𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕓𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟

Gojo Satoru loves you most when you’re like this.

Weak.

Helpless.

Completely at his mercy.

The glass is still in your hand, fingers trembling around the rim, but your grip is weak now, barely able to hold it upright. He watches as your lips part, a sluggish little sigh escaping you as your eyelids flutter, trying—failing—to focus on him.

“There you go,” he murmurs, brushing a knuckle against your cheek. “Good girl. Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You don’t answer. You can’t.

You’re too far gone, sinking into the couch, heat pooling between your thighs, body betraying you with every slow pulse of arousal that builds, fogging your mind.

He’s done his job well.

The alcohol was just the beginning—a little something to loosen you up, to make you pliable, easy to maneuver. But the real fun started with the aphrodisiac, mixed seamlessly into your drink, slipping past your lips before you even knew what was happening.

And now?

Now, you’re just a body waiting to be ruined.

He picks up his phone, tilting the camera down, capturing you exactly as you are—half-lidded, mouth slack, skin flushed. You look so pretty like this, he thinks, completely fucked out before he’s even touched you.

But pictures like these aren’t enough.

He needs more.

The next shot is your chest, the way your nipples harden against the thin fabric of your shirt. Then your thighs, squeezing together, trying—and failing—to suppress the ache.

Then lower.

He pushes your legs apart, and you whimper at the touch. A sweet, pathetic sound.

“Shh,” he soothes, snapping another picture, capturing the way your underwear sticks to your soaked cunt, fabric darkened with your arousal. “Gotta document everything, baby. You understand, don’t you?”

Another picture. Then another.

Your drenched pussy. Your trembling thighs.

He peels your panties away slowly, savoring the sight, the way slick clings to the ruined fabric. His cock aches, stiff and throbbing, but he’s patient. He always is.

Because he wants to take his time.

Wants to memorize every inch of you.

Wants to see the moment your body gives up entirely.

He rubs the head of his cock against your folds, teasing, spreading you open. You moan, weak and desperate, hips shifting instinctively.

And he catches it on camera.

The moment before he shoves himself inside, before he splits you open, before you take him to the base like you were made for it.

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his phone against your stomach, angling it just right so he can see the way your pussy stretches around him, how perfect you look stuffed full of his cock.

The recording light blinks.

He grins.

“Hope you don’t mind, sweetheart,” he murmurs, rolling his hips, shoving deeper. “Gotta make sure I have something to remember this by.”

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Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @imnotabot28 , @han11dh , @call-memissbrightside , @loserworld