#Child Suguru Geto

[munv]

𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗.

𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘀, 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆. 𝗡𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼'𝘀 𝗴𝗮𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻.

A series I forgot to post..

The water cascaded down your back, and you let out a light sigh at the sensation. It was a long mission

When you arrived at the abandoned hospital earlier, you were expecting one singular first grade, and possibly people to save. Yet, you were forced to fight with two special grades.

You figured they either forgot to mention it in the report you had gotten, or whatever money for brains idiot didn’t sense it.

Possibly the latter.

Swiftly exorcising both curses, you wiped the sweat from your forehead. It caused a little trouble, but nothing you couldn’t get rid of.

Which, was the initial thought before hearing noises. Was that sniffling? Perhaps you missed a lower cursed spirit under all the racket made.

The remaining sparks of cursed energy was a little odd you have to admit, but usually a lot of cursed energy in one spot leaves residues at times.

Footsteps from your combat boots echoed within the hallways before a pair of black combat boots stopped in front of one specific door.

The sign next to the room read out ‘Room 63’

The closer you were, the more audible the supposed crying really was. Hesitantly, but ready for anything you placed a hand on the door and turned the knob.

The possibilities were endless as your eyes fell upon the dark canvas of the room. Just as you entered, the crying had withered down into pathetic sniffling once again and a small figure in the corner was moving. It wasn’t that dark after all.

You approached the small figure, realizing this couldn’t possibly be a cursed spirit. “Hello?”

Your voice echoed within the room. And the figure perked up. Oh, its probably a child?

“I don’t mean any harm, Promise!” You took another cautionary step to test if the child was willing to let you closer. They let your closer without flinching at least, good.

The child let out a broken hum of affirmation in response before you crouched down eye to eye.

As if it was a scenic moment, the moon shined in from the open window that allowed in light.

You observed the young child with interest.

His hair was black and short, but a bit long for someone of his age at the same time. Looked around the age of 7 or 10, with matching amber eyes.

He inched closer to the corner with a downcast expression, avoiding and breaking eye contact immediately.

You softened at this. He looked so fragile for a young boy his age.

“Hey..whats your name?”

He looked at the other side of the room before turning back to you, “I’m..Suguru” he mumbled out.

“Suguru” you tested his name on your tongue before giving a faint, small smile. You reached your hand out and placed a hand on his small head before ruffling up his hair a bit.

“Ill take care of you”

[aheckinmess]

Fierce Little One

(Part 5 of Cursed, Not Cute.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Dad Sukuna, Ryomen Sukuna, OC Child, Child Satoru Gojo, Child Suguru Geto, Lazy Day Stroll, Overall Fun Friendship Times, Protective Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro, And Yes - He's an Asshole, Satoru Gojo is an Idiot, Angst, Sukuna's Daughter Has to Fight Toji, That Tells You Everything You Need to Know, Also There's A Tiger Spirit, She Spits Wisdom Daily, We Love Her

Word Count: 2,224 words

Summary: Now a teenager, Besu has another friend added to her arsenal. Suguru Geto. After a day of chatter and teasing each other, Gojo and Besu head home before curfew. They're not expecting a life-threatening roadblock on the way home.

Chapter 5: Fierce Little One

Besu giggled at Geto as he seemed completely unbothered by Gojo’s usual antics. While Gojo and Besu often fed from each others’ chaotic energy, Geto acted as their emotional stabilizer. When Gojo first introduced Geto, Besu couldn’t deny her concerns. As daughter of the Curse King, she’d grown accustomed to being used as an advantageous pawn to get to her father.

Which meant she expected to be shouldered aside in favor of someone better than her.

Now? The three of them hung out all the time. Her father didn’t seem fond of the idea that she was best friends with two boys, but even she noticed the small smile he had every time she rambled to him about their misadventures.

“Satoru, you’re too confident for your own good.” Geto sighed, shaking his head with some amusement.

“C’mooonn, Suguru! You know the three of us could take on anyone!” Gojo smirked and nudged Besu for backup. “What do you think, Besu?”

“I can’t make a comment on this.” She chuckled. “I’m sure we could hold our own, but I’d rather not tempt fate at the ripe age of thirteen.”

“You’re no fun!” Gojo poked her cheek and she smacked his hand.

“While you may be pure chaos, Satoru, Besu actually has a logical head on her shoulders to balance out her chaotic behavior.” Geto said evenly.

“Yeah, but if I had asked her without you around she would have agreed!” Gojo leaned his head on Besu’s shoulder with a dazzling simper on his lips. “Wouldn’t you, Besu?”

“Satoru, I am not fighting the world to satisfy your appetite for destruction.” Besu snorted, ruffling his hair to make him get off of her. “If I was going to do that, I’d have joined my father’s crusades across the country long before now.”

“We can invite him, too!” Gojo taunted.

“I’m sure you’d have his blessing.” Geto added with a playful nudge.

“But you surely wouldn’t have mine.” Baekho rumbled, swirling into existence by Besu’s feet. “Just because you are capable of great destruction doesn’t mean you should cause it.”

“Party pooper!” Gojo stage-whispered to Geto.

“Aren’t you supposed to be yin to the dragon’s yang? The most fearsome auspicious beast meant to cause wanton destruction?” Geto quirked a brow.

“Just because I am capable of great destruction does not mean I should cause it.” Baekho reiterated. “I am known to be a harbinger of death and destruction, but that does not mean it is all that I am. At my core, I am not unlike Besu here.” Besu felt peace in the coolness of her tiger’s cursed energy as Baekho rubbed her misty head against her hand.

“Are you saying we should fear Besu as we fear you?”

“Baekho isn’t scary!” Besu frowned at Geto. “She’s my friend!”

“I believe he’s talking of a different type of fear, Cub.” Baekho chuffed. “He speaks of a fear that strikes awe into mens’ hearts. And to answer your question, young Suguru, yes. Though I am perhaps biased a bit in favor of my own cub. She has a ways to go, though, before she earns her stripes.”

“Why do you call Besu your cub? Did you and her dad have a little too much fun in the spirit realm?” Gojo snickered. 

“No. I call Besu my cub just as I would call any of you my cubs. Though I am known for destruction at times, most of it has only ever been created in the thralls of my own protective nature for humanity. I’m sure you’ve also heard tales of my dedication to justice and morality.”

“Suguru!” A faint, female voice called as the group closed in on Geto’s house. “It’s almost past your curfew! Come on!” 

“Thank you, Baekho, for your time and insight.” Geto gave her a little bow before giving his goodbyes and jogging the rest of the way home.

“Ugh. Don’t you ever get tired of defending the weak, though, Baekho?” Gojo pouted.

“It is all a matter of perspective, young Satoru.” Baekho rumbled. “If you only see people as a measure of weakness or strength, then you’ve missed out on the most beautiful part of humanity. You’ve reduced everyone to nothing more than common beasts based on your own subjective ideals.”

“Subjective? Everyone knows what strength or weakness looks like!”

“You know what it looks like to you, perhaps. And there is a communal view of strength and weakness for the majority, surely. But look at Besu. Do you think she’s weak?” 

“Of course not! She was taught by the King of Curses and you’ve attached your spirit to her.” Gojo scoffed. “Who would be dumb enough to call that weak?”

Besu shrunk a little and tilted her head down as they rounded another corner, making her miss a flash of black hair moving into the shadows as they walked.

“And yet Besu believes herself to be weak and unfit to be your friend. Mere physical strength is not the only measure of strength as a whole.” Baekho’s ears twitched and she halted, eyes trained on the empty streets ahead. Her head tilted back to the alley behind them. “Sometimes strength lies in being the weakest and still enduring every hit landed. Sometimes strength lies in being weak and knowing you need help. And sometimes,” Baekho bared her teeth as her eyes locked on the dark alley across from them. “Strength lies down an abandoned alleyway.”

Besu only had time to turn her head when a man flew from the alley, honed in on Gojo. Of course, he never made it past Baekho.

Instinctively, Besu shoved Gojo behind her, eyes locked on this strange man. Black hair. Scar on his lip. Oh no. Just like she’d known Satoru Gojo upon her first glance, Besu’s father had warned her about Toji Fushiguro. While the Curse King might have no issue fighting such a man, Besu still had training and growing to do.

“What business do you have here?” Baekho snarled, teeth poised at Toji’s throat.

“What do you mean? You have any idea how much money I could get for Satoru Gojo’s head alone? But to find out he’s hanging with the princess of curses, well…” He chuckled. “That sounds like a two for one sale if I ever heard one.”

Besu witnessed Toji’s strength first hand as he shoved Baekho away from him and went for Gojo first, who was running headlong into the fight with a grin.

“Satoru, don’t!” Besu screamed, but her plea fell on deaf ears.

“I can take on this coward!” Gojo laughed, before time seemed to slow as Toji’s fist connected with the infinity of his stomach and sent him flying back. “Try and fight me when you can’t hit me!”

What are you doing, Cub? Get up! Fight! Baekho shouted in her mind, rallying on Toji as he moved with such speed he seemed to teleport.

Besu shook her head and her training took over. Fighting a foe as fast and strong as Toji was second-nature, but even so, she had yet to beat her father in a sparring match. The only advantage she seemed to have in this fight was a second pair of arms. There’s no way we get out of this alive. I need to warn my father. Rally your cursed energy while I hold him off! And Besu did. She focused on the pit of her stomach like her father taught her and moved it up, up, up to the top of her head.

WHACK! The wind was knocked out of her as Toji slammed his fist into her gut. It was nothing compared to her father’s dismantle or cleave, but it still dazed her.

“You should know better than to walk unguarded, Princess.” Toji sneered.

Besu found her mind frozen even as she fought with Baekho in a seamless dance fitting a princess of curses. But everything stopped when Gojo leapt at Toji and she watched him pull out the Inverted Spear of Heaven. Where the hell did he get that?!

“You might be fast and strong, but you still can’t hit me!” Gojo laughed.

“Stop, Gojo!” Besu leapt toward them with a scream.

Her heart stopped when the blade pierced Gojo’s chest and her friend’s eyes widened. When Gojo flopped to the ground in a bloody puddle, anger pooled in her gut as she flipped over Toji, ripping out a chunk of his hair and then grabbing Gojo before darting down the street.

I can hold him off for a little while, Cub, but you won’t be able to run the whole way! I have to get as close to Father as I can or Satoru will die! Terror and venom seeped through her bones with every breath. Her father would be able to heal Gojo. She might die getting him there, but she’d be damned if she let her best friend die.

“Hang on, Satoru. Don’t die yet.” She whispered to her friend. “Dad will save you. He has to.”

A block stood between Besu and her castle when she flew forward, using one pair of arms to catch herself and the other to shelter Gojo. Besu only had time to hide him behind a car before Toji zeroed in on her, pummeling her with blows not unlike her father during training. An innate, feral need to rip the man in front of her limb from limb caused her to grab him with a pair of hands and slam him into the nearest wall with the others.

And suddenly Besu couldn’t move. She defended herself half-heartedly as doubts fluttered through her mind. How could she claim to be any different from her father if those dark urges for destruction eventually won over? Self-defense was one thing, but the desire for Toji’s blood? Though her father subscribed to no such niceties like compassion or love, Besu broke the mold and couldn’t fathom a world without it. 

Baekho roared in Besu’s mind, leaping in to hold off Toji again, the color of her spirit now a crimson red in her rage. Baekho, I have to save Satoru, but I can’t be like my father! I don’t want to be fueled by his appetite for destruction! I can’t fight Toji! Then you have condemned young Satoru to death! Besu’s lip quivered as she looked at Satoru’s body behind the car, tears mingling with her own sweat and blood at the thought of him dying. Meanwhile, Baekho fought for her relentlessly in a way she felt she didn’t deserve. If you stand there and do nothing, he will die. If you stand there and forsake your training, you will both die! But how can I say I’m devoted to peace when I have to stoop to such lows to reach it? What you speak of is not peace. You speak of being harmless! A true pacifist is capable of great destruction and chooses peace. Toji struggled under Baekho and a pained roar came from her as he freed his right side. Still she persevered. But if you do not fight right now you are not promoting harmony or helpfulness…you are promoting harmlessness. And you, Little One, are far from harmless.

One final look at Satoru, and Besu noticed his head was tilted up. Glistening blue eyes pleaded with her. Help. His mouth didn’t move, but she could swear she heard the plea uttered from his very soul.

When the angry fire rekindled in Besu’s veins, Baekho turned a different shade: purple. And suddenly Besu felt unstoppable as she turned offensive with her tiger companion. Her speed doubled and, while Toji still matched her enough to block every hit, she could tell he hadn’t been expecting the barrage of assaults between the two of them.

We have to end this quickly for Satoru. I don’t know how much longer he’ll live! Then let’s finish him. Use the technique your father taught you. And though Besu had never executed a dismantle or cleave successfully, she let instincts take over as she dodged a swing of Toji’s sword and swiped two of her fingers in front of her, aiming for Toji’s throat.

When she felt the technique hit but Toji still landed with a grin, Besu stopped breathing. Real fear clawed into her throat as she wondered what her death might mean for the already doomed fate of Japan.

But her shoulders slumped with relief when Toji’s smiling head fell off his shoulders with a thud, and the rest of his mangled body plopped forward. She dashed over to Satoru and cradled him in her arms again, ignoring the burning pain saturating her every limb. Gojo remained her only concern.

“FATHER!” She yelled through the mansion as soon as she stepped in, only able to make it through the threshold before her body gave out on her.

Blood soaked the entry rug when her father’s face came into view. 

“What are you–Besu?” Annoyance gave way to alarm as Sukuna flashed to her side. “What the hell happened?!” 

“Toji.” It was the only explanation she needed to give for now, especially as exhaustion claimed her. After she set Gojo’s limp body in front of him, a sob tore from her chest. “Dad…please don’t let Satoru die.”

 Her body didn’t wait for his answer as the world turned black.

Continue Reading -> Ch. 6

[seafumes]

rich husbands who make their whole life about taking care of you.

oh, that necklace you glanced at while at the mall? now you're there trying several other ones on because "they all look perfect on you."

the dress you looked at through that shop window? bought. plus anything else you even remotely wanted.

that snack you crave almost all the time? he almost buys the whole business for you just to have them as often as you'd like. (in moderation of course!)

rich husbands who don't understand why you want to work, and every time you tell them why they simply say:

"i can provide more than enough for the both of us, but go ahead."

rich husbands the second they see you all stressed and tired from that job, call in and quit for you.

and when you try to get up the next morning to go to said job, he ushers you back to bed, lays you down and tells you to "not worry about that pesky job again."

rich husbands who like to make it known to everyone that you're married to him.

buys you the biggest rock you've ever seen adorned on your finger to propose to you, and makes it his routine to see if you have his ring on. (which you always do.)

indirectly flaunts it to passersby's by holding your hand, occasionally picking your hand up to inspect it, and trying not to crack a smile as he hears women gasp, and whisper, "she's one lucky woman."

rich husbands who tell everyone they know about you, whether that be coworkers, family, or random people, he'll always somehow flip the conversation to being about you.

"oh that? my wife is quite fond of it, yes."

"that reminds me of my wife, she quite likes those things. often calling them "cute.""

rich husbands <33

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[giamee]

𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄!

... aka fictional boyfriends as things my pet cat does lmfao

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ my genshin, hsr & jjk faves

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ switching up the layout bc i can teehee... also this one is kinda slop cos its just every character on my masterlist oop. N E WAYS i found out that im allergic to my cat but love is pain and i am a masochist so here we are

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DOESN'T RESPOND UNLESS YOU CALL HIM BY HIS NICKNAME.

he's leaning against your kitchen counter, fingers tapping against it as he's poised so deliberately to give off the impression that everything he's doing is so absent-minded. the way he's scrolling through his feed so aimlessly, just tuned out from the world, including you and your futile attempts at getting his attention.

you call his name, tug at his sleeve, and you don't miss the mischievous smirk on his lips as he glances up at you.

"i don't know who that is, sorry, i hope you find him though."

it's infuriating, sometimes, when he lets his more playful side out. but you know him well, and you play along, not being able to help the smile that fights to stay on your lips.

"well then, my beloved, could you help me look for him?"

and there's an instant change from him, back straightening as he stops leaning against your counter, arms open wide to receive you, a beam on his face.

"gladly, my love."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ kaveh, welt, dan heng, luocha, GETO

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GETS EXTRA AFFECTIONATE AND CUDDLY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

no matter as to whether you had gone to bed with him or before, you're woken up prematurely in the middle of the night at the sensation of your body being moved, ever so gently, across the sheets, closer towards a warm body that nestles itself solidly behind you.

you're barely awake, but you smile to yourself at the newfound comfort, having drifted away as you slept, and now happily reunited.

"i missed you," he breathes against your ear, turning his head to dip down and press kisses to your cheek. you smile, nose scrunching at the ends of his hair that tickle your skin, but welcome it nonetheless.

his arm slips around you, keeping you safely anchored to him, and he lets out a contented hum that almost sounds like he's purring, chest solid against your back.

"you're acting like you've come back from war," you murmur, and he can hear the way you tease even in your half asleep state.

"every second away from you is agony, my love."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ DILUC, alhaitham, JING YUAN, choso, NANAMI

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 RANDOMLY BITES AND HEADBUTTS YOU.

sure, there's doing something unexpected to grab your attention, but it catches you off guard every. single. time.

he has seemingly no regard for whatever it is that you're doing- you're cooking something? he sneaks up behind you, teeth sinking into your shoulder before he slinks away like it never happened.

trying to get work done? he comes up to you, using his head to poke you and offering no explanation as he walks away.

it's ... endearing, to say the least. it comes from a place of love, that's for sure. make no mistake that you like to bite him too, but he still manages to one-up you each time.

while it started off as surprising in the early days of your relationship, over time you've adapted to it, now even offering a body part for him to headbutt as a greeting.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ cyno, WRIOTHESLEY, neuvillette, BLADE, toji, HIGURUMA

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 FOLLOWS YOU AROUND AND WHINES IF YOU DON'T GIVE HIM ENOUGH ATTENTION.

"babyyyy, i'm bored."

you don't have to turn around to know that he's pouting, some grown ass man acting like a toddler in hopes that you'd pay attention to him. you can't help but roll your eyes, what with him pushing the limit between cute and aggravating for the past half an hour or so.

ever since you had invited him over and he practically let himself in, he had basically followed you from room to room, huffing and puffing as you focused on your work instead of entertaining him.

and as you finally settled in your room, at your desk, you watched out of the corner of your eye as he flopped down onto your bed, his head dangling off the edge as he scrolled through his phone half-heartedly.

and you had to admit, he looked cute like that. you bite back your smile as you see him glance up at you to see if you're looking at him before flopping back down on the bed with a huff.

you'll be done soon, then you'll give him all the attention he wants.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CHILDE, thoma, sampo, gepard, GOJO

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... enjoy the silence!

an introduction to your new roommate dan heng, and the guitar that he loves to play so much

[miserableworm]

★ Obsessed <3 ★

Men who are completely obsessed with you. Every time he looks into your eyes, he sees nothing but pure desire and need for him. He knows that every inch of your body belongs to him, and he will do anything to ensure that you are satisfied beyond measure. His touch is gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid of breaking something so precious if he doesn't handle it just right.

Yet he's here overstimulating you to the point you are rolling your eyes back and you're crying, begging for mercy. But he just keeps going, teasingly soaking up every drop of moisture with their tongue while watching you squirm beneath them helplessly.

"Just give me one more baby," he whisper huskily against wet flesh before diving back in again without waiting for an answer. Your legs are spread wide open before them, invitingly wet and ready for their touch as they continue to push boundaries further than either of you thought possible under normal circumstances.

- Tartaglia, Gojo, Geto, Wriothesley, Toji, Aventurine, Choso, Dan heng, Sampo, Gepard, Alhaitham

[makelemonade]

Imagine sending your favourite genshin or even jjk men a video of you while they’re away on a mission/work trip.

but not just any video- specifically one where you’re on your back, a toy fucking into you and somehow you seems to have either taped the phone to your ceiling so he could see your whole body or you got a camera for the view.

but it’s not just ANY TOY. It’s those toys that produce insane amounts of fake cum and they don’t stop (I’m a slut for them okay) and he is losing it.

it’s 3 minutes, the first few seconds he’s watching you lay down, taking note of your shirt- it’s his. God that turns him on already, and what makes it worse is you have nothing else on. No parties, pants or a bra. Just his shirt.

You hike it up over your chest, mumbling “don’t wan’ get it dirty…” Your nipples are exposed and he wished he was there to play with them- hell suck on them too.

He watches you get comfy, reaching up to finally let the tip of the rather large fake dildo fit its way into your pussy and he’s surprised when it starts moving on its own- as if it has a mind.

It starts slow, and he feels himself throb against his pants, but he couldn’t take it out and jerk off just yet. He still had so much more to do today, but he didn’t wanna stop watching the video- he felt like he’d betray his morals and sin if he didn’t worship you the moment you sent the video.

Your moans make it so much worse. They’re so whiny, and he knows the toy isn’t enough for you- he knows you need his fat cock, fucking into you at a pace with a certain roughness you oh so love.

He groans when you reach one hand up to begin to play with your left nipple, whining even more as the toy started to go a bit faster. He loved the fact you were teasing yourself with it, knowing that he’d tease you just as much.

“M-miss you…” You breathed out with a moan, the toy going faster and deeper into you and your hands shoot for the sheets, gripping onto them.

He’s struggling insanely- would people notice if he left? Could he just abandon it all and come back to his slutty wife? God he was debating it.

“Nghh- baby! I need you!” You whine out as your hips start to thrust itself onto the toy and he literally almost moans at the sight.

It’s going a lot faster now, but not as fast as he could ever be with you. It’ll have to do though, since he can’t be there for you. He almost laughs however, because how could this slow toy ever truly satisfy you- it’s not like his cock which stretched you wide and the way you scream when he cums all-

Oh.

The toy cums.

His jaw drops and he literally moans at your gasp when it produces such insane amounts of fat cum to the point it forced itself out of you and went all over your chest, reaching your nipples. Now he understands why you hiked his shirt up.

It’s never-ending. There’s a pool of cum under you and it’s all over your chest. Like. ALL OVER.

It stops after 15 whole seconds of cumming nonstop and if anyone could see him right now, they’d wonder why the hell is his jaw so low, eyes so wide and DAMN his dick is so big you can see the outline just from his pants.

Yeah. Now he’s gotta take it out, he decides as he runs to a nearby private place while texting you.

Such a dirty slut. It’s ‘cum’ will never be the real thing, though. Can’t wait to come home and cum into you triple the amount it got on and in you.

^^ really any of the JJK + Genshin men I can honestly imagine them ALL. I imagined this heavily with Nanami, Geto, Alhaitham, Childe and Diluc. Also Goio but bro would teleport to u to fuck u and then teleport straight back LMFAO

[yuikira]

Meanie.ᐟ

Mean!men who want you on all fours and in their favorite lingerie after coming back from work.

Mean!men who are the biggest tease, taking their sweet sweet time to open their package (a.k.a you) and relish the sweet sweet taste.

Mean!men who love to put you on all fours and spank your cutesy little butt until it's red.

Mean!men who claim that it'll fit. And if it won't, they'll make it fit.

Mean!men who do not care if you feel torn apart from their gigantic cock, they know their baby can take it.

Mean!men who pull out at the very last moment and cum on your stomach, when you (desperately) wanted him to breed you full tonight.

Mean!men who coo and laugh at their whining baby, assuring them that they gotta be patient and will get what they want in due time.

"Awww baby are those tears? You cryin' for me, pretty girl?" he coos at your desperate state, tied up and tears flooding down your eyes. You just wanted to play with him for a little bit, but how did it and up like this?

"Shhh love.... you'll get what you want in due time.." he mumurs, wiping off the fat tears off your face and kissing the bridge of your nose. Your trembling beneath him, deprived of 4 orgasms non stop and holding a vibrator to your clit while tears stream down your face was such an exquisite sight to behold. Perhaps you wouldn't mind if it went on for a little longer like this.

-gojo Satoru, geto Suguru, Kaeya, Childe, Ayato, Aventurine, Sunday, CHAMBER CHAMBER CHAMBER, Yoru + your favs.

[arctvros]

jujutsu high teachers flirting on the job (cursed child arc alternate ending)

[reallyromealone]

Title: meow meow

Fandom: jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Gojo - Geto

Fic type: cat au

Pairings: Gojo x Geto

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, cat reader, cat characters, human characters fluff, child reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Did Gojo just spend five thousand dollars for his cats?

Yes.

And was he ready to spend ten thousand more?

Absolutely.

Gojo watched as the tiny kitten stumbled around excitedly before standing on Gojos foot, the man leaning to pet little (name)s head as his bigger cat lounged on the tower, a pure white Turkish angora with striking blue eyes. Geto called him a narcissist for getting a cat just like him, he just wasn't expecting his cat to come home with a black male Norwegian forest cat and a tiny kitten.

"The black one looks like you" Gojo said to Geto who huffed at the sight of the black cat watching over the tiny kitten who played with a toy mouse as their white cat purrtoru watched from higher up, deeply protective of his family.

The two watched from the couch as purrtoru was making his way down to see his kitten... Only to try and take the toy.

And it wasn't for worry.

Purrtoru was just an asshole.

The tiny fluff ball meowed angrily as mewguru smacked the white cat angrily with a yowl as the tiny kitten went to the humans to fix the situation as he seen his dad's do before as the black haired one lifted the itty bitty "you're papa is an asshole" he said as Gojo huffed but pet the little kittens head, the two smiling as (name) put his tiny mitten on Geto's nose "still can't believe they just brought you home, knowing our bastards they kidnapped you " prime example mewguru came to retrieve his little baby.

The two watched as the cats cuddled on their bed, a nice dog bed that fit the three of them comfortably and (name) cozy and sleeping in between his dad's while purring like a motorboat. The two cats beside him grooming each other and occasionally giving kisses to the kittens head.

"I want a child" Gojo said suddenly and Geto spit his drink out.

"W H AT"

[corollaservant]

Silver // Geto x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You grew up together, small village and a need to get out. He was always selfish. (5.1k)

Warnings: child abuse, childhood friends, noncon/dubcon, yandere, loosely follows Geto's downfall/canonical setting, derogatory use of ''monkeys'' (it's Geto c'mon), violence, drowning, they get their ears pierced so idk if that grosses you out.

A/N: angst n smut for Suguru, that's all. i really said here have a fic with the basic sugu trope for the nth time.

You always wanted a doll. The dolls weren’t like the ones you saw on the black and white advertisements in your mom’s weekly newspapers. They were pretty—had doe eyes and a cute hat, a white jacket over a pink knitted dress, their hair was almost always in pigtails with wrapped-around ribbons. You always wanted this one doll. 

‘’Sweetie, we can’t afford a doll, you know your father’s hardly making ends meet.’’ Your mom told you over dinner, while your father remained silent. You never knew whether he had nothing to say because he didn’t care or he felt sad. You weren’t close, maybe you weren’t sure because you were afraid of him.

Father used to yell, he wasn’t a patient man. Mom was late to make food? Yell. Clean his clothes? Yell. When you came late from school, he’d yell. Your mom justified it, he was exhausted, working all day in the field. But you really wanted that doll. 

‘’Mom, please! I will pay you back.’’ You desperately begged, you were only ten, of course you couldn't pay back. Your mom sighed and let you down after that. You didn't cry, only crawled to your bed as you silently begged for the doll to magically appear when you’d wake up. 

The old lady noticed you frequently. You’d walk for half an hour after school (the shop was the only addition the village had ever gotten and while diametrically opposite from your house, you were more than willing to take the extra mile) — only to stand outside. You hesitated to touch the window, remembering this one time your dad pushed you and you fell down the stairs because you’d made mom upset. You had touched the kitchen window. Your mom cried, your dad had eaten his soup in silence and gone to bed. You wanted to ask the lady the price, you wanted to know if there was another way but while just ten, you were smart for your age. You knew that regardless of the answer, the doll would never be yours. 

It was hide and seek day with your friends. The village’s stadium-like field offered a variety of hidden spots (behind a bleacher, the toilets, the church across or the trees around). The bleachers screeched but you all were pros at disguise so it worked most of the time. Upon getting there, you saw the usual faces, some kids you knew, one of them lived close to you. Across the field sat a boy you didn’t know. Funny, you thought. You knew almost everyone in the village and he seemed of school age, how come you didn't recognize him? Daylight fell behind the roofed bleachers, signaling your time to go. You wouldn’t want to make father upset.

‘’This is the last time you talk about the doll.’’ He told you that night as he brought a hand to your face, his tone was stern but he seemed calm. Your right cheek burned but you couldn't cry. You had realized that the more he rejected you, the more immune you became—pain stopped having emotional ties. You still wanted that goddamn doll.

You were sent to your room but even then tears wouldn’t spill. Your window allowed you to jump from a reasonable height and it was past your parents bedtime so you found yourself in the cold night within minutes. You had no watch, not that it mattered anyway as your feet dragged you towards the woods. You knew your way in, you had mastered it back when dad used to drag you to the fields— people really were afraid of forests, as if they would suck them in, leave them confined but the trees never harmed, they just listened. How many times had they heard you cry? A lighter stolen from your father’s nightstand (the one in his drawers, you did not want another altercation) led you down a slope. You weren’t afraid, you knew it led to a creek, an ardent stream flowing day and night. People from the village used to come often (if they had the strength, they now visited wells closer to the center) — the water was cold and clear, maybe too cold for a swim, you’d realized once you experimentally submerged your feet in it and they froze. 

‘’Why can’t I have that doll, dad?’’ You cried, the water drowning your muffled sounds, it soothed you and allowed you to be yourself. ‘’Why, why why!’’ You screamed, tears fell down your cheeks, as you frantically wiped them with your hand, wincing at the feeling to your right, father really made a point with that one. ‘’Why can’t you tell him I want that doll, mom?’’ And you cried and cried until a sound — a rustle of leaves startled you. 

‘’You shouldn’t be here.’’ A voice rang behind you as you quickly turned around. The boy with the dark hair and oddly colored eyes, you thought they looked purple but that wouldn't make sense and he was too far away this morning.

‘’W-who are you?’’ You retreated, you were too close to the stream. 

‘’Just go home, it’s dangerous to be out there.’’ He said as you furrowed your brows.

With childish stubbornness you told him that it was none of his business but the more you talked the more he approached you and you suddenly lost your balance, your back dragging you towards the water as a hand grabbed you and pulled you back up. 

‘’Please leave now.’’ The boy said firmly and let his hand go. You lowered your head ashamed and lit your father’s cheap Zippo to guide yourself back home. Who was this guy?

-

His name was Geto, you found out because you asked your fourth grade teacher, who told you she couldn’t ever reach his parents to ask why they never sent their son to school. Legislation was non-existent, the village had no childcare protection otherwise you would have been sent away years ago. No one cared after all; children born there were raised to become farmers or whatever they were forced into. 

Geto never showed up to school, he would however show up after, while all of you played in the field, silently observing and reading from a book. You didn’t think he could read. 

You had once invited him to come play but he had declined the offer, ‘’No, thank you.’’ He had said as you asked for his name. ‘’Suguru.’’ Pretty name. 

-

The pain was enough to make you cry this time. 

‘’Want to tell me who the hell this Suguru is and why he left a stupid doll for you?’’ He shouted— his hands had already left a mark on your arms from pushing you, his nails had dug inside. The slap after was violent and strong and it made you dizzy while you coughed, there was no blood but your jaw hurt. 

‘’I- he’s from my school I— d-don’t know anything... about a doll..’’ You choked while his eyes burned. It wasn’t often he was that lively, you guessed anger really was a strong motivator.

‘’Well, you finally got your stupid doll. What is it, did he fuck you?’’ He spat as your mother interrupted.

‘’Honey! She’s only ten!’’ And she cried, and you cried and he threw the beautiful, pink dressed, hand sewn doll to your face, it hit your forehead and you stumbled and fell to the floor. 

‘’Stupid, all of you are stupid.’’ He growled and went upstairs. Your mother gave you a pitiful look and silently left for the kitchen. Your weakened arm reached out to the doll beside you.

She’s pretty, thank you, Suguru.

You shakily grabbed it, a teardrop stained the beige thread and brought it to your chest.

But Suguru. The damage you’d done.

-

You had never seen him with his eyes wide open before. It was kind of funny, you had to admit, he looked at you—his expression a mixture of shock and pain, what had he done? The kids (your friends) hadn’t really said anything, they were all familiar with your family’s background, experiencing more or less the same themselves. But Suguru... he was different. 

‘’Thank you for the doll.’’ You smiled, he hadn't.

His eyes had darkened back then, his mouth formed a tight line as he apologized. 

‘’I.. didn’t know.’’ He said, ‘’I’m sorry, I– I just heard you talking about it, you know.. that night and thought it might have cheered you up. I’m sorry.’’ He spoke and you reassured him that you appreciated it. You did. It was like he knew which doll you liked, the one he chose was the one you desperately wanted. You played with her every night, talking to her in silence and telling her that Suguru was a nice kid. Yeah, you liked Suguru and felt sorry internally for thinking of him as responsible for your fathers actions at first.

But Suguru didn’t understand—a need suddenly appeared that day. When he had first seen you, he knew you were careless. Knew you were angry and hurt. The words that came out of your mouth concealed emotions he wasn’t all too familiar with. On the contrary, he found the passion and pain intriguing. He didn’t think he’d ever expressed the two. When he saw you on the field, weak, trembling, the doll held firmly in your arms as you thanked him with your bruised eyes, that was when the feeling awakened in him.

Suguru always had a strong sense of justice. He hated whomever stole from the shops (he knew the suspects and would throw gravels at them), he helped injured animals by bringing them to a tree house he’d built on his own, he stopped fights and hated exploitation towards the defenseless. Your sight alone hadn’t awakened his sense of justice, no, that was almost as innate as his sense of hunger—you made him want to protect. You made him feel a need as basic as hunger to protect you. You didn’t deserve it and he was not one to forget.

In an ironic way, the incident brought you both closer. You would hang out daily after school (your efforts to convince him to come were fruitless), you’d take a walk towards the woods, the stream under the steep slope had been your secret hideout. You didn’t need to lie to your parents, they still thought you played in the field while you were with Suguru. As for Suguru’s parents, that you didn’t know about. He didn’t speak much and when he did, he told you about his plans to save the world. From what exactly, he didn’t even know himself. Days turned to months and months into years as you and Suguru grew older, still teenagers but doing other things now, such as buying alcohol with Suguru’s money (you never asked and he always wore his father’s clothes; somehow he convinced clerks he was of age), drove around in his dad’s car and got both your ears pierced. Well... he had them stretched and you helped with that.

You’d never forget that day—you were equipped with needles and xylocaine, it was apparently a numbing anesthetic. Both of you knew nothing about proper sterilization, you hadn’t even heated or marked the spot you wanted, all you had was a needle and dreams. Your piercings were easier, it was after all a small hole and it burned like hell but that was nothing. Suguru’s on the other hand had been a torture. It was understandable that for someone without an already pierced earlobe, stretches as a first was masochism itself. But Suguru didn’t utter a word. Not when the needle (cold and dirty) pierced the lobe. Not when the silver stretch couldn’t squeeze through the bloody ear. Not even when you felt the excess skin on your hands and you winced, kind of disgusted. You often wondered how Suguru always maintained composure and secretly admired him. If only you weren’t that weak. The stretch operation was deemed successful and celebrated accordingly: with cheap liquor and cigarettes (for the occasion). It wasn’t even two days later, when you noticed Suguru’s earlobes. Black gauges decorated them instead of the initial silver stretches, which you’d told him to let heal at least for a week, his lobes were in bad condition.

He was always selfish. 

-

The last time you talked was a year ago. One year and fifty-three days. He hadn’t come back, he didn’t have anyone he cared to visit. He had been acting strangely this one time he came to pick up clothes, looking above people’s shoulders, scratching his neck and forehead, contemplating. He looked malnourished and joyless.

When you found a handwritten note (how you missed his handwriting) with a simple “come to spot” a year later, you felt your heart race. It had a time and an S. at the bottom. You were hardly surviving at the time, school almost came to an end, an adult already and you hadn’t even graduated and your dad was becoming harder on you. There wasn’t much thought on your after school plans, all you wanted was to get away. To escape. The rest would come later.

The sun was done shining when you stepped down the known slope, the volume of the stream, as if nothing had changed, threatening to drown life on its way. You’d sat on your back, looking at the sky above as day and night merged in the interim.

A flame nearby caused you to stand up. What had happened? Where was he? Faint animal noises and movement could be heard but the slope was deep and you’d have to climb up, which would take you some time and then... what about him? Should you run, go look for him? You were about to climb back up when a shadow casted above you. There he stood, in what you presumed a school uniform and a bloodied face, dark hair swept back and falling down his shoulders while his eyes landed on you. You took a step back. 

‘’W-what happened? Is everyone alright? Are you alright!’’ You shouted, why did you shout? The words mixed up. He could only smile as he kneeled, jumped and landed in front of you. You examined the blood up close—it had started to dry, leaving crusts under his eyes, which he scratched before he spoke. 

‘’It’s alright, I’m here.’’ He spoke softly, almost whispering and apologetically smiled. Something seemed off. What wasn’t he telling you? What were those voices and why was it quiet all of a sudden? Your nostrils flared, a strong smell of smoke made you dizzy. 

‘’S-suguru.. what's—what’s going on? We have to go look, maybe someone’s hurt, maybe they need—’’

‘’I said, I’m here.’’ He raised his voice an octave, same smile on his face, making his eyes crinkle, but it felt odd. It felt forced.

‘’I know what happened to them.’’ The fake smile fell about as quickly as it’d appeared, each word equalled a step toward you. You were moving closer to the angry stream behind, you had to cough from the smoke entering your lungs.

‘’W-what do you mean you know? What happened!’’ You thought you yelled, maybe you hadn't, your voice cracked, cutting the question in half.

‘’I killed them.’’ He said with the same ease he’d propose a ride in his dad’s car. He noticed your eyes widen, your hands covering your mouth from the smoke that would soon engulf you both fully, flames he had set on a village that didn’t matter at the end.

You blinked; he presumed this was the part you’d start crying and lashing out so he inhaled.

‘’Aren’t you happy? Your parents are gone.’’ He heard you yelp. He was really doing you a favor, all these incompetent people you surrounded yourself with had to be gone. Sure, your parents weren’t your choice but you’d be better off without them anyway.

‘’W-why...’’ You couldn't breathe properly, your lungs were filled with smoke as your heart palpitated abnormally, you tried—tried like hell—to scream but syllables came out broken, constricted and incoherent and the more you tried to make your chords work, the more you lost your voice. Your eyes shed tears in silence, they spilled on your clothes as if on cue—you couldn’t approach him, you were terrified as you looked around. For help? You didn't know.

‘’What are you looking for? I’m right here.’’ He said as he took a step closer. 

‘’Don’t touch me!’’ You choked—it was barely audible.

‘’What did you say?’’ His brows furrowed. 

‘’I-I said– don’t touch me!’’ You managed and he sighed.

‘’After everything I’ve done for you...You know, I really could’ve just killed you before. You are after all useless to society. You can’t even see them.’’

Killed you? Useless? The eyes you used to know didn't belong to him anymore, someone else's blood distorted them. You found yourself thinking about his face more than what you just heard. Had he killed them all? Your parents? His parents? Your old classmates? You sobbed but he continued to look down on you and talk.

‘’Everyone’s gone, for you. And that’s my thank you? Your parents, the stupid kids from school, the doll lady…’’ 

‘’Why! What have they ever done to you?’’ Your knees betrayed you, you felt the ground beneath you.

‘’They never cared about you. The old lady would never give you that doll for free. She hated you being outside her window everyday, what a nasty child she called you, did you know that? Your dad? Fuck,now if that wasn’t a blessing! This cunt abused you and your mother for years... well, your mom had to go too, there’s no way a conspirator gets off the hook that easily. As for everyone else... they were just useless, you know? Thinking, feeling, cursing, swearing. Disgusting beings create us all more problems. You know, you ought to be an exception to this.’’

‘’I- I want to go. L—Let me go..’’ You stood up, he wasn’t holding you; you felt like a hostage. Why?

‘’You're sick...’’ You continued, a disgust behind your swollen eyes as he squinted his. 

‘’I'm sick?’’ His eyes, though you couldn’t see much, lit up under a moon trying to glow behind smoke clouds. 

‘’That’s funny for you to say because last I remember you were weak and a victim, not me. Seriously, I thought you’d be happier about it. I granted you temporary freedom, shouldn’t you be a bit more grateful? I always wanted to protect you...’’ His steps brought him millimeters apart, one more step and you'd be gone with the stream. 

‘’I always wanted to be there for you.. I thought I felt something every time I looked at you. You were so... vulnerable and exposed, I’d be there for you. But you know what?’’ He took a step forward as you fell — he was quick to catch your waist this time. 

‘’I realized, I just fucking hate you.’’ He spits as his breath hits your face, you shut your eyes and turn your head away. 

His arm pushes your shoulder down, forcing you to kneel on the ground, your knees sting as he continues. 

‘’I asked myself, why should I protect the weak? There must be some flaw within them that makes them stupid, don’t you agree? Why should you have to endure your father’s abuse instead of doing something about it? Why’d you have to cry on my shoulder because you were too weak to act on it? You had to come here to cry about it, remember? Pathetic.’’ He says, face filled with revulsion.

The pain in your knees is nothing compared to that in your chest, you break with each word that comes out of his mouth, he seems passionate—a true hatred reflecting on his eyes and you wish to be dead in that moment. 

‘’W-why..why–’’ You try to fill your lungs with air as you suddenly feel a leg on your ribs, a kick that sends you almost in the water—he’s kicked you and you’re lying on hard ground while he’s still standing.

‘’Why,why,why. Shut up already. I told you why. I do not like the weak and you aren’t an exception. See, I could have you killed so easily.’’

He smiles as his palm grips your scalp and you’re being dragged all the way to where soil meets the stream, pain hits different spots on your spine along the way. You don’t have time to understand what’s happening until your head is immersed in the water.

Cold. Dark. No air. You can’t think, it feels like an eternity before your head’s out and you gasp—lungs filled more with water than smoke and you wish to die. 

‘’S..st–’’ You can’t continue, his palm brings your numbed limbs and spinning wet head close to his, the dried blood touches your cheek. 

‘’There’s one thing I’d like, before we say goodbye.’’ He breathes on your face, his eyes linger on your drained lips. 

‘’I’d like to see the weak in you one last time.’’ His lips are on yours, they feel so warm and you’re shivering, trembling under his touch as his tongue slides without a second in your dried mouth. His saliva soaks the perimeter of your palate and your mouth doesn’t move—water washes off some blood on him. 

‘’Will you kiss me or have a swim again?’’ He asks ever so politely and you sob.

‘’P-please...’’ But this mustn’t have been the right answer because you find yourself underwater, this time it lasts longer (or so you think) before you resurface and gasp. You wish for an end.

‘’Let’s try again, hm?’’ He says, as he brings his lips back on yours, a warm tongue pushes past them, salivating in your dry throat.

You kiss him back, softly and slowly, following his rhythm as his hands already search for your wet chest, slender fingers trail down your neck and poke at the crevices. They stop at your sternum, groping the skin and he growls in your mouth, you move mechanically as your heart shatters.

You used to love him. You never told him of course, that would be stupid, you didn’t think he’d ever love you back—well, in your defense you didn't think he could love anyone back but you did. The first time he gifted you the doll, when you cried on his shoulders, when you pierced his ears. Looking back, he wasn’t always selfish. 

He continues the journey of his hands, his mouth is still attached to yours, it shouldn’t feel good, but it feels warm, and you need more heat, you’re freezing and can’t breathe. He hums as he finds your skirt, perfect and accessible, he thinks. You’re shuddering under his touch. He can't tell whether it's from the cold water or not but he doesn't mind. 

A finger finds your slit over your panties, as he vertically traces your skin along the way. He starts from your belly button, passes over your clit and teases in between folds, a light touch that upsets you. 

‘’Stop.’’ You whisper, weakened and confused. Wet and cold. But he doesn't.

He is rubbing your cunt slowly, he has removed his mouth and only plants soft kisses sporadically; a kiss each time he rubs up and down, tender and laced with care as the first moan escapes your lips and he catches it with his mouth. He takes it, you’d be embarrassed to let him know you enjoy this, it’s okay. He doesn't want to ridicule you, just to show you world order, that's all. 

Your underwear gets pushed aside as warm fingers now touch your bare entrance, he had gathered heat from your cunt and his spit—he had to spit, you weren’t that wet. But that would change, he was confident in it. 

His slender fingers part your lower lips slowly as he thrusts one in your cunt. It’s not violent but it’s enough to push your body upward as you sigh, a mixture of unwarranted pleasure and disgust by the predicament. He likes your soft sigh, he wants more.

‘’It’ll feel better, I promise.’’ He smiles gently and you fight the urge to gag, your cunt suddenly makes disturbing noises, as he now works two fingers deep within you, steady pace, straight in the middle. A thumb brushes past your clit, as he removes both fingers and circles it slowly... so slowly you melt, you feel like you ache but.. what is it? It's an ache you like, it's an ache you can't fight and don't want—but you can't do anything about it and—

‘’I think this should work.’’ His hand is removed and brought to his mouth to taste you. 

“Sweet.” He smiles. 

His pants are quickly removed, the need with which he hurries is comical—under other circumstances you’d laugh, you had never seen him so impatient and unreserved but it’s different now, now that he almost drowned you and is about to kill you. Why couldn’t this just end? 

You don’t look at him, you don’t want to, but you make out an arm that brushes against his groin as he slowly moves it up and down his cock. He likes the sight, it’s almost like straight out of a painting: you sprawled out, wet in every sense, a smoke filled scenery behind you and your precious, weak cunt for him to savour. Yeah, that was this day’s highlight, he thinks and grins. 

His thoughts excite him, precum exits his slit with each stroke as he kneels down and plants a delicate kiss on your knees. 

‘’I’d always protect you.’’ He murmurs, as a hard cock slides in between your legs and you draw a sharp breath. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts like crazy, he is hurting you with his size, he fills out your whole cunt, you feel like you can’t take anymore and then— then he pushes more, slowly, bit by bit until you shriek, begging for him to stop. 

‘’I--is too much! S-suguru–” You wince, as he carelessly continues.

‘’Who’s Suguru?’’ He frowns, a hand coming to clasp around your neck and he stays still. Your cunt can’t adjust but he’s not doing it to help you, he wants an answer.

‘’It’s Geto now.’’ He grumbles as he starts moving in your walls while you squeeze instinctively.

You are too tight, he takes it you’ve never been fucked before, makes sense and yet he likes it better this way. Your face distorts in pain but you’ll soon feel better, he knows because he was a virgin last year too. How he wished for this moment to come. Everything was perfect, you were perfect, your cunt was perfect, your eyes... perfect. Maybe the weak had something to offer after all. A blind faith and a good heart.

‘’S-Suguru–’’ You wrongly moan and a palm slaps across your hurt cheek, a flashback of your dad’s hand making your skin crawl, it was the same spot. Your walls are too tight to take him and he fights the urge to groan.

‘’Last time.. unless you want a bath, pretty.’’ He says as he thrusts his cock repeatedly toward the same direction, your cervix—hitting a bunch of soft, vulnerable spots along the way, fuck, you were so perfect and untainted, he wishes you were different, maybe like him.

He’d take you with him on his journey to cleanse the world from filthy creatures that polluted it, that had his friends dead, that cost the Jujutsu High lives daily, that had his friend constantly on stupid missions and for whom? Ungrateful filthy pigs—no, they weren’t pigs, at least pigs knew their place, they were monkeys, always eager for more, for power that didn’t belong to them, monkeys ready to snatch and never give; disregarding consequences for all others. If only you weren’t one of them. 

He watches your pretty mouth contract, your head arched back and eyes closed in shame as he brings you closer, he can tell by the way you squeeze his length inside, shit, you’re making his cock too wet, your slick smudges your thighs and squelching sounds almost cover your tormented sighs each time he sinks into you. 

‘’D–Does that feel good?’’ He asks while you pant, tears fall down the sides of your face, a red mark of his fingers on your left cheek but you don't answer.

‘’Answer–agh..answer me.’’ He orders, picking up his pace until you can’t anymore.

‘’Y-yes!’’ You cry out, stinging nettles dig in your back contrasting the pleasure in your core that grows—such a lewd thing, you’d come to hate yourself for it. If you were to live, of course.

He’s close too, thrusts becoming uncalculated and erratic yet never really seeming to stop being pleasurable, a rough thumb now circles around your swollen nub, making your legs jerk.

‘’Fuck–Sugu—fuck!’’ You clench around him, the heat coiling low ready to betray you and you see him part his mouth. He doesn't correct you.

‘’Let go baby, I love you.’’ He whispers as you shut your eyes and it's these words that have you ride out an orgasm so intense, you choke on moans and wrap your wounded legs around him. Arms circle his back as his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you as he slides his cock as deep as he can, pads of his fingers removing wet strands from your forehead; he cusses out.

‘’Fuck, mine—forever.” He grunts and finishes inside, nibbling on your neck, as your tangled legs bring him even closer, breaths synchronizing where your chests meet.

He stays within your silky walls, relishing any moment he can before he removes himself, leaving you split, stained and quivering. He lifts up the elastic of his pants. 

His time is running out, the spectacle in front of him clouds his reason—you look so pretty, with his cum oozing from your hole, your ashamed hands covering your chest and your eyes waiting for his next move. If only you weren’t flawed. If only you weren’t weak.

To kill you would be easy, he only stalls in case you want to add any last words. And you do. 

You look at the man who used to be a boy, the one who gifted you the thing you wished for most in the world; not the doll, but love and you smile. Your left eye is bruised and can hardly open, one of his blows must’ve accidentally landed on the wrong side of your face or maybe it’s the water pressure, you can’t think, as you open your mouth to speak. 

‘’Behind you.’’ You whisper, as your right eye catches a small, bug-like shadow buzzing around his hair, ready to attack his neck. 

You only notice his eyes widen before darkness envelops your peripherals. 

[yu22tas]

do y’all get what i mean when i say subby dom? like i don’t mean switch leaning dom or a sub who takes control sometimes. i mean like a dom who’s super whiny and needy and just takes what they want (with consent ofc consent is sexy) ;(

(smut below cut) (both parties gn but dom is amab. mentions of squirting, overstim, unprotected sex)

can you imagine coming home and they’re like immediately on you, whimpering into an opened mouth kiss and humping your leg because they need you so bad :(

before you know it they’ve got you folded into a mating press, fucking into you with reckless abandon, pushing their cum deeper inside you :(

at this point they’re shooting blanks (maybe even squirting teehee), having fucked you both into sobbing, shaking, and drooling messes :(

their balls are empty and their cock aches, almost burning from overstimulation but they just can’t stop fucking into your tight hole because it feels so, so good :(

and maybe when they finally force themselves to pull out, they’ll put their head between your legs and eat their own cum out of you :(

that or they keep plowing into you until the both of you have passed out ;(

[huboi]

men who eat you out like no tomorrow

mdni!

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

men who insist that you sit on their face. wait, you’re worried he’ll ‘suffocate’ and that you’re ’too heavy’? nope, he’s not hearing it.

sit on his face already and let him enjoy the warmth of your hole whilst you ride his face to oblivion

men who groan whilst you ride their face, large calloused fingers digging into your thighs and leaving marks in their wake

you’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe he enjoys this more than you do

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

╰┈➤ miguel o’hara, gojo satoro, geto suguru, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, choso kamo, kaeya, zhongli, childe, thoma, wriothesley, nuevillette, alhaitham, kaveh, doma, uzui tengen, eren jeager, armin arlert, reiner braun + your favs <3

[arctvros]

cult leader off duty

[sorrowsdespair]

Who Let Gojo Have A Baby Carrier

Contains: Getou x Satoru, baby reader, gender-neutral reader, spoilers for the anime, might expand these into headcanons, not proofread

-

Episode 2 - Megumi although wouldn’t openly admit his trust in Gojo’s abilities to keep you safe and unharmed, that doesn’t mean he’ll let the dumbass fight Sukuna with you in a baby carrier strapped to his chest. “If you don’t give (Name) to me, I will call Getou.” He threatened and Satoru waited no time doing just so not before calling him a big meany. Unfortunately, Satoru had made the mistake of sending Suguru a photo of Megumi ruffled up when he had sent them to the second year.

~

Episode 3 - Nobara’s first impression of her new teacher was anything but good. So to see him with an adorable baby dressed in bright-colored clothing in his arms, she had to assume he was just babysitting because there was no way he was responsible for such cuteness. She even noticed Megumi giving Satoru the stink eyes which confirmed her thoughts. Especially, when the man had lied about taking them to Roppongi and instead to a rundown building with a curse in it. “First, you lied! Then you bring someone else’s baby to such a dangerous place! What’s wrong with you!”

Satoru pouted, “I’ll have you know this baby is my munchkin, I’ll be out here while you and Yuji will be dealing with the cursed spirit!” While placing you in the baby carrier facing him and gently rubbing a single knuckle against your cheek.

~

Episode 7 - Jojo assumed Gojo was foolish to face him head-on. Sure, Gojo had come out unscathed from his first attack but he wasn't to see you, an infant, strapped to the man’s back also unharmed. You had let out a couple of coughs followed by a whimper prompting Gojo to turn his attention to you. “Oh! Give me a moment,” Jojo was annoyed how unbothers Gojo was and had to watch as the man readjusted the strap so you comfortable resting on his chest.

Jojo tsked, he this was his prime opportunity and he was going to take it. Besides Kenjaku had informed him about how beneficial it would be to use you against Gojo and Getou. All it was for him was to figure out how to separate from the two of you or he could just kill you both. “Ember Insects!”

“Well, that's not very nice.”

~

Added Bonus: Ijichi may fear Gojo, but he tends to forget how Getou can be way scarier because not only was Gojo late, he was supposed to arrive with Gojo Satoru especially when he had you with him for a meeting with Principal Yaga and Getou, but he had allowed the both of you to exit the vehicle a random location for unknown reasons.