#♡ྀི — satoru

[satonomi]

after the bruise to his ego from turning into a cat, satoru makes you dress up like one. he has you in stockings that have paw prints on the bottom, a choker with a bell, cat ears, a fluffy tail plug, all while you’re sat on your knees as he slaps your face with his cock. your eyes water from the sting and the humiliation when he looks down at you and coos, “does the little kitty want some milk?” he’ll make you drink every last drop of his cum cause that’s what a good pet does before he’s rutting into you from behind. you’re not allowed to speak unless it’s in meows cause cats can’t talk. the force of his thrusts knock the air out of you, combined with the ringing of the bell that chimes every time, adding on to your embarrassment. and all you can do is whine at the gentle pets to your hair. a stark contrast to the mean and degrading pounding of his hips into your sloppy cunt 🫶

[solarenchanting]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄 ── .✦ gojō satoru x fem!reader

itʼs almost as if you and him broke up—but almost doesn't count, you were still broken up.

note: part three + usage of “[name]” + 24-hour time + semi-thoroughly proofread :')

part one: birthday part two: birthday wish

you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the wooden floor occasionally creaking as the handles of the plastic bag filled with snacks clutched in your right hand rustled.

you bit your lower lip, glancing to one the end of the hallway, seeing the moonlight filtered from the window, then staring at the other end. you could just drop the bag, rush out the building of tokyo metropolitan curse technical college, head to your car, and drive home. no one was stopping you.

you sighed, nervous and frustrated, leaning against the opposite wall with your legs stretched and bent out, deflated. the plastic bag swayed slowly, your head lowered and eyes glued to the floor in contemplation.

at this point, what was more difficult?

was it calling him on his old phone number—which surprisingly still worked—or was it standing outside the very office door that you used to visit knowing that he was on the other side, aware of your presence because of his fucking six eyes?

definitely the latter.

that was probably because you still had the copy of the key to his office attached to your car keys—the same car keys that still held a copy of the key to his room. not to forget to mention, for some reason, you still kept the copy of the key to the old house he used to rent.

or maybe it was because you realised that you were going to see him in person—and not just hear his voice, which sounded hoarse. had he been crying? you hoped not.

it was supposed to be a simple call: a quick, “happy birthday,” followed by a casual “how have you been lately? are you okay?” before ending the conversation, just as you’d planned.

then again, when did life ever go as planned?

rationality scoffed at you, mocking the excuse you had come up with. the voice in the back of your mind began ranting that you had the power to decline his request. you could have—should have—stood your ground and stayed behind the line you’d drawn.

look at yourself, [name], unable to knock on a door because you can’t face your ex-boyfriend that you left. that you made the effort to dress up decently and drive all the way to see him at 2 am. now you’re trying to justify something you could’ve avoided?

i know, but—

but what?

my heart…

your heart, which still held a special place for satoru, had always known—even back when you were both young and unsure—that there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

you smiled sadly. that’s right. there was nothing you wouldn’t do for him, especially after everything he had been through.

he deserved happiness. and if that meant doing this—coming over to celebrate his birthday, pretending for one last time that you never broke up—then so be it.

“you comin’ in?”

you jumped back, your head snapping toward the sound of his voice interrupting your thoughts. A sharp gasp escaped you, the sound echoing through the hallway.

you were stunned by the sight before you, trying to take a step back—an idiotic move, since you’re leaning against a wall—and stumbled. your breath was caught in your throat.

satoru was leaning against the doorframe, the door slightly ajar, hands lazily in the pocket of his slacks. his ankles were crossed, the tip of his left shoe pointing toward the ground.

he wore that same old smug look—head tilted to the side, hair falling with it, and a cocky smirk. beneath that damned blindfolded, hid the mischievous glint you knew was in his beautiful eyes. his eyebrow was arched mockingly.

not a single person would believe you if you told them that the egotistical man standing before you was the same man who pleaded over the phone for you to be here earlier.

“i was about to come in, satoru.”

you rolled your eyes playfully at him, fixing your posture and smiling. standing straight from the wall, you smoothed out any wrinkles on your clothes and loosened your grip on the plastic bag.

“uh huh,” satoru drawled. “and was that going to happen before or after your nervous breakdown, [name]?”

“haven’t decided yet,” you shrugged your shoulders.

“ah, i see, i see,” he nodded his head, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation. “well, that’s thirty minutes of our time wasted.”

“it’s only been thirty minutes? felt like forever.”

“time flies when you’re about to confront an ex.”

“hey,” you warned, a teasing glare shot his way. “you’re the one who wanted me here in the first place.”

“and you’re the one who called and came over,” he fired back quickly.

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” you huffed, sucking your teeth. he got you there, you’d admit (just not out loud). “are you going to let me in or what?”

“of course. can’t have my guest of honour standing outside more than she already has,” he chuckled, stepping aside and opening the door to the office behind him.

even as you walked past him to enter the room, your eyes never left him. for a moment, you paused, scanning his face, both of you standing under the doorway, taking in each other’s presence for the first time since the breakup.

your heart hammered against your ribcage, as if it might burst at any moment, racing and skipping multiple beats. was it because of the close proximity, the small space filled with feelings best left unspoken, or unanswered questions that neither of you dared to confront?

“what?” satoru asked softly, taking a step closer to you, his face inching to yours.

“nothing…” you gulped, glancing at his covered eyes, shifting on your feet for a moment. “just… take off that—”

“damn blindfold,” he teased, mimicking your voice. he pulled it off in one swift movement, tucking it into his pocket without breaking eye contact. “i was waiting for you to say that. you always said my eyes were your favourite feature of mine.”

and they still are.

“uh huh, if you say so,” you dismissed with a light backhand slap to his arm.

“oh, i know so.”

he pulled back, smirking. you leaned back, arching an eyebrow at him, mirroring his smirk in amusement, silently daring him to continue whatever was going between you two.

but after a moment of silence, both of you burst out laughing, sharing a quiet chuckle. you shook your head, walking further into the office and stopping in the center of the room, while he closed the door and stood at a respectful distance.

your office is still boring,” you stated bluntly, with no mockery, glancing around the familiar room that held many memories.

“and i bet you left yours in a mess,” he countered teasingly, taking another step closer to you. “papers everywhere, smelling like lavender.”

“it’s called organised chaos. thank you very much,” you shot back, turning your head over your shoulder to face him. “and for the record, my office smells like sandalwood.”

“my sincerest apologies,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. “didn’t mean to guess incorrectly.”

you stared at him, deadpanned. however, a faint smile tugged at your lips. realisation washed over you as you lifted the plastic bag.

“i almost forgot, i brought snacks!” you exclaimed, shaking the bag lightly. you offered it to him, the bag swaying gently. “it’s no kikufuku, but i hope it’s enough, birthday boy!”

butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he dropped his smirk, replacing it with a soft smile as he accepted it. your fingers brushed against each other, and in that split second, the tension in the room melted away, replaced by the familiarity of lingering feelings.

“thank you,” he grinned, opening the bag to reveal his favourite snacks and a six-pack of soda.

he peered up at you, a sly smile playing on his lips, “wanna sit on the floor by the coffee table, blanket over our laps, while we devour these for old time’s sake?”

you turned your head to the coffee table, noticing it wasn’t in its usual place—next to the expensive chair he bought. instead, it was already placed near the wall, where his phone rested on the surface, alongside two cushions and a folded blanket.

we were gonna end up sitting there anyways, huh?

“well,” you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, jerking your head toward the coffee table, with an inviting grin. “what are we waiting for, satoru?”

he didn’t hesitate to lead you both to the corner of the room. as he set out the snacks and six-pack of soda on the table—and you shamelessly opened the first packet of candy he took out, much to his amusement—you sat on the cushions and spread out the blanket over your lap, throwing the other half on his side, placing your phone next to his on the table.

the minute he sat down next to you, the air was filled with endless chatter and laughter, slurps and gulps of soda, the crinkling of candy packets and chewing. moonlight streamed through the window, and the occasional glance of the time punctuated the moments.

03:21 ・Saturday, 7 December

it was nothing short of a friendly conversation between two exes—catching up, sitting next to each other at a distance, offering a few elusive answers to questions about how you and he have been.

04:05 ・Saturday, 7 December

the gap between you and him slowly closed, unnoticed. four out of the six sodas were finished—courtesy of the birthday boy—and candy wrappers were discarded in the plastic bag.

you rested your arms on the coffee table, listening as satoru dramatically regaled you with another story of his life lately.

05:56 ・Saturday, 7 December

you and him had drunk the last two sodas, and polished off all the snacks—it was just the two of you and a sugar rush.

satoru had his elbow propped on the table, his face resting in the palm of his hand as he listened to whatever you were rambling about. whenever silence lingered for even a moment, he poked or pinched your cheek, teasing for a reaction, or added a comment or follow-up question.

he wanted to hear you talk, to see the way your eyes lit up, to hear the tone of your voice shift when you retold a story, to watch your hands move as you spoke—all while his other arm wrapped around your shoulders.

whether you leaned forward willingly or he pulled you closer by the minute, neither of you could tell.

06:35 ・Saturday, 7 December

time froze, and you didn’t know how you got here.

you and satoru had caught the sunrise, staring out the large circular window on the wall as the gray morning clouds slowly drifted away, becoming a lighter shade.

whispers of the past filled the silence, and for the first time you arrived, you and him found yourselves taking a trip down memory lane.

the conversation drifted from the first all-nighter you pulled together, to that random night you decided to star-gaze on a rooftop, pointing out constellations, to the one evening to spent at the beach—watching the sunset as you soaked your feet in the cold water, until satoru started a splashing war, kicking the water and sending you running after him for revenge.

you smiled wistfully as satoru recounted the memory. his eyes lingered on the horizon outside, the sky changing into a pale gray. his voice was soft, almost casual, as if saying it out loud would make it real.

“you know, i never thought that—that we would ever…” he trailed off, his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

you frowned, lifting your head from his shoulder to glance at him. his gaze met yours without hesitation, and his usual smug expression softened into something more somber. his arm fell from your shoulders, and despite the small smile on his face, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out before you had a chance to stop yourself.

“it’s not your fault,” he shook his head, his voice low, a flicker of something in his eyes—you couldn’t quite decipher it.

satoru reached out, his palm open and angled, as if to cup your cheek, but hesitated. he caught himself, curling his fingers into a fist before bringing his hand back down to rest on the blanket.

you avoided his eyes, unsure if you could trust yourself to look at him without the tears threatening to spill. it was hard enough to ignore the way your heart was clenching.

“i…i should go,” you muttered, clearing your throatas you removed your side of the blanket from your lap.

“right,” satoru acknowledged, his jaw clenched and voice strained. he moved to assist, completely shoving the blanket off and discarding it to the space next to him.

you grabbed your phone from the coffee table, tucking it in your pocket without bothering to smooth out any wrinkles in your clothes. instead, you focused on discarding the candy wrappers and soda cans with satoru—neither of you uttering a word—as you folded the blanket, nearly finished.

once the cleanup was done and his office returned to its usual pristine condition, you stood near the door while he was in the center of the room. the distance between you and him felt heavier than the closeness you’d just shared.

it was as if you were breaking up again—standing in front of each other in the same way: you walking away, and him left behind.

“happy birthday, satoru,” you whispered, your voice tinged with a deep sadness as your gaze remained fixed on the floor.

you paused, taking a shaky breath, fighting to keep your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “i hope you have a good day further… you deserve it.”

“thank you, [name], for this—for everything.”

no. thank you, satoru.

“it’s the least i could do,” you shrugged, trying to downplay it.

“i see.”

“yeah.”

fuck, you needed to leave. you couldn’t stand being here for another minute, knowing that you’re on the brink of breaking down. you’d rather cry in your car than in front of satoru. it was a crazy thought, because it used to be him who comforted you whenever the dam inside of you broke.

“i’ll… i’ll see you around, yeah?”

without waiting for an answer, you turned and walked to the door. your hand weakly grasped the handle, before you tightened your grip and pushed it down, the door creaking open—

“[name]...”

you stopped dead in your tracks, the door ajar. turning to face satoru, you blinked rapidly to clear the tears threatening to fall, but your vision blurred and you couldn’t quite make him out through the haze.

satoru took a step forward, his hand reaching out, before retracting it—as if he tried to close the distance between you. his mouth parted but no words came out; they seemed stuck in his throat.

“i want you to be there tonight—at my party—i want to you be there with everyone else—with me.”

your heart clenched at his words, the rawness in his voice cutting through you. for a moment, you could only stare at him as he stood there, vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely seen. his usual confidence was stripped away, leaving only the truth in his eyes.

“i…” you started, your voice trembling with emotions. “satoru…”

you tore your gaze from him, blurry eyes dropping to the floor, not wanting to see the faint hope in his expression. your fingers tightened around the door handle, and you swallowed hard, the weight of your decision pressing down on you as shuddering breaths escaped your mouth.

“...i’ll consider it.”

clinging onto whatever control you had left, you turned around and walked out with your head bowed. you closed the door with a deep thud, leaving him in the silence of the room—his outstretched hand frozen in place, with so much more left unsaid.

a/n: part three for @avietnu + @lizajane2 + @iamrgo !! i hope you enjoy it <33

call me gege akutami from how much i hurted satoru (i cried while writing this, ngl)

may whoever stumbles upon this fic enjoy it <33

much love, from me to you ♡

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[satonomi]

we’re all collectively his wife, so he needs to spend equal amounts time with all of us andOHHHMYGOD SATORU’S HAREM OF CONCUBINES AU??

“i have to be with my wife” “i have to see my wife” “i miss my wife” etc etc are things ijichi hears from satoru all day long in a loop from the moment he gets in the car. sometimes he’s forced to turn around and drive back to your house bc satoru becomes extremely hard to manage, he just really needs his wife. everything sucks when he’s away from you

[satonomi]

if there was one thing satoru loved about me, it was my back. of course, he loved the other parts of me too! like my face and my tits—but nothing gets him going like the sight of me in a backless dress. or when he’ll wake up next to me, nude and turned away, all exposed for him.

he’ll find himself praising the lord above on those fortunate days. his cerulean blue eyes roam over the expanse of my skin, tracing the gentle curvature of my spine with a soft gaze. and he’s unable to resist the urge to touch me, to run his fingers over the smoothness of my back. his wife.

he thinks how vulnerable i am like this, so beautiful—did he ever tell me enough? he’ll reach out his hand, the knuckle of his forefinger tracing downwards, feather-light. the skin of his own finger tingles at the contact.

deep in my slumber and yet, still so tempting, he grows bolder with each caress, letting his touch linger longer in the divot of my spine. he’ll repeat the motion again and again as my back arches sensually in my sleep, mesmerized by the way my body responds to his touch.

[solarenchanting]

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 ── .✦ gojō satoru x fem!reader

he made his wish before he even blew the candle

note: not thoroughly proofread (iʼm sorry (//ω//) ) + minor mention of suguru getō + usage of “[name].”

part one: birthday

the soft, silvery glow of the moon poured through the large circular window, illuminating his office. outside, the rain from the late night into the early morning was reduced with the faint drizzle, with the murmur of distant thundering.

the study desk, its wooden surface glistening faintly, was devoid of administration clutter. lesson plans and curriculum materials were stored away in the top drawer, the first-years’ assessments and mission reports in their own binder, and performance records and evaluations in another.

there was not much to it. the office was simple, organised, easy to navigate—a desk on the right side of the room, a lamp in the corner and a coffee table beside him as he sat on his rather expensive (not his words) chair, centered in the room.

there wasn’t a bookshelf filled with his favourite books—did he even have any?

the walls weren’t adorned with various framed portraits of his favourite artworks—no, that wasn’t his office.

there wasn’t a lingering scent of incense—was it lavender or sandalwood burning tonight?—held in that wooden boat burner perched on the windowsill.

there was no ticking of that pendulum clock hanging on a wall. where he’d stand in front of the clock, swaying his head side to side to match the rhythm of the silver swinging weight whenever he visited.

no.

it was quiet.

quiet, like the snow that would fall in tokyo later this month—when you’d compare its soft, powdery texture to his hair beneath your fingertips.

quiet, like the silence that followed that august afternoon. the sky was clear and blue just like his eyes, when you broke up with him.

quiet, like the moment you stood in front of him—almost unfamiliar, looking like the stranger he met years ago—and whispered, “goodbye, satoru.”

quiet, like the way he watched you leave, taking your memories of him with you, despite him still having so much to say.

he scoffed, clicking his tongue. his shoulders rose in a shrug as quick as they fell into a slump. his chair squeaked as he adjusted his position, slouching his back against the backrest with his neck leaning over the top rail.

his right ankle rested over his knee, forming a loose figure four. hands were clasped together over his stomach, he paused to tug at the damned blindfold—your words—lifting it up enough just to reveal one eye. he stared up at the ceiling, his gaze unreadable, lost in his thoughts.

the plain, dull surface seemed to echo the ache lying beneath his usual bravado—an ache that was raw, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore.

the worst part? he didn’t know what to do with it.

he was gojō satoru : the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. the one who shifted the balance of the world at birth. the sole inheritor of limitless and six eyes in four centuries. clan head, the pride of the gojō lineage, blessed with everything and anything—a god amongst mortals.

and yet, at this moment, he felt weak.

weak, because he didn’t know what to do with it—with the pain, the heartache, the… love.

love.

the most twisted curse of all.

a dry chuckle escaped his lips, chest rumbling lowly. he blinked his strained eyes, feeling his facial skin contract slightly from dried tear stains.

was he really going to spend the ungodly hours of his birthday being philosophical? placing reason behind everything that has led up to this?

stupid.

fucking stupid.

but he couldn’t help it. he couldn’t help but wonder: first, it was suguru—his best friend, his one and only—who walked out of his life.

and then, a year and four months ago—and he’s still counting—someone just as significant left him.

was his heart one beat slower than yours?

was he one step behind you?

those times walking side by side, walking hand-in-hand, were you both out of step?

he sighed tiredly, pulling his blindfold down to cover his eye, his hand returning clasp the other. he levelled his neck and stared blankly at the floor, his mind racing with images of you—the you that left him, eyes filled with unshed tears, lips whispering cracked words of finality. despite the painful memory, he couldn't help but think of you.

where are you now?

who are you with?

did you still have those gifts or have they been thrown away?

did you even remember that today—

buzz!

buzz!

he jerked in his seat, turning his head to look down at the coffee table, his phone vibrating eagerly against the wooden surface. his eyes caught a glance of the caller id, and he did a double take, breath catching, in clasping a hand, he reached out for the device with speed, bringing it up to his face.

1:01 ・Saturday, 7 December

Incoming Call

[last name] [name] ・0xx-xxxx-xxx

decline ・ accept

“... uh, hello?”

your voice—familiar and soft, a tentative whisper.

it was sudden; he hadn't thought it through. his heart overtook his mind before he could second-guess himself, pressing the phone to his ear and clearing his throat.

“hey… [name],” he greeted, his voice steady and measured, trying not to sound too wistful. it was simple, but good enough, he hoped.

“hey! i, uh, i just called to say, happy birthday!”

his lips tugged into a lopsided smile. beneath the ache in his heart, warmth began to blossom from hearing your voice—and the fact that you remembered. the forced cheerfulness, despite the awkwardness, was appreciated.

“thank you, i appreciate it. truly,” he chuckled, his voice was a bit hoarse but he hoped you couldn't tell. “you’re the first person to wish me.”

“really?”

he could see your disbelief—furrowed eyebrows, eyes blinking twice, and lips slightly parted. he shook his head, never imagining you’d be surprised by that. you used to stay up until midnight just to wish him first.

“yeah…”

“i see…”

“uh huh...”

you cleared your throat, your brain was definitely scrambling to come up with something to fill in the silence—and he doesn’t blame you, his brain was working overtime right now, grasping at straws.

“so, gojō, how ha—”

“no.”

“... huh?”

he gripped the phone, knuckles turning white.

“don’t—don’t call me that, [name]. don’t talk to me like we’re… strangers.”

you let out a shaky sigh—a breath mixed with uncertainty and resignation.

“then what are we? if not that… satoru?”

“anything but. for now, please?”

he knew he was crossing a line, holding onto a heart that had perhaps already grown thin from letting go of the love it once held for him—god, he hoped not. he prayed.

“satoru,” you warned, trying to be firm but the crack in your voice gave you away. “don't make this harder than it already is.”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.”

it’s not your’s, either—he wanted to say.

he didn't want the first conversation with you in a year and four months to be this tense. granted, this was to be expected. no amount of preparation could have lessened the heaviness of this moment.

in fact, he didn’t want this phone call to be the last moment with him. another painful memory you both have to walk away from—move on from and act like it never happened in front of everyone—the second either of you hangs up.

no, not again.

not if he can help it—not if he can create one last happy memory for the both of you.

“hey, [name]? can you do something for me? consider it my birthday wish.”

“your birthday wish?” you scoffed, playful yet wary. “isn’t that supposed to happen later on today? with a cake and candles with shoko and the rest of ‘em?”

he grinned, leaning back in his chair. he took off his blindfold—a gesture you would’ve appreciated if you were here—and stared back at the ceiling. this time, there was a hopeful glint in his eye.

“nah, not this wish.”

“yeah? what is it, then?”

“come over.”

“...”

“come over and celebrate with me, as if we never broke up, for one last time… please?”

a/n: part two for @moonchhu + @trinniee !! - hope you like it :')

i hope itʼs enjoyable to anyone who stumbles upon it <3

much love, from me to you ♡

[satonomi]

silly little headcanon that when satoru sleeps, his dreams are full of all kinds of sweets, from chocolate rain to cotton candy clouds. early on, you learn exploring candy land was something he looks forward to every night. geared up with his silk pajamas, a satin eye mask, and the promise of an adventure, it excites him more than the prospect of fucking his beautiful wife, who lay sleep deprived next to him due to his random fits of giggles in the dead of night. and every morning when satoru awakens, you endure the enthusiastic talk about his journey through marshmallow town whilst barely able to see straight for a reason that, unfortunately, wasn’t mind-blowing sex.

[satonomi]

once you and satoru come home, all clothes are off. not because you plan to fuck, but because you both walk around the house naked. it became such a normal routine in your home that you barely bat an eye anymore, simply basking in each other’s presence which the two of you feel is the highest form of intimacy. making breakfast? watching tv? cleaning the house? all done unclothed. and when you’re angry at one another, the both of you put on clothes to see who breaks first—and it’s always him. he just really needs to check on his girls (your tits).

[satonomi]

i get why gojo is canonically a dog person, it makes sense. if he were to turn into an animal, it’d be a cat, but he wouldn’t get along with the other cats if you get my gist. like, he’d be a problematic cat and even in human form he wouldn’t get along with your cat cuz they’d be hissing at each other and fighting over your attention

[satonomi]

yeah and he’s taking it from me

Now that JJK finally ended I am free to say that Gojo takes it from the ass. No, I don't care what you say, he takes it up. He moans so loud he makes brothels go broke, that man is not a man but a whore. Thank you and have a good day.

[satonomi]

mr — i hate cats but the woman i love adores them and says cat puns all the time so i start doing it too and it’s like an inside joke between us and us only. i’d do anything to see her smile even if i find them corny as hell but then i end up liking it too and i don’t tell her but she knows — gojo

[satonomi]

kinda obsessed with the idea of satoru having an evil twin with no great power like him, cast aside, fucking with his life on the down low with the advantage of looking exactly like him — the only difference being a very distinct birthmark on his body that’s hidden under his clothing. dressing like him, wreaking havoc, fucking his wife — all things that are part of his routine just to mess with the egotistical, cheeky fucker. his twin brother’s actions get so atrocious, satoru finds himself confronted and hounded by friends and strangers alike about how utterly disgusting of a person he is, and he just stands there confused as they repeat back to him things that he’s apparently said or done with no memory of doing them.

[satonomi]

satoru with a short, hot-headed girlfriend who he makes feel tiny and uses the top of her head as a chin rest or satoru with a tall, cool-tempered girlfriend who he worships like a goddess and wants her to step on him?

[satonomi]

tw: infertility

deep down in my mind, i think gojo would have trouble having kids biologically. he genuinely wants babies, but no matter how hard he tries with his wife, it doesn’t work. and it’s very crushing, to him, who has always been alone. the one thing he wants is a big family, but he feels he can’t even provide that for his wife. his fertility issues would correlate with him being the strongest and being so powerful that it sterilizes him. it’s devastating for him and his wife since the both of them want children, but are unable to. this makes satoru hold more resentment towards his powers no matter how much he glorifies himself. for truly, being the strongest is a lonely path.

[satonomi]

ummmmmm excuse me, my dearest fae, you can’t just say this and then not expand???

bounty hunter satoru?? do you think he has a dirty little space ship that desperately needs maintenance and he constantly brings back aliens from trips just so he can play around with them, exploring their bodies till they’re trembling and whining…………………………………

imagine in a galaxy far, far away, there’s a place where aliens and humans co-exist. now, about most of the population of aliens appear pretty humanoid, just very colorful skin and hair (pink, purple, green, blue, etc.)

the setting is very much like that of guardians of the galaxy, and gojo satoru is the most notorious bounty hunter there is. i imagine him (i’ll try to post a drawing soon) with a lot of cyber tech. his whole outfit would be black and he uses two guns, one with blue led lights and the other red (trying to get y’all to envision.) he’d also have his signature blindfold but instead, it comes in the form of cyber tech mask glasses that can dematerialize by pressing a button on the side (kinda like peter quill’s.)

he rarely ever misses when he shoots and he always catches the perps (nah, i’d win space edition.) and satoru is very serious abt his job (ik shocking but he’s gotta make that bag somehow and being a bounty hunter pays really well.) he’s very confident to say that nothing is able to distract or deter him from getting it done. but unfortunately for him, he has only one weakness. and that was alien girl puthayy 😛

see, the problem was, aliens and humans can not reproduce with one another. it wasn’t impossible, it was just against the rules. and by that definition, it also meant that it was illegal to have sex with one another. but let’s be fr, it’s going to happen whether it’s outlawed or not.

the first time satoru’s fucked an alien woman, it was at a strip club. as a man, he was curious to what it’d feel like to fuck one. and unfortunately for him, it was the best he’s ever had. it was his guilty pleasure, the one thing no-one could know about or else, it’d risk his job. but it was just too good. and where he used to jerk his cock off to human girls on his ship, now he does it thinking about alien girls. it always has him coming fast, and sometimes, just the thought can have him busting a nut in his pants, completely untouched.

he’s never had mind-blowing sex like that before in his life. the man is already a sex fanatic and craves it all the time (it helps him blow off steam), but he can’t cum when fucking regular human women anymore ;( it’s cause aliens were far more sensitive than humans, their senses advanced with the ability to feel more. and there was no feeling on earth (pun intended) like rutting into a warm cunt that was eager to suck him in, strangling his cock cuz some alien chick was horny out of her mind, pussy practically drooling all over him.

it’d have to be a secret though. and luckily for satoru, no one suspects someone like him, who’s job was to hunt down rogue aliens, to love sloppy extraterrestrial pussy.

satoru’s ship is made from the same advanced tech as his suit. it gets dirty from his constant partying and hook-ups. so, when he needs to get it checked cuz some huge beefy alien dude breaks his console during one of his ragers, he doesn’t bring it to the usual repair shop everyone goes to for their space ships. oh no no, he goes to one run by the other species.

there were a lot of hot ladies working there (because sexism doesn’t exist amongst aliens like at least they doing sumn right unlike us 😒) so, a lot of the times, his ship doesn’t end up fixed at the end.

he… likes to stay and watch them with dark, hooded eyes as they prance around his ship, eager to do their job. every once in a while, he’ll put a hand on their hip, letting it linger just long enough before pulling away when he comes over to “check on the progress.” the touch isn’t uninvited, he knows from the sultry gazes and flirty touches that are given in turn that they’re very much into him too.

it’s not long before he has them bent over the console, thrusting into the warm gooeyness of their sticky hole as they mewl and whine for more of his fat cock while he pinches their sensitive nipples ‘till they squirm.

they’re loud, and he loves it. it feeds his ego to know how hungry they are for him, for his cock. aliens were known for multiplying by the dozen, he assumes it has something to do with that. satoru’s thought about it before, breeding an alien. it was just a fantasy though, a fantasy that has him spilling his cum inside them on the spot, their needy whimpers begging him to.

that was his routine, catching criminals and fucking alien girl pussy on the side. and when his next mission entails finding some lady who stole some priceless piece of tech that could’ve sold for a lot, he was on board to find you right away (and that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you were smoking hot.)

it was easy for him to track you, he was the best at this job after all. you try to flee but he manhandles you against the wall, trapping you with your wrists pinned behind you, his chest up against your back. his warm breath hits your neck, panting from chasing you down. satoru’s eyes are dilated, but you’re unable to see with your cheek pressed against the cool metal in front of you.

this wasn’t what you had expected, you were caught so easily! it was a bad idea from the start, but it was either take a leap of faith and end up rich or be broke forever.

the pleas instantly leave your lips, begging to be let go. you didn’t want to go to prison. you were young and had so much to live for! (the two cents in your back pocket 😓) satoru listened, his cerulean eyes twinkling with amusement and poorly concealed arousal as you went on, swearing how you’d never do it again, that he could take back what you stole and forget it ever happened. he contemplated for a moment, choosing his cards carefully, before he’s leaning in next to your ear to whisper, “no can do, sweetheart.”

you shiver, and the atmosphere seems to change around you suddenly at the shift in his tone. a feeling you were all too familiar with stirs in your stomach, your body simply a slave to pleasure (curse your biology!) and the way he had spoken to you just then had you wet in a matter of seconds.

you try to compromise, “i’ll do anything!” it flies out of your mouth before you can even think. and he smirks, like he had been waiting for that the entire time.

“anything?”

and that’s how you end up getting railed by the human man who was sent to capture you.

“‘s so fucking good— fuck!”, he’s slurring by your ear, like he was getting drunk off of pounding into you. the thrusts were desperate, as if he could never get enough of your insides. satoru could stay like this forever, watching his cock slide in and out, stretching you open with his girth. he clings onto you like he never wants to let go, your wrists free and resting on the metal in front of you, the warm puffs of your breath condensing on the cold alloy. strong pale arms covered in high-tech were wrapped tightly around your waist while his hips thrust into you with a hungered fervor.

you release a keen whine, senses overwhelmed by the pleasure. satoru craves to see and feel your puffy cunt enveloping his girth over and over. he was obsessed with the way an alien girl acted at her most natural state, unable to fight the desire to be bred like a feral animal, not a single thought in those dumb brains once you stick a cock in them.

the tip of his mushroom head hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and absolutely gushing around him. he gives you a low groan of approval when you clench, “jus’ like that pretty, jus’ like that—”

then he lets you go after blowing a load inside you, leaving you with shaky legs and a throbbing for more. and you totally don’t start thieving more often just so he can come find you and do it all over again.