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“Uta, where are you running off to? Are you even paying attention to where you’re going?”
Gritting her teeth, Utahime did not dain her stalker with a response. He didn’t deserve one, especially if he was going to annoy her the entire time. She had been the one assigned to this mission, not him, so she didn’t know why he had insisted on accompanying her. After all, it wasn’t like it was a serious one. There was the minor chance of a third or second grade curse haunting the area, but even she could easily take one of those down.
Besides, this wasn’t an exorcism mission. It was a retrieval mission, which definitely didn’t require two sorcerers. The fact that he had come not only annoyed her but insulted her as well. Did he seriously believe she wasn’t capable of handling something as simple as this?
Why did Gojo have to make it his mission to drive her up a wall?
“Ugh, all this walking is so boring,” Gojo groaned.
“Then leave!” Utahime snapped. “No one asked you to join this mission. What are you doing here anyway?”
Gojo grinned. “I can’t leave you alone on a mission. Someone has to protect you.”
Utahime bit her tongue, looking away from him. The idea that she needed any sort of protection made her insides twist uncomfortably. She hadn’t gone on a lot of missions on her own, her cursed technique meant more for support than attack, but she still didn’t like the idea that she couldn’t be by herself at all or that she needed someone to look after her. She was a semi-grade one sorcerer in her own right. She could take care of herself.
The scar on her face said otherwise.
“Honestly, if you’re just going to wander around, it’ll take us all night to find it.”
“I’m not wandering around,” Utahime seethed. “I’m getting a feel for the cursed energy surrounding the object in order to pinpoint its location.”
“Oh.” He paused, pulling a lollipop out of his mouth and using it to point down a hallway she’d just passed. “It’s down there.”
Pressing her lips together to stop herself from blowing up, Utahime turned to look in the direction he was pointing. She didn’t need to send a wave of cursed energy to figure out if he was right or not. She knew he was. His Six Eyes gave him an uncanny sense to see everything, especially cursed energy, even with white bandages wrapped around his face. He’d probably known where the cursed object was the second they stepped into this old, abandoned mansion and had let her walk around like an idiot for the past fifteen minutes.
She didn’t bother asking him why he hadn’t told her earlier. He’d enjoyed watching her flounder. Asshole.
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Gojo asked, grinning around the lollipop stick.
No, she was not. Instead, she doubled back, brushing past him and stomping down the hallway. Sure enough, within five minutes, she found what she was looking for, cursed energy pouring from the object in waves behind a locked door. After trying to break it down using brute force to no avail and then attempting to pick the lock with also no success, Gojo chuckled and took pity on it, breaking down the door with little more than a flick of his fingers. She could’ve screamed. That would have surely broken down the door, along with the fragile object inside.
The room was almost entirely empty, save for a tall object covered in a white sheet. She stepped forward, peering inside but finding nothing of interest, and stopped to inspect the source of the course energy.
“See, you did need someone else to accompany you,” Gojo stated. “How the hell did they expect you to carry this out on your own? It’s taller than you.”
“The reports were incorrect,” Utahime explained. “We were lead to believe that the object was hand-held.”
“Yeah, no.” Gojo stepped forward, peering closely at the covered object and running his fingers over it, his Infinity barring the sheet from touching him. Then, without any warning, he grabbed a handful of the sheet and yanked it off to expose the cursed object.
“Gojo!”
“What? It’s just a mirror.”
Utahime froze as the sheet fell to the floor to reveal the perfectly pristine plane of a mirror, her horrified reflection staring back at her. It was a mirror – but it wasn’t just a mirror. It had been cursed, having driven its victims utterly mad. The reports were murky at best. Whatever those people had seen in the mirror had caused them to act out in ways that no one could explain. Some hurt people, some hurt themselves, some went catatonic, and some simply vanished. The few that appeared relatively unaffected refused to talk, sometimes out of a deep shame and others just pure embarrassment.
Gojo tilted his head curiously. “What’s it do?”
“Can’t you tell with your Six Eyes?” Utahime asked, a bit snidely.
He smiled. “Perhaps, but I usually like to see these things for myself.”
That was the consequence of being untouched. He was too reckless, too curious, and anyone caught in his vicinity became collateral damage. He didn’t think of the consequences, not when he knew he wouldn’t be affected. On the other hand, Utahime was acutely aware of them, even more so now after the incident that left her scarred. Gojo hadn’t been there to protect her then, something he’d brought up more than once.
You wouldn’t have been hurt if I was there.
Well, he hadn’t been, and her unhappy reflection in the mirror was proof of that.
The curious expression on Gojo’s face suddenly shifted into one of surprise, and his entire body stiffened as if he’d been electrocuted. “Oh.”
“What?” Utahime looked from him to the mirror, clearly missing something. “What do you see?”
Even with the bandages covering his eyes, she could sense him peering at her out of the corners of his eyes, his head shifting slightly in her direction. “What do you see?”
Frowning, Utahime turned back to look into the mirror. She just saw herself – small, plain miko outfit, her brow furrowed in irritation, her bangs hanging in her eyes, long hair framing her face unbound by ribbons or anything. After the incident, she stopped wearing her hair in those pigtails, the feeling of that curse yanking on them too fresh in her mind, and keeping it down hid her face a little more. She also saw Gojo standing beside her, looking as he did now.
And then, before she could question him further, the image in the mirror shifted. There was a small ripple, like a rock being dropped on a flat surface of water, and when it cleared, she gasped in surprise at the change. The scar on her face was gone, beautiful and smooth skin replacing it, just as she’d been before. When she touched her own face, she could feel the roughness of the scar across her cheek and the bridge of her nose, but her reflection’s fingers brushed against nothing.
“What do you see?” Gojo asked again, his voice strangely hoarse.
“My scar,” Utahime mumbled. “It’s gone.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s–” Utahime cut herself off when her reflection moved. Despite the fact that she was standing perfectly still, the Utahime in the mirror turned towards Gojo’s reflection. He turned to her too, reaching out to touch her, cupping her face in his large hands. She sucked in a breath, watching as Gojo kissed her – or rather, his reflection kissed hers. Even though she couldn’t feel his lips against hers, a pleasurable tingle coursed through her body. One of his hands slid from her face, down her neck, over her shoulders, ghosting over her side to rest on her hip and tug her snugly against his front.
He kissed her gently, reverently, like she was the most precious object in the world to behold.
“Utahime…”
For a moment, she couldn’t tell if the Gojo beside her had spoken aloud, or if she was imagining his reflection saying her name like a prayer against her lips. Her reflection dragged her hands up his chest, one hand resting over his heart while the other found itself perched on his shoulder, and lifted herself on her tiptoes to deepen kiss. She could see herself opening her mouth to him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. A bolt of arousal shot through her, especially when he slid his hand from her hip to her ass, pushing her forward so he could grind himself against her more intensely.
Utahime squirmed, a phantom pressure throbbing between her legs. “Oh, I…”
“Tell me what you see.”
She couldn’t look away from the mirror, not as it depicted Gojo all but ripping her clothes off her body. If she looked away, she would be forced to face the real thing, and she didn’t think she could actually look Gojo in the eyes right now. The humiliation would be too great. Even if she kept her mouth shut, he would know. He couldn’t possibly read her mind, but somehow, she was certain he’d know what she saw in the mirror and she couldn’t admit it no matter what.
Utahime could not, under any circumstances, admit that she was seeing the very thing she wanted desperately.
The fact that she wanted Gojo was deeply embarrassing, but witnessing it play out in the mirror was shameful. Was that the cursed object’s ability? To show people their deepest, darkest desires? Utahime had to bite back a groan as she watched Gojo manhandle her like she was nothing more than a doll. Even as he roughly yanked her clothes off, leaving her naked and shivering, he still treated her with reverance, his large hands gliding over her skin, worshipping every part of her imperfect body. To him, it was perfect.
As the Gojo in the mirror kneeled down to hook one of her legs over his shoulders and buried his face between her thighs so he could aggressively lick her cunt and suck at her clit, a realization hit Utahime as hard and fast as the orgasm her reflection was currently chasing.
The mirror showing what she truly desired: for Gojo to want her as much as she wanted him.
She almost burst into tears, shame and arousal mixing horribly inside her. She’d never been so humiliated in her life, even worse than when she’d woken up in the hospital after the incident and realized how badly she’d fucked up on the mission.
Her reflection felt no such qualms, completely unabashed as she came on Gojo’s mouth, shaking and rolling her hips against his face. The only way she could’ve possibly stayed standing was due to Gojo’s grip on her, one hand holding her leg while the other tightly gripped her ass, his fingers pressed into the skin. Utahime felt a gush of slickness in her own underwear, and she breathed out through her mouth, more aware of her body than ever. She couldn’t feel his tongue on her cunt, but she could remember the sensation of an orgasm.
Fingers buried in her cunt, a vibrator pressed up against her clit, the side of her face pressed into a pillow so she could bite down and stop herself from moaning Gojo’s name out loud. She’d imagined him doing just this, twisting her this way and that for his own pleasure, bending her over a table and fucking her after a meeting where she’d yelled at him, whispering in her ear that he was going to put her in her place, a laugh deep from within his chest when she cried. Her greatest shame and pleasure.
He was going to do that now, she realized dimly. Her reflection was obedient, undoing his pants and pulling out his cock for him. It was long and thick, larger than the vibrator she used at home, perfectly angled to carve himself into her pussy. Her hands were too small to cover him entirely, and so she knew her mouth would fail to take him all the way no matter how much she relaxed her throat. She’d try, of course. Her mouth watered at the thought, even if her reflection didn’t get the chance, not when Gojo spun her around so he could rub his cock over her bare ass and smear his precum on her skin.
“Gojo,” Utahime choked out. “Cover the mirror.”
She couldn’t see this – couldn’t witness this, not when she knew she’d never be able to feel it herself. A low moan slipped out of her, both pained and aroused, as Gojo’s reflection bent her over in half, gripping her by the wrists behind her back with one hand, and spread her legs open with one of his feet. He guided the tip of his cock between her legs, sliding it back and forth over her folds, using her dripping arousal to slick himself.
It was too much and not enough at the same time. She couldn’t watch this, but she couldn’t look away either.
“Cover the mirror.”
“No.”
Utahime clenched her hands into fasts, her blunt nails digging into her palms. “Gojo, please–”
“No,” Gojo repeated harshly. “I want to see.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “See what?”
“I want to see what you want me to do to you.”
His voice was still rough, as if every word had to be forcibly dragged from him. She imagined that was what he would sound like as he fucked her, and a shudder ran through her. The realization that Gojo was likely seeing the same thing as her lit her on fire from the inside out.
Was he watching as his reflection slowly slid his cock into her wet and wanting cunt? Did he see the flashes of pleasure and pain crossing her reflection’s face? The way he had to close his eyes and tilt his head back as he lost himself in the throes of his own arousal? Was he witnessing as he began to fuck her roughly, thrusting in and out of her so strongly that her entire body jolted each time, her naked tits swaying back and forth and her legs shaking with the effort to stand.
She wanted it. She wanted him to take her for his own, to mark her so thoroughly that everyone would know she belonged to him. Even without being able to hear anything, she could imagine what he was saying, her eyes drawn to his lips. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d have to talk as he fucked her, taking over all her senses so that she could only think of him. Filthy praises mixed with humiliating insults and dirty promises. He’d sully not only her body but also her mind.
Because he wanted her more than anyone else – more than the women his clan paraded in front of him to get him to take on a wife, more than the beautiful women and strong sorcerers that showed themselves off to him, more than every woman that was better than her in every way. She wanted him to want her despite the fact that he couldn’t have her, the higher-ups specifically forbidding him from taking her as his wife. She wanted him to do it anyway, to spill his seed inside her and pray it would take, to save her from Jujutsu society’s expectations and love her and want her as a woman alone.
“You want this?” Gojo asked, his voice breathless and full of wonder.
“Gojo,” she pleaded. “Cover it.”
Her knees almost buckled when her reflection came, a ghost-like feeling sweeping over her, as if she could feel the residuals of the powerful orgasm in the mirror. Gojo finally did as she begged, picking up the sheet and throwing it over the mirror, blocking the vision from sight and muting the cursed object’s cursed energy. She stumbled away, the connection between her and the cursed energy cut off. No longer entranced, she could think a little more clearly, realizing its technique had begun to sink its claws into her mind. How long would it have taken to drive her mad like the others or would she have simply suffered her humiliation and shame in silence?
“Utahime.” Gojo’s hands on her arms snapped her back into focus. He wasn’t exactly touching her, not like in the mirror, Infinity still blocking him from her. She breathed heavily, staring up at him, her face flushed and her heart racing frantically.
He hadn’t been affected by the curse. He’d only been a witness to her struggle.
“I–” Utahime couldn’t think of what to say. How could she possibly explain what they’d seen in the mirror? Could she wrack it up as some sort of convoluted vision the cursed object had come up with? She couldn’t admit that it had pulled the dream out from within the dark recesses of her mind. “I don’t–”
“Do you want that?” Gojo asked again.
Utahime shook her head desperately. No, she didn’t want that. He couldn’t know the truth. He’d never let her live it down. Even worse than the scar on her face, even worse than her obvious weakness, he would mock her desire for him for the rest of her life. Simple, weak, little Iori Utahime wants the Gojo Satoru. And how could she not? He was utterly perfect.
A single finger under her chin stilled her, forcing her to look at him again and watch as he unraveled the bandages. When they fell away to reveal the crystalline beauty of his eyes, she sucked in a breath. “Tell me you want it, Utahime.” His voice was rough again, filled with raw arousal, his pupils blown out with desire, so much so that it took her breath away. “Tell me you want me.”
“I… I want you.” Utahime’s voice was shaky, so small and meek in comparison to his, but the fact that she’d managed to speak at all was an accomplishment in itself.
She was positive he would tease her or, even worse, laugh at her, and yet Gojo smiled. “Good – because as soon as we drop this stupid thing off, I plan on doing everything we saw and more.”