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sugurus-thoughts · 2 months ago

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03. sata doesn't know you like I do

❆pairing — saturo gojo x virgin! reader!

❆summary —santa, doesn't know you like I do i know all of your favorite songs pick up each time you call so why can't I be the one to give you everything you want?

❆ w/c — 15,1k

warnings —nsfw, established relationship, angst, fluff, suggestive, making out, smut, pure love, mentions virginity, first time, touching, MDNI.

a/n — Istarted a series based on, Sabrina Carpenter's ep called Fruitcake. Since Christmas is drawing near I'll base every character on a song title. This series will also continue if it does well also keep note this is my first time writing smut I hope it fit your liking. I hope you all like it!!! ❤️

ps: I didn't proof read this I was so tired but hopefully you enjoy it!!

"Does it hurt, my love?" he whispered, his voice a low, husky caress that sent shivers down your spine. The struggle to contain his pleasure was evident in every ragged breath, yet he maintained a fragile thread of control, solely for your comfort. His eyes, dark pools of desire, delved deep into yours, searching for the slightest whisper of discomfort. But you merely shook your head, a silent assurance that your pleasure exceeded any hint of pain.

"I need words, my love," he implored, his soft, gentle voice a stark contrast to the primal passion that threatened to consume him. His smile, a tender, loving gesture, was solely for you, and you alone. Your response, a broken, trembling whisper, betrayed the emotions that swirled within you.

Satoru was a man of boundless patience, especially when it came to you. A man of honor and quiet dignity, he carried your heart above his own, always putting you first. From the moment you met at a small, unassuming gathering introduced by your ever-thoughtful friend Shoko Ieiri—there was an undeniable spark. Shoko had always believed in love for you, convinced that someone like you, so strong yet so deserving of tenderness, was meant to find it. She saw the beauty in your independence, the strength in your solitude, but also the quiet ache you tried so hard to conceal.

As a lawyer and a fiercely self-reliant woman, you had built a life where love seemed unnecessary, even impractical. You had spent years alone, finding purpose in your work, strength in yourself, and telling yourself that this was enough. You didn’t think love had a place in your world, let alone a man like him. But then came Satoru— persistent, with his piercing blue eyes, his pale skin, and hair like freshly fallen snow, so unapologetically himself. He didn’t just want to know you; he was determined to understand you, to peel back the layers you’d so carefully constructed.

You never thought you’d meet someone like him in your late twenties, when you’d long given up on the idea of love being something for you. Yet here he was, his presence softening the edges of a heart you thought had grown too calloused. He saw you—not the lawyer, not the independent woman who needed no one—but you. The woman who had quietly resigned herself to a life alone, who thought she didn’t want children, who believed her purpose was in helping others, not in being loved herself.

And somehow, against all odds, the gods smiled upon you and sent him your way—a man so steady, so persistent, so utterly devoted to unraveling your barriers. With Satoru, you felt a vulnerability you had spent years avoiding, but also a kind of safety you never knew you craved. It was as if the universe decided you’d spent long enough braving the world alone, and it placed this beautiful, unrelenting force of love in your path to remind you that even the strongest among us are allowed to lean on someone.

As the months passed and Christmas finally arrived, the gift you had been saving for him on this sacred day was nothing short of perfect. Dressed in delicate white lace that caressed every curve of your figure, you moved toward him with a slow, deliberate grace. His world seemed to halt time, space, and eternity all froze in awe of your presence. Breathless and spellbound, he dared not speak, his every thought consumed by the vision of you drawing nearer, a promise of passion in your every step.

Now as you lay beneath him, with his slender fingers inside you, lace has not yet been removed. His eyes boring into your Y/E/C ones, only to find a single tear seep from yours. He was quick to remove his hand but you stopped him so quickly, only for him to cry out his name. Surely it only awakened him fully, not by want or by hast but for your own pleasure.

“Saturo… please just move”, with a bit of hesitation but selfish desire he could not resist her at all,for she was his everything after all. And before he could even think further… you kissed him. Kissed him so profoundly, so delicately almost as if snow would melt away any second now.

And with that,

For the first time his fingers moved and a low moan could be heard from you as he pushed into you slightly. The wet sounds could be heard from your core, minutes before this moment as he laid before your womanhood delicately preparing you for the pain you might yield before you.

“Saturo” a beautiful moan was heard from your lips as he kept residing within, his lust was growing by the minute, only to make you fully his and only his alone.

“Fuck… your so wet my love” he murmured lowly only to kiss your neck, to distract you from the pain. He knew how much it hurt but he knew the pleasure would soon come after. Your moan was getting extremely out of control, and he knew something was coming slowly but surely. The way you tighten around his two fingers was clear you were close to your breaking point.

“You like that?” he asked softly with a smirk.

His ego was getting the best out of him,for him to know that he is your first,made him feel like you belong to him and now man will ever touch you the way he is touching you.

“Saturo please…. there's something.. please” she gripped his arm, only to close her eyes but knowing Saturo he fully didn't like that.

“Open your eyes sweetheart, you're close.. you feel that?” He couldn't help but see the way your breasts were bouncing slightly only for him to start kissing your neck and reach them for them softly. Without removing the lace that hugged your figure so perfectly he kissed your aroused nipples and slightly sucked onto the thin layer of wet patch. The sounds you'd made were wonderful, his name was rolling off your lips and the man he is took pride in this.

“Saturo…. please-pl-please something is happ-” before you could finish he kissed you and the position you were in has slightly changed to an open-legged spoon position,finally just like that he could feel you were close, and he only let you continue to spread his name fully.

“Saturo”a final whisper came from you as Saturo devoured your neck, and slightly pinched your nipples.

“Let go… my love “ and with one final say you came undone and he continued to ride through your climax in your shaking state.

The snow fell relentlessly outside, blanketing the world in quiet serenity, as your own body surrendered to the storm within—a heavenly tempest stirred by nothing more than the way Satoru's striking azure eyes held you captive.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, his voice a tender melody that wrapped around your heart. His lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile that made the chaos within you settle for just a moment.

You exhaled shakily, every word feeling like a confession he had been yearning to hear. “I’m okay, Satoru,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy with unspoken affection. His gaze deepened, as if your very breath was the only thing he needed to feel complete.

His slender fingers traced your red swollen lips as he slightly opened your mouth to taste yourself. You moaned at his unpleasant actions,only to find yourself empty without his fingers inside you,as much as it hurt the pleasure itself took over only making you crave more and more of him.

Saturo could only smile at your response, as you licked his finger cleanly.

At this cold hour he can only get up to remove the unyielding lace that has been covering your beautiful body slightly. He could only feel the soft flesh of your breasts as he removed the lace inch by inch. The way your body shook at the slightest touches he gave you was a sign that only he was meant to fill up that empty space within you.

As you lie before him, bare and vulnerable like a lamb surrendered to the hands of fate, he sees not just your form but the depth of your soul. Stripped of pretense, you are as pure as moonlight on still waters, and he can only dream of the mysteries that lie beneath the surface, waiting to embrace him in their quiet, untamed beauty.

“Saturo,... it's not polite to stare” your reactions were adorable in this present moment only to make him question how the gods above have blessed him with someone so pure and utterly beautiful.

“Am I not allowed to stare at what's mine now?” he teasted coming closer and closer as he took off his clothes. He could see you blush as you kept glancing in his direction.

And finally as he stripped out of his last, clothing she could see what was waiting for her. His member slipped out perfectly only for you to witness how red the tip was, how it clearly looked like it was in pain. Your eyes grew wide at the thought of what might happen next,

“Now it's not polite to stare, is it love?”He mimicked your words softly which only caused your face to turned a slight crimson. He chuckled softly at your actions.

“It’s okay, baby, come here.” His voice was a low murmur, smooth and commanding. You couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly he could shift between personas. One moment, he was wild and unrestrained, laughter spilling from his lips like he didn’t have a care in the world. The next, his eyes darkened, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone like a predator closing in on his prey. And right now, with that teasing smirk and the way his gaze raked over you, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to run... or let him catch you.

“Saturo,.... is there something I need to do?”your angelic voice broke him out of his trace as he pulled you against the edge of the bed only to lean over your naked figure. Before he could respond, you whispered softly into his ear, “Can I put it in my mouth?” with a smirk he softly traced your soft features.

“You sure you can handle it my love…” he loved teasing you like this, but he also wanted to make sure your first time was a beautiful yet memorable experience for the both of you. As a man he didn't want to cross the line but yet you wanted it right?

Without hesitation he kissed your lips, only to guide one of your hands along his hard member. He moaned slightly as your small hands came in contact with him,you gasped at his robbing hard member,and this only made him smirk.

Saturo was acutely aware of his limits, yet in this moment, everything centered around you and your radiant essence. The only thing he yearned for was to envelop you in sheer happiness, to make this snowy night a canvas for your dreams and desires. As the world outside transformed into a winter wonderland, he felt an irresistible urge to explore the very depths of your soul, to discover the tender secrets that lay within you.

Each touch would be a gentle brushstroke, a sweet tribute to the love he held for you—a heartfelt expression of gratitude for your mere existence. He wanted to fulfill your every need, to whisper sweet promises against your skin and illuminate the corners of your heart. This evening was not just a moment in time but a sacred offering, where every caress would speak of devotion, and every lingering gaze would convey an unspoken understanding.

He knew you deserve every ounce of affection he could offer, and as the snowflakes danced in the air, he vowed to make you feel cherished, desired, and utterly intoxicatingly alive. Under the soft glow of the moonlight, he longed to weave a tapestry of intimacy between you, where passion and tenderness intertwined, creating an unforgettable symphony of two souls becoming one.

Before you could even continue your ministrations, he was on his knees in front of your sex,and just like that his tongue came into contact with your most precious parts.

“Saturo…. oh oh my gosh” his name dragged along with your hands in his hair as he pulled you closer to stop moving,trapping you with his most dangerous part: that tongue.

Without warning he slightly pushed his finger within you which only led you to jerk away but his skilled arm has you stepped beneath him like a hungry man devouring his prey.

“Fuck, your still so tight and warm my love,can you hear that?” he was mumbling within you and it only made you want to escape his hungry mouth more. You could hear the sounds your wet sex made as he continued his ministrations.

Your moans continued to break loose in this cold night but in the room the only thing that kept you warm was this man before you ate you out like he was hungry for me. You could feel yourself building up, that familiar feeling was drawing near it was so close, you could see the stars but before you could even grasp the feeling Saturo left you there like an open wound.

Before you could even utter a word, his lips captured yours, an electrifying jolt racing through your body as you tasted the sweetness of the moment. His tongue brushed against yours, sending ripples of sensation cascading through your core. As his hands interlaced with yours, he gently guided them above your head, a subtle but powerful gesture that made you feel both vulnerable and cherished.The kiss deepened, slowing into a languid exploration, each movement deliberate and intoxicating. He paused, his gaze locking onto yours, those deep eyes searching for something, perhaps reassurance. The softest kiss followed, a whisper of lips that lingered like a promise, a quiet apology for the overwhelming feelings building between you, as if he knew the leap you were both about to take.

Your breath hitched as you felt him carefully guided your thighs apart, you felt a rush of anticipation mixed with desire. He leaned in, lips brushing lightly against yours again, as if savoring the taste of you, while his body pressed closer, heat radiating between you. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around you like a warm embrace, each brush of his skin against yours setting every nerve ending ablaze. His hand slid down your arm, relishing in the softness of your skin, before resting at your waist, firm yet gentle.

The question you have been waiting for, like a deer caught in red lights, you couldn't help but shed tears at this very moment. The bliss of innocence that surrounded the both of you like pure love itself couldn't bestow this upon you.

“Are you ready my love?” he whispered the question heavy with promise.

And in that moment , you knew you were ready. You were ready to give yourself fully to this embrace, to explore the depths of intimacy together, to lose yourself in each other’s rhythm—a journey that was just beginning. In that sacred space, everything felt perfect, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both here, to this intoxicating moment where love and desire entwined, igniting a passion that would forever change you.

Nothing compared to this blissful moment, and that's when you felt it.

His member stretched you out so rapidly you couldn't feel the pain, he let out the slightest groan as his face came into contact with your neck only to be filled by your warmth on this very sacred day, it was a gift beyond. As his body lay on top of you, you could tell he was struggling, by just staying still in this moment waiting for you to give him permission. He lifted his head slightly, with sleepy eyes and smiled at you, only to ask in his purest form or words “Are you okay my love?” with tears slightly covering your beautiful face his fingers brushes away, each ripple.

“You can move, it's okay” a small teary smile, on your lips. Your lips lashed onto his before he could even protest.

Saturo could only feel his whole world crash before him as he slipped out of you only to be filled with your warmth again. He could hear the sounds of pain and pleasure escaping your lips. Could you be more of a goddess than you are now,the way your tits are bouncing up and down as he keeps pushing into you.

As minutes passed you could feel that the pain you felt earlier was beginning to pass slowly.

“Fuck, you feel so good my love, so tight so warm ” he moaned in you ear.

“F-F-faster Toru”, as you gripped his shoulders, for dear life. You could feel the pain slightly slither away as he kept going at a slow pace which only made you want him more.

“You like that, huh baby?” he smirked against your now heated skin and he moved slightly faster. You could feel that familiar sensation build up within you, as Saturo kept lacing into your womanhood.

Saturo kept praising you, as he continued his lustful acts, until you felt him slightly, kiss you neck only to latch his lips onto your right breast, the other hand was now playing with the left.

You arch your back slightly from the overwhelming pleasure. Never have you felt such pleasure from a man, the warmness of his tongue, the movement of his hips was enough to drive you to ecstasy.

“Saturo-.... baby… I'm” he let go of you only to go a bit faster you could tell he was close as well,by the way he was moaning and twitching inside your core.

“Fuck I'm just as close, I'm gonna make you all mine” he whispered softly as he gripped the headboard, looking into you eyes.

His finger reached your mouth only to stimulate the sensation more.

“I'm close fuck, just like that baby keep still!”

“Saturo!” you exhaled loudly.

With one strike the both of you reached your climax only to have him fill you up. Just like that he collapsed on top of you, pulverised from exhaustion.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The room felt alive with the warmth of what had just passed between you, the air heavy with a kind of intimacy that words couldn’t touch. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, then trailed softly down your arm, as if grounding himself in the reality of you beside him.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, yet it carried a tenderness that melted through you.

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting him in the dim light. “I am,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Better than I’ve ever been,” he admitted, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. “I just… I needed to be sure. I don’t ever want to do anything that doesn’t feel right for you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, at the sincerity in his gaze. “It felt perfect,” you assured him. “Because it was with you.”

He exhaled, as if releasing some invisible weight. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” he said, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “I’ve loved you for so long. I didn’t even think it was possible to feel closer to you than I already did. But now…”

“Now?” you prompted, your voice light and teasing as you watched his expression soften further.

“Now I feel like my heart doesn’t belong to me anymore,” he said, his tone serious yet filled with a quiet awe. “It’s yours. All of it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy ones. You leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s safe with me,” you whispered to him. “Because my heart has been yours for a long time, too.”

In the quiet that followed, the two of you stayed entwined, speaking in murmurs about your love, your dreams, and the endless possibilities of a future spent together. And as you drifted into the gentle embrace of sleep, his arms still around you, you felt as though you had finally found your home, in him.

©suguru's-thoughts 2024. do not copy or translate my work.

artwork does not belong to me. All credits to the owner.

banners are from the lovely @adornedwithlight !

a/n: I won't lie , I don't know if this will be good I felt a bit uncomfortable writing smut but I assume it was my first time . I honestly am slightly feeling a bit, out of place on tumblr and I know its only been a few days hopefully my writing does get better and I will grow an audience some day but please do give your opinions and feedback, it will really be thoughtful, thank you :') 🤍

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shimisstuff · 4 months ago

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Gojo stalked you, and finally, he took you all for himself 🔞🖤

Uncensored on X➡️ SPICY

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retiredteabag · 4 months ago

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The Open Window Lets The Rain In

pt. 1 - next part

pairing: satoru x reader (semi suguru x reader)

synopsis: Your time at Jujutsu Tech was something of a sanctuary for you. The position you were born for did not allow you wishes of your own. Resigning yourself to your destiny, you savor the moments you have with your friends. And don't dare to wish for more.

tags/warnings -angst to eventual fluff, multi pov, canon compliant, series, mentions of child abuse, manipulation, malnutrition, violence, injuries, and smoking-

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

"We ought to start back, Satoru." The other boy urged, parroting the concerns of their teacher. But while Satoru pretended not to hear his dark-haired classmate, you truly hadn't. Your focus was all too consumed by the people in the distance. Laughing and enjoying their day together, oblivious to the fact that they carried with them every unspoken wish silently held within your heart comfortably in their grasp.

"Huh?" You murmured, looking back up to your classmates ahead of you, realizing they had been calling your name for some time.

"Get a move on! Unless you want Yaga to lecture us all again!" Satoru shouted back to your nodding face. The boys turn from you and you shake the thoughts from your head.

It was time to turn back.

You had been quite young when your cursed energy had presented, and you have been paying for it ever since.

It had barely been six months since you began classes at the Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. You had joined in your second year, having spent your first over in the Kyoto branch. Near the end of your third semester Gakuganji, the school's principal, seemed certain that your potential would be better utilized in Tokyo. With this news, you had left without complaint.

Back then, you hadn't been sure you would fit in with the group of second years, but by the end of April, the small class had accepted you with open arms.

Your education prior to high school had been selective and rigorous, not in the academic sense but rather, in the physical. This, paired with your immense cursed energy made it easy to catch up with your fellow special-grade classmates.

Satoru Gojo was not at all what you had been expecting. He was immature and flamboyant. He seemed not to have a care in the world. Just as you had anticipated, however, his strength was insurmountable.

Suguru Geto was lenient and sarcastic. Like you, his parents were non-sorcerers. Even so, he went home to live with them during breaks, and his family accepted him for what he was.

Shoko Ieiri was the most laid back among the three, she also had the most technical skill. She was easy to like and the two of you had been fast friends. You both often made fun of the boys behind their backs.

"Do we really have to do this tonight, Geto?" Shoko is sat on the dorm room sink, lighter in hand.

"Don't tell me you're getting squeamish Shoko, need to take a breather?" Satoru is making a falsely pouty face as Shoko twirls a sewing needle between her fingers.

You're standing before Geto marking his earlobes with a pen.

"If anyone is squeamish it's you Satoru. But Y/n's got a mission tomorrow, she should be in bed." Shoko jumps off the sink, throws a look at the white-haired man and tilted her face to look between the markings you've made on Suguru's ears. "That looks pretty even."

"Awe boo hoo, a mission with the first years, so tough." Satoru rolls his eyes. "Why does Yaga always send you, anyway?" The man looks at the back of your frame. Your school jacket was strewn across Sugurus desk, you're clad in your dark, high-necked top. You've pulled your hair away from your face.

"He sends me because I'm responsible" You murmur, rubbing alcohol on the back of Suguru's ears, turning finally to smirk, "Unlike you three." You take the needle from Shoko and do your best to sterilize it with the flame, you set the earrings Geto chose on the side table next to him.

"Don't lump me in with those two." Shoko looks at you, offended, but you just laugh.

"Now, it might hurt a bit after I shove the jewelry in, just so you know." You meet Suguru's eyes. He looks calm, a grin present on his lips.

Satoru comes in close on the other side of you two. Loudly proclaiming, "Oh, please, if that tiny thing hurts he might as well not be a sorcerer." The boy's glasses are solid black but you can tell he is rolling his eyes dramatically.

You make a face at him but Suguru draws your attention once more. "Ignore him" he laughs, and you join in because you know that it is the very thing Satoru cannot stand. Said boy huffs beside you both.

"Alright, count of three." You stand to the boys left and you can see Satoru swallow thickly. Such a child.

Shoko is watching intently, stowing her lighter back in her pocket, you're leaning your knee against the bedframe Suguru is sat upon and Satoru is trying his best to even his breathing.

"One," you hold the tip of Sugurus ear, "two," you pick up the small black stud and roll it in your other hand, "three." You put the needle head on the tiny marking you put there, and press.

Suguru does not even flinch. Satoru lets out a pathetic noise and aggressively swings around so as not to look.

You try not to laugh while focusing on getting the jewelry in your classmates ear without too much pain but Shoko is toppling over herself with laughter.

"S-Satoru!!" She guffaws. "You are so-" but she can't finish, the giggles escaping steal her words.

Satoru is shuttering, having dashed in the bathroom now, he kneels by the sink, continually making disgusted sounds, running his hands over his arms to ease the chills.

"That wasn't so bad." You say, ignoring Satoru's noises. Shoko brings out a small mirror to show Suguru and he makes a pleased sound.

"Not at all..." He murmurs, turning his neck to get a better look.

"Leave it at the one." Satoru is back now, quickly crossing his arms. "I'm not watching that again."

"I bought a pair, Satoru, I'm doing them both." Suguru gives the boy a deadpan look and you prep the next earring while Satoru makes an annoyed "Ughhh" sound.

The self-proclaimed strongest sorcerer bites his knuckles while looking at the two of you. And when it's done, you worry he might faint. After a closer look though, he might just be in search of attention.

"All done. You should probably keep them clean." You turn to wash your hands.

"Mhmm, probably." Shoko echos, giggling still.

"Thanks." Geto stood up to look in a bigger mirror.

"Ughhhh Yaga is gonna kill you." Shoko looks up at Suguru and smiles, a sort of "tattle-tale" "I told you so" air to her voice.

"That's fine, it was worth it." Suguru waves her off, you give his ears one last look before making to leave with Shoko to your hall.

"Ohhhh yeah, I forgot! Y/n's got a big day tomorrow. So tiering, monitoring those first years." Satoru teases to the other boy. You chuckle and Shoko turns.

"As if you would know." She sticks her tongue out before making to leave with you, kicking the door shut.

"He's so stupid." She rolls her eyes, flipping her phone open.

You just hum, turning the halls in the silence.

The weather had long since grown warm in the ending weeks of spring, consistent as you were, however, you pulled your near-black turtleneck past your abdomen while dressing that morning. In the past, Shoko has jovially claimed you always wear the same thing, even outside of school.

Your uniform, customized to your comfort, consists of straight-cut, dark blue pants, your uniform jacket, and a form-fitted turtleneck. It did when you were at the Kyoto branch, and you have no intention of changing it now.

You shut the door of your closet, the rack of muted high-collar shirts hung there. Each tag was removed. Though easy now to ignore, you cannot avoid the region of sensitive flesh permanently branded just below your neck.

The early morning air is crisp, and in the time you have before shadowing Nanami and Haibara's mission, you allow yourself to enjoy the dull peace it brings to your morning.

Satoru thinks the first years are weak. Or maybe he just says that, you can never quite tell if he means all that he says. Regardless, they are skilled enough to handle a mission on their own. Even so, Yaga insists on someone monitoring them, after this years exchange event, if all goes well, perhaps they will be allowed to handle missions themselves.

You were hoping that your thoughts weren't too wishful when you are pulled from them, Haibara, adrenaline-filled and curious, calling your name.

"I've never really seen you use your technique, I mean, I guess that's the point, but I think I probably know more about Gojo's cursed energy than yours! And I barely ever see him!" Nanami is trailing slightly behind his classmate, listening to him ramble.

"Well" you hum, "That's good, don't you think? Just means you never need me to intervene on a mission." You look over and smile.

"Awe c'mon! What is it that you do? I'm so interested! I hope I can be a special grade one day too! Though, I doubt I ever will at this rate..." He mumbles around his words, seemingly too focused on his thoughts to actually be worried about his placement as a sorcerer.

"You already know about my technique, Haibara. I create weapons with my cursed energy. That's about it... I'm pretty lucky though, since they're not physical items, most curses can't really see them which means they can't tell what it is I'm using."

You lift your arm in front of yourself, palm up, in an instant your short sword appears there, held at equilibrium, a few inches up the blade. As soon as it appeared, the weapon melts away in your grasp and you look up at the boy, knowing he couldn't have seen what you'd just done.

"Except Gojo, right?" Nanami is beside you now, trying to meet your eyes. You turn to him.

"Yes..." sighing, you look up at him, "Yes, that's right- Gojo, he's the exception to a lot of things."

Nanami shakes his head, seemingly annoyed by this and Haibara bounds ahead of you both.

You can't be sure, but after today you have every confidence that this years exchange event will end well. And by next spring, you won't need to monitor the first years. With all that time on your hands, you can't imagine what you'll get up to.

Utahime was a fourth year when you were finally given liberty to come to Jujutsu Tech, despite her seniority, she has always felt like something of a little sister to you. You'd never tell her that though.

This is her first year as a full time sorcerer and her presence marks the onset of the exchange event. Her voice carries across the grounds as you make your way to stand by your classmates at the school entrance. A smile comes to your face as you watch her throwing visceral insults at Gojo as this is the only way she can attack him.

It's not her fault. He is cruel to her.

When she spots you, her gasp only makes your smile grow. She shrieks out your name, "AH! How I missed you! I feel SO bad you have to be here with THEM." She throws an anguished look at your classmates and Shoko only grins, knowing Utahime would never associate her with the two boys.

"Now that's just mean, Utahime, you-" Gojo is cut off as Iori spins around, pointing a finger at the younger boy and shouting that he ought to be more like you.

"She's so polite!" Utahime gives you a big hug. Her arms wrap snuggly around your neck and you flinch at the contact, playing it off as a movement to pat her shoulder.

"Why would I want to be more like anyone?" Gojo swings himself off of the stoop that leads to the schools entrance, landing with his arms lifted, "I'm already perfect!" He pushes his glasses back into his hair, his gaze seems to tease Utahime, she looks as though she wants to stomp her foot, but contains the urge.

"You are insufferable." She spins to look at you once more, "I'm rooting for you," She turns one more time to glance at Gojo, "and only you," she clarifies, "in the event. I know you'll do well. Be kind to the Kyoto first years." She gives you a pleading look.

"I'll be gentle with them." You smile at her and she grips your hand once more before dashing off, likely to help coach the students from her alma mater.

In the time you've been in Tokyo, one could understand your forgetting that Gojo Satoru has eyes behind those pitch glasses he wears. Rarely removing them, you hardly see the famed six-eyes, but when he looks down at you just then, his look pierces you in a startling way.

"Don't go easy on anyone, that's so lameeee." He extends the words and droops his head too look at you, "Ugh what's even the point of this whole thing when everyone is so weak."

"Gojo, they'll never get stronger if you beat them down too much." You speak from experience, having witnessed this "invisible lid" phenomena before, but he couldn't possibly know that.

"They'll never get strong at all, lets be honest." He laughs to himself and somewhere behind you both you hear Suguru pestering him about being entitled.

But deep down, you know he's right. Any sorcerer can improve but there are few set apart. Born with intention, with purpose, and you have long since given up trying to evade the purpose of your existence.

As a child, days came and went the same as they do now, the one consistent aspect that remained true in those days was the dull ache, that- evidently eternal- buzzing on either side of your spine.

It was difficult to enjoy the exchange event when your mind was elsewhere. You simply could not tare your subconscious away from the dread that swam within you at the advent of summer break. It was clear at the grins of your classmates that you were the only one with wishes of staying at school for the summer holiday.

None of your classmates were familiar with the Residential Boarding for Children with Unattended Cursed Energy. They either came from sorcerer clans, or they had parents that couldn’t mind or know of their abilities. Gakuganji, the principal of the Kyoto school seemed well informed about the "goings-on" at the estate you were raised however.

You had been taken by the boarding school with little memory of your life prior. Cursed Energy rarely presented itself in children younger than five years old, however, your technique developed early, and was unexplainable to parents without knowledge of the Jujutsu world.

Allowed to be trained from a young age by competent sorcerers, it was easy to see how the boarding school might have been portrayed as a charity, or even a blessing to orphaned young. Gakuganji certainly made it out to be. Even so, what went untold were the secrets just below the surface of the dojos and dorm rooms seen by the public.

Nearly all forms of gambling or organized fights (outside of mixed martial arts competitions) were highly illegal in Japan. Having said that, you learned quickly that those drawn to violence and risk were often willing to go to the most extreme lengths to take part in the underground world hidden from the eyes of law abiding citizens.

And you, as well as many other children with unbridled cursed energy were forced to take place in the bloodthirsty entertainment so enjoyed by those that put little value in human life.

In your future years, you might be surprised to know, the scars etched into your back would hold little to no significance in your daily life, at this moment, however, as a child with no claim on your autonomy, the bar that was so neatly tailored to your neck dug its wired talons into your scapula, void of electricity, yet still unforgettably present.

Before you was a feast to your young eyes, fresh bread, marinated beef on rice, pork dumplings, roasted vegetables, and baked potatoes. This was the best meal you had received in your time as a ring fighter. It was fair to say that the motivation of a good meal was encouraging enough for you to take aim at whomever stood askance in the opposing corner of the ring.

Heads across the room shot to the door as soon as the entrance to the hall was slammed.

"Shame you couldn't get your act together." Came a deep voice in the hall, firm boots echoed up the stony floors.

As the adults approached the guarded off room you sat in, the noise of a struggle worked its way closer as well. A frustrated grunt came from one of the men who looked to be tugging a young boy by the arm into the space.

"Alright. That does it." A dull buzz was heard and most everyone in the room visibly turning away from the scene. Eyebrows pulled down, gazes averted, knowing exactly what the boy in the mans grasp was feeling.

"I swear they do it to themselves." The man who once held the boy removed his finger from the device on his hip. The boy collapsed in a heap on the floor. Barely-there breaths escaping him.

"If ya had behaved you could've eaten with the rest of the kids. See where making a fuss gets you?" The toe of the mans shoe was gently placed under the boys jaw, one might think the man about to kick the child but the next moment, his figure had turned and he was walking off. The opened door left behind as a mockery to the onlooking boys and girls.

You knew what the man had been saying, the boy could be eating right now with the rest of the kids, but each student was only allowed one meal per time block, and none of the children sat on the tables were willing to give up the little bit of stew allotted to them that night.

The boy on the floor looked far too weak still to get up and scan his bar for dinner. You had already felt slightly sickened by the abundance before you, but now, with the child laying a few feet from your spot by the wall, you had decided.

That was how you had met Kaito.

He had been far older than you when he was accepted by the program. In the later years, the mentors would come to learn he had little cursed energy. Not very strong. Not much good for entertainment.

Those who could not fight. Did not eat. Or at least, did not eat well.

You looked out for Kaito back then, sharing your meals with the boy. And he had looked out for you in other ways. Being one of the most known students among the crowd awarded you many good meals, and more experience training your technique, but did not grant you much time of study. Kaito excelled where you fell short, and frequently insisted on tutoring you, eventually, you both would find joy in the stories he would read to you while you massaged your limbs after fights.

Kaito was the only one you looked forward to seeing as you exited the station and made the trek back to your off-season boarding. He was eighteen now, and had not been used for entertainment training purposes since he was taken on by the grounds crew.

When you had first left for Kyoto, he had an established job as a groundskeeper. Now, his tenure at the estate might very well be coming to an end and you were unsure how you planned to move forward without him there.

It was already challenging enough, leaving Shoko, Geto, and Gojo with a smile, but at least you knew you would see them again. Was it selfish to wish Kaito could remember you, even as he inevitably goes on to pursue a normal life?

And then even worse, would it be wrong of you, to feel the weight of envy on your shoulders?

These questions swirl in your mind as you stand before the estate, it was clear that in the time you had been away, funding for the school had grown to new heights. Crossing the threshold, a hand on your duffel, you make your way to the communal dorms, picking an open bed, and sprawling across its length.

Unfortunately, this place smelled of home. Five weeks seemed too cruel a sentence for the turning of the season.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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peppertoastuniverse · 8 months ago

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pep reads: geto suguru – long fics

But dang, i didnt realise we were all so thirsty for geto the brainrot is so real

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

☆ as we walk by cerialilith [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 29/? chapters] [singledad!geto] [slow burn] [eventual smut!] [nocurses!AU] #sweet, softest sugu

He only loves two things in life: the scent of coffee and his daughter. But perhaps he can make a few adjustments.

— In which the single mother across the hall manages to catch Geto’s eye without him realizing it.

☆Temptations by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 5/6 chapters] [ smut!] [nocurses!AU] #sugu treats you RIGHT #pep MELTED Suguru Geto is a playboy. A man who's had more lovers than he can even count. You've never been in a relationship, not even experiencing a real kiss when you first meet Suguru. But the two of you fall for each other, and you know that he's the one you want to experience all your firsts with.

☆ Breathe Me In by lovelied [AO3] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [smut!] #pep love this characterization of Suguru Desperate for distraction, a troubled Suguru Geto began inviting you over each night. It began as a casual arrangement, but over time, you found yourself yearning for him in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

☆The good morrow by @temozarela [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing? ◦ 2/? Collection of fics] [smut!] #pep’s comfort fic

You narrowed your eyebrows as you felt your body being jolted, large hands gripping your face, and then your shoulders. Groaning softly, you turned in your sleep, trying to make sense of the voice fading in and out of your brain. It didn’t sound like it was from your dream… It was hushed… low… soft…

It sounded like your name.

aka.

geto finds you after his defection to say goodbye

☆ Mascara by softsellars [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 5/7 chapters] [smut!] [tw!cheating] [nocurses!AU] [artist!suguru] #complex reader, patient sugu

You've never been a particularly good person, you're self-aware enough to know it. It's your only flaw, and recently you've actually been working to better yourself.

For example: paying for a 30-dollar Uber so you can take your friend home only for her to ditch you for some guy when it comes down to it. Although you’re pissed, you decide to try and make the best of it instead of get into a screaming match with her.

It's an easy thing to do when Getou Suguru is offering you everything to do just that. Everything a party entails: liquor, weed, and sex with a perfect stranger.

And Getou knows perfectly well you have a boyfriend, so it's not like he'll want anything serious.

***Porn with a little plot

☆ Whisper of the Petals by @nanamis-baker [tumblr!] [status: on going ◦ 2/? chapters] [slow burn] [College!AU] #SO SO SWEET #sugu with dumb feelings

A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology... but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together. ☆ AFFECTION'S EDGE by @rush-the-stars [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed ◦ 3/3 chapters] [omega!verse] #THE INTENSITY?!

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

*** Suguru tries to tame you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ

bonus!

☆ Musubi by Penrose_Quinn [AO3] [status: unknown ◦ 2/? chapters] #LOVE THE CHEMISTRY

Then there was a quiet shrewdness in the way he carried himself. You would call it cocky, but this one proved to be more poised and collected on how things would unfold for him. Framed with the anchor of his composure, legs stretched out in front of him but not overly laid-back, and his mind – whatever unfathomable brilliance that dwelt underneath – was unperturbed, self-assured. You wouldn’t claim to have known him entirely though like this, Suguru looked more like himself. “But you won’t disappear,” he concluded. “Not yet anyway.” You gave in to a hum. “You’re really making it tempting for me to leave you hanging on nothing.” Suguru listened, waiting. His pursuit was a game of patience and you chased after the gamble.

Or: the string of each encounter was an entanglement to what brought you closer to him, twisted in each other’s darkness, torn and tied back together throughout the years.

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its-pip-art · 6 months ago

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The dream tbh part 2 🥰

Part 1

#Geto smut #Gojo smut #Suguru smut #satoru smut #gojo x geto x reader #geto x gojo x reader #gego x reader #geto suguru x oc #Gojo Satoru x oc

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metranart · 9 months ago

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My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 1)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, breeding, obsessive behavior, horny sorcerers, idiots in love, being the willing pet of your senseis, best friend! Megumi, Jealous! Megumi, anal plug, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, falling in love, Pregnancy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, smut, rough sex, shameless smut, creampie, explicit sexual consent, sexual tension, shameless flirting, scratching.

The yearning for him began the same day you were assigned under the tutelage of Satoru Gojo. You were just a teenager who innocently sat on her sensei’s lap when got the chance, you accepted the treats he shared with you, and you worshiped every word that came out of his mouth as if it were the pure gold.

You would never admit it out loud, but you had a huge, annoying crush on your sensei.

"-He's married you know?" Megumi said, his gaze lost at a point on the horizon, his tone hiding a feeling which you didn't recognize at the time.

"I do not know what you are talking about, Megumi-kun."

"Suguru-sensei is his husband, and he’s the jealous type." Megumi continued as if he hadn't heard you, still looking ahead. Your heavy sigh the only indicator that you acknowledged his words.

"I know they're both your parents-"

"No." This time his chaotic blue eyes did fall on you. "They're my guardians, that's all."

You nodded and let the topic go. Megumi always got uncomfortable when someone mentioned it, especially when you did. You didn't really understand, you would love to have Satoru and Suguru's attention all to yourself. Megumi was so lucky.

You still remember the exact day it happened, it was your last year at jujutsu high and you were about to become a first-grade sorcerer. Although you were already eighteen years old, you were still under Gojo's tutelage and care.

Guardianship which just at that moment you stepped on a whim. Maybe Satoru never expected you to dare, but you never expected him to encourage you to continue.

".... Ngh! Don’t stop, sweet girl." His purr almost got stuck in his dry throat, but you still heard him and obeyed him.

Riding that hard, erect cock still trapped behind the black fabric of his pants, while your warm asscheeks hugged it and pumped it in eager sways that started as an accident but were now deliberately obscene.

As was your custom, he allowed you to sit on his lap, as he had always done, but an accidental movement of your hips, a slippery moan from his tight lips, and the notorious wetness of your panties was the perfect combination to let himself go.

"You are treating sensei so good," he groaned, both big, strong hands guiding and smashing your hips harder against his bulge. "Sensei needs-" he choked, feeling the glorious shape of your pussy around him, "sensei needs to-"

"I know." You indeed knew, and even if this little slip on his part would become the only time you had him for your own, you’ll make it legendary. This magnificent man was going to come hard for you.

It didn't take you long to make his cock pulsate and spasm out those thick ropes of bittersweet cream inside his pants, the burst came with a euphoric scream, rich in curses and praises. You knew you had overstayed your welcome already, and being bold for a moment longer, you turned around, hunting for a just another souvenir to help you endure the cold nights on your own. Slowly leaning closer you placed a soft, warm kiss on his panting lips, just a taste for the rode. Your sensei's eyes lit up like a neon sign, full of surprise and shock.

"It's a shame that Suguru-san is so jealous." You complained goodheartedly, stealing another peck from those bright and delicious heaving lips, and got up with as much elegance as you could while having your panties glued to your wet cunt, fixed your skirt and left.

Months of silent familiarity and odd pretention passed before Gojo summoned you to his office after school. You expected a scolding, an expulsion, maybe that he was disappointed and alarmed by your slutty behavior, or at least embarrassed but what you didn’t expect what came out of his lips.

“Love is a curse,” he explained, a leg crossed in front of the other in the most carefree attitude, “…and I exorcise curses.” Those icy, blue eyes set firmly on yours. “Would you like sensei to exorcise your curse, (Y/N)?”

Your lower lip found its way to your teeth, being chewed while you nervously thought of an answer, you weren't sure what he meant and you were afraid to ask, you didn't want him to continue seeing you as a naive girl, as his student, his responsibility... so pretending you understood, you nodded.

"Are you sure?"

He asked, making sure you understood what he demanded. A white eyebrow rose on his forehead and when his lips were about to part to explain better as he usually did, you stopped him.

"I'm sure."

Gojo kept quiet for a moment, sighed a conspiratorial chuckle that almost seemed mischievous, and smiled up at you.

"If you are sure,” he stressed, “…. then come and kneel in front of your sensei, pet."

The first time Suguru Geto saw you, you were on your knees, your mouth full of his husband… actually, to the brim with his husband’s fat cock, taking it deep in your trained throat, hiding at plain sight behind a school desk while being nested between Satoru Gojo’s spread, thick thighs as he fed you heaps of his prodigy milk -as he liked to call it.

If you could barely breathe then now you are actually choking, the shock of being discovered was making your heart beat violently against your ribcage.

Satoru raised his eyes, meeting his husband’s gaze directly, watching him lean calmly against the frame and leave the door wide open, as if he wanted someone besides him to see you as well, even though it was almost six in the afternoon and the classes were over.

“-My love, I told you not to wait up for me, I was going to be late.” Satoru Gojo purred easily to his one and only, making him grin back at him.

“Oh, I see you're working after hours again," Suguru mocked from his spot on the door.

Satoru Gojo endearingly ran his hand over your flushed face, your embarrassed, confused and shocked expression extremely ridiculous compared to your stretched, swollen lips around his girthy cock, pushing your head against his pubic hair even harder, as if he were reluctant to let go even when you were caught, but Suguru shook his head, indicating that everything was fine.

Satoru closed peeked down at you, and a mischievous smirk graced his playful features.

“I don't know who told you that Suguru was jealous,” he wondered out loud holding your confused stare, “are you jealous, baby?”

Suguru Geto shrugged his broad shoulders equally playful. “Only if you don't share.”

You choked on the meat nested inside your throat and pulling you out for you to gulp some air, you coughed a little, droll and precum sliding down your chin when suddenly Gojo pushed you back to him, helping you suck him awkwardly. Using your mouth as his cocksleeve until he felt himself getting close to his price.

“Is my dutiful husband close to cream this lovely sorceress esophagus in thick milk?”

Satoru smirked, chucking lowly while still ramming your face to meet his pubic bone over and over again, and once felt he was close opened his eyes to watch as Suguru crossed his arms calmly, waiting for you to probe your worth.

“Don’t let it spill, (Y/N).” Suguru- sensei commanded, “In my family, wasting food is a sin.”

Suguru Geto teased with a wide grin but didn't move from his spot until after Satoru finished with a blast, until your face was covered in his husband’s musky cum since you couldn’t swallow such a massive load. The panting of your damaged voice was nothing more than clear evidence of a well-fucked throat. Satoru watched Suguru close the door behind him, latch it, step closer to the two of you and lean down to shamelessly, place a gentle kiss on your sweaty temple as you struggled to get your breathing even.

“You said her throat was like a fleshlight,” Suguru said to his panting husband, “and that she could swallow gallons without spill.”

“Having you here made my load heavier than usual,” Satoru defended, passing a hand through his disheveled mop of hair, “wasn’t my star student’s fault.”

Was your supposed secret affair with your sensei a regular topic for them? Isn't Suguru Geto angry with you? You couldn't look at his face, not even after he kissed your forehead so confusedly sweet, it was all too confusing... should you leave, apologize and leave? maybe it was the best...

“(Y/N),” Satoru said then, pulling out of your thoughts and lifting your chin up so he could get a good look at your pretty, flushed face, a wicked smirk spreading across his handsome face as his lips spelled. “Could you do sensei a favor?”

“A favor…?” you asked between ragged breaths, and he curled those shiny lips amused, Suguru Geto openly chuckled at your pathetic stamina. No doubt the metaphorical leash that Satoru was putting around your neck was still a work in progress, a good, faithful pet would have said yes immediately.

Your face was red, feverish, the blush extending to the edges of your eyes and also your ears. You were focused on the white-haired man you call sensei, desperate to know what he was going to ask of you, even when you wanted to, you couldn’t deny the exciting stirring inside your tummy that his mischievous requests always brought. He, being the only man in your eighteen-year-old existence to make your loins knot with something wild and feral.

You waited, cocking your head to the side, and Satoru grinned again, dragging his thumb over the bridge of your nose, collecting the white gobs of his own cum on the pads and putting it into his mouth, still warm and incredibly wet, eagerly closing around his thumb almost immediately, to then moan hoarsely.

“(Y/N),” he repeated after having tasted himself mix with your sweat. Satoru’s calm breathing against your sweaty forehead tickled you. He ran his thumb again but this time across your cheek, playing with his own mess, his intense blue eyes steady on your eyes, watching and recording inside his mind how you reacted to his perverted way of cleaning you, and the tremor that ran through your body looked almost like a convulsion, forcing you to fall over your calves tiredly. Satoru chuckled at the pleasant power play, proud of having so much effect over you, and without hesitation, ended up his request.

"I want you to sit on my husband’s cock and warm him up for a while, okay?"

You knacked and lay there over your calves, immobile.

"Do you need time to get hard again, Satoru?" Suguru scoffed, plainly ignoring your statue-like posture in order to kiss your sweaty face again, this time your cleaned cheek.

Satoru laughed, cocking his head in his direction, the blue of his eyes always more surprisingly bright and clear up close than it was from afar.

“I just thought you'd like to fuck her.”

“Am I so transparent?” that raven-haired hunk wondered with a thin brow raised.

“To me you are, baby.” His husband hurried to brag.

They both continued talking as if you weren't there or as if you were there, but it didn't matter that you heard them, given your lack of words. Suguru squatted next to you, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before asking.

“You don’t find me attractive, (Y/N)?”

Your cheeks burned like the sunset that filtered through the window, your mouth dry and lack of answers.

"As I said before, I don't mind if I'm also part of it..." he explained to you, "...I'm a special grade sorcerer after all, between the two of us we can destroy your curse better," he offered, his harsh and long fingers sliding sinfully across the soft skin of your neck.

"Suguru-san...." you mewled at his cynic touch. Being watched with morbid attention by the white-haired.

"How many times have I saved you on missions, how many times have I caught you watching me when you think I'm distracted..." your pupils dilated at the revelation, "how many times haven't I masturbated using your school photo?"

Your head whipped around to face him, astonished as he merely smirked.

"Oh, yes. I have, so many times," he admitted without shame, "...so, would you let me help you as well?"

Your breathing was a mess, when he had gotten so close? His face was centimeters away, you just needed to lean in, and his lips would be tattooed on yours.

"Don't think about it so much dearest, just do it." Your current sensei's breath caressed your ear out of the sudden and his hands on your shoulders gave you the last push you needed.

Your lips merged with Suguru Geto's in a heated kiss, his kisses were different, more patient, better thought out, his tongue licked your lips, and you opened your mouth to let him explore at his leisure, each moan torn from your tired throat sounded each time more needed.

"So that's a, yes?" Satoru asked and between kisses, you said as best you could. "Y-Yes, yes, yes, yes, yeees...."

Something inside you flared and tumbled while accepting their sinful proposition, of becoming Suguru Geto's cocksleeve as well. You nodded your head manically, embarrassingly eager, as if it were the only thing you could do, too stupid and desperate on your own excitement to think coherently.

“Our favorite student, ain’t that right, Sugu?”

The white-haired prodigy praised before standing up and abruptly breaking the kiss to take you with him, pulling you by the arm to get you up, your shaking legs almost letting you fall again when Satoru decided to eat your mouth instead.

You could easily hear Suguru Geto growl low as he huskily replied. “Damn right.”

This glorious man and his husband fucked you there, on the desk of the classroom, taking turns between your ass, your pussy, and your mouth until they were both sure their cocks would fall off. Until your holes weren't squeezing at all and none of the three were sure who the cum leaking out of you belonged to, your voice so worn out that anyone would realize how well your throat had been fucked.

By then it was so late that when you mumbled a weak. "I don't think I can walk," Satoru was quick to offer you a ride and Suguru eagerly agreed, saying things like: we need to take care of our girl, she’s so precious to us. Your beautiful eyes and reddened face littered with patches of cum, lighting up like an advertisement the moment both freely offered you their whole attention as you always dreamed for.

Satoru gently put you on his back, carrying you to the parking lot and then dumping you playfully unceremonious in the back seat, kissing you the entire time while Suguru drove to the address you told him, explaining it between gasps, moaning the words as if your ex-sensei were tearing them out of you one by one.

“Right-…no, I mean left-…” Your adorable, moaned babbling driving both males euphoric.

“Give her a sec, babe-… I need to know if turn right or left-”

“Right.” Satoru replied with such conviction both, you and Suguru’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “I know her address by heart-… after all, she still a pup under my watch.”

Satoru Gojo revealed to your utter annoyance and his husband’s amusement. A thin smirk gracing the raven-haired lip’s indicating he wasn’t even a little surprised.

“I’m not a pup anymore,” you complained between smooches, “I'm about to turn nineteen and become a first-grade sorceress…. I'm a full-fledged adult-”

“Na-ah!” your sensei chuckled, “you’re a brat, still my pup-”

“Our pup.” Suguru cut in from the driver’s seat, and Satoru agreed, “Right.”

"We'll come pick you up at 7 tomorrow," your sensei half ordered, half commented between heated kisses, his greedy lips devouring every patch of skin that his husband hadn't gifted with saliva and bites. "ya heard me, pup?" He stressed snickering, and you remained silent.

"-I'm no longer a little girl you can spoil without anyone suspecting, Gojo-san."

"Gojo-sensei," Satoru clarified, "you have to call me Gojo-sensei, pup."

You shook your head at his notorious control tricks, and slowly crept down from under him until you could open the car door.

"Thank you for the ride, Suguru-san."

Your body lurched to leave the safety of the car when three strong hands held you, two wrapping tightly around your waist and one around your forearm.

Satoru and Suguru teaming up to not let you go made you feel equally flattered as flustered.

"Tomorrow at seven, now we pick you up.” Gojo repeated more seriously and looking in the rearview mirror at Suguru's for some kind of support, his stern gaze forced you to nod.

"Right ...see you tomorrow-" you made a meaningful pause just to prolong their sole attention on you a little longer and aiming for one last playful punch under the belt, you dropped the bomb, "-Senseis."

Their blood boiled like water boils in a gazer before exploding.

"Don't let her go, Satoru." You heard Suguru say before his hand let go of your forearm and in one swift movement, he got out of the car to join you in the back seat.

Too late you realized your mistake.

Your pussy almost screamed when Suguru tried to slip inside. “Too sensitive, pup?”

You nodded weakly and he sighed, showing a little mercy.

“Good thing our girl is gifted with more than one tight hole.” Satoru reminded him, and his husband smirked, smugly.

“Good thing.” He replied before his thick cock stretched your asshole impossibly wide, your hands were held under his big paws against the back of the seat, Satoru slid to the side to have a better view. He loved when his husband got like this. You wanted to act and tease like an adult, they would fuck you like one.

Suguru's violent thrusts were taking the wind out of you with each meeting of flesh, your ass almost raw from so much pounding, your bundle of nerves being stalked with delicious and lazy circular movements by your actual sensei and this man’s husband.

"He’s gonna fill this disobedient student in cum, and this disobedient student is going to eagerly keep it inside, yes?" Satoru ordered and you could only meow inconsolably.

Each thrust of Suguru's hips was harder, more precise, deeper, more meat that you could take filling your pitiful quivering hole. You were close to fainting, your eyes half-closed and breathing labored, dehydrated from sweating so much, tired from squeezing yourself around such a large and long piece of raw cock.

"Su-Suguru-san..."

"Suguru sensei." Satoru corrected.

"Suguru-sensei,” you obeyed.

“Very good,” Gojo praised.

“P-Please come-come… already, ple-please."

Suguru's dark laugh broke through the peaceful night, too amused in teaching you a lesson.

"I'll come only if you promise, you'll put on this lovely plug all night long." From thin air Suguru appeared a pink plug in his sweaty palm, a pretty, shiny thing with a pink diamond adorning the base.

"A plug-.... why?"

"So that, my one and only’s cum stays inside you till morning, of course." It was difficult to hear your sensei over the lewd sound of clapping flesh. “We will take it out tomorrow when we pick you up, pup.”

You couldn't take it anymore, you wanted Suguru sensei to come right away since you couldn’t do it anymore, you were drained, pleasantly exhausted and tired. You wanted to rest, sleep soundly…no! You wanted faint till the sun raised again.

"Y-Yes, I will, I promise!" you heard yourself yelp.

"Good pet." Suguru rasped. He almost sounded elated, but it didn't stop him from shoving himself completely inside of you, over and over and over again, slamming against your gummy walls in one last savage thrust. The breath was knocked out of you and there was when you felt him overflowing you in his warm, thick cum.

"That's it, baby, fill her tummy good, so much milk, so yummy." Satoru encouraged with perverted pride. "So full." The white-haired noted when his palm met the bump in your belly.

Suguru chuckled through his moans, massaging your hips with his thumbs while giving a couple of lazy thrusts before finally slip out. the spasming ring of your ass was a fucking mess, swollen and shiny and brimming in cum. Fuck! they loved the sight.

“Don’t let it slip out-” Suguru rushed to say.

“Go it.” Satoru hurried to plug in the device, your pretty asshole now prettier with a diamond adorning it.

"Just like I've dreamed you for more than three years, (Y/N)." Suddenly Satoru revealed, praising you like an excited child, and Suguru grinned approvingly, passing a thick thumb over the diamond making you jolt a little at how sensitive you were. “Three years is a lot to be blue balled, you really made us wait a lot, pretty girl.” He joined his husband, dreamily.

Maybe you weren’t hearing correctly. No, it couldn't be that they also wanted you as much as you wanted them. It was a mistake, you were really tired and exhausted, that's what.

Hand in hand, they peppered your face in sweet kisses teaming up against you again until there was a big smile on your sweaty face.

“Tomorrow at seven o clock, sharp, (Y/N). Don’t make us wait.”

They didn’t leave until you entered through the doorframe and the door close behind you. The inside of their car reek of spit and sex and cum, and Satoru buried his face in the backseat to breathe in the remaining of your essence and his husband.

“I’m so damn happy, Sugu.” He beamed hugging the backseat like an obsessed lovebird.

Suguru laughed at his antics. “Same.” He admitted more sobered, “I had already lost hope of having her, Toru-”

“I know,” he sniffed plenty, “they are months away from graduating and go to make their lives without our guidance... I was seriously considering kidnapping her-”

“Don’t joke with that, idiot.” Suguru scolded, pulling his husband off the backseat and closing the door, caging the whitehaired fool he loved under his thick, muscular frame and the car door.

"All of those plans will never be mentioned again," Suguru explained, "we must keep this as secret as possible; no one must know."

"Why?" Satoru asked bewildered, "If we had done it years ago while she was a minor, I would agree but she is already an adult-"

"Barely," Suguru interrupted and ran a heavy hand through his straight hair, "besides that's not what I mean." He stated more seriously.

"So?"

"Megumi." Was all he said, and Satoru understood.

"Megumi." the white-haired man repeated, burdensomely.

"Right, so not a word, no teasing or anything." Satoru's eyes betrayed how worried he was.

"Hey, Toru," he tipped his chin up gently, "...everything's gonna be fine, we'll figure it out, don't sweat it, babe." He pampered his man in sweet caresses, his lips pecking his lips with soft, reassuring kisses until his husband smiled again.

"There we go," Suguru praised, "Now on our way since tomorrow we have an early wake up."

They both left but neither of them could sleep, since were utterly excited about what this polyamorous relationship had in store for them.

PART 2

⭕️ In my PATREON you will find NSFW art of this story and lots of content from JJK, exclusive smut fanfiction and animation like THIS ONE . Plus! voting poll privilege for the exclusive Patreon one-shot stories where you can choose the anime, couple pairing and kinky mood for the story, and of course, my eternal and immense gratitude for your support!!!

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faintrustle · 8 months ago

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myswans0ng · 22 days ago

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As Grief Consumes

synopsis: An overconfident prodigy, a chain-smoking-alcohol-chugging brunette, a self-righteous hypocrite, a stoic unimpressed blonde, an overly enthusiastic boy and then there's you... A suicidal maniac.

contents/warning: MDNI, graphic depictions of violence/mature themes, ANGST, mutual pining, eventual smut/smut, slow burn, multiple love interests, character death/s, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, humor, established age of characters is 18yo, jjk x oc, curse user!/jujutsu sorcerer!reader, fem!reader

status: ongoing

also on ao3: here

index: [masterlist] prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2

⋅───⊱ .prologue ⊰───⋅

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Kisaragi,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. It is with great respect for your family’s renowned lineage and reputation, that I extend this formal invitation for your daughter, Ms. Kisaragi to enroll at Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School.

Having had the privilege of witnessing Ms. Kisaragi’s exceptional talents firsthand during her recent fieldwork, I can confidently attest to her remarkable skill and potential as a jujutsu sorcerer.

At Jujutsu High, we aim to provide guidance, and an environment that fosters the development of sorcerers through rigorous training, academic excellence and hands-on experience. With our expertise, we can help Ms. Kisaragi to further refine her abilities and uphold the principles of sorcery.

We deeply value the Kisaragi family's long-standing commitment to jujutsu sorcery, and it would be an honor to welcome your child as a student.

Should you have any questions or wish to discuss her enrollment further, please do not hesitate to contact me directly.

With highest regards,

Masamichi Yaga Principal Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

One.

Just one.

You load the bullet into the chamber. You give it a few long spins, playing with it like a spinning wheel. You count the seconds in your head, mumbling to yourself. The gears inside its mechanism, turning and turning.

6 seconds.

It took six seconds before the revolver stopped spinning on its own. You let out a sigh, exasperated. That took longer than usual.

What does fate have in store for you today?

Is your luck finally running out?

Will it cooperate this time?

How exciting.

You chuckled softly at fate– at yourself, really. The metal— as you brushed your finger on the barrel, felt cool to the touch. A stark contrast on the warm leather grip as you held it so casually like a toy.

You point the end of the barrel at the side of your head, its nozzle pressed against your temple. You have indulged yourself in another self imposed game of Russian roulette. The pressure of its weight almost feels comforting to you now.

You groaned, your tone riddling with annoyance. “If this thing doesn’t go off, I’m gonna have a bad day.”

Then you pressed its hammer. All you have to do now is pull the trigger, like you always do.

You laughed again, a little maniacally this time as you felt your heart rate spike ever so slightly. If you keep doing this, it might get boring at some point. You thought to yourself.

You recall the first time you picked up this unusual game of yours. You were eleven years old, stationed in the outskirts of some country you can’t even remember where exactly anymore. But what you do remember is your parents sending you on a mission in the middle of a warzone. Such a scared little twerp, you were.

You weren’t supposed to be crouched behind the crumbling walls of a war-torn city, tending to soldiers whose bodies were mangled beyond recognition, your small— fragile, bloody, little hands trembling as you poured every bit of your cursed energy into wounds that sometimes were too stubborn to heal or maybe you were just weak. You were a child after all.

A child gifted to wield the curse of the Kisaragi lineage. Oh what a marvelous specimen you are, they say.

You could heal practically anything if you will it hard enough! Your curse was a gift.

It’s a gift!

It’s a wonderful, magnificent gift!

You still remember the first soldier you tried to heal, a man whose face you never saw, the dirt had stuck to his skin. You remembered the blood that pooled beneath him, his groans of agony still sung so distinctly in your ears. You remember your hands pressing against his torso. Tears stained your eyes, but it was nothing compared to the gruesome sight before you. You felt your cursed energy course through him with whatever willpower your little body had.

Then you felt it like an orchestra playing the bridge of a symphony. You felt his pain— every jagged breath, every sharp searing ache of his wounded flesh, the metallic tang in your mouth, the mind-numbing throb in his chest like it was hit by a fucking freight train. You absorbed all of this soldier’s torture in an attempt to heal him.

And he died anyway.

Idiot.

You told yourself it wasn’t your fault, that some wounds were beyond saving. Poor naive you, crying because you failed at the one thing you’re supposed to be good at.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You say to yourself as you tap the barrel on your head on each emphasis.

The gun felt colder now, as if it had sensed the shift in your otherwise manic mood. The weight of your memories pressing harder than the steel.

It was a long night, alone, scared and unable to sleep. Anyone or anything that you knew was far away. You saw these soldiers sitting around a comfortable and warm fire, their conversation, their laughter as hollow as yours is now as they played this silly little game of life & death. Passing around a similar gun. You would hear a click but no bang, then they would laugh, and continue their chatter as if it was nothing. Like a daring game to be played amongst your closest and craziest friends.

A normal kid— person would find this terrifying if they had witnessed such recklessness. But you were no normal kid.

No, no. A normal kid would run and tell an adult about what those dumb soldiers were doing.

But instead, this angered you. You confronted them.

Selfish!

You called them selfish.

Here you were using every ounce of your cursed energy, absorbing the torment of their pain and suffering just so they could live another day and see the faces of their loved ones once more and yet they were toying with their own lives. How incredibly… selfish.

At that time, you expected that these grown-ups– these soldiers would hear the sincerity of your words and the fire in your heart. To realize that what they’re doing is wrong in every way but no.

They laughed at you as if you had said the most ridiculous thing ever.

“A’piece of advice kid, you’ve alr’dy seen da’ shit they do t’us out there,” he narrowed his eyes at you, leaning a little closer. You could still remember the smell of tobacco on his breath. The same one your grandfather smokes. “If ya’ think ‘ya can find a candle of hope that we’ll survive this hell’ole, ‘ya might as’well look for f’kin’ Santa Claus,” he cackled. His friends, clamoring along with him like sheep.

“‘Ya might as well kick off b’fore they beat ‘ya to it!”

Demented.

Laughing.

Sheep.

Now, here you are. No longer that frightened child. Walking on a tightrope, just like they did. You’ve gone off to countless missions, stationed in every possible conflict zone imaginable, and tasked with high-risk operations that demanded every bit of your abilities.

You’ve felt— experienced almost every possible sensation of pain there is, from the sharp sting of a shallow cut to the jarring impact of losing a limb, and even… gunshots. Those still lingered in your veins, in your skin– in your senses, even after all this time. A blow to the head is nothing.

You exhaled sharply. Your finger hovered over the trigger. Your thoughts are as blank as the expression on your face. Your life at your fingertips. So poetic.

So… beautiful.

Click!

Nothing.

“What a bother!” You huffed, rolling your eyes. Just when you thought it was going to be a little interesting today, fate said otherwise.

Well, that’s that. You said to yourself as you swivelled your chair around, tossing the revolver back into your junk drawer.

Disappointing. You sighed.

“Well that was… interesting,” you hear a voice say.

You look up, seeing two figures standing before you, just by the door of your study. One was a slender guy, his spiky hair as white as baby powder and a pair of sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose, giving you a glimpse of his bright— almost blinding blue eyes along with his baby powder lashes.

Next to him, was another slim man but slightly more muscular, his eyes seemingly disinterested or bored. His long dark hair tied into a bun, a few untamed strands straying on the side of his forehead, almost as if it was intentional. His shoulders slumped, making the other appear taller. Next to each other, they looked like the two opposing sides of a yin yang… or the alternating stripes on a zebra.

“Usually people knock before they enter someone’s room,” you said. “Are all Jujutsu High sorcerers this rude?”

The baby powder haired man chuckled. His tone, light and carefree. It was almost annoying. As if he hadn’t just witnessed you playing this dangerous game of yours.

“Well apologies Miss,” he snickered. “But in our defense, the door was already open and we’re on a bit of a schedule here.”

You eyed them both warily, your thoughts elsewhere and you honestly couldn’t care less on what they were here for. You rest your cheek on the palm of your hand, your fingers tapping on the wooden surface of your desk. Baby powder was waiting for you to say something as he kept a friendly eager grin on his face.

His dark-haired companion rolled his eyes and nudged at his friend. “Satoru,” he muttered, his tone tinged with mild annoyance. He turns to you, he gives a small, apologetic nod. “Suguru Geto. It’s nice to meet you. We’re here on Yaga sensei’s request to bring you to Tokyo.”

Ah right. The letter. You should be honored, like your mother said. Master Yaga saw… potential in you.

But you’re a skeptic at heart. Was it really potential?

Or a means to an end? Not that it would be any different with how you’ve been treated your whole life.

“Right…” You draw out. The adrenaline that briefly occupied your chest during your little game was now fading. “Sensei… I guess I have to call him that now too.”

“So you’re Gojo,” You point at the man with white hair then at the other one. “And you’re Geto.”

You’ve heard of them. Hell, who hasn’t?

Their names were passed around here and there by your parents in such high regard, though never directly to praise you, but as measuring sticks, impossible benchmarks for you to reach as if it wasn’t you who was keeping this family afloat.

“Funny,” you continued on. “You’re far from what I had imagined in my head.” You said flatly, standing up from your seat as you looked over the two of them once more. But you can’t say for certain how you expected the one gifted with six eyes would look like.

And his friend, well you can’t really say much other than your small knowledge of his cursed technique.

Gojo chuckled, his confidence unwavering. “It’s nice to meet you too Ms. Kisaragi!” He said, almost jokingly.

“Yaga sensei spoke highly of you, I mean the Kisaragi clan had contributed a lot to sorcerers and the military,” Geto continued, his tone steady and polite. “Sensei regrets that he hadn’t approached your family sooner.”

“Does he now?” You said, your tone neutral. You start to gather your things from your desk, and stuffed them inside your purse, preparing to leave the comfort of your home.

The Kisaragi name carried weight, sure. But you always questioned whether it was respect or fear that kept it in such high regard. Being admirable is one of things they’d call your family but anything your family did or their ‘contributions’ weren’t simply acts of altruism— or out of the kindness of their hearts, they were purposeful, calculated and designed to cement their influence on the people who could afford it.

And you? You were just another piece in this carefully constructed game.

Suguru’s expression remained composed, despite your disinterest in his attempt at flattery. Gojo leaned against the doorframe, his head tilted as a smirk started to form on his lips.

“I’m not gonna lie, Yaga sensei gave us the impression that the Kisaragi were a friendly bunch and your mother seemed very nice when she welcomed us to your lovely home, but…” Gojo’s grin widened as he gestured towards you, sliding down his sunglasses just enough to reveal a glint of amusement in his bright blue eyes, teasingly. “...you? Not so much.”

You let out a long sigh, your hand on your hip as you shook your head, clicking your tongue mockingly as if you were disappointed in yourself. “You’re right! I should be nicer! Wouldn’t want to drag my family’s name through the mud— how’s this?”

You straightened up immediately, your demeanor shifting so seamlessly like you flipped a switch. Your posture becomes more poised and polished. You clasped your hands together lightly, plastering on a cheerful, almost unnatural smile.

“Oh Mr. Gojo and Mr. Geto,” you began. Your voice so sickeningly sweet and polite. “It’s such an honor to meet the two of you. I hear nothing but good things about you both, and I must say, you truly exceeded my expectations. Thank you so much for gracing me with your presence today!”

Suguru’s brows lifted slightly, taken aback by the sudden change in your behavior, unsure how to react. Gojo blinked for a second before breaking into fits of laughter, clearly amused.

It seems that it doesn’t take much for the baby powder sorcerer to get entertained. His friend, on the other hand, was utterly confused.

“Was that better?” you said, your tone laced with sarcasm. “Now if you don’t mind, can we leave?”

Before they could answer, you walked towards the door. Eager to leave the room that you would’ve left with your brain splattered on the walls. Then you hear Geto speak, stopping you in your tracks.

“So what’s your name?”

“Huh, that’s right. Yaga sensei forgot to mention it,” Gojo chimed in. “Care to tell us your name? I mean, we’ll be around each other a lot so might as well right?” He grinned.

You paused, your hand hovering over the door frame. For a brief moment, you felt like a deer caught in the headlights. Your name. They wanted to know your name. It was a simple question.

You had two names. The one that belonged to you.

And the one that carried your honor, your family’s expectations, their legacy— your curse.

It was at the tip of your tongue. It was the name that was drilled into you to answer with, the one that represented everything you’re supposed to be.

Yuna Kisaragi. The bearer of the Kisaragi curse.

The Kisaragi’s wealth wasn’t measured in money or their business ventures. It was you. A culmination of generations upon generations of meticulous planning and selective breeding. They didn’t need vaults of gold or prized possessions, when they had you.

You aren’t just one person, you are a legacy to behold of countless Yunas before you. The source of all their fortune.

Eleven Yunas, to be exact. Eleven women reduced to a role they had to play, a placeholder for their ambitions.

Your name was a beautifully crafted lie to protect you, so they say. It was easier that way, they said. A single false name meant fewer questions, fewer loose ends, and fewer ways for anyone to connect you to your true identity to the Kisaragi fortune.

Most days you forget you had a real name. Not that it mattered anyway. No one knew what it was except you.

You turned slightly, looking over your shoulder. A small, practiced smile curved on your lips, one you had perfected over years of appeasing those who have raised you and those around you.

“Yuna,” you said smoothly. The name slips from your tongue with an almost mechanical ease.

“Are we good now?” You asked, as you turned towards the door again.

Geto tilted his head, his sharp eyes observing you, you could almost feel it burning on your back. “You’re taking that gun with you?”

So he noticed.

“I’m not one to know much about women’s accessories and things they keep in their purse, it’s none of my business, really but that’s a pretty bold accessory to carry around, don’cha think?”

Gojo remained silent, as if to let his friend address the elephant in the room. I mean, they did walk in on you about to off yourself, it’s stupid to think that they’ve forgotten about it or let alone not notice that you had shoved it in your purse- not that you were being sneaky about it either.

You glanced back at them, trying to read if they were serious. Their gazes were nothing but solemn and even a little curious.

“Caught me,” You shrugged mockingly. “Here, I’ll put it in this little drawer.” You slid open the small end table next to the door and dropped it inside before closing it shut, waving it off with a smile.

“Were you really going to off yourself?” Geto asked bluntly, he watched you with a humorless expression, his sternness palpable.

His— concern almost made you laugh. Instead your lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Lucky for you guys, it didn’t go off,” you said. “Would’ve been so rude of me if it did and you came all this way for nothing tsk tsk,” you clicked your tongue, shaking your head in ridicule.

“I mean what would my mother say?” You continue to mock. Then you turn on your heel, scoffing softly.

Sure enough, as you walked out the door of your study, Gojo and Geto exchanged a knowing look.

Gojo shrugged, chuckling at the absurdity of it all, and Geto can’t help but feel a migraine coming on, unsure if it was due to the 4 hour drive to get to your estate or you were right about the mere possibility that they would have gotten an earful from Yaga if they found you dead.

But one thing is for certain, you were going to be a handful.

[ comment if you want to be added in the taglist for future updates ]

a/n: i came up with the title and story while i was listening to 'As Grief Consumes' by Peter Gundry, i highly recommend it...

also on ao3: here

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xxsabitoxx · 11 months ago

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Male House Wife! Suguru x Hardworking Husband Satoru x Hardworking Wife Reader... hear me out...

Male House Wife! Suguru, who wakes up snuggled between Satoru and You. Both of your heads on his chest and arms tangled around his torso.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who struggles to wake both you and Satoru up, you have a busy day ahead after all.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who is able to free himself from your grasps, only to watch you and Satoru gravitate towards each other.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who always chuckles to himself as he heads to the bathroom to get the shower going for you and Satoru to start your day.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who gets you up first, tugging you from Satoru’s iron grip so he can carry you to the bathroom. Setting you down on the counter to slowly wake you up by showering you in soft kisses.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who undresses you from the little clothes you’re wearing and gets you in the shower. Leaving to go wake up the bear known as Satoru.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who drags Satoru into the bathroom just as you’re getting out, laughing softly as Satoru perks up a bit at the sight of your bare body.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who forces Satoru into the shower claiming that he simply does not have time to do anything other than get ready. All the while he's tugging you and your towel-clad body back into your shared bedroom.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who eats you out on the bed while Satoru showers because he just can't help himself. Only to be interrupted by Satoru's loud whine from the shower about not being included.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who drags you back into the bathroom so Satoru isn't left out, who gets you back in the shower so he can clamber in as well just so he can take care of both of you.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who hushes you when you tell him it would have saved a lot of time and water had you three just done this in the first place... as if it isn't an every morning occurrence.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who dries off quickly so he can go make breakfast and pack your lunches while you and Satoru get ready for the mission the higher-ups planned.

Male House Wife! Suguru, who sees the two of you off for the day, giggling to himself about the slight limp to Satoru's walk and the noticeable tremble in your legs.

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levi-4uckerman · 2 months ago

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╰┈➤ satoru gojo x reader // reader self insert // prologue here

╰┈➤ like ghosts in the snow // synopsis: Two years ago, you vanished from Tokyo and its world of curses entirely. First grade status be damned-- you were gone without a trace. Left to raise the son of the strongest sorcerer in a world far removed from the dangers you and his father both had been subject to. You escaped the endless battle of curses vs man, the burden of a life sopping wet with death and tragedy. Here, in the solitude of these snow-covered mountains, you were finally safe.

Right?

╰┈➤ CH 1 TWs: male masturbation, explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of sex, original characters used, secret pregnancy, mention of young children, mention of past character death, possible manga spoilers, blah blah blah. enjoy :)

╰┈➤ see story timeline here, if you wanna!

╰┈➤ next chappy :)

✎ side note before we dig in! I know y'all hate a YN so the reader has been given a random japanese name. welcome to ur new life as Shiori Myoji :)

Somewhere out west, 2018...

You sat alone in your cabin, staring at the flickering fire... The wind howled outside, shaking the windows and piling snow high against the panes. You barely noticed. Winter had come early this year, though the townsfolk chalked it up to the unpredictable nature of the mountains. You held a half-empty teacup, the liquid long since gone cold. Your fingers trembled slightly as you gripped its handle, though you told yourself it was just from the chill in the air.

The fire crackled on, and your thoughts drifted like smoke, pulling you backward through time as you stared into the hypnotizing flames.

...

Tokyo, Japan- December 2014.

The first time you saw Satoru Gojo as human was at the ceremony following Suguru's death, a private event held at Tokyo Jujutsu High after hours. There weren’t many guests, but the crowd was big enough that he hadn’t seen you at first. You’d stood at the edge, out of the way, your umbrella shielding you from the rain pouring down as if the sky itself was in mourning, too.

You hadn’t planned to approach him. What could you have said? The strongest sorcerer in the world, staring at the ground as though he could will himself to fall through it– what words could you possibly offer? Anything that crossed your mind felt hollow, tasted meaningless on your tongue.

Yet, still, you approached. Those bright blue eyes had landed on you and you were drawn in, like a moth to flame. Your feet were moving before you realized what you’d done.

“Shi-chan, you’re staring,” he chided, his voice sounding hollow. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“I don’t,” you replied, aware that you both knew it was a lie.

It always was.

He smiled, soft but genuine– like he was just grateful for your company. You nodded, letting him take what he wanted from the gesture.

The relationship you’d had after wasn’t supposed to mean anything. A month of stolen moments, grief shared in the only ways you knew how. You sought comfort in each other’s arms, filling the empty spaces that Suguru had left behind. Late night texts. Solo outings. You told yourself that it wasn’t real, that it was just a way to cope. Was that a lie, too?

That time together had changed everything. And two months later, when you realized you were pregnant, you knew that there was no going back.

The sound of Haruto stirring in his sleep pulled you back to the present. The cabin’s quiet stillness wrapped tightly around you as you set down your teacup, your fingers still slightly shaking as you stepped toward your sleeping son, curled around his stuffed rabbit. He was so small, so peaceful– and yet, every time you looked at him, it was like staring into the past. Your big, scary past.

His hair, white as the snow outside… his eyes, that same piercing shade of blue that gazed at you from across classrooms, found you in crowded hallways buried deep in your memory… Sometimes, if you looked at him just right, he even had his father’s stubborn smirk. Sometimes it was enough to make your heart ache.

You didn’t regret leaving– you wouldn’t let yourself. You’d made the choice for Haruto, for Satoru, for humanity– he deserved a childhood free from the crushing weight of the Gojo name, free from the dangers of being born into a world of curses. And Satoru…

He didn’t need the burden of fatherhood, another anchor to his already heavy chains.

He didn’t stop you when you left.

Your breath caught in your throat. You told yourself not to think about him, not to wonder where he was or what he was doing. You’d left him behind, you’d left everything behind, but the truth lingered. Sharp and bitter in the back of your throat. You’d run because you were afraid. Afraid for the part of you that wanted to believe that Satoru might have chosen you and the life growing inside of you over everything else.

But you’d seen the threads of fate. Tangled, cruel, impossible to ignore. You left because you couldn’t bear to watch him choose the world over you.

The fire snapped sharply, loud enough to make you jump. The flames cast dancing shadows against the walls, and you felt a familiar prickling at your scalp as you watched them move. It wasn't a vision, but a feeling, a suggestion that something may be on the horizon. You closed your eyes, trying to will fate’s whisper into a conversation, but it remained quiet– imperceptible. Glimpses came to you in flickering waves, an apparition at the edge of your mind… someone tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes like the sky…

Your chest tightened as you pushed the thought away with a gasp, forcing yourself to focus on the crackling fire and the sound of howling wind outside.

“Shiori,” an older voice called softly from the adjoining room. “Are you still awake? It’s well past midnight.”

“Aya-san,” you replied, withdrawing your hand from your son’s hair. “Did I wake you?”

“No, child. The storm did.” Aya stepped lightly into the room, moving with the ease of someone used to late-night watches. She lowered herself onto the armchair by Haruto, dimming the table lamp and casting soft shadows across her face.

Aya Takahashi, formerly Zenin– she’d sought an escape from the troubling world of jujutsu, same as you. Born into the infamous Zenin clan with a powerful technique, she had built her life around the expectations of her lineage… until she met her late husband. He was a non-sorcerer whom she'd fallen in love with devastatingly quickly. Their love was defiant in the eyes of the Zenins, and Aya chose him over their approval. They ran away together, knowing the cost of their love, only for her spiteful relatives to come for them both, bringing their marriage to a sudden, violent end.

Aya lost her husband that day.

She ran away to this sleepy, mountainside town out west, hoping that its wild, untamed cursed energy would mask her signature. For thirty years, she had been successful. When she came across you and Haruto, barely ten months old at the time, she saw herself in your struggle, and she knew... she couldn’t walk away.

And gods bless her soul, she didn’t.

Aya had become such an unassuming yet steady presence in your life—a former sorceress who had left her old life behind and found solace in this small, secluded town just like you had.

The arrangement had begun with practicality, but Aya’s quiet strength and experience had turned her into a figure of comfort, almost a guardian. Her motherly tendencies extended to you as much as to Haruto, though she rarely showed her cards outright.

Aya studied you for a moment, her expression knowing. “Something tells me you haven’t slept yet,” she hummed, reaching to turn on the television as if to settle in for a watchful night.

You studied her with a hint of reluctance, knowing exactly what she intended. “Aya-san, you really don’t have to—”

“Go and rest, Shiori.” Her voice was gentle, but her tone left no room for debate. “I’ll be here if the boy wakes.”

“But I—,”

The look she gave you, one full of quiet insistence, spoke louder than any further protests you could make.

With a resigned sigh, you shook your head and accepted the fate she’d laid out for you, the comfort of her presence an unspoken balm. You relented and bid her goodnight, resting a comforting hand on Haruto’s little head before walking away.

Tokyo, Japan- 2018.

In Tokyo, Satoru Gojo was feeling a similar kind of anxiety.

Ryomen Sukuna had a vessel. The thought of it alone made his jaw clench tightly. It was unprecedented, unpredictable, and as far as he was concerned, a major pain in the ass. There were no protocols for this sort of thing— well, maybe one, but that was the last thing he wanted. “I can’t let them kill him,” he muttered to himself, tone sharp as nails. “He’s just a kid.”

He leaned back in his office chair, staring out at the Tokyo skyline with mild interest. His head pulsed with a day-old migraine as he studied the tiny flares of cursed energy erupting in short bursts across the city's grid. The presence of curses and the activity of curse users had become more erratic than usual, flickering in the depths of the city like embers waiting to be ignited. It had only gotten worse since Sukuna's fingers entered the equation; like all of Japan was holding its breath. Even with his technique, Satoru was struggling to keep up with the endless spikes of energy on the horizon. His head throbbed, his senses constantly assaulted until finally, he pulled the blinds closed.

Satoru sighed. He hadn't been this on edge in a very long time, not since...

He dismissed the thought, reaching for a bottle of painkillers nearby and rattling it in a last-ditch effort to dull the throbbing in his skull. He popped two in his mouth and swallowed them dry before running a broad palm over his face, a low groan slipping out as he reached his lips. "This is fucking stupid," he muttered, voice muffled by his hand.

With a sigh, he pushed himself out of the chair and stretched his long arms above his head, joints stiff and aching from too many hours of vigilance and too little rest. He hated to even consider leaving campus, knowing that Yuuji-- no. Sukuna was here. Yuuji had done well in controlling the king of curses since they had started training, but the thought of leaving him alone still left Satoru uneasy. Could he really turn his back on him?...

Yes, he decided, as his eyes caught sight of his phone screen flashing the time: 3:55pm. He hadn't slept a wink in over 40 hours, a reckless oversight even by his standards. His Six Eyes needed rest, and he'd be no use to anyone-- especially against Sukuna --if he burned out completely. I can leave. Just for a few hours.

With a tired sigh, he dialed his assistant. “Ijichi,” he sang half heartedly into his cell, his voice missing some of its usual playfulness. “I’m going home.”

Ijichi's protests were immediate, though muffled through the receiver. Satoru didn't bother listening. He slipped the phone into his back pocket without even hanging up, ignoring the last few sputters of "--but Gojo-san!"

Stretching his limbs once more, he felt the weight of exhaustion settling into his bones. It wasn't like him to abandon his post so early into the afternoon, but he wouldn't be of any use in this state. Half-blind, staggering through a haze of pain. The pounding behind his eyes was growing unbearable, his senses dulling with each passing minute.

With one last glance at the skyline, Satoru exhaled, letting his shoulders drop just slightly. It was strange, the guilt that had begun creeping in these days, as if his raw determination alone would be enough to protect humanity from Sukuna's dark influence. But at his core, he knew that if he wasn't sharp, if he wasn't fully there, then he was no more than a tired body standing watch.

Humanity deserved better than that.

Yuuji deserved better than that.

In his apartment, Satoru wandered thoughtlessly into his bedroom, tossing aside his phone, his wallet, his blindfold, and all of the other little trinkets he carried on the job. The blinds were drawn and the room was dark; still, he manipulated the pitch black space seamlessly, thankful for the small mercy of darkness. He migrated to his shower-- something else he'd been putting off.

The hot stream of water-- scalding against his porcelain skin --was healing. Following the contours of his body, mapping the planes of his muscles as it traveled across his skin. The rich scent of his body wash hung thickly in the air, cutting through 40 hours' worth of sweat and frustration. With a sigh, he bowed his head, letting it all fall into his eyes, mouth.

What the fuck had happened to him?

Being alone was something he still struggled with. He'd once thought of Suguru as the only person who could possibly understand the isolation that followed his responsibilities as the strongest. But Suguru was gone, had been gone longer even than he'd been dead, and all that was left now was... Satoru and his sadness? Longing? He didn't know what he was feeling.

Remorse?

"You promise you won’t regret this?"

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Eyes snapping open, he reared his head back. Infinity kept him from losing his balance, thankfully, but didn't stop the way he wobbled a bit on his feet with the emotional whiplash he'd just received from that memory. That voice.

He exhaled, long and slow, steam swirling in the dimmed light. His pulse quickened just slightly as the memory returned to him in living color, as if he were reliving it-- naked and vulnerable.

A laugh-- soft like morning mist. Perfume dancing across his senses, igniting warmth within his chest. He felt her presence even here, in the sanctuary of his mind.

Shiori Myoji. The Clairvoyance User.

The quiet, mundane memory came to him suddenly-- like his pain had picked the lock to a door he'd forgotten long ago. She was sitting on the edge of a windowsill in the Jujutsu High dorms, delicate fingers cradling a cup of tea. He sat beside her, much too close, with a large hand resting on her covered thigh. She was blushing, and he remembered the way it made his heart race. Has anyone ever done that before?

Has anyone ever done that... since?

"You're incorrigible," she scolded lightly, though the light smile upon her lips told him all that he needed to know. With a glance toward the halls, assuring there would be no witnesses, she leaned into him and he did the same, capturing her mouth in a tender kiss.

Fuck, she was always so soft. So calm. The kind of calm he pretended that he was, but had never really felt. Only in these moments, did she ever seem to look at him. Usually, her gaze extended into a space that he couldn't see-- a space that no one occupied, as if she were seeing something that he couldn't.

The water hit his shoulders harder now, as if trying to call him back to the present. He straightened, shaking his head as if that could wash away the memory of her. As if it were something that could be scrubbed away as easily as sweat and blood from his skin.

But she lingered, as she always seemed to do. She'd been away for too long for him to still think of her. She was a distraction at the time, something they both craved desperately. That is what she was, wasn't she? His distraction. His excuse. His anchor when the weight of Suguru's passing had threatened to tilt him off-balance. She was his-- then, now, whether she knew it or not.

His, because he couldn't let her be anything else.

Yes, a voice in his head purred. Yours, it agreed— languid and sweet, sounding suspiciously like her.

She was an addiction he’d been more than willing to rid himself of— even if it hurt like pouring salt into a wound. He’d love to say that he didn’t feel it, or that it paled in comparison to the pain of killing his best friend, but that simply wasn’t true. He’d grown attached to her warmth, her quiet strength, the mutual understanding of their own responsibilities as sorcerers. She’d been an enigma to him in high school, a close friend as an adult, and now? A ghost. A shadow. Someone who knew him intimately, someone whose taste hadn’t left his mouth since the last time his tongue was inside of her— because only he knew her so intimately, too.

Only he had been privy to the way that her brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and disgust when he said something lewd, the way her cheeks would darken at the slightest mention of their extracurricular affairs, igniting a fire in the pit of Satoru’s belly each time. Only he got to see the spit-slick part of her lips when she came, her wet heat wrapped so tightly around his member that he’d nearly blacked out at the force of his own orgasm. Only he knew that it was like that every. Single. Time. with her, like they were both squirming virgins experimenting with strange new feelings.

Except Satoru had never felt so enthralled with a lover before, and he never would again— something he’d come to terms with after trying and failing to fill the void she left in his life as his ‘distraction’. That’s all she was.

Right?

“Fuck,” he muttered through clenched teeth as he recalled her image in near-perfect clarity, spread out above his sheets— moaning softly, gasping his name when he fucked her just right. “Fucking shit.”

Satoru took himself in his hand, letting the water cascade down his back as he hunched over, pressing his forehead against the cool tile as he recalled more. Her dainty fingers tangled in his hair as she writhed beneath him, bucking her hips against his pelvis and fucking herself on his cock. Broken whispers of ‘Satoru, please,’ as her walls contracted around him, milking his seed into her waiting womb. The taste of her sweat on his tongue, salty and sweet, while he sucked his little purple love bites into her skin. He’d spell out his fucking name with them if he could.

He’d carve it into her flesh with his teeth if she’d let him.

Feelings Satoru had never experienced before her— or after her — flooded his senses. The hollow ache of desperation as he craved her warmth, the bitter taste of jealousy as he thought of her with anyone else, the crushing weight of grief when he remembered she was gone—

“Fucking miss you,” he spat, pumping desperately into his own fist, slick with prespend. “Fucking miss the way you feel.”

In his mind’s eye, Shiori writhes underneath him, pinned to the mattress by his weight. Her fingers tangle into his hair as he fucks into her, hard and fast, carving out a space just for him. He’s grunting along with his thrusts, her pretty little gasps coming out in broken hiccups. They’re hiding in the campus dorms again and they have to be quiet; she muffles a loud cry against his shoulder, teeth baring down into his flesh as she locks her legs around his waist with surprising ferocity, holding him so deep inside of her, and oh shit they forgot a condom—

“Fuck,” he hissed out in a sharp breath, tightening his grip on himself. The exhaustion in his bones temporarily forgotten, Satoru slammed a fist onto the wall above his head, a satisfying little crack! coming from the tile. His orgasm had nearly taken his breath away in its intensity, years of frustration and repressed feelings finally coming to a sore, bursting head.

He stood panting in the shower stall, watching the physical evidence of his longing swirl down the drain. His head pulsed with every beat of his heart, the effort he’d exerted not mixing kindly with his already throbbing migraine. He groaned, running a hand through his slick hair, and subsequently flicking water onto the wall behind him. Fucking Shiori, he muttered to himself.

Head swimming, Satoru emerged from the muggy bathroom several minutes later. He was still stewing over his momentary loss of control. He could have anyone he wanted, and here he was, fisting his cock to memories of an old flame. A ghost from his past.

He’d buried her in the place he’d buried Suguru— except, the ache was different knowing that her physical form still roamed this earth. Somewhere. He could find her, if he wanted to. Maybe she'd be able to tell him what the fuck he should do, how the fuck he was going to save a 16 year old boy with an eons-old curse living inside of him.

A plan began to unfurl inside of him, unwillingly. A first grade sorceress, gone without a trace... But all cursed energy left residuals, didn’t it? Would it really be so hard for the Six Eyes to follow her clues, hunt her down, and bring her back home?

It wouldn’t be hard, but it wouldn’t be right, he thought.

Last he heard, Shiori had fled west to study cursed energy manifestation in other regions. It was a convincing cover up, but given her technique and her history of omitting bigger details, he'd always assumed there were other implications to why and where she'd gone. Did she know what was happening in Tokyo? Did she see something that he didn't?

Of course she fucking did, he scoffed, slipping a t-shirt over his bare shoulders. When didn't she? She always knew more than she let on. It had frustrated him back then, and it frustrated him even more now. The idea that she might have seen this, predicted it-- Sukuna, Yuuji, the spiraling chaos of Tokyo's curses --and had chosen to leave anyway gnawed at him.

The truth was, he didn't want to think about why she left. Shit, he didn't want to think about her at all. But her name sat heavy on his chest now, a quiet itch he couldn't continue to ignore. If anyone could make sense of the impossible, it was her. And yet... she was gone. She'd left without so much as a goodbye, or a trace worth following. Maybe that was all of the explanation he really needed.

Maybe that was all of the closure he’d ever get.

With a low groan, Satoru flopped onto his bed, stretching his arms out wide. He didn't get tired often, but exhaustion was settling into his bones. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness settle over him, the plan that he refused to admit beginning to stir in his minds' eye once more, unwelcome and persistent. He could find her. If he wanted to. If he needed to.

This is Chapter 1 of a multi-chapter fic to be crossposted to AO3. Taglist below as requested. @starlightglimmersworld @mccookiemonster @leilakaro @certainduckanchor @itsbellablue-blog @shokosbunny @hyookka @drogonfruitzen

#gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #smut #JJK smut #JJK s1 #JJK oc #reader insert #pregnancy fic #pregnancy fantasy

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