#He will come to find you even when you think you are too far gone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

specialgradefckr · 9 hours ago

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Heartline Gone Flat

tw: explicit content, extremely unhealthy relationships. gojo/geto, gojo/reader, geto/reader, stsg/reader. female!reader. pining. mind games. catfishing. non-consensual filming. extremely under-negotiated kinks. safe? maybe. sane? it's INsane. consensual? allegedly.

bondage. knife play. it gets fucking crazy. no one retains any degree of sanity by the end of this fic. every single character is deathly allergic to honest/healthy communication. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

You're not stupid. You notice the cameras.

It's not easy, mind you. Suguru - it had to be Suguru, Satoru didn't have this kind of calculated approach to anything - had hidden them reasonably well.

But the flash of a light, a glint where there shouldn't be one... suddenly you were finding cameras everywhere.

At first, you wondered. Why the hell would they bother spying on you? They already fucked in the living room. Groped each other right in front of your salad.

And then, this one time. Suguru had just finished eating their little hookup girlfriend out, his lips still wet and sticky while he lifted up his head.

He met your eyes. Dark and violet and... hungry. He didn't look away. All his pretty words, all the honeyed excuses that you know would pour from his lips, and he didn't look away.

No, your gaze was only broken by a head of white hair, Satoru pulling in to steal a kiss. Blue eyes glinting at you, so bright you have to look away.

He'd wanted you to see. They both had.

You know it, now. But why are they watching you?

And you think back.

Missing panties. Your vibrator dying on you constantly. Your lube running out. Your toothbrushes wearing out quickly.

Suguru does the laundry. He knows where everything is, like the clean freak malewife mother hen he is. Satoru keeps using your bathroom even though he and Suguru have their own.

So they're fucking with you. They're fucking in front of you. They're spying on you while you try to fuck yourself.

All that and they won't fuck you, won't even try.

Why? Why why WHY WHY! What do they want? What are they fucking doing?

Suguru won't tell you. He'll deny it's even happening. Satoru -

You don't like that shimmer. The way his eyes seem to stare right through you. His ethereal beauty.

The lurch in your chest every time he looks at you.

You'd had time to come to terms with your crush on Suguru. It had been a slow burn, a low simmer, a pull in the back of your mind that makes you nod your head and smile and sigh every time he asks you for something, every time he makes some excuse.

Suguru was comfortable. A well-loved, soft blanket you couldn't bear to wash, couldn't sleep without.

What you feel for Satoru makes you want to throw up. Shove him down, bite into his fucking neck and eat his heart straight out of his chest.

Every time you see him with Suguru it makes your fingers twitch. Your cunt clenches - do you want him inside you? Do you want Suguru inside you instead? Do you want his pretty mouth pressed up between your legs, pretty blue eyes gazing up at you, tearing up as he suffocates on your cunt?

Who the fuck knows. But you want, you know you want him. Like nothing you've ever wanted before in your life.

But you can't have him. You can't have anything, and, as far as you can tell, they're fucking taunting you with it.

So when you see the cameras... the next time you catch them fucking, Satoru moaning loudly, as if exaggerated, Suguru muttering dirty talk that could have come straight out of a porn script -

Well.

If they're filming you... and if they're so determined to be your personal porn stars...

Why not oblige them?

There's this man at the club that Suguru doesn't like.

They try not to bring men back too often. Women work better, make you more jealous. And he'll admit he doesn't like the thought of Satoru wanting a dick that's not his. He knows Satoru feels the same.

Though, with the way this pink-haired, tattooed man is looking at him, it looks like Satoru's whore instincts have gotten ahead of him.

"Who the fuck is that guy?" He whispers, bitingly, a hand over Satoru's hip. Mean, grasping.

Satoru laughs, but it's an uncertain sound. "Sukuna, I think. I remember him from tinder a couple years ago."

"Matched with him?"

"Guess so."

They don't have to wait long to see what the guy wants. How he glares at them both. Larger hands snatching Satoru's wrist, glaring down as Suguru when he tries to shove him back.

"Whore," Sukuna spits, glaring down at Satoru, "I paid you good money and you fucking blocked me?"

What?

"The fuck are you talking about?" Satoru snaps, as Suguru's mind races.

Is Satoru fucking around? But they spend every moment together. And he sounds genuine.

Sukuna isn't dissuaded. He snarls and sneers and acts like Satoru is playing dumb, until he finally pulls out his phone, revealing a series of DMs with someone called...

SatoSugu <3

What?? Who???

"You told me you weren't exclusive with your little boyfriend here," Sukuna growls, "Guess that was a fucking lie, too. Keep a leash on your slut, yeah, Daddy Suguru?"

And though Suguru does like to think of himself as having paternal energy - for a man like Sukuna, that's a bit on the nose.

Satoru recognizes some of the pictures on the DMs, though.

They're selfies (thirst traps, really) that he's sent... to you.

It only takes a little digging from there. SatoSugu <3 is an OnlyFans account - and a big one.

There's regular uploads. It's full of shots of the two of them, sometimes shorts, sometimes even videos a few minutes long.

The angles are a big scuffed but the audio is usually good. Some of them look like they might have been recorded from a phone -

And they're all set inside your shared home.

"Well, well, well," Satoru says, sounding much more composed than Suguru is feeling, "Looks like we got more of an audience than we were looking for, huh?"

At least most of these are showing his good side. Oh, he looks hot in that one...

He remembers that time, too, where Suguru was especially pent up...

Satoru scrolls through the feed with a smile on his face.

He pays the subscription fee, too - ooh, you were making good money off of this - and licks his lips at all the saucy content.

Really, he should be thanking you for the archive. But after using them to make money without their knowledge, surely you owed them at least one... collaboration.

Suguru does not feel the same.

It's not a surprise - Satoru has always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak.

For him, it was different. Satoru had his own ways of being territorial, but Suguru was possessive, in a dark, heady way Satoru loved to stoke.

You were allowed to see because you were theirs. You were a part of this relationship, whether you knew it or not. Even if you hadn't claimed their bodies yet, you had their hearts.

Random girls they brought home - those were unimportant. Quickly discarded. Tools to be used to make you jealous; they got only as much contact as was strictly necessary, and no more.

But this?

Showing them off - showing his Satoru, the one he'd so carefully reduced to tears and quivering. His strong, beautiful Satoru, full of energy and slutty dramatics, meant exclusively for your eyes and his?

And him; you've been pining for Suguru for years. Now you're letting strangers see him in his most intimate moments?

It's... diabolical. Exploitative. A master stroke of manipulation, taking advantage of their attempt to make you jealous, reducing it to a moneymaking scheme.

As much as he hates to agree with Satoru, it is kind of a turn on.

He can't quite call it a betrayal. You must have found the cameras they'd planted, set some of your own, knowing they might not notice the extras.

There's a special sort of rage billowing in his chest at the thought of everyone who got to see him and Satoru without his consent. But he's not so foolish as to think he didn't have this coming.

The question was, why did you do it? Are you angry? Are you trying to profit off them?

Knowing Satoru, he'd be pleased with either answer. But Suguru wants more.

Suguru wants anger. He wants your gut to sear with fury like his does, he wants you to be seething at the both of them. Apoplectic.

The time to prod you, taunt you, lead you into making a move is over. This is your answer - infuriating and enrapturing.

His mind twists and turns at Satoru's suggestion. Collaboration.

Turnabout is fair play, after all. And nothing quite turns him on like scheming and fucking.

Perhaps he and Satoru will have to make the first move. This battle is yours... but the war?

Oh, it's only just begun.

When you do meet their accusations, you do so head-on, shameless.

"Oh?" Your tone is tinged with mock innocence, "I didn't realize you had a problem with people watching you. Sorry about that."

There's not an inch of apology in your voice, of course.

In fairness, it wasn't even an unreasonable assumption. They'd fucked in plain view in your living room.

"That doesn't explain the man." Suguru says, unwilling to even say Sukuna's name.

But you know what you did. He knows you do.

You meet his eyes with a gaze you've never shown him before, heavy with the new arrival of old grudges. It hits him like a hunger pang.

"I thought you were looking for a third." You say. "You're always bringing people back home. I didn't think you were exclusive."

Suguru savors the bitterness in your voice. Why not me, you never asked me, it should have been me.

Delectable. Every last chocolate-coated note of longing burnt to a crisp.

"So you pretended to be Satoru?" The white-haired dog of a man slinks up to his side, arms crossed. As if he cared.

Their eyes lock onto the pink slip of your tongue licking between your lips.

"It looked like a perfect match. You've both got a preference," You drone, "Strong guys, tall guys. He's stronger and taller than either of you, and his dick is bigger, too."

That has them freezing up. Tense. Air thickening with it.

He can feel Satoru nearly vibrating next to him. Straining against an invisible leash.

"That doesn't mean you can just impersonate us."

You fix him with a look the tired fingers of his thoughts are not able to unwind. Suguru could spend hours looking at you, picking apart every single inch of your expression.

He'd love every second of it.

"So?" You ask, challenge in your tone.

He smiles, eyes half-lidded as he closes in. "So, we both agreed... if we're going to be on the page, it's only fair if you go on there with us."

You take a step back, but it's not far enough. Satoru's lean, muscled form presses into you from the side.

"Yeah, babe," Satoru sings, "Isn't it time for you to upload? Come on, we can't disappoint the masses."

Boxed in, walled off. Suguru crowds you with the heat of his body, broad shoulders.

Ah, there it is. The nervous flick of your eyes, the tightening of your expression. Readying yourself for the crash.

Like white water breaking against the rocks. You've always been so malleable to him, so predictable in your moods, and yet somehow vaster and greater than he could ever command.

He thinks your lips on his, your waist encircled in his arms, is a fine start to mastery.

Of course, Satoru can never let him have anything - arms tug at his shoulders, a chest closing in from the side.

He moves to sandwich you between them, letting Satoru slot himself behind you. He knows it already, in the cracked blue intensity of Satoru's gaze, Suguru knows he's hard, desperate to grind himself against you.

"Oh, but you're not into me, are you?" You brandish the words like a dagger, "And we've been friends for so long, Suguru. We're all roommates, too. I wouldn't want to make things weird between us."

The pointed barb makes him laugh in spite of himself.

You still won't say it. Won't say you want them. You don't push them away, don't do anything to stop this -

You want him to say it first. And if Suguru isn't careful, Satoru might just sell them out to get his dick wet.

So he smirks, letting one hand trail down and underneath your waistband. Grasping your face by the chin and tilting it to look towards a planted camera. Satoru takes the chance to kiss your cheek.

"Oh, we play with girls all the time, Satoru and I, and you didn't mind recording," he purrs into your ear, knowing this isn't what you want to hear. "Don't you think you owe this to us? After putting us up without our permission, you should at least put yourself out there too, no?"

"Yeah," Satoru says, like the obedient, horny lackey he is, "What he said."

How eloquent.

"Since you both agreed on this," You say beneath lowered lashes - but this close, Suguru can feel how your cheeks have warmed, "You must have an idea of what you want to do with me."

Anything. Everything. He wants to toss you down, eat you up, watch Satoru fuck you from a million angles while he directs, fuck Satoru while he fucks you and vice versa -

But he can't let you goad him into saying it. Even under pressure like this, you're trembling, but not as trapped prey. You're burning from the inside out, fighting the urge to grab and hold and have them.

"Oh, I know we do. Satoru," He purrs, "Come here and help our dear roommate put on a real show, would you?"

Satoru groans as he thrusts into you. Hand on hip. Clingy, needy.

"Did you like it," he pants in your ear, like he's the one getting fucked, "Did you like showing us off? Showing me off?"

Egging himself on. A match that lights itself and burns up too close to your fingertips.

He has you on his lap, too close and yet not close enough. Facing forward, towards the camera in Suguru's hands (is it even turned on? you can't tell, can't look away from the hunger in those violet eyes).

Satoru's other hand winds around your ribcage, clasping one of your breasts, squeezing and groping freely.

"Showing that prick my - hngh, my selfies just for you?" He whispers, "Did you have fun pretending to be me? Teasing him, then blocking him? Did you think to yourself, you'll never have him anyways, you can never have my Satoru?"

A laugh comes out from his mouth, thundering through you, his muscled chest pressed to your back.

You want to see him. Pretty, beautiful Satoru - he's finally fucking you, and you can't look him in the eyes.

Suguru does. Suguru's eyes flick towards him, meeting his gaze. Just over your shoulder.

After all those years lusting for him, you finally have him and you can't even have him.

And it's glorious. It feels amazing, like nothing you've felt in your entire life.

He's good, so good at this, pressing into you just hard enough, just enough friction, the hand on your hip darting over to rub over your clit while he whispers his dirty talk in your ear.

"Did you like leading him on only to dump him? Wanna keep me all to yourself?" His voice is hot, breathy, dripping with thrilled arousal.

"Answer him." Suguru says, and he sounds so faraway, even though he's right there.

Watching. Filming. Directing, even.

Satoru's only fucking you because he told him to. The circles over your clit send you clenching, quivering, and Satoru whispers for you to answer, come on, did you like it? Do you like them?

"Of course," You choke on the words, "It was fun messing with Sukuna. But I felt bad for him, you know? Catfishing is one thing, but it would be cruel to inflict the real you on him."

There's a laugh from Suguru, even as Satoru's fingers dig into you. He leans over your shoulder just enough to stare at you from the corner of your eyes. Grinning.

You meet Satoru's crystal-blue gaze, lips curling into a shaky smirk.

"You're such a whore," You drawl to his face, gasping as he thrusts harder (his cock throbs at the word whore, this goddamn slut), "You vain fucking bitch, you love flirting, showing off your body, but I know when you and Suguru fuck, you make him do all the work."

Reaching around with one hand, grasping the toned tightness of his ass, you squeeze - even as a swipe of his fingers over your clit takes your breath away.

"Yeah? Then what am I doing now, babe?" Those eyes glitter at you. Satoru's locked on you, not looking away for an instant.

He's so fucking beautiful, all smirking and shining and heavenly flesh against your own.

And you feel Suguru's gaze like a leaden weight. Lick your lips.

(He's not yours. You can't have him.)

"Suffering, probably," You dig your nails into his ass and he hisses, cock twitching inside you, "Poor little pillow princess Gojo having to put in some effort for once."

Satoru's smile bares teeth at your use of his surname.

(Don't, Suguru mouths in warning, while your attention is fixed on him.)

"Ha!" It's a dry laugh, biting, feral, the words he wants to say stuck in his throat, "Fuck you!"

"You are," Suguru drawls, "Poorly."

"And fuck you, too, bitch, your hole is next," Satoru pants, thrusting hard and fast.

(He wants wants want wants WANTS. But Suguru wants, too. And he has you now, doesn't he?)

You keen as he drives into you, quick movements, fast circles over your clit that match the friction in your cunt. Closer, closer.

Something in his face spurs you on. Heart racing the words out of your mouth, "You gonna cry when you cum, baby?"

Taunting, snide, the words don't match the way your chest lurches as he hits a spot inside you, and heat spurts in your lower half.

It's agonizing and ecstatic; the hand not coaxing your clit into bursts of heady pleasure grasps your breast, clutching you back against him.

There's a noise from across the room, a shift or something, but it feels so loud to your ears. Like Suguru refuses to be ignored. Even in this one perfect moment of your fantasies come through -

Or maybe you just like him too much to forget he's here. To keep yourself from glancing over at him.

But Satoru isn't looking at Suguru. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, leaning his face into your neck as he groans, languid thrusts of his release jerking against your hips.

You feel wetness against your neck, hot, slick. Licking at you.

"No, but maybe you will," He purrs, sucking marks into your skin.

Hands roaming. Legs hooking over yours, limbs wrapped around you, refusing to let go.

You blink, hard, and no tears come out. Must be dehydration.

Suguru's eyes are burning holes in you. Even Satoru stiffens behind you. (His cock stiffens, too - is he really that much of a whore, or has Suguru trained him or something?)

"Ah-ah-ahhh," Suguru tuts, but it's a cold sound.

His eyes are sharp, pointed, "That can't be all. This is for the audience, after all. You should put on a good show."

It's almost malevolent, how he relished in your expression when reminding you of the shared pretense.

You meet his eyes with your own burning gaze.

"This is all for content, right?" The words are full of malice, of challenge.

You match him, smile for hateful smile.

"We should do things you two haven't done before."

Suguru had to hand it to you.

He didn't expect Satoru to be the first person to peg him.

Oh, technically, perhaps it could be considered from you. After all, it had been inside you, first.

"I seem to have run out of lube," You'd explained coyly, "You don't mind, though, right? Here, I'll donate some of my own."

So Suguru had sat and filmed while Satoru fucked the dildo into you. Rubbing it over your cunt even though you swatted at him, rushing him to put it in and lube it up.

Your hands on Satoru's dick in return, grasping tight and unforgiving. Like he wasn't already hard enough. Jerking him until he spurted all over your palm.

You rubbed that on the dildo, too, once he'd pulled it out of you. You couldn't stop a tight hiss at that.

Suguru keeps the vision of it in his mind's eye as Satoru fingers him open. Hands still wet with his cum and yours.

(It keeps him hard. That little gasp you made, breathy, a touch overstimulated, so soon after your last release.

What a large refractory window. He wants to break it open.)

The dildo is hot pink, bulging. Suguru had mocked it when they'd found it in your cabinet. Satoru thought it was cute.

By the smirk on his face, his opinion hasn't changed.

"Get on with it," Suguru grunts, shifting his legs to give him better access. Glancing at you, camera in hand. Eyes locked.

"Yeah, yeah," Satoru says, blithe as ever. Rubbing the dildo's bulbous, silicone head against his hole, "Coming right up, cockslut."

He can't help a scoff. "You're one to talk."

He's still half-worried Satoru will confess his undying love to you just to get his dick wet. Give up the game before it's really started.

"Wonder what the title for this should be?" You muse, "Slutty twink ruins goth's hole, no lube? You guys sell so well."

Suguru almost chokes out a laugh at that. You and Satoru, cut from the same cloth. He'd seen it earlier.

A pair of whores talking each other through it.

(It's never failed to make his blood burn.)

"I think we're owed a little more participation from you," Suguru licks his lips, "Come over here."

A trickle of desire he lets through. Just a droplet, really.

He watches your eyes dilate at the sight.

(Oh, you want him. You want him you want him you want him you want him and it's the most potent aphrodisiac he's ever known.)

The camera is abandoned on the table. Maybe he was in frame, maybe he wasn't.

What's far more important is you, between his legs, as Satoru sits him back on his lap. Up on his thighs, giving him space to slowly drive the dildo in.

And even though Satoru's face must be just behind him, a grin he can hear - Suguru knows you're staring at him. Trapped in his gaze.

Your hands crawl up his thighs. Shaking as Satoru stretches him. Working up to the cock that's now tall and pulsing against his lower abdomen.

The hunger in your eyes makes him tense. He's leaky already, not from how expertly Satoru is nudging his prostate, but from how you look at him like a dog staring at a steak after it's been told no.

Your eyes glancing between him and his cock.

Something flutters in his stomach. Burns in his gut. Soars in his chest.

This is love, isn't it? It must be love, this high he sees looking at your face pressed against his dick like you can't quite believe you're there.

(Finally finally finally fuck - )

He chokes, arching his back and moaning. Wincing his eyes shut to hide how they water.

Satoru's hand grasps at his hips, the other one shoving in - tight, tight, fuck, it burns -

And then it's soft, and wet, and perfect, your lovely mouth opening up around his dick.

Tongue gliding over it like you can lick away years of longing. Savor the fruit of your yearning. Devour him entirely.

He feels like he's melting. Red-hot bursts of pleasure as Satoru pumps into him and you - your eyes - fuck fuck fuck your mouth, warm and melting around his cock until he can't tell where he ends and you begin.

His hand reaches your face before he knows it. Cupping your cheek.

What face is he making right now? He can't think about it, can't think about anything but him inside your mouth and your face in his hand.

You lean into it, eyes half-fluttering, blissful, sucking and drooling around him.

That's what gets him. His cock pulses, and throbs, and he doesn't have a moment to warn you, but you swallow around him anyways. Suckling as you pull away, glancing up at his face.

A drop of his cum gets on your mouth. Thoughtlessly, his thumb swipes it away, but it lingers on your lower lip. His eyes linger, too.

Something twists in his chest.

He doesn't know what does it. If it's that moment of vulnerability, all the soft, tender parts exposed that he has to lash out to protect. Or if being able to finally touch you has unfettered something cruel and wild inside him.

Or maybe it's just the sick, twisted desire to win. To watch you cave in on yourself from the hunger, starved until you become just as willing to draw blood as he is.

But Suguru knows he says it with an awful, mean smile.

"You can add on Slut used for both holes to that, too," He snarks, his hand moving back to cup your cheek.

Soft, so soft. Face crumpling at his touch. Fighting not to show it.

"You sure seemed to enjoy it," You say. Heart on sleeve.

He wants to rip it apart. Ribcage open, heart bare and beating.

"Gojo's better, of course," He strokes your cheek in mock affection, "But it'd be unfair to compare you to him. He's special."

Thumb over the twitch in your cheek.

(Won't you bare your fangs? Won't you bite? Tear in?

If you won't, then he will.)

"I've never had anyone like Satoru. He always knows just what to do... maybe he's a born slut," Suguru chuckles, low, feeling your cheeks heat against his fingertips, "Or maybe he just knows me that well. Loves me that much."

He can feel it, he thinks. Your poor trembling heart, your face growing hard like armor.

What are you thinking now? I love you, too? I'd love you even more? I've loved you longer, forever, how can you not see -

"Sure he loves you," You bite out, "He loves your dick."

You're hungry, so hungry. Starved of his affection. And he's dangling it in front of you now -

So why won't you bite?

Satoru's not entirely sure how it got to this point.

Suguru, tied to a chair, arms strapped down. The vibrator - the one he'd sabotaged so many times - strapped to his dick, all swollen and purple and dribbling pitifully in overstimulation.

HIs eyes are red-rimmed, bloodshot. Sweat in a sheen over his broad shoulders. Lips in a thin line as he struggles not to make a sound.

He's so handsome, even like this. Maybe more like this, Satoru thinks, and then buries the thought deep as if to hide it from Suguru's ravenous gaze.

(He thinks he knows anyways. Suguru always knows, knows everything. Satoru could see things but Suguru understood them.)

It started somewhere with the bindings, he thinks.

A tone of measured challenge in your voice that Suguru couldn't resist.

Suguru thinks he's some kind of director. But you'd baited him with raised stakes, and then offered him an out.

"It's okay if you don't want to. I know you and Satoru aren't there yet in your relationship. If you don't want to do it with me, just say so."

It's not a bluff Suguru could easily call.

Telling you he doesn't want you, they don't want you, would be an outright lie, a hole he doesn't dare dig for himself.

"Do it. Tell me you don't want me. Tell me that and we can stop here."

You offer him your beating heart on a platter, well-disguised. Tone even as you give him the knife and hold if over your chest.

He couldn't call you out. So he had to raise.

Hands behind his back, at first. Then he's tied to a chair.

Satoru makes good use of it. So do you. Hands and mouth and tongue and teeth, everywhere.

Your lips are so soft and yet they sting his skin, dripping venom with every word.

Raise, raise, always raise. As high as you'll take the stakes. He'll never back down.

A vibrator, remote controlled. Satoru getting the chance to hold the camera.

Suguru just barely catches him half-filming while he palms his cock to you grinding against his dick in his lap.

"Do you like it, Suguru~?"

He doesn't know who asked him.

But he knows you're not fucking him yet, you haven't said it yet (that you want him, need him, love him can't live without him say it say it SAY IT ALREADY).

And he can't lose, he can't lose, not to you, not you.

That's when he called for the whip. It's a fine thing, a short flexible band of leather.

And then Satoru had licked his lips, itchy fingers, pulling his shirt over his head, and Suguru realized that if he went ungagged he would ruin everything.

So that was how the gag got into Satoru's mouth. He's drooling on it now.

And the sight of you muzzling Satoru had been enough.

Suguru felt ravenous, vile. He saw an opening and went in, fangs bared.

"Want to make him cry for you??" He taunts, "He's a pretty crier, even prettier when he cums. Maybe you can do with that whip what you couldn't do with your cunt, hm?"

"Shut up or I'm gagging you, too. Turn around, Satoru."

And Satoru bared the pale, flawless expanse of his back to be whipped, had to have his hands smacked away form his cock while Suguru cooed about how pretty he was.

How you asked if he liked it that much. If he was a slut for everyone, or just for the pain. If he'd take anything you would give him -

He's chomping at the bit. Ball gag. His mouth isn't full enough. He wants to taste you.

Satoru's back is burning by the time you shove him onto the floor.

"Unbind me," Suguru had ground out, "I'm so hard - fuck, I want to take him now."

"Too fucking bad. I'm busy -"

"You looks so good all red and whipped, baby." Suguru interrupts, ignoring you completely, "Like you were born for it. Look at me. Look at me."

And Satoru did, making eye contact over his shoulder, past you -

Yeah, Satoru thinks. That's how he got here.

On his still-stinging back beneath you, shirt off, watching you straddle him in all your furious glory.

Knife in your hand. His chest bared as you seethe.

He tries not to pant so hard - it's tough, you're rubbing right up against his dick and this is about the hardest he's been in his life.

"You really are a fucking slut," You say, words dripping over him with your hateful gaze, burning like acid.

Every inch of his is aflame. It's agonizing, it's euphoric - it's like your anger is a part of him. Surging in his veins.

Blade pressed to his skin. Sharp. Beautiful.

You are beauty incarnate, in his eyes. Satoru knows he's never seen anything as beautiful as you are right now.

"Worthless fucking whore, doing whatever you're told," You spit, "Letting your body get carved up for porn. Is this all you're good for, Gojo?"

He blinks, eyes wet. Don't call him that. You can't call him that! Not now!

Satoru knows it. By the touch of your knife on his skin and the touch of your eyes on the knife. Your entire world is narrowed down to this moment where he's letting you do anything to him.

He's so good for you, so still. Looking up at you with his big, beautiful sparking eyes.

All lean muscle and power and strength just lying under you and taking it.

Sure you call him a whore, you must be jealous over Suguru, but he knows you can tell. Just by how he looks at you.

Laying beneath you all docile, stronger than you and delighted to take a knife to the chest from your hands. This is love, you must know love when you see it.

And he feels it, moving, lines drawing over his chest.

Your name. Your NAME.

He feels it, in his chest, literally every stroke of the knife splitting through his skin.

Satoru's eyes tear up, pain and pleasure white-hot and pulsing towards his dick. It's throbbing, desperate.

All he can do is whimper, whine. This is why he was gagged, because even through it, he's chanting.

Fuck, fuck. You're carving your name onto him. Onto his chest, onto his heart.

He fucking feels it, he feels you leaving this mark on him, this mark that can only mean you, he's yours, he's all yours and he always will be.

Looking up at you. Your eyes, feverish, frenzied. Full of him.

Hands bloodied as you guide the knife.

Oh, he tries not to pant. He wouldn't want to mess up your work. He tries not to buck up into you, but it's a lost cause, like his cock has a mind of its own. Like it knows where its home is now.

Skin splitting, blood pooling over his chest. Over his heart.

He feels it leaping out to you. Like it'll flutter right out of his chest.

You want it. You want it so fucking bad, he can see it in your eyes.

His arms itch to take the knife from you. Satoru cries into the gag, fruitlessly, because don't you understand?

Can't you see? He'll cut it out and give it to you, it's all yours!

You can have it!

The words pour out of his eyes, like he can tell you, like you'll understand if only he looks at you long enough.

You have to understand. Of course you do. You're his whole world right now, and he's yours, he can feel it.

Satoru knows it like he knows that satisfaction in your eyes.

You lick the blade clean. It has his dick drooling.

yours. yours yours i'm yours, i've been yours, baby, look at me. you see it. you see how good it feels for me, being yours?

i love it. love you.

Feels like his heart is leaking out of his mouth. Every word he can't say. Useless, dribbling, skin-warm and wasted.

Tears streaking down his face. And he meets your eyes and you can see, he's sure, you can see it -

"Satoru," you choke out, cracking like his name has carved your throat like you've carved his chest. Shifting against him.

Oh, fuck.

Heat bursts in his lower half. Yeah... yeah, he just came from that.

Sucking in air desperately though his nose. Blinking away tears in his eyes. His face is a sticky, wet mess. Abs coated in his own cum.

Ruined beneath you. And you look enraptured.

Fuck. Fucking hell. It's the greatest moment of his life.

He spares a flick of his gaze to Suguru, poor Suguru, all alone on the corner watching.

And it's so easy just to tell him with his eyes. They know each other that well.

This could be you down here. This could be her under you, for all you know she'd let you. You're so fucking determined not to say you want it that you handed this to me.

Some things about Suguru, he really doesn't get.

Oh, well. Finders keepers.

Her name is on my chest forever, now. No matter what she does with you, she'll always have done this with me, first.

You have it. You have what you wanted, now. Finally.

Satoru is underneath you. Suguru is in the corner, fucking watching. Like he's been making you watch your crushes fuck for months on end.

Your handwriting has never been as beautiful as it is on Satoru's pale, perfect skin.

Now it's split by the letters of your name. You don't even feel bad.

He wanted it. Leaned into every inch of the cut.

Those beautiful blue eyes. Looking at you, you, you.

His gorgeous chest red with your name and he's completely transfixed, Finally it's just you, his attention is all on you -

The flick to the corner and you know instantly. Suguru.

It's always him. You can't even have Satoru to yourself for five minutes, and you can't even blame him for it.

Not when you want Suguru, too.

(but you can't have him. you can't have anything you want, not really, can you?)

Your hands are shaking. You don't even notice it. Adrenaline pours through you. Flight or fight.

You look at Satoru's chest. It's really only barely bloodied.

The knife is warm in your hand. It was so easy.

Cut him deeper. Cut him open.

You want to cut his fucking heart out and take it in your hands. Rip up that pretty face. Put out those beautiful gemstone eyes for straying.

Ruin everything you love about him. No one will want him then. Suguru won't want him.

(can you have him then?)

The edge of the knife is against his throat and you're ready to just slide it across his neck -

and -

Satoru is looking up at you again.

(cut him. cut his throat. kill him now. fucking whore, how could he -)

Wide blue eyes sparkling with untamed affection. Lovesick. Adoring.

(it's not for you. this isn't yours and never will be.)

His mouth is gagged but his face just lights up when he sees you, all bright and eager and -

(you love him. you love him so fucking much.)

Suguru calls your name and your heart is burning again -

(you love him. it hurts.)

The knife falls, unbloodied, from your hands.

You get up.

You walk away.

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moonmaiden1996 · 2 days ago

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💯 Sure Sanji has a breeding kink. Deep down he wishes to have the family he never had. 🥺 This boy wants to make many babies with his wife. 👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻

Okay — this ^^^^^^ is 100% canon in my mind, no debate. Sanji absolutely has a breeding kink. Hear me out!

18+ and spoilers

There has to be a reason why our poor baby boy’s mind is always on romance and finding a partner. Sure, he’s a perv (we can all agree on that, no arguments here), but his desperation runs much deeper than that. Sanji doesn’t just want a partner for fleeting moments of passion—he craves family.

From a young age, Sanji was ostracised and mistreated by his own family. His deranged, power-hungry father created a twisted nightmare for him and his siblings, enhancing them for his sick dreams of domination. Sanji wasn’t like them, though. His loving heart and humanity set him apart, and for that, he endured endless cruelty. His brothers mocked him, and his father cast him aside. Worst of all, he bore the guilt of his mother’s sacrifice, despite her unwavering love. That love—pure and selfless—shaped Sanji. It’s in everything he does: the way he cooks, the way he loves, and the way he dreams.

So, let’s be honest. It’s only logical that Sanji wants children, and lots of them. Episode 217, anyone? That man was practically rocking back and forth in glee, imagining the child he could have with Nami.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Fatherhood terrifies him. But still…

Sanji wants you pregnant. And as soon as possible.

He would never admit this outright—no chance. Sanji is far too insecure and mortified to share something so deeply personal. You’re a queen, and he feels unworthy of even thinking about such things, let alone telling you. The truth only tumbles out when he feels completely safe and content… in your arms or buried deep within you.

His hips roll languidly as you writhe beneath him, his eyes fixed on your face, captivated by the pleasure written across it. "That’s… that’s it, my love… mmmhmm," he moans, his fingers finding that bundle of nerves between your legs while his thrusts expertly hit that heavenly little spot inside you.

The way you flutter around him is more powerful than any Haki, and for you, he’d do anything.

"My darling… you look so good…" The words spill out before he can stop them, unfiltered and needy. His balls are heavy, he’s desperate, and you look like an absolute goddess beneath him. The moment he realises what he’s said, his heart sinks. Your sparkling eyes meet his wide, panic-stricken gaze, and he’s already ready to tie himself to a cannonball and sink to the bottom of the sea.

"I’m sorry, my love… I would never—"

But you love him, and you’re just as kinky as he is. "Is that what you really want?"

Sanji is utterly powerless against you. With your velvety walls gripping him so tightly, he can only nod frantically, his usual composure completely gone.

"Then fill me up," you moan, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer.

If he wasn’t already madly in love with you, he certainly is now especially as you milk him for every drop.

Even with the condom the thrill of imagining you full of him is intoxicating. Watching himself leak from you, knowing he’s given you every drop—it’s enough to keep him coming in a state of esctasy. But it’s not just a kink for Sanji; it’s a need. He’s destined to be a dad.

That said, Sanji is practical. He knows the life of a Straw Hat is far too dangerous for you to be safe during pregnancy. So, he’ll make a quiet trip to Chopper to get you a safe and effective contraceptive, ensuring it won’t harm you in any way. Once that’s sorted? All bets are off. This man will pump you full multiple times a day, whispering sweet nothings as he carefully stuffs any stray drops back into your trembling body.

When the time finally comes, when Luffy is King of the Pirates and Sanji has set up his dream restaurant, there will be no more barriers. Before the ribbon is even cut, you’ll be pregnant. But don’t worry—Sanji will treat you like royalty, doting on you and your blossoming family he has time for you and for the restaurant.

By the time he’s done, you’ll have a crew big enough to run the entire restaurant and keep up with Uncle Luffy’s appetite.

So what do you think?

I love all the asks you send me! Please keep them coming—for Sanji or any character. But someone, please, send me something about Corazon next he is adorable. Him and Sanji omg

#one piece #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla #opla x reader

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dalliancekay · 1 day ago

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"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you.”

Joseph Heller, Catch-22

I don't yet know how to explain this... And will probably mess it up. But I think that in fiction, sometimes in life too* and in my case, obviously particularly I'm talking about Good Omens here - people often forget that if something terrible does not happen, that it was going to be fine all along** and the character who was worried about it, was overreacting (being stupid, cowardly, uncool, wimp, sissy etc etc).

It was @seaweednpeanuts who put this idea in my head and now I'm trying to express my thoughts on it.

You know how people tend to joke that Aziraphale and Crowley do nothing in S1 and are completely useless and isn't that hilarious, but aww, we love them anyway, the two idiots etc? Sure, it's funny but it's also not true.

When Aziraphale says:

He doesn't mean - 'we are completely useless'.

He means they messed up as far as it goes for things they were supposed to be doing. And even thought they were doing. They didn't double check they were raising the right baby for example; they perhaps could have (but Adam grew up the best human he could have been - by well.... sheer accident? Fate? God's actual Plan?).

If they weren't both so good and kind and dither so much trying to find other ways to stop the Armageddon (I’m looking at you Aziraphale), they could have found Adam in Tadfield and kill him. And if they were truly with their respective sides... well, it all would have gone very differently too.

That's one thing.

They messed up, sure, as far as big grand Ineffable Plans go and nothing went the way they imagined (or were told) but they still played an important role in bringing the whole Armageddon and War plan down. The point is, that everyone there did. In some way. From Anathema to Adam's dad.

Just because it was fine in the end doesn't mean a real possibility of Armageddon wasn't there. Not unless you want to take away all the agency away from Az and Crowley (which is the eternal debate over an omniscient God anyway).

And it's the same across millennia. Just because Aziraphale is extremely cautious about his words, Crowley's words, their actions and the possibility of them being watched or overheard and punished for working together, doesn't mean that the possibility wasn't always there.

It doesn't even mean that the possibility couldn't still be there.

GIF by @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky

They aren't safe. They've never been safe and there was never anywhere to hide or run to.

And Crowley knows that too.

"You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there," he said. "I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to one up there," said Aziraphale. "Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly. "Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?" "Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-" "I meant afterwards." "Oh."

They have suffered already so much; even if they did manage to keep their Earth jobs and their friendship for over 6000 years. Their existence was always fragile.

Aziraphale gets blamed so very often for how cautious he is.

I hate it when this line gets weaponised against Aziraphale. (Yes, I admit, even in fics.) Because, he has nothing to apologise for. He couldn't have done anything differently. There is no way Crowley could would e v e r blame him for saying no to a date. For never saying out loud how he really felt. What he really wanted.

Those things were impossible. And even though Crowley offered, if you actually watch his face after Aziraphale refuses, he is not angry or bitter or offended (as many metas and posts would have him feel). He's sad and thoughtful. Because Crowley knows exactly how much he is loved and cared for by that refusal.

F15 is so tragic because once again, Aziraphale is reminded they are not free. That they are not safe and they have not been left alone.

And this time

he's truly furious about it.

*Controversial perhaps, but you know all those feel-good posts and quotes about asking people in retirement homes or something what'd they have done differently and what are their biggest regrets and they all say (or at least the published picks say) some sort of - I wish I worked less, tried less hard to make money, spent more time with kids and family etc...

Well those can fuck right off. Because I believe that most people would absolutely want to spend more time with their friends and kids and family and less time at work and constantly worrying about money. But that's not how life works, is it. Just because I was lucky so far and managed to pay all bills somehow, doesn't mean that I can just stop worrying about them, does it. Next time, I'd love to know the places these quotes are coming from. Just because Donald didn't spend time with family and is now dying alone doesn't mean his regrets and have anything to do with Tom on the other side of town who worked 3-4 jobs at a time his whole life and his biggest regret anyway is not trying harder (he couldn't have tried any harder) so his kid wouldn't have to work part-time job while at uni. Donald was always a jerk and his regret should be that he was a jerk and didn't pay his taxes so people could stress less about what happens when they lose a job.

Anyway. Rant over.

I know Aziraphale will win his love and his freedom and his happiness. But that doesn't mean that his worries and his caution and his anxiety were ever unfounded.

** When Gabriel claims that most things are fine in the end, he's not exactly contributing to it, is he. It's Aziraphale's stubbornness and caution that keeps him safe.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens thoughts #fate #free will #anxiety #future #kaypost

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archivewriter1ont · 20 hours ago

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Brief Thoughts on "A Distant Echo"

I actually like that the Bad Batch was so skeptical of Rex's "feeling" about the mission before they got to Purkoll. As the "black ops" experimental team, they've likely seen as much and maybe more of the darkest side of the conflict as he has, the gray areas and the turmoil that comes with choosing, and I feel as though that informed their approach to the assignment. I read a fic on Ao3 (I'll have to try to find it...don't remember the title) that explored that through Crosshair's eyes. He was prepared the entire time to 1) kill this "Echo" character if he had willingly betrayed his brothers or 2) put him out of his misery if he was too far gone. Then the INSTANT he saw Tech cradling Echo and trying to disconnect him from the machine and heard the "reg" cracking jokes about his trauma, our favorite sniper became a snarling, protective watchdog. The last line was along the lines of "If anyone wanted Echo, they'd have to kill the Bad Batch first."

The Batch's perspective changed from "You know, maybe your friend is dead" to "Nope, now he's ours because we can take care of him" because they had evidence now that Echo was not a willing traitor and that he was actually ready to fight to the death to avoid being taken prisoner again. I think this is an example, not of their prejudice against regs in general, but of their competence as a special ops team, their readiness to do what needed to be done to complete the mission no matter what, and finally their willingness to immediately adopt this hurting, broken man who was suddenly thrust into the same kind of different life that they had known since decanting. Crosshair was perfectly willing to goad Rex about leaving Echo for dead but then we see him grabbing Echo's shoulder when they're fighting in the village, holding onto him. Whether you interpret this as Crosshair comforting Echo or "mom-arming" him to keep him from falling (even though he wasn't near the edge) it is still a sign of how quickly the Batch accepted him and I love it to pieces. ❤️

In my own novelization of these four episodes that is still in the works, I'm super excited to flesh this out! We see so much of the Batch's wartime selves that it's almost overwhelming when you look into the details.

#the bad batch #star wars #tcw crosshair #tcw tech #tcw wrecker #tcw rex #tcw #tcw hunter #tcw echo #arc trooper echo #anakin skywalker #a distant echo #thoughts on the episodes

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 2 hours ago

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May I request different first meeting + meet funny? 😘💕💕💕💕

Cos we all deserved some fluff and floof in life heheheehe

Yes, you can! I hope you enjoy this and it makes up for the sad one!

Here be fluff, a different first meeting, and some laughs:

Donut Day was sacred.

This fact had been drilled into Tommy from his very first shift at Harbor. If it was your turn in the rotation, you came to work, donuts in hand. Or else.

Tommy was no fool. He'd never let himself find out what 'or else' was.

When it was his turn for Donut Day, he left two hours early so he could hit Pete's Donuts—arguably the best donut shop in all of L.A.—grab a selection of everyone's favorites, which he had memorized, thank you very much, and still make it to work on time.

Tommy was the king of Donut Day.

Except today—

Today, some guy—some punk kid—was going to cost him his crown.

To be fair, it wasn't entirely the kid's fault. Working an afternoon shift meant stopping by Pete's after the morning rush, but before the lunchtime restock was complete. Tommy thought he'd arrived early enough, but the shelves were looking pretty sad.

Which would have been fine if this guy hadn't made it through the door before him, securing a place in line ahead of Tommy, and seemed intent on buying out the place.

Nevermind, it was all this guy's fault.

Him and his...legs...that seemed to go on for days.

"I'll take that last Oreo one, please," the guy said and Tommy huffed under his breath.

Sorry about your luck, Jenkins. You're going to have to live with your second favorite—

"And that last strawberry shortcake one, too."

"Seriously?" Tommy whispered to himself, cursing his bad luck.

"Ooh, and that last triple chocolate one—"

"Oh, come on!" Tommy exclaimed, the words bursting out before he could stop them. Because really? Even the triple chocolate?

His favorite?

"Dude, what is your problem?" The guy whirled around to glare at him and Tommy felt it like a punch to the chest.

Because the donut thief was gorgeous.

Forget the legs for days and the muscled back and the equally muscled chest and arms—good god, the arms—how could Tommy focus on any of that when he was faced with the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen.

And pouty lips on a mouth that had dropped open ever so slightly as the Donut Day interloper stared back at him.

"My problem?" Tommy asked, tearing his eyes away from the pouty lips back to the beautiful blue eyes that had gone wider when he took a little step closer. "My problem is you're going to get me fired if you keep buying up all the donuts. Or at least have a whole crew of hungry firefighters calling for my head."

He sent the donut thief a rueful smile. "Think you can help a guy out?"

"Y-you're a firefighter?" The guy said and if Tommy thought he was gorgeous before, he'd clearly misunderstood the meaning of the word. The grin that stretched across his face lit it up so brightly, Tommy suddenly understood why moths made such poor life choices.

He took another step closer. Drawn in by the light.

"I'm a firefighter too," the guy exclaimed. His face fell suddenly as he looked between Tommy and the display case of donuts. "It's my turn to bring the donuts too and if I don't bring the right ones, I'll never hear the end of it. Chim really likes those Oreo ones and Hen loves the strawberry shortcake—"

"Wait." Tommy laughed, shaking his head. "Are you at the 118?"

Of all the coincidences...

"Y-yeah, how did you know?" Blue Eyes grinned and this time he took a step closer.

"I used to work there, with Howie and Hen and everyone," Tommy said. He stuck a hand out. "Tommy Kinard."

"B��uh, Evan," Blue Eyes—Evan said. "Evan Buckley."

"Well, Evan Buckley, let's see if we can figure out a donut arrangement that works for everyone, yeah?"

The next ten minutes were spent playfully haggling over their choices—even going so far as to ask the very patient counter employee to cut a few in half. Tommy was pretty sure she'd been Instagramming most of their exchange so he didn't feel too bad about it.

Finally, donut boxes in hand, he and Evan left the shop, both lingering for a moment out on the sidewalk.

Tommy didn't miss the way Evan's eyes lingered over him at the same time. Zeroing in on his chin for some reason.

"That was some pretty good trouble-shooting in there," Tommy began, shaking Evan out of his chin-centric thoughts.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Evan said, shaking his head with a little laugh. "I'm going to get roasted over those donut halves though."

"You won't be the only one," Tommy said. He could already hear Jenkins' voice ranting at him over it.

But more importantly, he could feel the seconds ticking away before he and Evan would be going their separate ways and Tommy—for some reason—really didn't want to let that happen.

"You should give me your number," he heard himself saying. "So we can commiserate later."

"O-okay," Evan said, already digging his phone out of his pocket. "A-and you should give me yours. Tell me how you like the lime and jalapeno donut."

The one he'd talked Tommy into trying even though Tommy had zero tolerance for spice.

He was somehow already a complete pushover for this man.

They entered their numbers into each other's phones and handed them back with little grins.

"I should get going," Tommy said reluctantly, not able to put off the inevitable any longer. "It was really nice to meet you, Evan."

"You too," Evan said. "Tommy."

With one last smile, one last look, Tommy headed down the sidewalk to his truck, Evan leaving in the opposite direction.

Tommy turned back for one last last look and almost blushed at getting caught by Evan as he did it—before he realized Evan caught him because he was doing the exact same thing.

And Evan was definitely blushing.

Well.

How about that?

Despite his little donut thief adventure, Tommy still made it to work in plenty of time. He dropped the donuts off in the kitchen and stepped back as the hungry masses fell upon the boxes.

"Kinard!" Jenkins yelled out a few seconds later. He emerged from the huddle holding up half of an Oreo donut. "What the hell, man?"

"It was for a good cause," Tommy said. "Trust me."

Jenkins kept cranking at him, but Tommy was already tuning him out, attention caught by a new text on his phone.

A message from Evan.

Tommy opened it, chuckling over the picture of a very disgruntled looking Howie and Hen.

They're questioning our choices, the text read.

We'll just have to do better next time, Tommy wrote back.

He chewed on his lip, watching as three bubbles blinked in and out on his screen until finally—

Same time next week?

Can't wait, Tommy replied quickly.

He was going to be doing some heavy editing of the donut rotation for the foreseeable future and everyone was just going to have to deal with it...

Because Tommy had a donut thief to woo.

(This was from this ask game!)

#ask game #asks answered #fun asks #writing exercises #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #tevan fic #kinley #kinley fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #buck x tommy #different first meeting #fluff #humor

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witchygagirlwrites · 15 hours ago

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Broken Bonds-Part 26

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton

Mouse comes home for Halloween. You, him, Jay and Hailey dress up to match Addy as the mystery gang

Otherwise known as I love Halloween so now the Kidd sisters love it too 🤷‍♀️

“I swear if you fidget in your seat one more time, I’m kicking you out the car at fifty one and swearing to Voight I have no clue what happened to you” Kevin threatened and you turned in your seat as far as the seat belt would allow to gasp at him playfully “Kevin! I thought you loved me!” He grinned “I do, that’s why I’d leave you at fifty one, also that’s the only way I know I could kick you out the car without you kicking my ass too so it’s a win win”

You shook your head with a laugh “Sorry but I’m nervous as hell. Mouse’s flight will land about one thursday. First time I’ve seen him since he left then on top of that we’re spending the evening with Jay, trick or treating with Addy” “Wasn’t it his idea and isn’t Upton going as his..” you cut him off by saying “Don’t say date! If you say date they both get blushy and stammering. While it’s adorable I need them both slightly verbal”

He laughed and shook his head “You don’t find it slightly weird that you’re playing matchmaker with your baby’s daddy and someone you've been calling your wifey for the better part of the last year?” “I’m not playing matchmaker, I’m just giving them a neutral place to spend time together outside of work” you offered and he nodded “And giving yourself an out by Jay having someone with him instead of being a fifth wheel with you, Mouse, Stel and Kelly?”

You nodded “That too..Kev..Jay could still hate me and it would be understandable. I did something horrible to him” he started to respond but you held up your hand “You’re nearly as bad as Stella so you lost your privileges to defend me. He glared at you for a second before mumbling “Lost my privileges hell, I’ll call the older sister” you couldn’t help but laugh at your partner threatening to tell on you to your big sister. Like you were kids instead of detectives.

“My point is that man could hate my fucking guts and it would be justifiable. I just want him happy too and if Hailey could be that happy and if by me giving a tiny nudge that happens? Is that a bad thing?” he cut his eyes at you “Oh, am I allowed to answer Miss Kidd?” you rolled your eyes “Don’t be a drama queen Kev”

He shook his head “It’s not a bad thing but I do think you need to remember to take a breath every now and then, ok? For me, partner?” you nodded “Ok”

“What are the costumes?” Hailey was whispering when she came to your desk. You looked around, where everyone was either eating their lunches, gone out to follow leads or just not paying attention “Why are we whispering?”

She laughed “I know you don’t want Jay knowing before and I’m not snitching” you laughed “Just as long as you’re ok sort of matching with me, Mouse, Jay and Addy you have nothing to worry about. Me, you and Babygirl will look great”

She grinned “Oh I’m in just from the sound of it. Me, my wifey and babygirl looking good” you shook your head “Wanna get ready with us? Mouse is getting a hotel room near my place since he hasn’t found a new place yet”

“Why is he getting a room? Did you two argue or something?” she asked and you laughed “God no. I wouldn’t know how to make that man mad enough to actually argue with me” “Then why doesn’t he just stay with you?” she questioned and you shrugged because you didn’t want to explain that Mouse was still trying to make sure he didn’t step on Jay’s toes any and he felt staying under the same roof as Addy this soon would be doing so.

“It’s Jay?” she asked and you shook your head “Yes and no. It’s a respect for Jay thing. We know we hurt him and so towing the line here. Him inviting Mouse home for Halloween was a big thing and we both know that. Baby steps” she smiled and brushed your hair back from your face “You are an amazing woman Y/N Kidd” you grinned “So are you Hailey Upton”

Jay walked up the stairs about that time and groaned playfully “Why are you two constantly touching each other?” Adam’s eyes flew up from his computer “Better question is why are they doing that at work?” “Ruzek!” “Ruz” “Adam!”

You almost felt sorry for him when everyone got onto him at one time. He shrugged, laughing “How did it sound? All of you be honest?” you and Hailey cut your eyes at each other and cracked up laughing. Jay tried and failed to glare at you before he cracked a smile too then shook his head “Christ, get to work! All of you” Hailey raised an eyebrow “Don't boss us around” he looked at her for a second then cut his eyes at you and added “Please?”

“Why doesn't he just stay here?” Stella asked, waving a hand around her place. You’d ended up going over there since it was Jay’s night with Addy. “I think he just doesn’t want to intrude on anyone” you offered and she raised an eyebrow “Other words since he can’t stay at your place since he doesn’t want to step on Jay’s toes with Addy, which is valid and I love him for…you plan to take full advantage of a hotel room and the one and one night thing you two got going on until he flies back out on tuesday?”

“Stella!” you laughed and she shrugged “I am not wrong and you know it honey bee! I don’t just mean sex. I don’t see you missing opportunities to sleep in his arms while you know Addy is safe on the nights she was already gonna be with her daddy”

“Would you miss it if it was Kelly?” you asked and she shook her head, a small smile on her face “It’s about time you and Mouse realize that you are kind of meant to be together. You and Jay are each other’s other halves in an entirely different way. You made an amazing little girl together and you will always have each other's backs but you have owned Greg Gerwitz from the moment that man laid eyes on you and babygirl be honest, he has held your heart too. Even when you honestly tried to give it to Jay. I hope you’re right. I hope Jay and Hailey are looking at each other like you think. I hope he can move on and be happy because he truly deserves to find someone he loves as much as Mouse loves you and as much as you love Mouse. Mouse was willing to walk away if you told him to, that takes a lot”

You smiled “I know. I just..I want Jay happy too because I do love him so damn much and no matter what’s happened I know Mouse has love for him too..I just want us all to move forward” she pulled you over into a hug “We’ll get there. Now, did you find the costumes you wanted?”

You nodded with a grin “Hailey is in” she shook her head “At least my sister in law has her head on straight”

I’m home. Gonna check into my hotel. I love you the text came in at one thirty, just enough time for him to have gotten off the plane and made it to the car rental booth. You smiled and sent back Ok. I love you too. Stella will drop off your costume

He hadn’t questioned the mystery costume. You hoped him and Jay would take them in stride? Addy was going to look stinking adorable so that would soothe anything over at least. You and Kevin were finishing up paperwork on some vandalisms. You just hoped it stayed calm so you, Jay and Hailey could actually make through trick or treating.

“What are you up to tonight Kev?” you asked and he grinned “I got a date with that nurse from med” “Ohh that cute one you were talking to when we rolled that guy in for stitches last week that got tossed out the window?” you asked and he laughed “The one you tossed out the window you mean? Yeah, same nurse”

Adam and Kim were going to Mollys which was where Kelly and Stella were gonna head after trick or treating. You and Stella both had always loved Halloween, with Addy it was just looking a little different this year.

_____________________

Hailey was laughing while you and her turned in front of the mirror. “You look absolutely gorgeous as Daphne Hails!” the costume you picked her might as well have been custom made to her measurements. The purple looked beautiful with her hair and the two of you had decided to go with boots to match your costumes instead of heels since you would be doing a lot of walking.

She slipped an arm around your waist and leaned her head over on your shoulder “Well I'm suddenly getting all the Daphne was in love with Velma theories cause miss Kidd I'm tempted to ask you to run away with me and Addy before Mouse and Jay can get here”

You shook your head with a laugh, smoothing the skirt “It's not too short since I'll be carrying a baby half the night?” She shook her head “No, it's fine. You have tights on under it, plus Jay will want to carry her some too and my arms are always open to her”

“Thank you Hailey” you told her with a smile and she nodded “Now, come here and take a selfie with your wife before your boyfriend and baby daddy gets here” You scrunched up your nose “That sounds so bad” she laughed “I promise I didn't mean it like that?”

_________________

Jay was considering just keeping his jacket on the entire night. He loved you, he had agreed to letting you pick costumes, Hailey was even coming and neck deep in the matching costumes but this was ridiculous.

Fred Jones, freaking Fred Jones. Honestly he was looking forward to seeing Addy as Scooby-Doo because he knew that was where this was headed as soon as Stella dropped his costume off but why had he let you pick?

He parked in front of your apartment, next to your jeep and was trying to work up the nerve to be in public wearing something so damn ridiculous when he saw another car pull up on the other side of your jeep. He leaned up to see it was Mouse and dear god..he cracked up laughing. He thought he got the bad end of the deal. You'd made Mouse dress up as Shaggy.

Jay got out of the truck as Mouse was locking his rental “She got you too huh man?” Mouse turned towards him with a slight smile “I mean…if Addy is Scooby-Doo she needs the whole gang doesn't she?”

Jay nodded “Yeah, I guess she does. I wonder what her and Hailey looks like” Mouse laughed “Yeah she bragged she was bringing her wife along for trick or treating” “Those two, I'm starting to think are actually going to run off! They're always touching!” Jay laughed and it only got harder when Mouse's eyebrows shot up and he asked “Touching how?”

The two walked up to your door and knocked. Hailey answered after a moment and Jay's jaw dropped. Ok, maybe the costumes weren't so bad after all. She looked fucking heavenly as Daphne Blake. Her bright blue eyes shining as she smiled up at him “Well hello Freddy”

He heard Mouse chuckle lightly behind him “Well that makes sense”

___________________

You could hear Hailey talking to Jay and Mouse as you got Addy into her costume “Baby girl! Daddy is here!” You told her and she giggled.

You scooped her up onto your hip and walked into the living room. All three sets of eyes turned you. “Scooby-Doo is ready to go” Jay grinned and held his arms out “Can I?” You nodded “Of course” and passed her over.

You cut your eyes at Mouse and he was already looking at you “Hey shaggy” he grinned “Hey Velms” Hailey shook her head “Let's get going. Who's riding with who?”

You shrugged “um Jay are you good with babygirl riding with me and Mouse in my jeep?” He gave you a look before saying “No, I automatically assume just because Mouse is here you're gonna stop being an amazing mother to our daughter, cmon sweetheart don't be like that”

You smiled at him “Ok then Mouse and Addy with me, Hails you with Jay?” She nodded “Good with me” “Then mystery gang let's get ready to roll”

You grabbed your keys, phone and jacket and Hailey grabbed your hand then winked at Mouse “Nope, I'm walking her out” Jay shook his head and hit Mouse's shoulder with his free hand “Get used to it. Hailey has had her eyes on Y/N for months”

Mouse just grinned at you before telling Jay “Well Freddy let's walk Scooby-Doo out to the jeep then”

Walking out with Hailey's fingers laced with yours, seeing Jay carrying Addy and Mouse walking next to him? It made your heart flip. Could this all work out? Could you be happy and Jay be happy? Could he and Mouse find their way back to being friends again?

Addy’s giggles as she played with the chain of Jay’s pendant pulled a smile to your face. You hit the unlock on your jeep and Mouse stepped up to open the side door so Jay could lean in to buckle Addy in.

Hailey raised your hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it “Till later Velms” you grinned when you realized both of the guys were now staring at the two of you so you turned your hands so you could kiss the back of hers “Till later Ms Blake”

Jay cut his eyes at Mouse and to your surprise an honest to god grin slipped on both of their faces. Was it halloween magic or just Addy being right there that was working on the two of them?

Jay cleared his throat “Um Daphne are you coming with me or am I stuck with Shaggy while you and Velma run off?” Hailey winked at you “We’re undecided but I guess I’m coming with you” Jay closed Addy’s door then headed for his truck.

You walked around to the driver’s seat of your jeep while Mouse got in the passenger seat. After you both buckled up and you waited on Jay to back up you backed out of your space and pulled out onto the road behind him. Addy was attempting to sing along with the radio from the sounds she was making and Mouse was finding it adorable. “She already sings better than you sweetheart” he teased and you slapped his thigh lightly “Don’t be a jerk Gerwitz” he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently “Never love”

You glanced at him when you got to a red light “I’m really glad you’re here” He smiled “I’m glad I’m here too, even if me and Jay look freaking ridiculous while you and Hailey are gonna have every man we pass drooling” you shook your head as the light turned green and you turned your attention back to the road “Is that jealousy I detect in your tone there Greg?”

He grinned “Just a bit because I haven’t seen you in weeks and you look amazing” “Baby I’m dressed as Velma” he nodded “Every tech geek’s first crush” you felt your face warm. Leave it up to him to always find a way to do that. He glanced over his shoulder at Addy “And she is the absolute cutest thing I have ever seen in her scooby doo outfit. Where did you get these?”

You grinned “Kelly knew a woman, he rescued her mom..she cut me a deal” he nodded “Using family favors detective Kidd..have you been in Voight’s unit too long?” you laughed “I dunno, maybe? I am doing some backhanded sneaky stuff trying to kinda push Jay and Hailey into their mutual crush”

He shook his head “Honestly? I don’t think you’re pushing anything. I saw how he looked at her when she opened the door. You’re not picking up on anything that isn’t there. She was looking at him the same way” you squeezed his hand that was still holding yours before taking your hand back “I love you, I haven’t gotten a chance to say that yet” he smiled “I love you too”

The plan was to meet Stella and Kelly at the station house. They had a small festival going on there then some trick or treating then you would take Addy home so everyone else could go out, or well everyone but Mouse he’d go back to his hotel.

You parked your jeep and Jay parked next to you. “What are Stella and Kelly dressed as?” Mouse asked and you grinned “Hades and Persephone” he shook his head “Only the Kidd women” “You must love the Kidd women” he winked at you “Why wouldn’t I?”

______________

You heard Stella before you saw her “MY NIECE IS THE CUTEST!” Jay grinned as she came running up “Look baby, it’s your crazy aunt Stel who is dressed as a…greek god? “ she nodded “Good eye Halstead” then she looked over all of you “You all look stinking adorable. I gotta get pictures”

“Stel” Jay groaned and you shook your head at him “No sir, it is her first halloween! We show up and show out for our daughter. Isn’t that right?” he met your eyes then nodded “Ok” Stella smiled “Ok, Jay you’re already holding Addy so Y/N tuck in next to Jay so Addy is between you two…Mouse get on her other side and Hailey get on Jay’s other side…If all of you don’t smile I swear I will get Addy then spray the four of you down with the hose”

Her threat alone was enough to crack all of you up. She snapped probably half a dozen photos or more before nodding “Those are perfect! The best mystery gang I’ve ever seen. Three hot detectives, a good looking marshal and the most adorable baby that ever walked”

You shook your head “Now can we enjoy halloween Stella Bella?” she grinned and reached for your arm “Of course Honeybee..grab your wife..boys take Addy to the face paint station and play nice we will return..” you looked at Jay “Are you three good?” he nodded “We’re fine sweetheart” “Yeah you and Hailey have fun” Mouse assured you.

_________________

Jay and Mouse were told to behave not that they had to talk.Mouse did ask for Jay’s phone so he could take photos of him and Addy while Jay held her to get her face painted and he appreciated that. They then went in search of you, Hailey and Stella.

“I know her and Stel haven’t changed so I gather now they just grab Hailey and run too?” Mouse asked and he nodded “Should’ve seen on the fourth of July. You know that permanent bracelet Y/N has?” “Yeah?” Mouse replied and Jay laughed lightly “Hailey convinced me she’d bought only her one to mark her with” Mouse laughed “So she’s been trying to get Y/N?” “They call each other wife even when we’re in the field. Over the coms!” Jay explained, shaking his head.

Mouse was quiet for a moment, gently playing with Addy’s hand since she’d reached out for his “Jay, I’m sorry. I should’ve faced you sooner..man to man. I had no right to do that as quickly as I did and I hate knowing you were hurt because of it. You’ve been good to Y/N..amazing really and you are the best father I have ever seen”

Jay met his eyes and nodded “I’m sorry too Greg. We’re a long way from what we were but her and Y/N are too important to hold onto the anger. I know how much you love her, how much you’ve always loved her and she never lied to me about what you mean to her. We keep moving forward for them both, deal?” “Deal” Mouse agreed with a small nod.

__________________

You weren’t sure what happened between Jay and Mouse or what was said but the air between them somehow felt easier to breathe? You were walking between Jay and Mouse as you went to the next place to trick or treat. Hailey was on Jay’s other side and you noticed just their first fingers were intertwined and felt your heart skip. Two of your best friends were falling for each other.

Addy was starting to doze off on Jay’s shoulder so you nudged him “Um daddy?” he glanced down and laughed “I think Scooby may have just crashed out on us” her little head was burrowed into the bend of his neck and you dug your phone out and snapped a picture “That is too cute” Hailey grinned “Will you send me that one?” you nodded “Of course. Stel sent you the group ones too”

___________________

You were buckling Addy in when you heard Jay step up behind you so you looked over your shoulder up at him “Yes dear?” he grinned “Did you and Mouse want to go out since he has to fly back to Georgia on tuesday?” you shook your head “No, I was just gonna go home with babygirl unless you just wanted her tonight? I figured you and Hailey may want to go to Mollys or something”

A light blush crept up his neck and he nodded “I’ll get Addy tomorrow night and let him know it’s not stepping on my toes..if he’s with you and means it that he’s staying this time that means he’s gonna be in her life” “Thank you Jay” you replied and he smiled “I’m sorry for being so angry with you..it’s just you’re the only one who’s ever stayed and when you told me what happened with him..”

“You thought I’d leave too” you finished and he nodded. You leaned up to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug that he returned fully. “Jay I love you. You are my absolute best friend on this earth. You have seen me through some of my worst days and some of my best. We share a daughter, we’re partners for life honey. Nothing or no one will cause me to leave you” you pulled back and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “Now, go buy my wife a drink from me and show her a good time”

He nodded “Yes ma’am” then leaned into the open door and kissed Addy on top of her head since she was sleeping “Goodnight baby” he whispered then closed the door however gently he could and it still seal considering it was a jeep.

Once him and Hailey headed for his truck Mouse stepped over next to you and slipped his hand into yours “Have I mentioned how amazing you are?” you laughed “Not in the last half hour plus I haven’t gotten a single kiss. I’m feeling unloved” he laughed and turned to pull you into his arms.

“I love you” he spoke before brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, lips lingering against yours and damn him he grinned when he pulled away and you unconsciously chased his lips “Later sweetheart. We gotta get little miss back to your place so you can get her changed and in bed” you nodded “I know, I love you too by the way” then walked around to get in the driver’s seat while he got in the passenger seat.

@desimarie12

@alexisquinnlee-bc

@nevaehstreater18

@allisonargent144

#greg mouse gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz drabble #greg gerwitz x reader #greg mouse gerwitz #mouse gerwitz x reader #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic #greggerwitz x reader

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faithfullyfound · 8 months ago

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Don't Put God On Hold

Recently I've felt far from God. I feel like my testimony is a series of highs and lows. Moments when I'm full of the Holy Spirit and moments when I'm full of my flesh. Recently I've been very worried about what college life will entail. I'm worried that I will fall victim to sin or that I'll miss out on "college milestones" as a result of my being a Christian. I'm worried I'll be labeled as weird prudish or even judgemental. However, it is silly to be worried about things that have not even happened. As I began to be worried I stopped reading my Bible, began listening to sinful music again, and giving in to my other common sins.

Despite all of this God was still close by. He hadn't left. I kept seeing reels about Jesus. I kept hearing those around me at Church spread the Gospel. And I kept wishing to feel the love and peace I felt when my heart was on fire.

Today it was through reading Colossians 1:13-20 that I saw the centrality of Christ not only in my life but in the universe and existence itself.

13 For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. 15 The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16 For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 19 For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

Christ has never left me ever since I committed myself to Him. I know that I am overburdened by my worries and that I often am lazy when it comes to my faith. I tend to not read my Bible for weeks and then go crazy reading scripture and repeat. This cycle occurs because I continue to give in to the same sins. The same fears. The same sadness. By pushing Him to the back I've pushed myself over the edge. God is my strength. For HE IS THE BEGINNING. HE IS MY BEGINNING AND ENDING AND EVERYTHING. I cannot live without Him. My time away from Him (evident in my absence in positing) has shown me that even when I'm far from God I'm still thirsting after him because he is the only one who satisfies.

Colossians 1:9-12 is a prayer for spiritual strength, knowledge, and wisdom of God. I pray this over myself and over every one of you who reads this. Know that God loves you and once you commit to Him even in your worst times He is just waiting for the moment for you to reach out to Him.

9 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, 10 so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, 11 being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, 12 and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.

#my brother or sister in christ God loves you always #everlasting love #jesus #christian faith #christianity #christian girl #bible study #faith in jesus #christian blog #jesus saves #bible #christian art #He will come to find you even when you think you are too far gone

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acourtofquestions · 3 months ago

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Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

#Chapter 23 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Elide Lochan #Finnula #no spoilers pls first read along w me chapter spoilers in post & tags below w more annotations/quotes/notes/reacts/perspective 3 of 4 #The City of Rivers… can Aelin get a City of Fire? cuz that would be cool & Elide already said “fear was another companion it can’t be worse #IT WAS LORCANS SHIRT😭 & he cared so much he lied so she’d use it from Gavriel/Rowan😭 OH ELORCAN😭😭😭#Yet this place seemed like a paradise. WHATS REAL? is it a Maeve illusion… but it sounds lovely; like Rowan could just fly around😭#Pink and blue flowers draped from windowsills; little canals wended between some of the streets ferrying people in bright long boats.#And though a good dose of fear would aid in her cover too much would spell her doom. -smart clever spy gal Annabeth Chase would be proud #And this city Rowan had told Elide had been built from stone to keep Brannon or any of his descendants from razing it to the ground.#when u know ur evil cuz you had to build in a backup plan for the day Brannons peeps eventually come to shut that shit down… my poor Aelin #Elide fought the limp that grew with each step farther into the city--farther away from Gavriel's magic… or Lorcan’s👀😭🖤🤨#okay Elide I see your mirror mirror Aos moves with the berry listen and compact trick she can do it with a broken heart #cycle. She hadn't been able to find the words anyway. Not with what it would crumple in her chest to even think them. WELL NOW IM CRUMPLED #As if she'd been weeping for weeks… yeah that fits the KoA vibes #But it wasn't the reflection she wanted to see. But rather the square behind her. — BRILLIANT QUEEN — lol thx Lorcan for having a mirror #if only anything could be a witch mirror then they could all cell chat and communicate cause the travel time in this one is rough #she was merely staring into a compact mirror no more than a self-conscious girl trying to fix her frazzled appearance — she is the best spy #A girl trying to muster some dignity. Let them see what they wanted to see-A girl far out of her element in this lovely well-dressed city #cornflower blue ALWAYS THESE SHADES #her golden-brown skin shone with an inner light. Her eyes were soft with kindness. And concern.#had always made them foolishly off guard and eager to get away. To tell her what she needed to know. — funny 2 watch Elide do this after HoF #The sort of voice Elide had always imagined great beauties possessing the sort of voice that made men fall all over themselves.#Cairn. One of the males swore; the other scanned Elide from head to toe. But the two females had gone still. — agreed he’s the worst #the portrait of hope—yeah child’s right cause no—Elide always naming people—If you escaped Cairn don't go looking for him again.—true #Cairn is blood-sworn to our queen. Still makes him a prick TRUTH — doesn’t need to be a far to catch the lie — WHERE IS SHE DAMNIT #She was about to do it again wheen… The dark-haired beauty from the tavern was standing behind her. — SHIT #Maeve was not in Doranelle. How long would that remain true? Had to make the next performance count. — how many had she done this already?🥹😭

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my-thoughts-and-junk · 8 months ago

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reading dungeon meshi

#random thoughts #it has the kind of plot i hate where you retread the same plot point repeatedly while making progress elsewhere #like hi falin bye falin #like i cared about them finding falin. then they found her. and now she's gone again.#i don't like marcille but in like. a compelling way. she's my favorite archetype of character who is specifically female for some reason?#lady who thinks her way is the right way and she's morally right and therefore everyone else is wrong #high conscientiousness with low openness to experience. see themselves as agreeable dutiful and restrained while not being any of that #they tend to take on moralistic causes but they usually don't have a defined reason for WHY they're doing it so it just comes off as preachy #and the narrative tends to take their side with no basis in why #like when marcille tried to prove herself with the mandrakes and put everyone in danger and senshi conceded he was ALSO in the wrong???#and even marcille was like 'that wasn't my point at all'#that entire chapter made me mad it was so good #it's also doing that thing i hate when a piece of media introduces too many characters at once #like who's who what's what who is important who should i remember #i love the detail put into the cooking sessions!!!#i love how all the characters are so fucked up and not even in plot-important ways #like chilchuck's cowardice is very important to the plot but senshi was straight-up willing to let a man die for his flavorful cooking lmao #laios is. my man. i need him carnally.#i get that the whole 'got eaten by dragon' thing was not meant to be the Whole Plot but i feel like the background plot is just not my thing #either that or it wasn't set up in a compelling enough way?#idk. im still reading #all in all i think dungeon meshi might just not be my thing? plot-wise i mean. i love the characters and the general premise #of monster biology and environmentalism and cooking and augh #i don't like how everytime senshi corrects marcille on something so far he ends up going 'i guess i also need to learn a thing or two'#like on the mandrakes? the man has FIELD EXPERIENCE he was entirely in the right to prefer his method!!!#and on the environment thing? first of all marcille's whole thing is building artificial dungeons she SHOULD care about the food chain #SECOND OF ALL telling marcille she shouldn't kill so many fishmen isn't playing GOD or whatever #that kraken was a fucking. extenuating circumstance. it was literally there just to make marcille's argument credible #animals killing each other through the food chain is different from marcille using what is essentially a rocket launcher #god i ran out of tags. peace and luv bruvs 🤟 kind of have a hate crush on marcille now. need her

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sugoroo · 3 months ago

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ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, obsessive behaviour, pervy geto, stalking, penetration (p in v), doggystyle, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, hints of yandere, 18+ minors dni.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who notices you the moment you first attend one of his classes, immediately singling you out among the small group of his regulars laying down their mats.

he's never seen someone so young and pretty in his studio before — most of his customers were married middle-aged women old enough to be his mother. but not you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who takes a very keen interest in you from that very first session, his sharp gaze never leaving you for long each time you come in. to his dismay, however, you always take the spot right at the back of the room, meaning he has to crane his neck around all of the gossiping older ladies to get a good look at you. hmm, that won't do.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who keeps you behind one day after a class, subtly suggesting that you move closer to the front so he can 'get a clearer look' at your progress. and if you catch on to the real reason he wants you closer, you don't say anything; so he assumes you bought the excuse. perfect.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who, once you begin working right at the front, gets more and more handsy as time goes on. what began as just a light brush of his fingers to improve your positioning turns into him fully grasping your hips to manoeuvre your body the way he wants.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who isn't oblivious to the jealous looks cast in your direction from the other women when he does this. he just pays them no mind; he's not interested in them, after all. only you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with you after each session, talking yoga instructor!gojo's ear off about how pretty you are and how utterly delicious the arch of your back is when he gets everyone to do the downward dog stretch.

his friend laughs but reminds him that it's strictly against the rules of the yoga studio to get involved with a customer (as if he cares about such trivial things like that.)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts insisting on you staying behind after every single class, claiming it would be good for you to have some one-on-one sessions with him to hone your skills. when you don't protest, he thinks you must either be completely clueless or into him just as much as he is you. he really hopes it's the latter.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who uses these private classes to get you to do various risqué positions for him that definitely aren't real yoga stretches. but what you don't know can't hurt you, right?

pervy yoga instructor!geto whose mood becomes sour once you stop attending his sessions. had he gone too far? did you think he was a creep? he didn't even care if you filed a report about him for his behaviour at this point — as long as it meant he got to see you at the subsequent meeting.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who only lasts a few weeks before he's rifling through the customer files in his office, yanking out your folder and scanning the page.

once he finds your address, he's in his car and on the way there, breaking every speed limit on the way. and before he even knows it, he's outside your house, peeking in through the window.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who spots you curled up on your couch, crying softly in front of the television while spooning ice cream into your pretty mouth. and suddenly, all his previous anger is replaced with concern. he hasn't even formed an excuse to explain why he's here before he's knocking on the door.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who hurriedly tells you that "it's company policy to check on customers who haven't attended sessions for a certain amount of time", mentally patting himself on the back when you seem to buy it and let him into your apartment.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who listens intently as you spill all the details about your cheating asshole of a boyfriend. so that's why you've been absent. but don't worry — he can make you forget all about that worthless scum. after all, he didn't deserve you anyway!

suguru could treat you so much better. and he will, if you let him.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who kisses your tears away, hushing you softly and whispering in your ear about how beautiful you are and how he's had his eye on you since you first entered his studio. (he leaves out the part where he's fucked his fist to the thought of you in those tight little yoga pants countless times. he doesn't want to scare you off!)

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by running his hands over your perfect body he's been imagining touching just like this for so long, burying his head between your soft thighs and eating you out like it's his last meal until you're all nice and gushy.

he only stops when your tears of sadness turn into those of pleasure, until you're practically begging him to fuck you.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who starts by fucking you nice and slow on your couch in missionary, praising you over and over in that silken purr of his like you deserve. but soon enough he's flipping your body around, putting you in the yoga position that you always do the best for him; downward dog, ruthlessly rutting his fat cock into you from behind like an animal.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who has to use all of his willpower to make sure you cum on his cock first before he lets go himself, despite the fact he could've busted a nut the second he eased into your warm, tight little pussy.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who watches in silent satisfaction as his goopy cum oozes out of your abused cunt, quickly fingering it right back inside to make sure not a single drop goes to waste. "it's all for you, sweet baby." he murmurs, voice raspy and deep.

pervy yoga instructor!geto who effortlessly carries your exhausted body to your bedroom bridal style, cooing in your ear the entire way about how you're his now, and he's going to take such good care of you, his favourite girl.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

NEXT PART -> pervy lifeguard!gojo

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gojonanami · 5 months ago

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❝ 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! ❞

❝ THEY TOOK YOU. SO SATORU GOJO DID THE ONLY REASONABLE THING — HE TOOK THEIR LIVES ! ❞

✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken and found hurt, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, acts of violence, reader gets kidnapped and attacked, gojo goes insane, gojo clan sucks, higher ups get asses best, yaga and Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing,

✧ w/c: 8,446

The worst mistake Satoru Gojo ever made that morning was to get out of bed.

If he had just stayed in bed that morning, turned his cellphone on silent, and basked in the warmth of the soft comforter you had picked out (even as you balked at the exorbitant price) and especially in the warmth of your embrace — the one place where it felt as if it was okay to be himself, just him.

And now it was just him.

Because you were gone.

When his phone rang that morning, your lips had been against his, indulging in a lazy morning tryst because for once, Satoru had been off duty — or he was supposed to be off duty. Your gaze had been the ones to stir him from sleep, as even in the embrace of sleep he couldn’t resist you or your adoring eyes — the very same he held more precious than his own.

“I didn’t even say anything, how did you wake up?” And his lips curl at your slight frown, his fingers brushing over the curve of your cheek.

“Thought my pretty wife was admiring my beauty while I slept so I had to wake up to the same,” and he’s leaning over to press lazy kisses along your jaw.

“Did you just call yourself beautiful?” You snort, and he grins, before falling into a playful pout.

“My own wife doesn’t think her husband’s beautiful?” And you’re rolling your eyes, before rolling over on top of him, your body only covered by the black t-shirt you had stolen from him last night, a small groan as he felt your very bare thighs brush against his boxers.

You were a goddess — your smile ethereal in the sunlight streaming in from the window as you leaned over him, and he was willing to worship all his life at your altar, if you would only give him a brush of your lips.

“Of course I think you’re beautiful, I’m the one always saying that anyway,” your lips brush his chastely, far too quick and teasing, “I was just imagining what Nanami would say if he heard that,”

“Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

“He would say the size of your ego is becoming a threat to Earth’s atmosphere,” and Satoru raises an eyebrow.

“And my darling wife would disagree, right?” and you look away, biting back a smile, “eh? You’d let him say such heinous things about me?”

“It’s not heinous if it’s true—“ you gasp, and he’s flipped you on your back, pressing his lips to yours to swallow your words, along with your giggles, as you break free, “Toru! Ah—“ and he nibbles at your neck, “hey!”

“You have to pay for the consequences of your actions, baby, what kind of sensei would I be?” And you’re rolling your eyes.

“I’m not your student, ngh,” you’re gasping as his teeth sinks into your neck, “if anything, I’m the one reigning you in,”

“Well then,” he chuckled in his words, as his fingers trace your jaw, “I’ll have to show you how far your student has come then,” and his lips only brush yours, when his phone rings.

“Baby,” you sigh, and he’s glancing at the phone, a sigh on his lips, as he reaches for the phone, sneaking a glance at you, before he picks up.

You press sweet kisses to his chest as you hear the faint murmur of Yaga’s voice through the phone, hearing reports of the special grades they’ve been tracking, “Old man, this is the first day off I’ve taken off in so looooong,” and he holds the phone away from his ear until Yaga’s screams fade, “fine, fine, send Ijichi,” he hangs up while Yaga was still mid-yell, tossing his phone on the bedside table with a sigh, “sweetheart,”

“I know,” you cup his cheek, his lips in a pout not made for the strongest sorcerer, but for your Satoru, “I’ll be here when you come back — waiting very impatiently,” and he chuckles, his lips finding yours.

“How’d I get so lucky to have such an understanding wife?” And your lips curl.

“You annoyed her into falling in love,” and he gapes at you as you giggle, until he’s got you pinned underneath him yet again, “what? It’s true!”

“Then I’ll have to annoy you some more, just to make sure,” and he’s finding you in another kiss, until his devilish fingers run down your sides, beginning their assault on the spots that made you laugh the most.

You pulled your lips from his, squealing, “Nooooo! Satoru, stop!” you tried to push him off from tickling you, but he was the strongest for a reason—a reason you usually were very grateful for, but not right now. And finally he relented, as you gasped and chuckled still, lips in the most adorable pout, “you’ll pay for that,”

“Oh really? How’s that, wifey?” and you kiss his lips chastely, barely a brush, as you cross your arms, fighting back a smile.

“That’s the only goodbye kiss you get,” and he gasps, clutching his chest dramatically, before that smirk of his returns, “and you try to steal one and I’m making you sleep on the couch,” And he pouts, before you press a longer kiss to his lips, “you’re lucky I love you,”

Satoru grinned, “I know.”’

Yeah, he should have never gotten out of bed.

“Where is she?” For once, Satoru’s words were devoid of humor, the laughter and happiness sapped from his very essence the moment he had heard. The moment he had felt your cursed energy waver. All this time, Satoru’s eyes had been focused on the outline of your soul, no matter where he was, because you were always the one thing he wanted to come home to — that he needed to.

“I don’t know Satoru, that’s why I had called you,” Yaga runs his fingers through his hair, “goddamnit,” he swore, scrubbing a hand down his face, “the mission came from the higher ups, they wouldn’t give me the specifics, but they said it was confidential—“

“I don’t care for the details right now, do we know anything about where she is?” Satoru keeps his words carefully measured, muscles wound taut, the only thing keeping him from using blue to destroy Jujutsu Tech in one fell swoop was the thought of you, “did she tell you anything else—“

And Ijichi bursts in, brow furrowed, “Gojo, we have a lead.”

~~~

Was this how it would end?

You knew it was in your fate to die, eventually. A wretched cycle that all of you were forced to live. An endless baton pass that always ended with the last runner dying — nothing but a pile of corpses left behind and to look back on.

And it would almost be a relief, a blessing to finally be done — if it wasn’t for Satoru.

You knew he would blame himself for this. He always blamed himself. Blamed himself when he couldn’t beat Toji. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Riko. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Geto. Because he was the strongest, and that meant he should be able to solve everyone’s problems — do everything no one else can do, be everywhere at once, and never fail.

Never. And yet, that’s not what the sleepless nights he spent working told you. It only told you that jujutsu would take everything from him, if he let it, and he would let it, if only that meant he could do more good.

And he was so good. Even if he didn’t see it — you could almost feel the lingering warmth of his embrace this morning, the wide grin on his lips as he peppered kisses down your neck, and the soft gaze of blues made of affection just for you — you would always see it for him.

You don’t see the curse coming, your vision blurred from the last strike. The crack of your bones barely registers in your ears, the curse presses you into the wall, claws pressed to your throat, drawing blood to run down your neck.

“Now, now, we can’t kill her, at least not yet,” a voice calls out, “we were given strict orders to wait,”

The curse’s growl reverberated across your skin, a desperate growl deep in its chest, the string of control being pulled taut, as its black nails dig deeper into your side, until it dropped you onto the ground like a rag doll.

Your body ached only for moments before it was chased away by numbness. And you could only wonder if this was how they felt? Riko, Haibara, Geto, all the others you watched die — was this the pain they felt? The ache of muscles that they could no longer feel, the sticky wetness of blood that seeped from their unknowing bodies, and the cold thst crept up from the tips of your toes.

You wanted it to stop. You wanted to stop. But each time you felt the tug of the other side, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t. Not when Satoru needed you.

Your eyes burn with tears. And you needed him.

~~~

“Where is she?” The same question was ringing in Satoru’s head over and over since he had heard.

Candle wicks trembled with fear, casting shadows on the wall that shivered in the presence of the man before them. The papered panels was all that stood between him and these old men — the very same that played with the lives of many day in and day out. It would be far too easy to kill them all — in fact, it would barely take any effort at all with his cursed technique.

But he wouldn’t allow them the warm embrace of an instant death.

“Such insolence — how dare you enter this place and speak—“

“You ought to be thanking me,” his power sparked in the glint of his eyes, the glow of the lit wicks catching in the hard blues, “for not bashing your skulls in and ripping your hearts from your chests from the moment I entered,”

A silence swept over the room, another voice speaking, “Gojo—“

“The next words out of your mouth better be an answer because I don’t want to ask again,” his voice fills the silence in the room, only broken by the sounds of the candles crackle, “where is she?”

“We cannot disclose where—“ there’s a loud crack, the splintering of wood and the wet squelch of flesh and blood, and a cold breeze swept through the room, the candles going out.

Satoru’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of his neck, forcing the broken floorboards digging into his wrinkled skin, “I said I want an answer, do you think I would think twice about killing any of you?”

There’s a pause and the silence is only filled by the sound of gore dripping down the paper screens and hitting the floor.

“The only reason I haven’t yet was there was no point to it — no meaning,” and he could see you this morning, his lips curled for you, a strangled choking noise leaving his throat as the pads of his fingers squeezed around his neck, “but now I have every reason to, so tell me before I lose my patience,”

A silence fills the room again, until one of them speaks, “Let him go, and we’ll tell you.”

~~~

“Who do you work for?” the words come out strangled, your fingers bunching up your soaked fabric and pressing it to the gash on your stomach, “why did you bring me here?” You force yourself not to give them the satisfaction of a flinch.

“Do you really think it would be that simple to get me to reveal the reason, jujutsu sorcerer?” you hear a distant laugh, “we have our reasons, isn’t that simple enough? Or rather—”

His footsteps clapped against the floor, your head wrenched upwards, as a small yelp escapes your lips, “does it matter when you’re going to die either way?”

And you grit your teeth, before spitting on his face, half blood, half saliva, “At least I don’t have to live a life as pathetic as yours,” his fingers squeeze at your chin, your jaw aching under his grasp.

“Pathetic?” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt before, throwing you to the floor, body screaming in pain, but you refuse to show weakness, even as tears burn at your tear ducts, “And yet, I’m not the one bloodied and battered and two inches from death, bitch,” he scoffs, muttering, “I can see why they ordered us to kill you now, who would want someone like you around?”

“Now I’m listening, who gave you those orders?” Another voice says from behind him. The man freezes, while you lift your head, a small smile on your lips, “are you hard of hearing or just plain stupid? Well, I don’t really need to even ask that, do I?”

He was shrouded in shadow, but you didn’t need to see him to know it was him — especially as he tugged his blindfold down with two fingers, blue eyes devoid of any humor or joy, and instead only with hatred.

“Satoru Gojo,” the voice left the man’s lips slowly, but before he could react, the special grade curse that had held you was barreling towards him in a moment, before Satoru held it at bay with his infinity, the other curses following suit — how many did this curse user have in the room with him? Three? No more like five or six, but even so — you scoffed under your breath, it wouldn’t matter, “No, you idiots! Don’t—”

And in a moment, they are eviscerated — held back by his infinity, deep seeded growls and roars leaving their lips, “c’mon now, is this the best you can do? I was expecting more from those bold enough to take my wife, but I guess I expected too much,” he sighs, before he lifts one hand, “Cursed Technique Amplification, Blue,”

You barely can make out the screams from one another, the splatter of their essence raining down from above, until you hear footsteps rushing towards you, and you’re hauled to your feet, pressed against the cursed user, his hand around your neck.

“One more move, and I break her neck,” Satoru landed below with ease, his gaze raised until he met yours, and you saw it soften for you — a silent question of ‘are you okay?’ and your nod and a forced smile that told him you were okay enough.

“You can try,” his words were slow and measured, just as his steps towards you were, “but I don’t think you understand who you are dealing with,”

He tensed, fingers digging into your neck, “I know perfectly well who you are, Satoru Gojo, and I am not afraid to die by your hand for this,”

Satoru’s lips curled, “I wasn’t talking about me,”

The kidnapper’s eyes narrowed, “What?”

And you jabbed at his knee, the bone splintering under your force, but you barely hear the snap or his scream because of the blood roaring in your ears. You don’t spare a second before slamming your other hand into his head, nose breaking from your fist, blood splattering across your arm. You ready yourself for another move, before you felt him ripped away from you, a strong arm around you to steady you.

“It’s okay, I got you, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Satoru murmured, soft words meant to soothe you, as his body envelops your tense muscles, until you finally relax into his arms. Your eyes burned with tears, as you looked up at him, before your eyes slid to the kidnapper, Satoru’s hand around his throat.

“I knew you’d come for me, Toru,” you whispered, grasping onto the front of his jacket, “I knew you would,”

“I always will,” and his eyes turned to the man, voice even, “should I kill him once I’m done questioning him?”

You know he means it.

“I don’t know,” you reply, fingers curling as you pressed your face against his chest, “but I don’t want you to have blood on your hands, not for me,”

“It wouldn’t be for you. It would be for me,” he says softly, “but we can discuss it later,” and then others began to flood the scene, the sights and sounds feeling distant as your eyes drooped with exhaustion.

“Satoru, I’m—“ your voice broke, “I really tried—“

“Shh, you did great,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head, as you finally succumbed to exhaustion, slumping over in his arms, “I’ll handle the rest.”

~~~

“You all must be wondering why I called this meeting,” Satoru said, standing at the head of the Gojo clan’s meeting room. It had been long since he had stood as the head, but far too short for his liking. He had discarded this part of his life as soon as he could, joining Jujutsu Tech without a second of hesitation, and continued to run the operations of his clan as an adult, behind the scenes.

But it seems he was too lax.

It had been a few weeks since the incident. You were asleep for a good day in and out while Shoko worked on you. She came out of your room, pulling off the surgical cap off her head, and Satoru got to his feet, as Shoko removed her gloves and mask, “She’s fine, Satoru,” and he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“How bad was it?” he asks, and she tilts her head, hands slipping into her pockets.

“Are you asking that to know how badly she was injured or so you can do worse to whoever did this?” Satoru shrugs, lips parting and she holds up a hand, “never mind, the less I know, the better,” she grabs your file and opens it, “most of her injuries related to cursed technique burn out — it seems whoever took her used curse spirits to attack her, she mentioned when she was conscious briefly that they didn’t control the curses, but they seemed to be able to work with them somehow,”

“More intelligent curses have been appearing since Yuji became Sukuna’s vessel,” Satoru murmured, but this wasn’t related to the asparagus special grade or volcano head. It was separate — it was personal.

“But all of this to take a first grade sorcerer, why?” and he shakes his head.

“It wasn’t for her — it was for me,” and that’s why they hadn’t killed you, “is she awake?”

Shoko sighed, “She should be waking up in a bit. She didn’t need much aside from some RCT treatment and stitches for the wounds she sustained,” she places a hand on his shoulder, “go see her, and try not to murder anyone until she wakes up,” she turns to leave, heels clicking.

“Wait,” Satoru stops her, and she pauses, “I need a favor.”

~~~

Satoru never liked hospitals. He hadn’t spent much time in them for actual injuries, because of his abilities. However, he spent far too much time inside medical facilities for the Gojo clan’s required medical check-ups. It was to ensure the future head’s health, he was told, but really, it was an excuse to make sure their cash cow would still give them milk.

Because that’s all he ever was — a pawn.

But he had long shed that role, tossed it from the board, when he had left for Jujutsu Tech. But even so, he lingered outside your room, some things still stuck. Especially when he had new memories — of seeing his comrades dead bodies laid on cold metal slabs.

And would you have been another if he hadn’t made it in time?

Satoru shakes his head of his thoughts, and opens the door. You were still asleep. Tucked into the hospital bed, you looked so small somehow, fragile — two things he never saw you as. How could he have? When you were the one on his first day to greet him and then slap him when he had something pretentious or childish (neither of you remembered but you had insisted it was one or the other).

And he had never let you go after that. But now…he couldn’t even hold you.

The sharp beeps of the machine monitoring your vitals, connected by the tubes and wires that ran all over your body. He reaches for his blindfold so he can look at you, really look at you, but he can’t. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into the soft of his palms,

But you were alive. You were alive. You were alive.

That’s what he had to tell himself as he drew closer to your side — no matter how you looked now, you were okay. And that’s what was most important.

“Are you going to brood by my bedside all day?” his gaze snaps to you, your eyes fluttering open still, still drooping and exhausted, but a soft smile on your lips, “Because hospitals are depressing enough, Toru,”

He chuckles, forcing his tears back and his voice to be event, “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot to pull out the stops for you this time,” and his fingers find yours, lacing as they always did, but they felt so cold, “next time I’ll bring confetti, balloons, streamers, and I’ll serenade you even—”

You snort, “You may be the best at everything, but I know you’ll sing offkey on purpose just to piss off Shoko or anyone else that visits me,” and he laughs shakily, a sigh stuck in his throat.

He presses his forehead to yours, “I love you, so much, y’know that, yeah?”

“I love you too, so much, Toru,” you cup his cheeks, turning your head to press your lips to his hand, “thank you for saving me,”

“You saved yourself, I just cleaned up a little,” his lips find yours in a soft kiss, and your brow furrowed, “what? Are my kissing skills that bad?”

You roll your eyes, “No, but are you okay?” and he scoffs softly, shaking his head.

“You’re the one who got kidnapped and hurt, and you’re asking me if I’m—”

“Satoru, you asked me if you should murder that guy,” you tilted your head, “I know you’re not against killing if it’s necessary or deserved, but the way you said it, I got worried,”

“I’m fine, I just—” he cut off, “I just need to figure out who did this,” you squeeze his hand, “I have to,”

“Satoru—“

“I know you’re okay, but you don’t know how afraid I was that you wouldn’t be—“ he cuts off, “and it’s not just that,” his fingers curl around yours tighter, “it’s not just us we’ll have to worry about in the future. We’re already a family, but what will happen if someone targets you and our future kids?” He takes a shaky breath at the thought,

“I have to make an example.”

Your gaze grows sad, pressing a kiss to his lips, if only to ground him for a moment, “I know,” but you frown all the same, “but promise me, you won’t do anything stupid, ok?”

But he was far from stupid — but the people before him were as close as anyone could get.

“You all are aware of my wife’s attack a few weeks ago,” he said in measured words, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m here to tell you that she has succumbed to her wounds,” his voice wavered, breaking, “she’s gone,”

There were whispers and murmurs that swept over the room, all were silenced by the lift of a hand — one of the Gojo Clan elders, the geezer leader as he liked to call him.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru,” he said, lips twisted in a fake frown, “we heard that your beloved wife passed from her injuries a week ago,”

“And yet, I see you’ve brought someone for me to meet,” his eyes slide to the woman dressed for a wedding rather than a meeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The woman’s painted lips kept in a neutral expression, her body so rigid he could have mistaken her as a statue if not for his six eyes, and her eyes refused to meet his.

“Satoru, I understand you are mourning, but we have to think of the future of the Gojo clan, and our future place in the Jujutsu world is only as secure as the next heir—“

“And so you thought to disrespect my wife by trying to marry your choice?” but their brows furrow as he begins to laugh, one that sends shivers down their backs.

The elders all gape at him, sharing looks, before turning back to him as his laughter finally settles into a quiet chuckle, “Satoru, what is this?”

“It’s funny that you ever thought I’d fall for this bullshit,” he pulls off his sunglasses, cerulean eyes gleaming in the low light, “did you know my wife was never supposed to be sent on this mission? Or rather, there were no reports of cursed spirits in the area, but yet, orders came for her to report to where she was,”

A hush falls over the group, “And why are you telling us this?”

“Because I think you all have forgotten your place,” in a blink, he’s grasping the neck of the elder, the very same man who had taken him away from his parents at the age of two to ensure his training was done properly, “I am the strongest, not the Gojo clan. I’m the only Gojo needed for the clan to be prosperous,”

“You insolent child—“ Satoru squeezes around his neck, gasps and whimpers clawing their way out from his grip, veins bulging as he tried and failed to pull Satoru’s hands off. He had even let the old man penetrate his infinity and all he had managed was a scratch or two.

“You should be careful when you’re talking to the ‘child’ who has your life in his hands,” and he grows silent, “now, to get back to the point, where did those orders come from?”

A quiet washed over the room, the only sounds were the shaky gasps of the elder in his hand, “W-what are—“

“I had a chat with the higher ups — those rotten old geezers may not like me, but I know they like all their limbs intact,” he drops the elder and twists his arm behind his back, wrenching back until he heard a cracking noise, “and they told me the orders came from the Gojo clan, and I wondered why would my own clan send the wife of the head off to be executed,”

“Satoru—“ one of the elders spoke, and he tilted his head.

“If you want him to die, your excuses will only make this go faster,” and his mouth shuts, “I’ll take your silence as a confirmation that all of you had a hand in this,” he sighs, removing his sunglasses, running his fingers through his hair, “man, I’ve had conspiracies against me, but I never guessed you’d target the one person I value above everything else. But I knew you would fail her little test,”

He’s met with furrowed brows and gritted teeth, the elder looking up at him in fear, “W-what?”

“You see if I had it my way, I would have killed you all, no questions asked,” his fingers close over the top of his head, wrenching him backwards to meet his gaze, “But my wife, my very much alive wife,” he adds, with a glance to the woman looking increasingly faint with each second that passes, “she would want me to see if you’d come clean about the plan and whether some of you were innocent,” his lips curl, “but she doesn’t know the bloody history of the Gojo clan like we do,” and his fingers dig into the flesh of the elder, “so what’s a few more bloodstains?”

He tears off his head, screams ringing out as a rush of scarlet paints the walls, splattering across the other elders. The woman offered to be his wife rings over the others, her shrill shriek piercing their eardrums. It’s a dull thud as the lifeless corpse falls to the floor, as Satoru wiped the blood from his cheek, a cock of his head and eyes flashing with anger.

“You can’t do this! You—“ Satoru’s fist connects with his face, blood flooding his features.

“I can, because I’ve decided the Gojo clan needs to get rid of the tumors that infect it, and besides,” his body crumples to the floor as his foot slams into their stomach, a sick, wet noise that draws gasps and open mouthed silent screams from the others, “what are you going to do about it?”

“Please, please, she’s alive—” one of them begged, all of them falling to their knees, wrinkled faces contorted in fear, blown out eyes and faces wet with tears only making them more ugly than he thought was possible — he really couldn’t end up like these geezers, “we only wanted what was best—we wanted the next head of the clan to be even more powerful than you are—”

He laughs, not an ounce of mirth or levity, shivers running down the spines of the others who watched, as he stepped over the body of the elder, lips twisted into a wide grin, “And there’s your mistake,”

He loomed over the one who spoke, shadow cast over him, as his fingers curled around his arm, before breaking it off, spurts of blood splattering on his clothes, mixing with the other — some of it flecked across his face.

Satoru wiped his face with his forearm, tilting his head. He knew they were begging and pleading — lips moving, words forming, but it all fell on deaf ears. After all they had never bothered to listen to any sorcerer before, did they? Suguru’s face came to mind — flashes of the spring he would never get back — so why should he listen to theirs?

“You were too busy worrying about the next head, when you should’ve been worried about the current one.”

~~~~

You were asleep.

Moonlight gave way to your features in the pitch black room, your soft breaths warming his fingers that ran over your cheek. Shoko had discharged you yesterday, and he had brought you home — but even now with you home, he couldn’t sleep. It felt as if you’d disappear the moment he took his eyes off you, slipping from his grasp just as you almost did.

But you didn’t. You’re here.

It was the same words you had whispered to him every night when he had curled up beside you, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m here, aren’t I?”

But you could disappear.

You could if he wasn’t there with you — if he wasn’t fast enough. Because he couldn’t be everywhere at once, not even the strongest could accomplish that. But he wanted to keep you safe all the same. Would it be selfish to lock you up? Hide you away somewhere others could never find you? Keep you hidden if only to keep you safe.

But you never would be safe, not while you were with him.

“Toru?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, eyes fluttering open to meet his as your fingers reach for his cheek, “is that blood?”

And he’s pinned your hands in a blink of an eye, quickly and quietly, “it’s not mine,” his gaze glows in the dark, catching the moonlight streaming in, and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Toru, what happened?” And he kisses along your cheekbones, your jaw, your nose, your chin, “Satoru—“

“I killed them,” his fingers trace the folds of the satin robe he had helped you into, brushing against the bandages that hid your wounds from his sight, but he could see them all the same, “the people who did this,”

Your brow furrows, “Toru, what do you mean the people who—“

“Why do you stay with me?” He leans down to find your lips in a bruising kiss, lips sliding against yours as his fingers undo the knot of your robe, letting the fabric fall away from your bare body.

“What—“ his lips part from yours, strings of spit connecting your mouths.

“Why do you stay with me when I’m a monster?” and your eyes soften.

“You’re not—“ and he’s cutting you off with another kiss, as your hands struggle under his grip, the other grazing down your side, finding the swell of your hip only to squeeze.

“I’m the perfect weapon,” he kisses down the side of your neck, teeth grazing against your soft flesh harshly, drawing a gasp from your lips, “I could have killed them all, because I know they all knew—“

“Knew what?”

“My clan elders — they wanted to have you die on a mission, they wanted to stage it, so they could have me marry who they wanted,” he pauses, drawing a finger down the valley of your breasts, “create a perfect heir,”

“Satoru—“

He kisses you again, swallowing your words along with your thoughts, parting only to speak, “so I killed them, I didn’t use my cursed technique, I wanted them to feel the pain they gave you, wanted them to feel a fraction of what you did,”

You can’t find a second to speak, his fingers now sliding up your bare leg, as he presses himself closer, erection against your inner thigh, “Toru, you didn’t have to put yourself through that—“

“I wanted to,” he parts your thighs easily, large palm spread against your inner thigh, fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “wanted to tear them to shreds for what they did to you — and what they wanted to do—”

“I’m okay, Satoru, I’m—” a bitter laugh leaves his throat, as his fingers find your bandages again.

“Do you call coming home half dead okay now by jujutsu sorcerer standards?” he shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair, “I told you after Suguru that I would fix this rotten jujutsu world,” he presses kisses up your thigh, “and their deaths did fix one thing — no sorcerer will touch you or our future children again, especially when they speak to the woman the clan wanted to marry off to when your body wasn’t even cold yet,”

“You left her,” and he nods, eyes unable to meet yours.

“I only killed the elders I gathered, anyone else was spared — they didn’t dig their own graves,” his hand loosens around your wrists and you reach for his cheek, cupping his cheek, despite the blood, “I don’t regret it, I’d kill anyone who hurts you, but I didn’t want you to see me like this,”

“Like what?”

“Like a monster,” and you click your tongue, his eyes flitting to yours.

“You’re my Satoru, not a monster, you did what you did to protect me, protect our family,” you murmur, “that’s just about the most Satoru thing you could do,”

“But—“

“And if you are deemed a monster anyway?” You lean up, fingers smearing the blood against your own cheek, “then I’ll just become a monster with you,”

He crashes into you with a kiss, cupping your cheeks, as his tongue slips into your mouth, “can you really be a monster, sweetheart?”

He drags his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your soft flesh along the hollow of your throat, “T-Toru—“ and his lips find the swell of your breasts, his tongue dragging over your pert nipple, while his fingers hook into the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, “y’know I can be, I would be, for you,”

He peers up through half lidded eyelids, his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, “I can’t imagine someone so sweet like you as one,” he murmurs, as he pulls back, lips slick with spit, as he drags his fingers toying with the soaked fabric of your panties, “and I wouldn’t want to drag you down with me,”

Your fingers reach forward, propping yourself up on your other arm, “Drag me or not,” you cup his chin, “you’re stuck with me,”

“Can we make it a binding vow?” you roll your eyes, and his lips curl for the first time since he’s got here, “c’mon sweets, I have to get my reassurance somehow,”

You hold up the giant rock on your finger, the very diamond you had told Satoru was too much, “this wasn’t enough—” the last word is a bite back gasp, as he noses at the drenched crotch of your underwear, a deep inhale that has you squirming, “No, Toru—” but he’s pinned your thighs down, prying them open, as he gazes up at you.

“Uh-uh, princess, I don’t remember saying you could move, especially when you could reopen your wounds,” his nose bumps against your clothed clit, a wicked smile as he drags his tongue over the already wet fabric, “you still haven’t seen how much of a monster I can be.”

~~~

“Ngh, Toru, can’t, I can’t—” but you can — you know you can from the heat building in your sloppy cunt under already soaked through sheets, and he knows too well you can too, from the way your pussy flutters around his three fingers, knuckle deep as they piston in and out, while his mouth toys with your abused clit, “please—”

You lost track of how many times you had orgasmed — his fingers, his mouth, and sometimes both — he had pulled each one after the other, allowing small reprieves, only to bury himself back in. He had even had you ride his face at one point, and you were sure he’d suffocate under your drenched cunt, until he flipped you on your back again.

“Please what, sweets?” he slows his fingers, curling them a certain way that makes your lips fall open, “you’ll have to use your words,” he pulls back.

Chest heaving, chin glistening with your release, his tongue cleaned his lips off before he wiped the rest off, before pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. And soon enough, his fingers were sinking back into your messy pussy, splitting you open with his thick fingers.

“Didn’t you say you wanted this, sweetheart?” his words cut through the wet squelch of his digits fucking you open, “wanted to drag you down with you, wanted this—” and he sucks hard at your clit, tongue flicking over it, making your back arch, “wanted me to drag you down with me,” and he punctuates it with a thrust of his fingers, brushing against a spot that has you seeing spots, “gotta make good on your promise, and I have to erase all the pain they gave you,”

And you barely manage to latch onto the desperation in his voice, the way the facade flickers.

He fucks you ever so slightly deeper, and you cum hard, tearing through you as your body tenses, pleasure washing over you as it did every single other time, melding into the others, “Good girl,” he murmurs, as he works his fingers through your orgasm, the slick noises becoming white noise, until he finally pulls the digits from inside you.

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his digits clean one by one of your cum, his lips curled in a soft smile as they meet your gaze, his hand sliding up your thigh gently as it quaked, the very same fingers he had used to murder the people that hurt you, were so gentle when it was you — he was always so gentle when it was you.

But never himself.

You reach up for him, palm cupping his cheek, while the other finds his bare shoulder — clothes long discarded, “I love you,” and the cracks spread, spider webbing from the epicenter, “you know that right?”

His words seem caught in the back of his throat, “Even now?”

“Especially now,” and he’s pressing you against the mattress again, your thighs folded against your chest, legs slung over his shoulders, “you saved me,”

His gaze softened, “you saved me first,” and again and again, he couldn’t count the number of times you did, by just existing, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh, “but if I’m too late next time?”

“You can’t be everywhere,” your fingers lace with his, “and I just need you,” and still in this situation, his ego can inflate at your praise — nosing at your thigh, a deep inhale, before dragging his tongue up the side of your leg, “only you.”

He drags his weeping erection over your soaked folds, leaking tip teasing your slit while he watched his pre mix with yours, “Think you need more than just me,” and when he lets the tip sink into you, your lips part with his name, just as your walls part for him, “want something else, wifey?”

“You’re the worst,” you look up at him, lips curling despite your pout, your fingers grasping at the sheets under you, as your cunt tries to swallow him whole, “Toru, how long are you going to tease me for?”

And he’s pulling out only to draw a groan from your lips, “If you’re such a monster, thought you could take it—“ and your hand reaches for him, tugging him close by his neck.

“I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now—“

He grins, “If you insist,”

Fuck.

He sinks into you all at once, all too fast and all too slow, balls deep as he bottoms out inside you, your walls fluttering only to pull him deeper, “fuck,” your head falls back as his tip brushes against your cervix, “too fucking big, I swear if you rip my stitches open—”

“You don’t think I cleared this before I decided to do this, baby?” He grunts, glancing down to see how your messy hole stretched open as he sunk into you, “can’t believe anyone thought I’d fuck anyone but you — you’re the only one for me, sweetheart,”

You couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicker to your pussy stuffed full with his huge dick, “You talking to me or my cunt—“ and he begins to fuck you, remark undercut by the moan that he pulled from your lips, “f-fucker—“

“That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” the lewd sounds of skin slapping together filled the room, his soft grunts and your moans, “wanted me to fuck you open, yeah?” and he wanted this, needed this after this week — it had been too long since he felt you under him like this — real and alive, his name leaving your swollen, kiss bitten lips.

And you needed it just the same — needed his fingers to dig into the softness of your thighs, needed the way only he could fill every inch of you, needed the soft murmurs of how good you felt, how much he loved you.

“Fuck, Toru, so fast,” you whine, but how could slow down he when you felt so good — so wet and warm, you had joked he could cum just looking at you alone barely a fist around his dick, but it was true — and being inside you just made him unravel completely, all sense of himself lost and drowning in just you, “hngh, it’s so deep,” you babble, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

“That’s right, sweetheart, gonna fuck you deep, gotta make sure you feel it don’t I?” he coos, and his hand snakes between your thighs, pressing his palm to the bulge in your stomach, making you gasp as your walls clench around him, drawing a grunt from his lips, “that’s it, good girl,”

You keen at his praise, the wet squelch of your cunt around his cock ringing in your ears, balls slapping against your pussy with a rhythm that echoes in your head, as your body arches into him, needing him deeper, harder, faster. He’s nearly rutting into you, his thrusts growing shallow as you clamp down on him, achingly close.

“Those old fucking geezers don’t know what they were talking about—“ he grunts, running his mouth all the same even as he sunk impossibly fucking deeper, “don’t know this is the only cunt I’d ever breed. The only one I’d ever breed. The only one I can. Know why?” And you only can whimper, as his fingers rub against your clit, “because this is the only one made for my cum,”

And his words push you over the edge, cumming hard and fast, head lolling back, as his tip bullies your womb, as he fucks you hard over and over through your orgasm, sending pleasure ripping up your spine. Satoru groans as he feels you spasm, soaking in him in your juices, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his dick, dripping onto the clean sheets with the evidence of your arousal.

He can’t hold back.

He rails into you, a moan of your name falling past your lips making you pull him close, shifting your legs around his back just so he can sink into you even a centimeter deeper—

“Fuck, g’nna cum,” he’s meeting your glazed over eyes, knowing “gonna fill you up, yeah? Get you nice and round with my baby,” he groans at the thought, the image of you carrying his kid, stomach swollen as you grow his child, “and they’ll know, all of them, that you’re the only one I’d cum in,” and he’s so close, dick twitching as your arms around his neck tug him close.

“Cum in me, Toru, give me our baby,” and that’s it, he’s spilling inside you, spurting his hot release inside, again and again, as he fucks it deeper, filling you up.

“That’s it, take every drop,” he’s relentless, until he finally eases from you, his release trickling out. A soft sigh parts your lips that grows into a sharp gasp as he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach.

“Toru—” you whine.

“Aw did you think we were done sweetheart?” a pillow cushions your still bandaged stomach, placed underneath to support you, a shudder down your body as he rubs his cock against you, as he leans down, hot words murmured against your ear with a grin, before he sinks back into you with one thrust, stuffing his spilling cum back inside, “One thing about monsters are that we also have monstrous stamina.”

~~~

It was early, but Satoru was already awake.

He always had trouble sleeping, but now? His eyes found your sleeping form beside him, under the covers and safe, just as he had left you that morning. He didn’t know if he’d ever sleep more than three hours now. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your cheek, but you needed sleep — one of three things you never could live without (food and himself being the other two). And you definitely needed it now, after he had kept you up — nearly all night.

You shifted in your sleep, revealing several blooming hickies and love bites he had littered your body with, lips curling at the sight, as he pulled the blanket back up around you.

He was selfish — he should have divorced you the moment he had gotten you back. Let you leave because it was the right thing to do — to let you live a life safe without him. But he couldn’t — because he couldn’t imagine waking another morning, spending another day without knowing where you were, how you were doing.

It was selfish. But you let him be — especially when it came to you.

And his phone vibrates on the nightstand, whirring again and again, as he picks it up with a sigh, Yaga’s name flashing on the display. He takes one last glance at you before slipping from bed, stepping into the living room.

“Sensei! To what—“ he hardly gets a word out before screams fill his ears. He rubs his chin, it was too early for this.

He makes out the words — Gojo clan, dead, scandal, murder (wasn’t sure if he meant if he was going to murder Gojo or he meant what happened to the elders).

“It was a clan dispute, there was no need to tell you,”

Satoru held the phone away from his ear, Yaga’s yelling told him everything he needed to know, “Yeah, yeah, I know, the higher ups know — or they probably do by now,” he almost chuckles at the thought, and how he would love to do the same to them — knuckles white as he grips his phone — love to make them feel the same pain the sorcerers cared nothing for felt, make them—

Arms curl around him from behind and he knows it’s you, his body relaxing into your touch with practiced ease, your face buried in his back. His fingers relax, finding yours, tracing over the back, as he lifts one hand to his lips.

—But it wasn’t the time for that.

“Fine, fine, no need to have a heart attack, old man — I’ll talk to them tomorrow,” Yaga was still speaking until Satoru hung up, turning to face yoy, your eyes half closed as his fingers found your cheek, “what are you doing awake, sweets?”

His lips curl as you lean into his touch, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up,” you murmur, nose brushing against his fingers as your eyes flutter open and closed, “how am I supposed to sleep when my pretty husband isn’t next to me?”

“Just pretty?” and you snort, as his arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you to his chest, your head right over his heart, a content sigh on your lips.

“Are you ever serious?”

“Always,” and you smile up at him, chin resting against him, “what is it? Do I got something on my face?”

“You think our baby will have your pretty face?” You hum, and his gaze softens at the thought, “I hope so,”

He grins, “You do huh? And here I thought my ego didn’t need more stroking,”

“It doesn’t, but my husband deserves every bit of praise he gets — because he doesn’t get enough,” you kiss him softly, nose bumping against his.

“You planning on showering me with your praise, sweetheart?” And your lips finds his again.

“Always,” and he’s leading you back towards the bedroom, “where are you—“ you squeal as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to bed, gently placing you down, a grin on his lips.

He drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “Do you think I’m gonna let you leave this bed without breeding you right?” He clicks his tongue, “I’m far from done with you, wifey,”

You’re so beautiful, hair spread on the pillow like a halo, “So we’re not leaving until I’m pregnant?” Your fingers brush against his cheek, “we might be here a while,”

Satoru wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

He kisses you again, long and languid, “There’s nothing I want more than to stay in bed with you.”

✧ a/n: sorry i've been gone for a bit!! i got super busy with work and got hella writer's block and right when i was feeling ready to write-- i got sick. but i'm doing much better now!!

✧ taglist: @arrivedercis, @ssetsuka, @ch3rryistheg, @satorusmochis, @sunarins-bae, @blindbabycadder , @yihona-san06 , @dantaku , @archieballs , @ceruleansol , @mqcht , @xxemmarldxx , @chiyokoemilia , @theshylittleelfgirl , @rroseselavyyy , @out4thenight , @jatyes , @unreliablefangs , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @celestialseasart , @minsified , @akemfs , @ranatherealestsigma , @zherryxtar , @virtualangelllllll , @itsmebien , @difluenza , @rougebrainsludge , @mochigod , @euphorism , @vii-is-free , @elliesndg , @beneaththelamina , @monarch-of-anime-simping , @hhimetsu , @simply-a-s1mp , @jennieclips , @svt-backup , @angelbunsx , @duhhitsmiranda , @satowooo , @fushitoru , @lesaurita , @briluvslee , @gojo-gets-me-wetter , @catsgomurp , @pinkyvomit , @hyori2 , @wakashudou , @celestialgojo , @sxnkuna, @nakariabnrb, @dazailover1900, @hanlay, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @kxouri, @forest-fruits-jam, @spider-fan72, @strawmariee

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #Jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo

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alexiroflife · 6 months ago

Text

jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...

"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)

you're fucked.

you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.

you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.

this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.

especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.

damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.

you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-

"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.

you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?

you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.

you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.

"babyyy!"

you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.

you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.

"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.

"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"

"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"

"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.

"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"

"nah, I waited for you, toru."

"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."

you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.

he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.

"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"

fucking hell, damn those six eyes.

you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."

"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"

you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.

satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.

"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.

satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."

you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."

"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"

"yeah... why?"

"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."

why the hell does he want to move around so much?!

"um- why can't we just order here?"

a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.

you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"

gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."

"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"

"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."

"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"

"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"

you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."

"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."

"why do you want me to stand?"

"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."

"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.

"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."

"no."

"no?!"

"no, i don't want to."

"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.

"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.

"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"

"nothing."

"then stand up."

"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."

"i will if you tell me what's wrong."

"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.

he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.

his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"

you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.

"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"

"satoru, you're being dramatic."

"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"

"it's fine, relax."

"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."

you frown. "But-"

"Now."

you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.

satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."

"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."

"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"

"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."

"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."

"i get it, toru," you frown.

"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."

your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.

"there's that pretty smile."

"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."

"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."

"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"

"forget the mission."

"...satoru, i can't just-"

"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."

"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."

"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."

"but you're you."

"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"

"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."

"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."

"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."

"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."

you pout slightly. "I love you too."

"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."

"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.

"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."

he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"

you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."

"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"

"...i wanted it to go away."

"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"

"i wanted to get into bed!"

satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"

"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."

"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.

"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."

"toru-"

"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."

"satoru!"

but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.

suguru geto: (cold!)

shit.

you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.

something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.

you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.

how can you be sick of all things?

you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.

you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.

you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.

suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.

and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.

"hello?"

"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.

"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."

"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."

you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"

"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."

"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"

"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.

"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"

"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."

suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.

"suguru? you there?" you finally say.

"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"

"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"

"(Y/n)."

"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."

"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"

"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.

"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."

suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."

you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."

"okay. I'll see you in a bit."

after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.

you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.

you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.

just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.

we miss you :(

you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.

you miss having a life.

you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.

the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.

he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.

when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.

"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.

you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.

"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.

"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"

"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.

"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."

"suguru..."

"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."

"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.

"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."

"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."

"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"

his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.

"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."

"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."

"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."

"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."

"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"

"b-because, I have to..."

"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."

"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"

"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."

your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.

"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."

you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.

"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."

your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."

"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.

you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."

"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.

"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.

"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.

"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."

"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."

you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."

"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."

kento nanami: (low iron!)

you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.

it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.

you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.

it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.

perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.

you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.

what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.

and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.

"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"

you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.

god, why can't you just be normal?

you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.

you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.

you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.

you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.

but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.

you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.

"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.

you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.

kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.

"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"

you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.

"oh shit," you whisper.

"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"

"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."

"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."

"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."

"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"

you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.

"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"

and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.

"...i'm not sure what you're-"

"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."

your heart drops. "kento..."

"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."

the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."

"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"

"i know," you mutter.

"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"

you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.

"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."

"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.

"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."

"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.

the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"

"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."

"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."

"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."

nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."

"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."

"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."

"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."

nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."

"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."

"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."

"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."

"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."

"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.

"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."

"i know."

"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."

"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."

"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"

you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."

"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."

you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"

you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."

he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."

choso kamo: (broken finger!)

it had fully been an accident.

you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.

it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.

you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.

but you hadn't.

the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.

"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"

you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.

for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.

and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.

you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.

you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.

one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.

and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.

he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.

so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.

that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.

"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"

"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.

"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"

"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."

"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"

"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."

"who told you about my fingers, love?"

"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."

"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."

"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"

"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."

"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.

"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."

"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.

"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."

you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."

"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."

"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."

"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.

"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"

"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."

"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.

"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."

"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.

his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.

"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."

"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"

"cho, it'll be okay."

"that wasn't my question."

you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."

"right. sorry," he murmurs.

"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."

"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"

"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."

the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.

he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.

"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.

"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.

"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."

"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."

"i really hope so."

"now can you pass me those chips please?"

toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)

toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.

he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.

no touching. that is all he asks of you.

and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.

you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.

the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.

you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.

toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.

you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"

"why were you just standing there like that?"

"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."

"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"

you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"

"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."

you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."

"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."

"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.

a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."

"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."

"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.

his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.

"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."

"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.

"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."

"i'm not hiding anything, toji."

"uh huh."

shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.

you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.

you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.

"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.

"turn around f'me."

"huh?"

"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."

you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."

"and i hate when you lie, now turn."

you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.

god dammit. you're so dead.

nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.

"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.

you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.

"open."

"can't we just-"

"open."

you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.

toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.

"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"

"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"

"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."

"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."

"you're being a prick."

"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.

"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."

"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"

"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"

"what. do i say. about my weapons."

you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."

"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."

"look, i'm sorry."

"shut the hell up and come on."

despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.

when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.

the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.

"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.

you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.

toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.

you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.

"go slowly," you plead.

"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."

"shut the fuck up."

toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."

the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.

"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."

your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.

"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.

you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.

"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.

toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"

"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."

toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."

"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.

"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."

you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."

"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"

you perk up. "really?"

"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."

"don't be a smartass."

toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."

"...how about after we're done here?"

"don't fucking push it."

ryomen sukuna: (fever!)

you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.

you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.

you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.

you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.

it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.

102.4. perfect.

you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.

you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-

shit! sukuna.

there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.

you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.

you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.

which of course, he does.

a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.

"yes?" you croak.

"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.

"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.

"who the hell else would it be?"

"sorry... i was asleep."

"at this hour?"

"...what'dy'mean?"

"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"

you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?

"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.

"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"

"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.

"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."

fuckkkk.

how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.

"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"

"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.

"what exactly do you take me for?"

you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.

"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.

"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."

"i'm not i-ill."

"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"

this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."

"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."

"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."

"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."

"that's impossible."

"try me."

you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.

your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.

your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.

sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.

he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.

he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"

he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.

"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?

hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.

he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.

"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.

he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.

he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.

when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.

you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.

your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.

"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.

"why are we... what happened?"

"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."

your heart sinks. "how high?"

"when we got here, tipping past 105."

"...are you serious?"

"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."

he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’

"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"

"...i..."

"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."

you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"

"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."

you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"

"care?"

"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."

"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"

"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."

sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"

"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."

"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."

you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"

sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."

you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.

"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.

"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.

"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."

"kuna," you mumble.

"what?"

"can you... take me home?"

sukuna raises a brow. "home?"

"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."

"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."

"then bring them with."

"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."

"ten?!" you exclaim.

"you were very ill, (y/n)."

you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."

sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.

you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.

he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”

"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.

"what is it?"

you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."

the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."

13K notes · View notes

rosiereveries · 26 days ago

Text

Regency!John Price who inherited his brothers duke title, because his brother died without an heir. John was the second oldest son, and he never thought about being the successor to the title, so he chose a military career.

He was a captain who fought wars and won them, not some lord who fancied balls and dressed in fancy clothing. But now he doesn’t have a choice. John comes back home after he has been badly injured in the battle, he was shot in his leg, and he had to use a wheelchair for quite some time.

When he comes home, to the new house and staff who pities him, he doesn’t feel like a man he once was. At the first ball he must attend he can see everyone eyes on him as he stumbles with his cane. He absolutely hates it. So, he makes a plane, he has to quickly marry some girl, make an heir and go live to the countryside where everyone will leave him alone.

You were on the other hand the youngest daughter of noble family. You weren’t rich, but your sisters and brothers married well, so you could keep good family reputation. Now it was your turn to marry, and as you were introduced to the society you quickly came to the realization, that you will probably end as a wife of some old man, who could be your grandfather.

So, when your cousin Johnny mentions, that his loyal friend and mentor John Price is looking for a wife you are interested. He tells you that John is a duke now and that he wants to get married as soon as possible. From Johnnys stories you know that John is a good man, who will hopefully respect you and treat you well.

You don’t get to meet your husband till the day of the wedding. The whole engagement is short and feels very official. He writes you a letter with things that you should know about your new home and your mother and sisters help you prepare for the married life.

When you finally see your future husband standing in the church, you’re quite surprised. He is very handsome, older than you, probably in his late 30s, but you’re sure that if he waited a little, he could find a better wife that you will be. John on the other hand is smitten by you, he also doesn’t understand why you would choose to marry him.

After the ceremony you immediately leave the town. He is very quiet the whole ride to his mansion and even thought you have many questions you stay quiet too. You arrive late in the night, exhausted from the long travel, but the only thing that concerns you is the wedding night. You heard a lot of horrible stories told by maids about their first nights with their husbands. The only thing that John does is that he shows you your room, tells you which butler to call if you have any troubles and he is gone. You’re left in the huge mansion alone and confused.

The breakfast takes place in the dining room. You sit at the table so far from John that you would have to shout to get his attention. He ignores you most of the time. At first you don’t mind it, you finally have some sort of freedom, you explore the land, the house and you find a huge library with many books you want to read.

But after some time, you start to crave his attention. The maids don’t want to be your friends, they think that it is highly inappropriate, you as a couple don’t attend any balls and there is no noble lady in the near distance you could visit and be friends with.

So, you start to write a diary, you write about how you feel and how would you like your husband to actually acknowledge you. Sometimes you also mention that you find him very attractive and the romance novels that you found in the library don’t help your imagination.

One time you forget your diary in the library and John accidentally picks it up. He thinks its some book that he hasn’t read yet. When he realizes that it is your handwriting, he knows that he should put it down, it is not right to invade your privacy. But then he sees his name there and he must know what you write about him.

He reads the whole paragraphs about how your meetings in the dinning room leaves you all flustered and how you crave his attention. He didn’t think that a young girl like you could find him attractive, and he wanted to be a good husband and leave you as much freedom as you could want. He didn’t want to pressure you into any kind of intimate relationship even though he was pressured by the rest of his family to have an heir. John leaves your diary where he found it, without any evidence that he read it.

The next morning, he invites you to eat breakfast with him in the garden. It is far more intimate, and you finally have a conversation with him. He asks you questions about your hobbies, your family and if you like it here.

It finally feels like he is courting you and you leave every encounter with him with rosy cheeks and butterflies in your stomach. He invites you on walks where he holds your hand as you tell him about your day or about the new book you just left. You spend the whole days together learning about each other.

John tells you stories about the war, the battles he fought. His leg heals up perfectly and now, that he is healthy again, he takes you with him when he goes riding. When you ask him if he likes the hight society he tells you the truth. He tells you how much he despises the formal event and the balls and suddenly it all makes sense to you.

You finally understand why he wanted to marry so quickly and why you live alone in the middle of nowhere. You tell him that you loved the dancing and the beautiful gown you could wear at balls but now you don’t mind the quiet life. Now you have him and that is all that matters.

One evening he makes a ball just for you. He invites a musician to play, he buys you an expensive gown and you pretend that you are at some formal event. It’s just the two of you dancing, laughing and drinking expensive champaign he bought for the ball. You dance the whole night and after he walks you to your bedroom he kisses you. It is a soft kiss, just your lips barely touching, but it starts a fire in you, and you want more.

When John realizes that you’re not pulling away he deepens the kiss. He knows that you have no experiences, and he wants to show you that he will treat you well. He spends the night with you, showing you in many ways how much he loves you.

And when you finally fall asleep, he thinks how lucky he is to find a wife like you. When you wake up and you see your husband sleeping in your bad you are very grateful that you accidentally left your diary in the library open on the page that mentioned how hot he was. Such a shame you didn’t come up with the plan a little earlier.

Masterlist

#john price #john price x reader #cod x reader #john price x f!reader #task force 141 #call of duty #captain john price #cod #john price x you #rosiereveries

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saetoru · 1 year ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six.

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four.

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.

scarily handsome, in fact.

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

#teepods.writings #fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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