Backshots in the Backrooms
it is finally here. thank you for your patience i know it was harrowing. in honor of the new backrooms movie thats coming out. comments, questions, and constructive criticism welcome.
cw: smut, AFAB!reader, sorcerer!reader, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, BACKSHOTS, Satoru Gojo is his own warning, crack-ish.
It was difficult to say how you arrived there: almost like slipping into a domain expansion loop, one moment you are arguing with Satoru Gojo about the dumbest fucking thing, the next, your surrounded by a maze of beige walls. Or maybe they were yellow? Did they actually have wallpaper? It was like your mind couldn't comprehend what it was seeing at any given moment, providing what was most likely in compensation.
The ceiling was buzzing with bright, blaring fluorescent lights. You squint up at the lights before getting spots in your vision and quickly looking away. When you had been sent on this mission, you had not expected to walk into a domain so easily.
Beside you, Satoru whistles, “Now that is a maze,”
You glare at him, “Is now the time for praise?”
“I call ‘em, like I see ‘em,” his 6ft body shrugs lazily. How he seems to always be carefree was beyond you. You step forward, making your way down the hallway before you, though it's difficult to tell whether Satoru and you are going in a circle or not.
“Please,” you groan, looking back at him over your shoulder, “you're just saying it to annoy me,” you mumble.
“I WOULD NEVER!” he catastrophizes.
You roll your eyes and give a sardonic scoff but the hint of a smile graces your lips. Your gorgeous, glossy lips that Gojo Satoru has to remind himself not to stare at.
However, hours later your banter dies out.
It is difficult to tell time here, your phones dont work and Satoru is whistling the most obnoxious, repetitive song, hands in pockets behind you. He is following your lead, but you get the sense that he's really just staring at your ass. You could tell him to knock it off but it seemed to entertain him enough to only be slightly annoying.
If you had to guess, you were now at hour 4 judging by the ache in your feet.
“Let’s sit,” you announce, ignoring the feeling of being watched. If it was the curse, it would appear soon enough.
“Yes, ma’am,” he chimes, the whole time being unusually pliant towards you.
He sits, shoulder pressed to yours. And you close your eyes, head leaning back against the wall. Fuck, you just wanted to go home.
“When do you think it will show itself, it feels like this has gone on way too long.” You mumble.
You can feel him shrug, you realize he must have turned infinity off, "Don't know but it must be feeding off something.”
“Something, like what?” you murmur, trying to discern from his tone whether he would be serious or not.
“Like our sizzling chemistry,” he nudges, a playful lilt in his voice. You can hear his smirk.
You groan dramatically but he sees your smile, “Keep dreaming.”
“Oh, I will,” he hums, his own smile blinding you more than the lights.
You had met Gojo in your first year of Jujutsu High Tokyo 11 years ago. A bond quickly forming between you and all the other first years. You had been there when Suguru defected, when Haibara had passed, and Utahime left for Kyoto. Through it all Satoru had been an unstable stable constant. He was there for you through thick and thin as you were him.
And though he was often times high spirited and annoying, you had developed the most dizzying threat to your well being crush on him. In fact it had almost been love at first sight, only slowing when he opened his mouth.
He could be obnoxious, sometimes he took his jokes too far but what made you fall for him was the way he actually apologized. He was a self-centered, sheltered brat but his heart was in the right place. With each heartbreak and near death experience he grew as a person—which was why this damn crush seemed to persist into adulthood.
However, for all his sincerity, you knew that he was a flirt. He was a very friendly flirt. He didn't date. He didn't have time for dating. It was enough to be his best friend… most of the time.
“But seriously, why hasn't it shown itself yet?” you muse, picking your head up and looking into the dark recesses of the maze. Had shadows always been that dark?
“They are created from negative emotions, got anything to get off your chest, pretty?” He teases, and though he has his blindfold on, it is clear he is looking straight at you.
You look back at him and bring a finger to your lips, mocking a thinking stance. He is so grateful you cant see the way he tracks the movement with laser-point precision. Was it overkill to use six-eyes?
“I don't think so…,” you drag, “my students have been good, there are no dishes in my sink, I'm caught up on laundry,” you tease trying to hide a grin. When he doesn't respond immediately, You bump into his shoulder, a smirk gracing your features.
He cracks a smile but it's quickly pulled back, “Not even something you're hiding?”
“Nope, nothing to hide,” you say throwing your palms up in surrender. The tone had really shifted from something light hearted to something… accusatory?
“Really?” He presses, leaning in. God how could someone wearing a blindfold have such a piercing stare.
“What are you getting at Satoru?” You scoff.
“What about your date with Nanami?” He fires back.
“I haven't gone on a date with Kento!” You defend.
“You call him Kento!” He announces throwing a finger at you accusingly, as if he caught you red-handed.
“I call you Satoru!” You cry in disbelief. You two were way too old to be doing this.
“That’s different,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. Looking like a petulent child.
“How?” You ask with a frown.
“Because I’m the only one you can call by first name,” he squawks, defensively and bit too loudly.
You both go silent, red dusting both your cheeks. Only the buzzing of the lights above can be heard. For a second, you are drawn back to your predicament. Trapped in a gross maze of outdated corporate hell backrooms.
Your mission partner's stare draws you back to him, his snowy hair looking slightly deflated from the strangely humid air.
“I’ve always called my friends by their first names,” you protest quietly, looking down at your feet. Next to your feet were Satoru’s shins, his legs being longer than yours and slightly spread. They look surprisingly relaxed for the tense air around you. He stays quiet. You wait for him to answer but it is taking forever.
“How do you know it wasn't a date?” he asks, barely any confidence behind the question. As if he knew the answer already.
“What?” you ask, surely misunderstanding him. This almost sounded like…jealousy.
“With Nanami?” He reiterates with a bit more force.
“Satoru, we just ate dinner together. We talked about my students, and my finances and…” you try to soothe, resting a hand on his. At least he doesn't pull away. There is a pause you struggle to get the next word out. You.
“And…” Satoru trails. He grips your hand gently, coaxing you.
No. You cant. Your cheeks turn ruddy when you think about telling Satoru about how you cried on Kento’s goddamn shoulder about your crush on Satoru.
“We-we were just catching up. How did you hear about it anyway?” You skitter around the subject. Stumble more like.
“Ierie, told me,” he mumbles, leaving out the part where he pestered her for an hour to obtain said information.
“Satoru, even if it was a date, there won't be a second. I don't like Kento like that.” You add more forcefully to get it through his thick skull, “I am not interested in him like that.”
Even then that would imply Kento was interested in you, which he wasn't.
Oh, for a second you think— NAY —pray that you rendered the strongest speechless. You didn't.
“Who are you interested in?”
Was this the moment? To confess? In a dingy yellow hallway with smelly, and now that you were thinking about it, moist carpet? With loud, annoying lights and no way out?
No, that sounded like a terrible idea! Maybe after you got out, but no way when you were trapped together. You stay quiet, taking a deep breath, let’s just focus on getting out of—
“It’s me,” Satoru announces suddenly when you don't answer, “It's feeding off me.”
“What?” Your head snaps to look at him immediately. His ears a surprising shade of red.
“Off my jealousy, and my anxiety, and my resentment at Nanami for getting the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
“What?” you repeat, unable to comprehend what Satoru is word-vomiting all of the sudden. He won’t look at you. He can't look at you or he’ll combust.
“You are the only thing I’ve ever wanted and could never have,” he stutters, “An-and I saw you that night with Nanami and you looked so so pretty.” Satoru sounds so wrecked as he admits this, pulling his blindfold off and looking into your eyes.
You can’t hide the gasp that escapes your lips and he can't hide the way his eyes track it.
“You look so pretty all the time and you're so sweet to everyone, but why can't it just be for me? Why can't I hold your attention?” He whines, his head dramatically falling back against the wall. He bared his soul to you and probably fucked everything up but it seemed like he couldnt stop himself. Not now anyway.
“You love me?” Your response feels like a punch to the gut, how could you not believe him after all this time? After all these years, he has hung onto your every word, every action, ready to do anything you ask of him at the drop of a hat, he was wrapped around your pinky finger when all he wanted was his ring wrapped around your left ring finger, and you doubted him?
“Yes!” he cries, looking like he might go insane.
“Satoru, why have you never said anything before?” You whisper, sitting up straight.
“I didn't want to ruin our friendship.”
You chuckle, self-deprecation heavy.
He looks at you, clearly taking your laugh the wrong way but before he can run off into the maze and hide forever you speak.
“I guess we both were scared of the same thing,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes, a slight blush on your cheeks.
“What?” He squeaks. His hands pull back, clenching.
“I just never confessed to you,” you respond, reaching for his hand again.
“Don’t joke with me,” he says sternly, “Do you mean it?” He's on his hands and knees trying to get a good look at your face and see any trace of a joke on your lips. Fuck. Your lips.
“I’m serious, I've loved you for years,” you say shyly, glancing away from him.
He panics, the feel of not having your gaze on him worse than any battle he's encountered.
And that's all it took for Satoru’s lips to be on yours. It's a mess of spit and tongue and teeth as he tries to make up for lost time. But it's not enough. You're too far away.
He pulled you into his lap without warning. Taking the chance to press his tongue deeper into your mouth when you yelp.
“Baby, baby, baby, fuck,” he whines, pulling away just enough to see the line of spit connecting you both before he’s pouncing on you again.
“You'll be the death of me,” he whispers against your lips like it’s a prayer, all while his hands roam your body: the plush of your hips.
He doesn't waste time immediately grabbing two fistfuls and moaning as you rock into him.
His already hardening cock under you, you take the chance to pull away, hopefully straddle his lap, but at the slightest chance of pulling away and he’s whining like a puppy.
He grabs your hand to pull you back but not be too forceful. His eyes scared that you'll end this, his lips kissing your inner wrist in a desperate plea.
You can only giggle, landing back in his lap with an, “oof,” before he’s kissing you again.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he pleads trying to look stern but he's a flushed mess of kiss bitten lips and half-lidded sapphire eyes.
“‘Toru, I was just getting comfortable,” you chide, grinding down on him to emphasize your point. He lets out a moan, head getting thrown back. Your clothed center nearly killing him as you do it again, and with that little nickname you made for him when you were both 15— he's nearly blacking out.
“Please, let me fuck you,” he begs.
“Here?” You look around. You're a bit surprised you were able to get as swept up as you did considering the circumstances. You were still in the curse’s domain. Though with Satoru around it wasn't nearly as much of a danger. Yaga would kill you both if he knew though.
Honestly? You wanted to. He felt so good, and you waited so long.
But maybe you would tease him just a little.
“Maybe I should just give you head…,” you drawl, looking around. Movement catches your eye. Something tall. Something dark.
“Please, baby,” he whimpers. That was not very “The Strongest” of him. But it did wonders for your self-esteem.
“This is a terrible place to have our first time,” you snicker, unable to keep a straight face.
“Its memorable! You’ll never forget it!—No!—I'll make you feel so good you forget where we are!” He adds as a cherry on top.
“Think about it, backshots in the backrooms,”
“Satoru!” You scold as you fall into a fit of giggles. You both laugh, a comfortable peace coming over you.
“Fine, but take off your jacket, I'm not laying down on this disgusting carpet,” You can feel the curse nearby, if you were ever one to ignore red flags it was now.
The change of scenery does nothing to dim the spark between you two, his knee immediately finding solace against your cunt as he continues to devour you. His hands are moving to grope your breast over your uniform.
You chuckle, quickly shedding the teacher uniform top and in Satoru’s impatience, he's pulling out your shirt from where it was tucked in.
Did you feel a little exposed, flat on your back, Satoru hovering over you? Yes.
But was it worth it to bite his lip and tug, hearing him growl in response and kiss you harder? Yes.
It took no time at all to rip open your blouse and reveal the black bra underneath. It was nothing special but the look in Satoru’s eyes made you feel like you were the most beautifully wrapped present sent from God himself.
If Satoru could hear your thoughts now he wouldn't disagree, he felt like everything in his life had led up to this moment and he wasn’t being dramatic.
Your hips immediately moving against his knee, the pressure causing you to whine a little. He doesn't stop to breathe before he's kissing down your chest, lips sucking bruises into your skin.
His fingers find your skirt button to loosen the waist before pulling it down your waist. He freezes at the lacy black underwear, at least it kinda matched your bra.
“Oh, these little panties,” he groans.
He presses kisses to your inner thighs until—
He takes a bite of your inner thigh, hard.
“Satoru!” You squeal trying to squirm away, but he doesn't let you, holding your hips down. Then he giggles.
And he presses his nose into your clit, taking an obscene breath in. He nudges it, sending a jolt through your body. Then he carefully slides your panties off, carefully, gingerly. And pockets them.
Then he's diving into your cunt like a man starved. Like it will be his last meal. Easily he sucks on your clit, a steady pattern that has you humping his face. He breaks the seal to grin and you can tell he is eating that shit up.
“M’ gonna cum,” you cry, reaching down to grab his silky white hair and tug. This only makes him moan, the vibrations making you ride his face harder.
It takes nothing after that to go over the edge, you moan borderline-pornagraphically.
The lights flicker around you, but you don't really pay attention, too dazed. Before you, Satoru stands up on his knees and unzips his pants. The whole time, he's watching you pant below him like a predator.
It doesn't take long for him to pull his cock free, slapping against his stomach. A pretty pink fading into red with how hard he is.
His fist pumps it a few times, you swear he's using six eyes to look at you. And suddenly he's over you again.
Through smothering kisses: you spotted it emerge. It was tall, its nauseating aura pressing against your lungs. If you hadn't been recovering from an earthshattering orgasm you might've been prepared to fight. That was a big IF though. And the man lining his cock up with your slit seemed to be in a world of his own.
Or he just didn’t care, his face still covered in your slick from eating you out. His lips were glossier than usual.
He tapped the head of his cock against your clit once to watch your body jolt in after shocks, then two more times to watch your brows pull into cute little angry arches.
“Stop that,” you hiss, over-stimulated and sweaty, eyes trained on the tangled mess of curse peaking out from behind a corner.
‘Toru’s eyes followed yours, grimacing at the sight of the curse, but instead of acting (killing it, anything) he just scoffed, eyes rolling.
You could have sworn you heard him mutter, “kinda busy,” under his breath.
“Shouldnt we— AH!” Is all you get out before he’s pressing into your depth with a groan. You blank on what you were even supposed to be doing, so full of Satoru. Your ‘Toru.
Above you, the fluorescent light flickers, actually the lights all around you flicker, seemingly trying to remind you of something. Even that thought fades away however, as you feel Satoru pull out and then snap his sips back in one swift movement.
“Oh, Jesus,” you choke, fists tightening around his coat.
“Naw, honey—Satoru, your ‘Toru,” he corrects, continuing his pace, slamming into the saccharine, gummy walls of your pussy.
“Fuck, fuck,” you cry, little tears prickling your eyes.
“Say it,” he demands while continuing his punishing pace. His blue eyes fixed on the way your lips struggled to form around any words.
“Sa-to-ru,” he says slowly, as if talking to a child.
“S’toru,” you slur hoping he would take that as an answer.
“U-huh, almost there,” he coos, his hand moving towards where you both were joined.
“‘Toru!” You squeal, a few tears slipping out when he presses against your clit.
“Yeah, baby?” He asks as though nothing is wrong.
“SATORU,” you scream but not in the way hed hoped. His brow furrows, looking confused. From behind him, you see it, the big hulking creature rushing you both. In a second you open your mouth to scream.
You tense up, trying to move, trying to grab satoru or warn him; something! But nothing, Satoru grimaces.
The lights flicker, a deep groan escapes his lips.
“Fuck, pretty, you trying to cut my dick off?” He asks through labored pants. Hes trying desperately not to blow his load.
Your eyes look between the monster struggling to get you and the man deep inside you.
“The curse! Satoru, the curse!”
“Can’t get us through infinity, I promise,” he says reassuringly though he slows his thrusts to short shallow ones.
You try to pull back but he grabs your hips.
“Where are you goin?” He rasps, even short thrusts testing him.
“We need to exercise this thing and—,”
He laughs massaging your hips, “I've got it taken care of, but if you don’t like lookin…,”
Your world flips upside down, spinning until you're on your hands and knees.
“See? Can’t see ‘em anymore!” He chirps cheerfully.
“That is not what I meant!”
“Relax,” is all he says. Then he's pressing back in, distracting you from your current predicament.
Soon enough he’s slamming back in and your mind is going hazy with pleasure as he draws little hearts on your clit with his thumb.
“M’ close!” you whine and you can’t see it but what's scarier than the monster trying to kill you is the grin on Satoru's face as his other hand finds the small of your back and presses.
Your arms give way and you find yourself, cheek pressed to Satoru’s jacket, arms jelly as he puts your back in a mean arch. His jacket smells like him, some stupidly expensive cologne you mentioned liking at 17 in a mall. You can feel his cock digging right into your g-spot, tummy full.
It doesn't take many more thrusts before you're coming around him, walls spasming.
Behind you his eyes nearly roll back into his head, your fluttering cunt has him seeing stars or maybe that's the lights blowing out.
A curse might be screaming in the background but he's just barely pulling out in time to cum on your back. Thick ropes spilling across the expanse of your skin.
He groans only vaguely opening his eyes and seeing how dark it is, the domain dissipating.
You fall to your side, panting. Satoru looks at your trembling form. “Didja forget where we were?”
all original work belongs to ME @cisse-writes | do not copy, repost, or feed my work into AI.
