo breathed, and he only had a moment to prepare as Sundari flashed a grin that would haunt his dreams.
And then she began to move.
Gojo had been ridden before. Countless men and women came and went in his life. He'd seen some Herculean effort by his partners to not only take his cock, which was prodigious in size, but to handle his stamina, which he knew was superhuman. He rarely got anyone willing to ride him like this because of the latter reason, and less because of the former.
You can take it , he'd always say when one of his partners would start whining and fretting about him being too big as if they hadn't gotten a free sample before he ever invited them to cross his threshold.
Sundari was not one of these partners.
Not only did she take him and take him with consummate skill, she claimed him. Her body was strong–nearly a match for him–and she bounced on his cock like it was her personal fucktoy and Gojo could not have been happier to be reduced to such an illicit thing. She rode him with vigor and skill, bracing herself as he gripped her ass, squeezing as she came down and his hips came up.
The impact made Sundari groan, and soon the room was filled with the rapid sounds of moist skin slapping against moist skin, lewd moans, and lurid calls of Sundari's name throughout Gojo's sun-drenched penthouse.
Sundari grinned all the while, brown skin slick with sweat, garnet eyes wild with pleasure and power alike. Gojo had never felt so goddamn good in his life. This woman wanted to own him and wasn't afraid of him. She didn't run from his dick, and instead she swore at him, bucking like she breaking him in, a stubborn stallion.
And Gojo made her work for every stroke, fighting for dear life not to come too soon if only to savor this prime pussy he'd been so lucky to experience. Fuck she felt so good, she smelled so good, and the way she looked fucking herself on his cock was probably going to be front and center of his wank bank for the next several weeks.
"You close, baby?" She asked, and laughed when Gojo grunted against the onslaught of what he came to understand were deliberate contractions and release of her walls while she rode him. Her muscle control made him want to weep.
He almost did weep. He definitely drooled a little.
"Sundari…" His voice sounded foreign to his ears, a desperate whine of her name. "I'm so goddamn close. I wanna fill this fuckin– ngh –fill this pussy up so bad."
Sundari switched and shifted again, coming down to her knees to shift the angle of his cock in a way that stroked her most tender and sensitive regions. Gojo moaned at the new change, his hands went to her hips to grasp them and spread her cheeks apart so that she could take as much of his cock as he could give her. That was to say: all of it. And she took it.
"You like this pussy, baby?" She asked. "Wanna fill this pussy with your come?"
"Yes yesyes …!" Gojo moaned in agreement. And he dug his fingertips into her hips hard enough to leave his prints on her marrow as he felt his orgasm creeping up on him, making his balls tingle and his lower back build in pressure.
"Not yet…" Sundari panted. "Be a good boy and make me come again, Satoru. Are you a good boy?"
"Yes!" Gojo cried. Fuck. How had she turned the tables like this? He reached forward, found her clit and stroked it with his thumb. He felt good when she answered him with a keening wail that spiraled up to the skylight above them.
"Yeah, that's it," he growled, reclaiming the power in their exchange. "That's it…come for me, baby. Come all over my dick. Love this pretty pussy."
He really did.
And Sundari did come for him, and after he'd flipped them over, pinned her legs over his shoulders, and pounded into her until he was sure there was and imprint of them in his mattress. And he came hard, emptying his balls into her until they felt it leaking out and pooling beneath her. Gojo gave a few more ragged thrusts, fucking his seed back into her, and sighed. Both of them lay there, sweaty and panting for breath before Gojo finally released her legs and slowly pulled out of her with a wet, slick sound that made them both groan and shudder.
"Fuck that was…" Gojo breathed.
"Incredible." Sundari said, her voice softer now that she was sated. Gojo grinned. He could not disagree. He climbed out of bed and padded into the bathroom, emerging after a few moments with a warm towel. He wiped Sundari down, careful and tender, kissing the places where he'd bit and sucked marks into her warm, brown skin.
Sundari kissed him too, nibbling at his sleek jawline, and kissed his pulse, which raced a little more under her touch.
"This was wonderful, Satoru, thank you," she murmured. Gojo grinned.
"I aim to please," he said and she laughed as they kissed again, tender and indulgent, saturated with the post-coital glow and easiness of two people who had seen each other's most intimate parts.
They slid beneath the sheets and duvet, and tangled in one another's arms, legs wrapped around one another. For a while they lay like that, and Gojo smiled at her as she dozed off. As she slept, Gojo watched her, his expression pensive, cerulean eyes hard and calculating.
He'd seen the tattoos on her back, the familiar script that ran the length of her spine. He could detect no cursed energy from it and so he wondered if it was mere coincidence.
Gojo did not believe in coincidences when it came to jujutsu. Still, he learned that caution was a better preparation than wild accusations and unfounded suspicion.
He activated his technique, just in case.