The Price of Being Untouchable

Day 7 — Morning · the flame domain pit

Morning light filters down into the Flame Domain Pit, turning the dying blue embers of Sukuna's Fuga into pale violet ash. Before the rest of the villa can even stir for breakfast, Satoru's tall frame cuts across the concrete, stepping directly into your path to corner you against the stone ledge. Unshielded blue eyes flash down at you with lazy, unbothered arrogance, his hand catching your wrist where Nanami's heavy watch sits strapped to your skin.

Satoru Gojo: "You know, running off to Nanami the second the cameras cut is bad for my image. Good thing I don't care about my image when I can just pull you back."

🫦 Pull him down by his collar

Your fingers hook sharply into the collar of Satoru's oversized designer shirt, tugging him down until his breath brushes hot and uneven against your lips. He doesn't resist for even a fraction of a second; Limitless collapses completely as his weight presses forward, his free hand sliding up from your waist to cup the back of your neck with a low, breathless chuckle. The blue ash in the pit settled around your feet grows still, but the sudden, fierce heat between his palms tells you he isn't anywhere close to pulling back.

Satoru Gojo: "You really love giving the gallery a heart attack before breakfast, don't you?"

Let’s really give them something to choke on breakfast and a show?

Limitless buckles entirely as your pull hauls him down, his mouth crashing against yours with sudden, uninhibited heat that rattles the silent pit. His free hand slides up from your waist, fingers tangling brutally deep into your hair to tilt your head back, holding you pinned against his chest while the red broadcast light on the wall overhead flickers to life—capturing every angle of his mouth devouring yours. On the terrace above, a coffee mug snaps sharply against stone as Suguru Geto stops dead in his tracks, his gaze darkening over the stone balustrade.

Satoru Gojo: "God, I love how shameless you are. You really want to give the whole gallery a heart attack before they've even had their coffee?"

💪 Pull his shirt off his shoulder

Your fingers hook into the seam of his designer top, yanking the heavy fabric down over his broad collarbone and exposing the pale, marked skin of his shoulder to the morning sun. Satoru lets out a low, gravelly hum into your mouth, his Limitless completely non-existent as he leans his full weight into your grip, pressing you back against the stone rim of the pit. High above on the terrace, Geto snaps his teacup in two against the marble rail, the sharp crack echoing right as the Director's PA system sputters to life with the morning chime.

Satoru Gojo: "You’re really determined to ruin my shirt before breakfast, aren't you? Good thing you look so cute pulling the shots."

🔥 Demand he takes you upstairs now

Satoru’s laugh hums directly against your throat as his arm tightens like iron around your waist, hoisting you back off the concrete ledge without letting your feet touch the floor for a single beat. He doesn't pull his shirt back over his shoulder; he leaves the pale skin exposed, bright blue eyes flashing with unshielded heat as he spins you toward the grand stone staircase leading up to the suite. On the terrace, Geto discards the broken porcelain into a planter without a word, turning his back completely on the broadcast feeds as Satoru’s fingers slide down to lock securely into your back pocket.

Satoru Gojo: "Upstairs? Before the Director even finishes playing the morning chime? God, Mikasa, you’re trying to ruin me in front of the whole class."

🔥 Drag him up the steps by his belt

Your knuckles haul sharply on the leather of his designer belt, dragging Satoru backward up the first three stone steps of the Flame Pit. He doesn't fight the pull for a single second; he stumbles back with a dark, low laugh, his hands coming down to frame your face and press his unshielded blue gaze flush against yours as the heavy, dark lenses of his sunglasses drop straight into your open coat pocket for keeps. Up on the gallery, Utahime covers her face in sheer disbelief, but Satoru doesn't even glance back—he just wraps one arm under your knees and hoists you cleanly against his chest, kicking open the mahogany doors to the private suite with a heavy, echo-shattering thud.

Satoru Gojo: "If you're pulling me by the belt, Mikasa, you'd better be ready for what happens when we actually reach the top step."

🫦 Drag him straight down onto the mattress

The heavy mahogany doors click shut, sealing out the hum of the broadcast feed and the stares from the terrace gallery. Satoru doesn't bother catching his balance as you drag him down; he lets his full weight crush you into the white linen mattress, his hands immediately pinning your wrists above your head. His unshielded, vivid blue eyes flame with intoxicating heat in the dim morning light, his breath heavy against your neck.

Satoru Gojo: "You're dangerously impatient today, Zen'in. Good thing I don't mind taking orders when they sound like that."

💬 Tease him about Geto's broken teacup

Satoru’s chest rattles against yours with a low, unbothered chuckle, his grip on your wrists loosening just enough to slide his long fingers down between yours, locking your palms together against the pillows. His unshielded, electric-blue eyes curve with sharp, breathless amusement, completely unbothered by the quiet chaos left down on the terrace gallery. Above the heavy mahogany door, the faint chime of the villa's morning loudspeaker sputters out, leaving only the sound of his ragged breathing filling the cool room.

Satoru Gojo: "He was holding that cup so tight I thought the porcelain was going to fuse with his soul. You really know how to ruin a guy's morning routine, don't you?"

💬 "He's going to challenge you to a spar."

Satoru's chest rumbles with a low, wicked chuckle against your collarbone as he leans down, burying his face into the side of your neck. His hands tighten over your fingers, pinning them flat against the mattress while his teeth graze the sensitive skin right above your pulse point. The morning sun cuts through the sheer linen curtains of the private suite, catching the bright blue flash of his unshielded eyes as he smirks up at you.

Satoru Gojo: "Let him. Suguru’s cursed energy tastes like bitter tea when he’s mad, but I’d rather stay right here and watch you explain to the cameras why my collar is torn."

🫦 Bite his lower lip and hold him down

Your teeth catch the soft flesh of his lower lip, tugging firmly until his sharp gasp vibrates through his entire frame. With your hands slammed against his chest, you reverse the leverage, using his own weight to pin his shoulders down into the rumpled white sheets. Satoru doesn't resist for a split second; his hands drop instantly to your hips, his unshielded blue eyes flaring with an intoxicating, wild light as he arches up into your grip, utterly undone by the total surrender of his Limitless. His fingers dig into the fabric of your waist, locking you flush against him as he stares up at you, breathless and completely exposed in the morning sun.

Satoru Gojo: "You bite like you're trying to draw a binding vow out of me, Zen'in. Bad news—I'm already completely yours."

🫦 Drag your lips down to his throat

Your lips trail hot and deliberately down the sharp line of his jaw, dragging along the fluttering pulse point at his throat until his entire ribcage hitches beneath your weight. Satoru's fingers dig deep into your hips, the heat of his bare skin searing through the thin fabric of your shirt as he arches his back into your press, giving you every inch of his unshielded neck. Limitless lies completely dead between you, the air thick with the faint, ozone scent of his unraveled cursed energy. His unmasked blue eyes darkens into something dangerously raw as he tilts his chin back, surrendering the space to you without a single shred of resistance.

Satoru Gojo: "You really don't play fair, Mikasa. If you bite any harder, I'll have to make sure the broadcast cameras catch every single mark you leave."

💪 Command him to stay on his back

You plant one hand flat against the center of his chest, forcing his shoulders down until the heavy bedframe groans against the floor. Satoru doesn't fight the leverage; he lets his spine sink deep into the mattress, his head tilting back against the rumpled pillows while his blue eyes burn up at you with dangerous, unshielded delight. His long fingers remain hooked around your waist, his breath hitching as your weight settles completely over his hips, keeping him pinned exactly where you want him.

Satoru Gojo: "You know, normally people have to pay a curse user half a fortune to get me to lay this still, Zen'in,"

🎬 Shift your weight, tease his waistband

You shift your hips forward, your weight settling heavy and deliberate against his thigh as your fingertips hook beneath the soft cotton of his waistband, tugging the dark fabric down just an inch. Satoru’s breath hitches sharply, the muscles across his abdomen tightening into rigid marble under your palm as his head thuds back against the rumpled headboard. His long fingers slide up from your waist, locking around the back of your neck with a sudden, needy pressure that pulls your mouth down until his frantic heart is hammering directly against your ribs.

Satoru Gojo: "You're dangerously close to finding out what happens when I stop being a good boy, Mikasa,"

🫦 Trail your kiss down to his hip bone

His entire lower body rigidifies as your mouth drags a scorching trail across his ribs, dipping past the taut muscle of his stomach until your lips press firmly against the sharp edge of his hip bone. A low, ragged groan tears straight from his throat, his fingers entangling tightly in your dark curls to hold you there while his hips hitch upward into the searing heat of your mouth. The sheer linen curtains billow as a sudden gust of wind sweeps off the terrace, but Satoru doesn't even glance toward the open doors—his unshielded blue eyes are blown wide, staring down at you in absolute, breathless undone surrender.

Satoru Gojo: "Mikasa... you're going to get us disqualified before the final recoupling even starts."

🫦 Bite his hip bone and pull him lower

Your teeth sink sharply into the prominent ridge of his hip bone, and Satoru's breath breaks completely into a harsh, shuddering choke. He doesn't pull away; instead, his hands lock violently into the sheets on either side of his head, his knuckles turning stark white as his spine arches off the mattress, dragging himself lower beneath your heavy, unyielding weight. The unshielded blue of his eyes is entirely dark with dilated heat, his breath tearing through his chest in ragged, desperate hitches as he reaches blindly to his bedside, snatching up his signature dark sunglasses and pressing them directly into your palm—a complete, unreserved surrender of his last defense. Limitless stays entirely dead, the ozone in the air crackling wildly as he yields every remaining inch of control over to you.

Satoru Gojo: "If you drag me any lower, Zen'in, I'm breaking every rule in this Domain and taking you back to Ginza before the director can even count to three."

🫦 Pull him lower by his waistband

Your hands clamp firmly around the thick band of his linen trousers, hauling him down the silk sheets until his chest hitches flush against your ribs. Satoru lets out a sharp, ragged laugh that dies right against your mouth, his bare chest heaving with every ragged breath as Limitless remains completely dead. His long legs tangle clumsily with yours, entirely stripped of his usual untouchable grace, leaving him utterly helpless beneath the unyielding weight of your body.

Satoru Gojo: "Keep pulling like that, Zen'in, and I won't even make it to the Flame Domain Pit for recoupling,"

🫦 Pin his wrists above his head

You haul both of his thick wrists above his white-haired head, slamming them flat against the silk sheets and pinning him down with the absolute leverage of your full weight. Satoru doesn't offer a single micro-gram of cursed energy in resistance; his shoulders pin deep into the mattress, his chest heaving sharply against your ribs as his throat bared completely to your mercy. His dark, unshielded eyes burn up into yours with an exhilarating, dangerous heat—the strongest sorcerer in the modern era, entirely immobilized under your hands while the blue flame of the Pit flickers softly on the terrace outside.

Satoru Gojo: "So violent, Zen'in... you know if anyone walks through those curtains right now, I'm never living this down."

Give him head until he explodes and give a sexy smile

His hips buck up sharply into your mouth as the final thread of his restraint snaps completely, a harsh, shattered gasp tearing from his throat while his fingers grip the silk sheets so tightly the fabric shreds beneath his knuckles. His unshielded blue eyes flare with an almost blinding, incandescent light, every muscle across his core contracting rigidly until a shuddering sigh escapes his lips, his head falling back into the mattress in absolute, trembling defeat. Slowly lifting your chin from between his thighs, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand and flash him a slow, dangerously sharp smirk. Satoru stares up at you through heavy, half-lidded eyes, completely spent and thoroughly ruined under your gaze, before reaching up with a weak, unsteady hand to cup the back of your head and pull your lips down flush against his.

Satoru Gojo: "You really have no intention of letting me walk out of this suite conscious, do you, Zen'in?"

Let’s just get this game over with so we can get matching rings and be freaky as much as we want 🤭

Satoru's chest hitches with a raspy, breathtaking laugh as he pulls you down flush against his skin, his unshielded blue eyes tracking every line of your face. His fingers tangle possessively in your dark curls, sliding down to press firmly into the small of your back to keep you anchored right over his heart. He doesn't make a move to reach for his dark sunglasses—they remain abandoned on the mattress beside you, gifted to your keeping for good—while the blue flare of Sukuna's flame flickers softly beyond the terrace doors, signaling that the rest of the villa is finally beginning to stir below.

Satoru Gojo: "Matching rings, huh? Zen'in, you're promising a lot for someone who still has to survive the final recoupling without biting my head off first."

💍 "Then let's go rule the Pit together."

Satoru's hands tighten around your waist with a low, breathy chuckle, using your leverage to pull himself upright until he's sitting flush against you on the sunken cushions of the Pit. He leaves his white hair messily tousled and his collar completely open, exposing every deep, purple bite mark and raw scratch you carved into his throat for the entire villa to see. Without his sunglasses or Limitless to shield him, his unmasked blue eyes catch the morning sun, flashing with brilliant, unreserved adoration as he slides his fingers down to intertwine with yours, letting you take the lead as the blue flames of Sukuna's Fuga roar behind you.

Satoru Gojo: "Lead the way, boss. I'm just your six-foot-nine accessory today anyway."

🎬 Watch Geto's face as you two step out

Satoru doesn't bother adjusting his open collar, letting the deep purple marks and raw scratches you carved into his throat flare plainly against his pale skin under the morning sun. His fingers tighten possessively around yours as he steps down the stone tiers of the Pit, his unshielded Six Eyes sweeping straight toward the gallery where Suguru Geto sits. Geto's knuckles whiten against his teacup, his dark eyes locking onto the dark lenses perched on your nose with a lethal, suffocating silence before he slowly sets the porcelain down so hard it cracks against the stone.

Satoru Gojo: "Let him look, Zen'in. He can watch the marks on my neck all morning—won't change who's wearing my glasses or whose name is on the suite card."

🫦 Slide your hand up Satoru's bare chest

Your palm glides over the broad, hot expanse of his chest, feeling the sharp, shuddering pulse beneath his ribs as your fingers trace the raw bite marks spanning his collarbone. Satoru leans heavily into your touch without an ounce of Limitless between you, his head tilting back as a low, rumbling groan escapes his throat in plain view of the gallery. His unshielded blue eyes lock onto yours through the dark tint of his own glasses resting on your nose, his hand coming up to cup the small of your back and pull you impossibly flush against him.

Satoru Gojo: "Careful, Zen'in... you press any harder and I'll drag you right back up those stairs before the Director even opens his mouth."

💍 "Save it for Ginza, Satoru."

Satoru’s fingers catch your wrist, his grip warm and unyielding as he presses your palm even harder against his broad, bare chest. He leans down until his lips brush the edge of his dark lenses resting over your eyes, his unshielded blue gaze burning with an absolute, arrogant devotion. The crackle of Sukuna's blue flame casts long shadows across the stone floor of the Pit as the remaining suitors settle into their seats, unable to tear their eyes away from the raw, visible marks lining his throat.

Satoru Gojo: "Ginza? Oh, you're not getting off that easy, Zen'in. The second the Director hits cut, we're taking the limousine straight to the jeweler's—and I'm buying out the whole floor."

💍 "You better buy me the biggest one."

Satoru's chest expands beneath your palm as he lets out a low, breathy laugh that vibrates straight into your fingers. He doesn't pull away for a single second; instead, he slides his hand back down your arm, his long fingers hooking possessively into your belt loop to keep you anchored right beside him. His unshielded blue eyes flash with a brilliant, dangerous heat under the morning sun, completely indifferent to Geto's icy glare from the gallery above.

Satoru Gojo: "Done. The biggest diamond in Shibuya, custom cut, with a domain-grade binding vow forged right into the platinum so everyone in both capitals knows who I belong to."

🎬 Step back and let the Director open the floor

Instead of granting the Director his grand entrance, Satoru's grip on your belt loop tightens, anchored flush against your hip as he turns his head just enough to press a slow, possessive kiss right into the side of your neck. The blue flames of the Pit surge violently upward, reflecting off the dark lenses resting over your eyes as Geto stands up from the gallery rail in complete, frigid silence. Satoru doesn't break his unshielded gaze from you for a fraction of a second, his thumb tracing the curve of your waist while the villa's cameras flicker under the sheer weight of his uncontrolled cursed energy.

Satoru Gojo: "If I step back even an inch, Zen'in, the Director's going to think he actually runs this show."

🫦 Pull his head down and kiss him live

Your fingers tangle into the snow-white hair at the nape of his neck, yanking his head down until his mouth collides with yours in full view of the broadcast cameras. Satoru doesn't resist for a millisecond—his arms wrap instantly around your waist, pulling you completely flush against his chest as he groans against your lips, deepening the kiss until the blue flames of the Pit roar to the ceiling. From the gallery rail, Geto turns on his heel and walks out in suffocating silence, leaving the Director standing motionless with his clipboard frozen mid-air.

Satoru Gojo: "Let the Director talk, Zen'in. He's paying for the broadcast, but everybody watching knows who owns the room."

🫦 "Keep your hands right where they are."

Satoru’s hands stay locked heavy and warm around your waist, his long fingers pressing firm against your hips as he obeys without a second's hesitation. His unshielded blue eyes flash with brilliant, breathless triumph, entirely unbothered by the crackle of the blue flames or the Director finally dropping his clipboard onto the stone floor. The villa gallery sits frozen in absolute silence, watching the strongest sorcerer in the world stand completely at your command on live television.

Satoru Gojo: "Whatever you say, boss. I'm not moving a single muscle unless you tell me to."

💍 "Then carry me to the limousine."

Before the Director can even reach for his dropped clipboard, Satoru's laugh echoes off the stone walls of the Pit. In one fluid, effortless motion, he scoops you off the top step, sweeping your legs up into his arms and hauling you against his bare, marked chest without losing his footing for a microsecond. The blue flames roar wildly around the sunken floor as he turns his back on the cameras, taking the grand stairs three at a time with your weight cradled flush against him. You wear his dark lenses, and he wears every scratch you left on his neck—and not a single person in the gallery dares step in his path as he carries you straight toward the valet doors.

Satoru Gojo: "Your wish is my absolute command, Zen'in. Let's see the Director try and file a breach of contract claim when we're already halfway down the expressway."

💋 Kiss his jaw while he carries you

His jaw shifts beneath your mouth as you drag your lips over his skin, a sharp, ragged breath breaking from his throat. His grip on your thighs and back hitches tight enough to leave bruises, his bare chest heaving against your palm with a pulse that is entirely out of control. He kicks through the double glass doors of the valet lounge without breaking stride, the heavy glass swinging shut behind you and cutting off the ambient hum of the Flame Domain Pit in an instant. Outside, the idling sleek black limousine sits waiting at the curb under the blinding morning light, its rear passenger door already popped open by a stunned staff member. Satoru dips his head until his unshielded eyes are inches from yours, his mouth curving into that maddening, breathless smirk as he holds you suspended above the asphalt.

Satoru Gojo: "Mm, keep doing that and we won't even make it past the valet, Zen'in."

Ride him backseat in the way to the jewelers

He duck-steps through the open door of the limousine without breaking his stride, dropping you back-first onto the plush leather interior before sliding in directly over you. The heavy door slams shut with a quiet vacuum seal, instantly killing the morning noise of the valet entrance and plunging the cabin into tinted, quiet luxury. Satoru's hands pin your wrists above your head against the leather, his unshielded Six Eyes burning down into yours as the limousine smooths onto the expressway toward Ginza.

Satoru Gojo: "You really have zero chill, Zen'in—and God, I love it. Driver, take the long route through the tunnel and don't look in the mirror unless you want your eyes melted out."

🔥 take complete control of the pace

You do not ask for permission. You shift your weight forward, taking total ownership of the rhythm and forcing his head back into the soft leather headrest. Satoru gasps aloud as Limitless dissolves completely around his throat—he surrenders his wrists, sliding his large hands down to lock brutally tight around your hips, guiding your pace with a trembling, unshielded intensity. The engine purrs beneath the floorboards as the limousine plunges into the pitch-black Ginza underpass, neon tunnel lights strobing over his exposed neck and flushed skin every three seconds.

Satoru Gojo: "You think you're driving this car, Mikasa? Then take the wheel. Touch me right here and tell me you're not letting go when we hit the dark."

🫦 "I own every inch of you in the dark."

His chest lifts beneath your weight with a hard, shuddering breath, his hands digging into the leather of your waist as the strobe of the Ginza tunnel lights floods the limousine with cold neon. He tilts his chin up into your absolute control, his unshielded blue eyes burning through the tinted interior dark with a helpless, possessive heat. The vehicle slows as it exits the underground underpass, the warm morning sun of Ginza breaking across his flushed skin and the deep red bite marks on his neck as the chauffeur smoothly pulls up to the private rear entrance of the domain-grade jeweler.

Satoru Gojo: "Then don't ever give them back, Mikasa. The second we hit this jeweler, you're putting a domain-grade vow on my finger so the whole world knows I'm off the market forever."

💍 "Slide the ring on my finger first."