#getou is so fine I can't breathe

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

Peeping on your neighbor DILF!Getou Suguru [prev]

[cw: voyeurism & implied daddy kink(?) idk tbh you decide]

Irises speckled with shimmering sapphires, deep as amethyst, swirling in pools of lilac. A fringe of onyx, long tendrils dipping over a horizon of golden bronze.

“Hey, so I was wondering…”

A taut abdomen rippling with each breath—muscles carved sharp, the dip of his waist a lighter beige contrasted by a dark trail of hair leading down his navel. Broad, firm pecs teasing a softness despite the solid planes beneath.

“When are ya gonna confess to peeping on the guy?”

Deltoids flexing, obliques framing a trim waist. Triceps bulging, a testament to strenuous lifting, cardio, or something far more sinful.

“Gotta drop the bomb at some point, hm?”

Lustrous black hair cascading elegantly along a sculpted back, adorned with a splattering of moles. The glint of black titanium gauges, a thin silver chain, and the gleam of a barbell piercing at his chest catching the dim light.

“Hey, don’t just leave me hanging.”

Sometimes, the precise linework of seaweed-green ink peeks from beneath tight boxer briefs—a twisting dragon wrapping around thick quads. Quads that curve into a plump, cushioned—

“Hey!”

“Huh—what?” You blink, reality snapping back into focus. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“Yes! Where’d you go just now? Don’t tell me you were daydreaming again.”

“No…”

Yu hums in faux consideration before pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “I’ve never seen a case this severe before in my entire career. You’re showing all the symptoms of OGD.”

You shoot him a confused look. His expression turns grave, lips pulling tight. “Obsessive Getou Disorder. And I’m afraid… it might be incurable.”

You laugh nervously, already grasping for a distraction. But Yu anticipates your escape route like a seasoned chess player, moving faster than you can react.

He snaps his fingers, three sharp cracks in quick succession. Twisting his wrist, he waves his hands dramatically as if casting a spell. “Compelling you back to reality. Return to our realm.”

Yu’s big brown eyes blink up at you expectantly, ever sparkling with mischief. His brow quirks, and you can’t resist ruffling his crop of messy hair.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening.” You pat the cushion beside you, inviting him to sit. Yu, ever the enthusiastic puppy, eagerly flops down.

Every time you finish a shift together, he chases you out of work like an excitable dog, hyping up elaborate plans—outfits, venues, guest lists—only for the night to inevitably end curled up in your apartment, eating pizza, watching movies, and gossiping. Not that you mind. It’s an outlet for your… fixation.

You grab the remote, scrolling aimlessly through endless shows and movies. Beside you, crinkling sounds announce Yu unearthing the snacks from earlier. The sweet scent of cinnamon wafts into the air.

“You up for anything in particular? Feels like we’ve watched pretty much everything at this point.”

“Mmfh, y’know wha’? We’re no’ fish again. Les’ do somethin’ bold.” Yu’s words are nearly swallowed by the honey bun he’s chewing, muffled and garbled between bites.

“Come again? And this time, without the sugar-coated mumbling.”

Yu dramatically swallows, throat protruding as he gulps too fast. Wiping the crumbs from the corners of his mouth, he tries again. “Let’s be bold tonight. Instead of stuffing our faces, we should both text our y’know…” He trails off, making exaggerated kissy noises.

Your stomach flips. “Okay…”

Yu lights up, snatching both your phones from the coffee table. Before he can act, you raise a hand. “Hold up.”

You retrieve two plastic shot glasses, a pitcher of juice, and a bottle of tequila. “Some liquid courage might be helpful, yes?”

Yu pouts but is already pouring generous shots, the tequila teetering at the brim. You know he’s just as nervous as you are.

“Three, two, one—bottoms up!”

Your throat burns, the juice barely easing the sting. Staring blankly at the open text thread with Getou, you hesitate.

“How’s this?” Yu tilts his phone for you to see.

Haibara Yu: Hey, Ken! Hope I’m not bothering you. I remember you were baking bread today, and I’m free—need a hand?

“Perfect. A casual excuse to see him while being forward. Now send.”

Yu wavers, his finger hovering over the button. A split-second of doubt, then—

“Can’t! You do it, quick!” He shoves the phone at you like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Laughing, you press send. Yu gulps down another shot in retaliation.

“What do you have typed out? Don’t make me suffer alone—”

Three loud dings cut him off. Yu’s phone vibrates. You both freeze.

“No way,” Yu whispers.

You flip his phone over and huddle together, shoulder to shoulder, to read the messages:

Nanami Kento:  Haha, nice to hear from you, Haibara. Perfect timing—I just started proofing the yeast. I’d love for you to join me, might help this go smoother. Would you like me to send my address?”

Your jaw drops. “Yu. This man is whipped for you. Barely a minute and he’s already inviting you over.”

Yu can’t contain his grin, quickly typing back:

Haibara Yu: I don’t know what proofing yeast means, but I’m sure you’ll teach me!

Yes, send it now—I’ll head over ASAP :))

You groan theatrically. “Great, now you’re abandoning me.”

Yu snatches your phone, eyes scanning your screen. “You haven’t even drafted a text yet?”

“No…”

His fingers fly across his screen, typing something out—until, suddenly, his expression shifts. The look of concentration melts away, replaced by a devilish glint in his eyes.

“Actually, you don’t have to.”

He tilts your phone toward you, revealing the reason for his sudden change in demeanor.

One new message.

Getou Suguru: Hello, neighbor! Just wondering if you’d like to come over and help me cook for the girls since you proved yourself capable in the kitchen (thank you again).

They’ve been asking about you—they’d love to see you.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

Yu grins wickedly, typing furiously.

You: I’d love to! I can be over in a few.

I’d love to see the girls, although I hope they’re not the only ones excited to see me…

You lunge for your phone, but Yu holds it out of reach, laughing.

“Just give it a second—just watch. One more sec—okay, here!”

Getou Suguru: Sounds good. And of course, I’m excited to see you as well, if not more.

Be sure to text me before you head over.

In a span of minutes, you and Yu go from lazily sprawled on the couch to full-blown panic mode, securing dates with the men you’d been fawning over for what feels like an eternity. The realization sends a surge of adrenaline through you, a buzz that has you both scrambling through the apartment—showering at record speed, yanking outfits from hangers, fixing your hair with practiced precision, and spritzing on just the right amount of fragrance.

The chaos leaves your bedroom and bathroom looking like a war zone. Clothes are tossed haphazardly across the bed and floor, makeup products lie toppled on the vanity, and an army of skincare bottles clutters the bathroom counter. But none of that matters—that’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, the only thing on your mind is making sure you both look impeccable.

Before heading out, you give each other a final once-over. Yu has swapped his usual casual wear for sleek black straight-leg pants and a fitted white shirt, the fabric hugging his frame just enough to be noticeable. At your insistence, he’s kept it simple, and you know you made the right call. With his messy brown hair adding a carefree touch, the outfit is the perfect blend of boy-next-door charm and just the right edge, thanks to the black leather zip-up jacket left open.

“You’re giving bad-boy-next-door,” you tease, stepping back to admire your handiwork.

Yu, predictably, flushes a deep shade of red. You smirk, knowing full well that Nanami is going to have a field day with that reaction later. Kudos to you.

“We’re in this together,” Yu says, raising a determined thumbs-up.

You chuckle, sending your final message.

You: Heading over!

𓂃۶ৎ

Getou’s apartment door cracks open just as you lift your fist to knock. Your grin falters, lips curving downward in a sudden frown.

“What’s wrong? Something on my shirt? Or are you just disappointed to see me?”

Your heart lurches at the genuine confusion laced in his soft voice. His dark brows knit together, a small pout forming on his lips as he glances down at himself, smoothing out his black turtleneck and shifting his weight in his brown corduroy trousers.

You reach out instinctively, your hand brushing against his forearm, stilling his restless fingers as they pick at his sweater.

“Aw, no, Suguru. You look great,” you reassure him. “I just thought I’d get to see you in that cute frilly apron again.”

His brows shoot up in surprise before his violet eyes glimmer with amusement.

“Ah, so that’s what had you looking so forlorn.” He steps back, gesturing for you to come inside. “How about you say more about how great I look?”

“Don’t get cocky now.” You huff, perching yourself on a stool at the kitchen island.

Getou strolls over, leaning against the counter with his elbows propped up, his face resting in his palms. You glance around, noticing the eerie quiet that has settled over the apartment. It’s spotless—almost suspiciously so. Usually, there’s a telltale trail of toys left behind by his daughters, but today? Not a single one in sight.

“Where are the girls? Are they here?”

“Mhm,” he hums, retrieving a clean glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. He places it in front of you, setting it atop a coaster before wiping down the space in front of you with practiced precision. “Bribed them with new dolls so I could clean.”

You snort. “I don’t know what to call out more—your obsessive cleaning or your blatant bribery of your own children.”

He ducks into a drawer, rummaging for something. “I never claimed to be a good man.”

When he straightens, he turns around slowly, revealing the infamous pink frilly ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron draped around his neck. He blinks down at you, lashes fluttering flirtatiously.

“Tie me up?”

“Come here, dork.”

Getou feigns offense but turns obediently, sweeping his long hair over one shoulder. A few loose strands remain, and you gently trail your fingers along the nape of his neck, smoothing them over. His hair is softer than you expect, and when your fingers brush his skin, he shivers.

Your hands move to his waist, tying the apron strings into a neat bow. You pat his shoulder lightly.

“And don’t undersell yourself,” you murmur. “Somehow finding the time to keep an orderly home and spoiling your daughters? Sounds like a good man to me.”

He turns, his long hair cascading elegantly down one side of his face. He smiles at you, his almond-shaped eyes crinkling shut, and you silently thank the divine forces that allowed you to be so well acquainted with such a beautiful man.

“And now, you’re not only a good man,” you tease, “but the perfect housewife.”

His brow arches. “Oh, really?” A smirk tugs at his lips before he bends down, retrieving another pink frilly apron. He unfolds it, revealing the embroidered words: ‘The Kisser.’

“Oh—I—” You stumble over your words.

“Did I forget to mention? It came in a set.” He steps forward, slipping the apron over your head. “This one’s for you.”

Wordlessly, you turn so he can tie you up. The moment he finishes, he leans in, voice dropping to a hushed murmur.

“Now, one could argue that you are now my perfect housewife.”

“Mhm.” You wag your finger at him, beckoning him closer. “Come here, and I’ll tell you what I think about that.”

He leans in, hovering just above you, his face mere inches away. Up close, you can see the soft crinkles by his eyes, the slow curve of his lips.

“I think I quite like my new role, Suguru,” you whisper. “Let me fulfill my duty.”

Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging him forward. You press a soft kiss to his lips, allowing him to deepen it. He licks over your bottom lip before biting at it, making you sigh into his mouth. Before you can pull away completely, he captures your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. The affectionate look in his eyes nearly brings you to your knees.

You clear your throat, trying to rein in the conversation.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight?”

“Chicken alfredo pasta,” he says, straightening your apron. “The girls love it, but I don’t make it often because it’s practically a heart attack on a plate.”

“So, a special night?”

“The special-est.”

You bring a large pot of salted water to a rolling boil as Getou collects the ingredients. He works efficiently, rinsing the chicken cutlets before slicing and seasoning them with practiced ease. You fall into an easy rhythm—while you heat the frying pan, he drizzles olive oil; you melt butter, he finely slices garlic; you pour in cream, he grates parmesan. The pasta cooks as the chicken sizzles, and the sauce thickens to a velvety consistency.

While the meal comes together, you wipe off the chopping board, ready to cut the parsley garnish. But the leafy pieces refuse to separate, sticking stubbornly to your blade. Frustration wells up, and you hunch over, applying more pressure in an attempt to force the pieces apart.

A warm weight presses against your shoulder, accompanied by the scent of coconut. Getou’s arms encircle yours, his rough palms resting over your hands.

“Looks like you need a little guidance,” he murmurs, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

You scoff, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yes, please, help me. I’m just a helpless damsel in distress.”

He chuckles, guiding your hand over the knife’s handle, steady and deliberate. With his touch, the blade moves effortlessly through the parsley, slicing with precision.

“Just like this,” he instructs, voice low and smooth. “A diagonal angle makes all the difference—now you try.”

You mimic his movements, finding the rhythm, the process suddenly easier. His hum of approval sends a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice a little too indulgent, a little too intimate. “Just like that—keep going.”

Your composure wavers. Something shifts in the air—his proximity, his tone, the subtle dominance in his words. It leaves you feeling cornered, like prey beneath the gaze of an apex predator. His breath warms the side of your neck, his scent lingers sweet and intoxicating. Heat coils in your stomach.

There are… other things you wouldn’t mind him teaching you.

Before your thoughts can spiral further, his voice breaks through the moment.

“Look at that, pasta and chicken are done.”

By the time the girls peek in, drawn by the rich, creamy scent wafting through the apartment, you’ve mixed and plated the alfredo while Getou sets the table—placemats, utensils, drinks, napkins, everything in place.

“YAY, PASTA!”

Mimiko barrels into Getou’s leg, clinging enthusiastically.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”

Nanako isn’t far behind, latching onto his opposite leg. “Yay! We love you, Daddy!”

He ruffles their hair, cradling their faces with unmistakable affection. “Aw, my beautiful girls. I love you too—but I couldn’t have done this alone.” His gaze flicks to you, warm and teasing. “Go say thank you to my sous chef.”

The twins twist their heads toward you, beaming. Before you can brace yourself, they launch forward, nearly knocking you over.

“Thank you, Suit Check!”

Nanako’s golden ringlets brush your arms as you wrap them in a hug.

Getou clicks his tongue. “No, girls—sous chef,” he corrects, exaggerating the pronunciation. “It means she was my helper in the kitchen, and she was the best helper! The pasta is extra delicious because of her.”

Satisfied with the explanation, he lifts the girls into their seats. With the help of stacked cushions, they’re just high enough to reach their plates. The moment their forks touch the pasta, the room falls silent, save for the sounds of clinking silverware and exaggerated chewing.

Getou chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s good, huh? Seems like a fan favorite.”

“S’good, Daddy—so cheesy!” Nanako exclaims, her cheeks full, her chin streaked with sauce. She wipes her fingers on the table, completely unbothered.

“So messy, honey.” Getou sighs, grabbing a napkin to clean her up despite her weak attempts to squirm away.

You lift your fork, twirling a bite expertly to catch the dangling cheese. “Watch this,” you say, demonstrating. “Wrap the cheese around your fork like this, so you can enjoy every bite without getting scolded by your dad.”

The girls gasp like you’ve unveiled some grand magic trick. They attempt to copy you, their enthusiasm infectious.

Getou takes a sip of his white wine, smirking. “Preventing messes like that isn’t exactly helping you escape the housewife allegations.” His voice dips just enough to keep the words between the two of you.

You giggle, swirling your fork aimlessly around your plate, suddenly feeling like a giggly schoolgirl.

Then, an idea strikes. “Hey, if you need an outlet for those messy tendencies, my job is hosting a family event on Monday. Finger painting—they can go wild. I’m working it, so you should bring the girls. It’ll be fun.”

Getou raises a brow, turning to the twins. “What do you think, girls? Want to go? Do some painting?”

He coughs, muttering under his breath, “That’s not on our walls.”

You swat his arm playfully, but the girls don’t notice. They’re already buzzing with excitement.

“We wanna go!” “Yeah, we love to paint! Daddy never lets us!”

You grin, throwing up two thumbs. “See? I’ll let you paint all you want on Monday. I’ll sign you all up—it’ll be a blast!”

𓂃۶ৎ

You can’t help but wonder if Getou regrets agreeing to come to ‘Family Finger-painting’ as you watch Nanako, ever the ball of energy, streak cobalt blue finger paint across the front of his crisp button-up. The deep navy smudges stand out starkly against the fabric, flecks of red in her dark umber hair only adding to the chaotic artistry. Her small, paint-covered hands leave damning evidence all over his sleeves and the hem of what was, moments ago, a pristine Ralph Lauren Oxford.

You cringe, anticipating a reaction—a sigh, a flash of disappointment. But Getou only leans down, furrowing his brows, his sharp eyes honing in on the tiny perpetrator with exaggerated accusation.

“Nanako…”

His large hands wrap around her waist, and in one swift motion, he hoists her up, lifting her high above his head as if she were soaring like an eagle. “Such a messy one, aren’t you? Look what you did to Daddy! I’ve got you now, Nana.”

Nanako kicks her little feet, writhing in his grasp as peals of laughter burst from her lungs, the sound rich and warm like music.

“D-Daddy, stop! Let me go! Sorry, sorry!”

Finally, he relents, setting her back down with an affectionate pat to her head. His shirt, however, has taken even more damage—blue smears blending with the red, swirling into purple, with specks of pink now dotting his arms and pants like an abstract masterpiece.

“Daddy, me too! Wanna fly!” Mimiko tugs at his pant leg, her small hands leaving more marks in their wake.

Obliging, Getou lifts her with the same ease, holding her up until she nearly brushes the ceiling. You make your way over, watching them with quiet amusement.

“Careful with her head, Suguru.”

Getou lowers Mimiko to rest against his hip, turning to greet you with a smile. “Ah, thank you. I do tend to get carried away.” He gestures toward the three canvases spread across the floor, protected by layers of newspaper—a rare stroke of genius on Yu’s part. “How’s the progress?”

You kneel to inspect their work: a peacock, a flower, and three handprints.

“Let me guess—the peacock is Nanako’s, and the flower is Mimiko’s?”

Nanako beams, nodding vigorously as she tugs at your smock, eager for praise. The bird she painted is surprisingly elegant, its neck curved gracefully, head tucked bashfully. The feathers—done in sweeping strokes of yellow, blue, and green—are intricate for a child her age.

“Nanako, this is beautiful! You did such a great job.”

Her cheeks flush pink, her smile widening with pride. Mimiko, not to be outdone, smushes her face against her father’s side, peeking up at you. “Wuh ‘bout mie?”

You turn to her painting—green stems drawn with a careful forefinger, flowers crafted from colorful thumbprints. It’s simpler than Nanako’s, but no less charming.

“These flowers are so pretty! I love all the colors, Mimiko.”

“Danks.”

Getou chuckles, shooting you a knowing look—one that clearly says, I know you’re just being nice, but I appreciate it.

Then, he dips his fingers into the paint and smears a thick layer of violet onto your open palm.

“Why don’t you be the finishing touch to my piece?”

You glance at his canvas—sky blue with a large purple handprint on one side, two smaller ones beneath it, one lime green, the other bright pink.

He nods toward the empty space. “Go on. Left room for you.”

With a small smile, you press your palm against the canvas, feeling the sticky paint mold to the lines of your skin. A warmth settles in your stomach as the girls erupt into applause.

Getou hums, scratching his chin as he inspects the final product, his voice dipping into a teasing lilt. “Now it’s perfect. My idea to have you complete the piece was a true stroke of genius.”

You groan. “Not a dad joke, Suguru. How stereotypical.”

He pouts, scrunching his nose in exaggerated offense. Beside him, Mimiko mimics the expression perfectly, her chubby cheeks puffed out in what might be the most adorable sight you’ve ever seen.

Before you can comment on it, a frantic voice cuts through the room.

“Just a sec, you drama queens—I’ll be right back.”

You jog toward Yu, weaving between families painting peacefully. When you finally reach him, your stomach drops at the scene in front of you. A toppled canvas lies face-down, irreparably smeared. Paint has dripped from the palette, bleeding past the newspaper barrier onto the floor.

Shit.

A wail erupts, high and heartbroken. Yuji, eyes brimming with tears, sniffles as he clings to Nanami, whose face is twisted in regret.

You scoop Yuji into your arms, rubbing his back as he hiccups between sobs.

“Yu-Yu, honey, it’s okay. We’ll get another canvas. We can make something even cooler.”

His sniffles continue, tiny fists wiping at his tear-streaked face.

“See? Nanami’s not mad at you.” You nudge Nanami’s leg.

Nanami, who’s been furiously cleaning to prevent Yu from getting written up, straightens at once. With practiced ease, he runs a hand through Yuji’s pink curls before cupping his cheek.

“Oh, Yuji, of course I’m not mad. I just had to clean up. We can still paint whatever you want, okay?”

Yuji sniffs, lower lip trembling, but the tears finally slow. You grab a tissue, holding it up to his face.

“Blow.”

He obeys, filling the tissue. You clean him up and pat his head.

Nanami bows slightly. “Thank you.”

You wave him off. “No need for thanks, Yu won’t get in trouble tonight thanks to you.”

Yu joins Nanami, curling around his arm like a content cat, while the two men share a look—soft smiles, red-tipped ears, and a warmth that’s almost too much to witness.

You groan, turning back toward the Getous. As your gaze sweeps the room, Getou towers over the families, effortlessly catching your eye. He raises a bronzed hand, beckoning you back over.

And without hesitation, you go.

𓂃۶ৎ

Turns out, washing dried paint out of hair is harder than you’d expect. Not that it ever seemed easy, but it's a lot like trying to remove gum from thick locks—frustrating and nearly impossible without the right tools.

You hold Mimiko’s head steady over the sink, your fingers working diligently to scrape out stubborn streaks of red paint from her bangs. How she managed to get it there in the first place is beyond you. Speckles of color circle the drain as you slowly restore her hair to its natural brown.

“Suguru, please,” you mouth over to Getou, careful not to let Mimiko catch on to your frustration. He peeks around the side of the tub, where he has Nanako perched on the edge, her head tilted back as he rinses out her own mess. At least he seems to be making progress—her dirty blonde strands darken to caramel under the stream of water.

Your gaze flickers to Getou himself, and concern stirs in your chest. His loose black hair, usually immaculate, is now streaked with vibrant splashes of paint. He notices your stare and offers you a small, tight-lipped smile, but his furrowed brows betray his worry.

Reaching into the cabinet, he pulls out a jar of coconut oil and hands Nanako a wide-toothed comb. “Here, sweetheart, detangle your hair for me so I can help your sister.”

He joins you at the sink, twisting the cap off the oil. “This should help. If it moisturizes the hair, it’ll loosen the paint’s grip.”

You hum in agreement, stepping onto the twins’ footstool so you can hover over Getou’s head. He glances up at you, incredulous. “Pour some for me. Someone has to do yours, too.”

He flicks your forehead in response, a teasing gesture before tipping the bottle generously into your outstretched palm. Warming the oil between your hands, you begin raking your fingers through his dark locks, careful but thorough. The silver strands peppered throughout catch the light, gleaming softly under the bathroom bulb. The oil works wonders, and soon enough, the paint starts to dissolve.

“Mm, careful back there,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something almost indulgent. “Feels nice—I might just drift off.”

Smirking, you wind the ends of his hair around your fingers and give a light tug.

What you don’t expect is the breathy gasp that slips past his lips, followed by a low, gravelly, “Watch it.”

Does he like that? You file the information away for later—time and place, after all.

The faucet shuts off, and Getou lifts Mimiko upright, wrapping a fluffy towel around her shoulders and drying her hair. You do the same for Nanako before helping Getou finish up with them both. The twins announce their plans to change into clean clothes and scamper off, promising to dump their messy outfits straight into the washing machine.

Meanwhile, Getou scrubs his forearms with the remaining coconut oil as you towel off his hair to prevent it from dripping down his back. Out of everyone, he’s easily the most covered in paint—the sink now tinted a muddy brown from the mixture of colors.

“You know, we should get changed too,” he says, wringing out a section of his hair. “You can borrow something of mine if you’re okay with that. No pressure.”

“Honestly, I’d do anything to get out of these sticky clothes,” you sigh. “Something soft sounds like a dream right now.”

He grins, booping your nose. “Your wish is my command.”

A few minutes later, you pull on the clothes he’s left for you on the hamper—a large, oversized olive green graphic tee that’s so faded you can barely make out the text, ‘Girl Dad’ (which is sickeningly adorable), and a pair of simple black sweatpants with a drawstring. The fabric pools around your feet, the sleeves gaping at your elbows, but it’s comfortable. More importantly, it smells like him—rustic sandalwood and sweet coconut.

You step out of the bathroom just as Getou emerges from his bedroom, his gaze sweeping over you unabashedly. He looks thoroughly pleased, his own outfit a mirror of yours, except his shirt is a solid white. His hair is now twisted up and secured with a claw clip.

Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His nose is cold as it nudges against your pulse point, pressing a light, lingering kiss there.

“Soft enough?” he murmurs, voice laced with amusement.

You hum in response, though it comes out more like a contented purr. Your arms loop around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He lingers for a moment before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, then pulls back with a sigh.

“C’mon,” he says, lacing his fingers through yours. “The girls are waiting.”

In the living room, the twins are sprawled out on the couch, whispering conspiratorially over a small crate filled with hair accessories. As soon as they spot Getou, they light up.

“Daddy makeover! Daddy makeover!”

A faint flush spreads down Getou’s neck. “No, girls, d—what?”

“We want to do your hair too!”

“Pleeeeaaaseee.”

They bat their lashes, their tiny hands clutching at his shirt, and oh, they’re good. Getou looks at you for backup, but you only grin and join in on the pleading.

“Pleeeeaaaseee.”

He sighs, defeated, and slides onto the floor, his back against the couch. “Fine. But be gentle.”

The twins cheer, shoving the crate toward you so you can join in. Inside, you find butterfly clips, neon barrettes, pink bows, satin scrunchies, and rainbow elastics. The three of you claim your sections of his hair and get to work—messy buns, neat braids, tiny pigtails. By the end, his head looks like a walking arts-and-crafts project.

Getou's phone blares an absurdly loud, obnoxious ringtone, shattering the quiet hum of the evening. He fumbles with it, brow furrowing as he tries to navigate answering—his age is showing. Finally, after an unnecessary struggle, he swipes to accept, and the screen flickers to life.

Gojo’s face appears far too close to the camera, wide blue eyes blinking unnervingly. The glow of the screen illuminates the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the faint shadows beneath his eyes, casting his features in an eerie fog of azure.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

Getou lets out a loud, pointed cough and lowers the volume, shooting Gojo a disapproving look. With a shift of his wrist, he adjusts the angle so the girls—and inevitably, you—come into frame.

“Hi, Satoru!!”

Gojo winks, flashing a toothy grin. “How’re my favorite goddaughters?”

“Good!!”

“That’s what I like to hear. Your incredibly, generous godfather is calling to persuade your stuffy dad to take you somewhere awesome! Put him back on the phone, okay?”

“Okay!!”

Getou scowls and holds up an obscured middle finger to the camera. Gojo only cackles.

“I see you’re being pampered like the princess that you are by those sweet girls and your… friend.”

“Yes,” Getou replies dryly. “What about it?

Gojo somehow flips himself upside down in the frame, his hand dangling as he snorts.

“Nothing, just making an observation. Anyway, I called to invite you on a trip this weekend. I booked an Airbnb in the city so the kids can see that new superhero movie premiere. The city screenings are being introduced by actual cast members. Megumi and Tsumiki will be inconsolable if their cousins can’t come. So… you in?”

Getou shrugs, arching a well-groomed brow. “How can I refuse? The only one who spoils their kids more than you is me.”

“I dunno, the jury’s still out on that. Why don’t we ask your friend this weekend? If she comes, she’ll be the perfect tiebreaker.”

Oh, he’s slick. You suppress a smile but lean forward over Getou’s shoulder, tapping his cheek.

“Suguru’s friend likes that idea very much. I’m in—and I’ll be sure to make an unbiased decision.”

Getou turns to you, his expression shifting, concern softening the sharp elegance of his features. There’s a slight crease between his brows, and for a brief moment, you want to smooth it away, to press a kiss over the corners of his lips that have dipped into a hesitant frown.

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice lower now, meant just for you. “Don’t feel pressured by this idiot.”

“Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t. I have no qualms about rejecting cocky men.”

Gojo snaps his fingers, amused. “Testy. I like it. Give me your number, and I’ll send you the details. I need to record everyone staying in the house for the homeowner.”

You recite it, then settle back into your spot. Your fingers thread through Getou’s dark hair absentmindedly, mirroring the girls’ movements as they weave an impressively tight Dutch braid along the side of his head.

Getou and Gojo continue chatting, their voices fading into the background as your phone lights up on the arm of the couch. You stretch forward to grab it, expecting a message from Yu with an update—he had also gone home with his beau.

But when you unlock the screen, an unfamiliar number stares back at you.

717-904-3856: Hey! It’s Gojo Satoru AKA your wingman, and I won’t rest until I successfully hook you up with my best friend. 

God knows he needs it.

𓂃۶ৎ

“This Airbnb is fu—uh, I mean, freaking huge. How’d Gojo afford this?!”

Getou chuckles under his breath as he steers the wheel, glancing in the rearview mirror before backing into the long driveway. The house looms in front of you—massive, especially for something in the heart of the city. Beige bricks stack into sleek, modern walls, and the tall, black roof contrasts against the setting sun. Floor-to-ceiling windows reveal a lofty foyer inside, warm light spilling onto the neatly trimmed bushes lining the entryway. The double doors arch into a perfect half-circle, framed by lush greenery rooted in pristine, manicured grass.

He shifts the car into park, turning off the engine with an effortless press of his fingers. “Ah, did I forget to mention? Gojo’s family owns an upscale hotel franchise. You might’ve heard of it—Living Limitless?”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. “No way. Of course, I’ve heard of them. They were in the news last year after acquiring that media conglomerate for a ridiculous amount of money. They’re loaded!”

Getou hums in response, slipping off his seatbelt. The silver frames of his glasses catch the light as he glances at you, the soft twill of his black short-sleeve set draping over his frame. His hair is neatly tied into a bun, the stray strands framing his face in a way that makes him look devastatingly good. The delicate glint of his rings and bracelets only adds to the effect.

“Mm. Money doesn’t buy manners, though. His family isn’t exactly warm and welcoming, so he doesn’t see them often. But he still has access to his shares, which is why he can afford to act like a snob.”

You chuckle, pushing open the passenger door before reaching into the backseat to unbuckle Nanako from her booster seat. “I mean, he can’t be that bad. He does a lot for the girls, doesn’t he?”

“Welcome to my humble abode!”

Your head snaps up just in time to see Gojo—not walking—but rolling toward you down the cobblestone driveway on a hoverboard, tilted forward like he’s the main act in some grand performance.

You inhale sharply. “Spoke too soon.”

Getou sighs, dragging a hand down his face before taking both girls by the hands, guiding them toward Gojo. Unlike you, the twins are completely mesmerized by his dramatic entrance. You, however, can’t help but see a man in his thirties, draped in designer from head to toe—Gucci sunglasses, Gucci joggers, Gucci slides—riding a Segway like a rich kid who never outgrew his phase.

To his credit, Gojo is absurdly friendly. He sweeps all of you into a round of enthusiastic hugs, exchanging pleasantries before immediately launching into an animated info-dump about the upcoming movie. His voice brims with excitement—maybe even more so than the kids’.

“—and the actor that plays Cursebreaker? Absolute machine. Does all his own stunts. Megumi could tell you more, he follows him on TikTok. He and his sister have been asking about you two all day.”

Right on cue, a small head peeks out from the front door. Tsumiki beams brightly. “Hi Nana! Hi Mimi!”

From behind her, little Megumi appears—his tousled black hair falling over his forehead, his lips drawn into a scowl.

The interior of the house is even more elegant than the exterior—sleek and modern, a symphony of whites, grays, and blacks. The minimalist design is softened by the presence of large, leafy plants, and a high-end television camouflages as an expensive painting on the wall.

As soon as you step inside, the girls scatter, immediately engrossed in an impromptu game of tag, their laughter echoing through the open space. Getou settles himself into the plush white couch, casually grabbing a controller as Megumi boots up his Switch beside him. That leaves you with Gojo, who is carefully slipping into his Cursebreaker cosplay for later that evening.

“Zip this up for me?” he asks, turning his back to you.

The suit is absurdly tight, a second skin molded to every inch of his form. You struggle with the zipper, nearly yanking Gojo backward in the process. The sleek, black material stretches over his body, covering him from head to toe—built-in shoes and all. The design spirals with glowing icy blue accents that converge at his sternum, forming a swirling curse energy emblem.

Gojo’s usual vibrant eyes are further exaggerated by unnervingly bright blue contacts, the pupils swallowed entirely, leaving only a ghostly glow.

As you help spike his already gravity-defying hair, you can’t help but ask, “Where the hell did you even get this costume?”

Gojo smirks, fluffing a single strand just right. “Oh, you know… I just reached out to the actual designer from the movie, commissioned an exact replica. Had to expedite it, though.”

You stare at him, deadpan. “Oh. So you’re rich-rich.”

Gojo actually has the nerve to look a little bashful, kicking at the floor like a kid caught sneaking an extra dessert. “It’s not like that! I don’t splurge on just anything. I’ve been obsessed with this franchise since I was a kid.”

From the couch, Getou’s smooth voice interjects lazily, “Born to be a nerd, forced to be an heir. Tragic.”

Megumi, ever eager to roast Gojo, jumps in with a smirk. “NERD.”

What follows is a predictable bout of bickering, it lasts until Gojo’s phone vibrates, signaling that their Uber will be arriving in an hour. He claps his hands together and directs the kids to get into their costumes.

Then he turns to you and Getou with an expression that makes you wary. “So,” he drawls, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain, “fun fact—there are only five cinema tickets. Totally sold out. Couldn’t get extras.”

Getou frowns, about to protest, but Gojo cuts him off with a raised finger. “Ah, ah, ah. This actually works out perfectly, because let’s be honest—I’m the only one who actually cares about seeing this movie. So, instead of sitting through something you don’t care about, you two should have a night out. I even have recommendations.”

You glance at Getou with amusement. “So, Suguru, when’s the last time you went out socially?”

Silence. Getou’s lips press into a thin line.

Gojo beams in triumph. “Yay! You’ll do it! Get back out there, Grandma!” He whips out his phone and texts you both the name of a bar. It looks lively—plenty of drinks, an arcade, even a dance floor.

“Oh, and FYI,” he adds, “I already called an Uber for you. So, chop chop, go get ready.”

The sudden realization that you’re about to go on what is essentially a date with Getou sends you scrambling for an outfit. After giving your goodbyes to the twins, who latch onto you for hugs, you rush off to get ready.

A steaming shower melts away any tension as you exfoliate, shave, and lather yourself in fragrant lotion and body oil. When you step out, your reflection grins back at you, brimming with anticipation.

You settle on an all-black ensemble: knee-high boots, a mini skirt, and a textured, long-sleeved button-up, strategically fastened at your midriff to reveal just the right amount of skin. A small black bag completes the look. You’re banking on Getou wearing black—his wardrobe rarely deviates from it.

Descending the stairs, your hunch proves correct. Getou stands by the mirror near the front door, adjusting his watch and straightening his jewelry. He’s still in his earlier outfit but has thrown on a wool-lined button-up denim jacket and swapped his shoes for chunky-sole ankle boots. His glasses remain, framing his face as a few strands of hair escape his bun.

You creep up behind him, aligning yourself in the reflection. “Hey.”

His gaze lifts to meet yours in the mirror, and a faint flush rises to his cheeks. “Hey.”

You let out a low whistle. “Damn, you clean up well.”

He turns, draping an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in. Your palm finds his chest, and in the mirror’s reflection, you can’t deny—you two look good together.

“You make me look even better,” he murmurs, his arm snaking around your waist. “You look beautiful.”

A car horn honks outside, breaking the moment. Getou steps back, extending a hand, and you take it. He even opens the door for you, effortlessly slipping into the role of a gentleman.

During the ride, he chats idly, reminiscing about growing up on the outskirts of the city. He tells you about the sprawling fields that once existed before modernization, where he and the local kids played streetball. You tease him for having firsthand historical knowledge of the ‘90s, earning an eye roll in return.

At the bar, the crowd is thick, the air electric. Getou’s firm hand guides you through, settling at the small of your back. At the bar, he orders your drinks.

“So handsome…,” you say, swirling your glass before taking a sip, “what brings you out tonight?”

Getou smirks, playing along. “Finally got a night away from the kids. I’m a father, by the way.”

“Oh?” You eye him appreciatively, slow and deliberate. “You ever heard of the term DILF before?”

He chuckles, amusement glinting in his eyes as he downs half his drink. “Oh, how forward of you. Would you personally apply that term to me, or…?”

You grin, raising your glass. “Let’s save the pillow talk for later. Tell me more about yourself—steady job, good income, solid principles, family values?”

Getou swirls his drink lazily before topping it off with a fresh pour. The gleam of his silver watch catches the light. “I sit on the board of a local non-profit, invest in my 401K, indulge in questionable activities in moderation, and put family above all else.”

Your eyebrows lift, surprised by the thorough answer. He clinks his glass against yours, eyes flickering with curiosity. “And you?”

You down the rest of your drink, holding his gaze. Then, licking your lips, you lean in slightly.

“Oh, me?” You twirl a strand of hair around your finger. “I’m a daycare teacher and tutor, planning to start grad school after I get my promotion. I splurge irresponsibly with my best friend on weekends, but I’m generally kind-hearted. I want a family of my own someday.”

Getou hums appreciatively. “Sounds like you’re exactly what I’m looking for in a partner—smart, nurturing, ambitious, outgoing, and devoted.” He flags down the bartender, already ordering another round before turning back to you with a smirk. “I imagine we’ll get along well.”

Two drinks deep, and you’re debating your go-to orders—his, a neat Scotch, yours, a lemon drop martini.

Three drinks in, and you’re bickering about how absolutely repulsive the other’s choice is.

Four drinks in, and the embarrassing stories spill out like the liquor in your glasses. He’s telling you about the time he pranked Gojo so convincingly at a KFC that it led to an all-out meltdown, ultimately getting them banned from every location nationwide. You counter with a tale of your early days at work, when a particularly unruly kid kicked you in the crotch and bolted, leaving you to chase him around the parking lot in a frenzy.

Five drinks in, and you’re both breathless with laughter, wheezing about how absurd Gojo looked in that ridiculous costume—how he is probably chafing from its unnatural tightness.

Six drinks in, and you’re tugging Getou onto the dance floor, the bass rattling through the floorboards as you pull him close, fingers trailing down his torso before turning to grind back against him. His hands find your hips, strong and steady, guiding you in rhythm, his hot breath fanning across your ear.

Six drinks and two shots of D’Usse in, and you’re clawing at his jacket, trying to shrug it off his shoulders while he palms your ass through your skirt, drawing the ire of surrounding patrons.

“Say, we get outta here,” he murmurs, voice husky.

“Mmm, yeah, but where?”

He pulls back just enough to glance around, trying to shake the intoxicating pull of your scent. Then, his gaze lands on the neon sign above the exit.

“Oh, shit.” He chuckles, already tugging you toward the door. “This bar’s connected to a hotel… Limitless Hotel.”

The realization dawns sluggishly, but in sync. “Gojo.”

You both scoff, but Getou doesn’t dwell. He’s already handing his black card to the receptionist, sliding across a generous tip before guiding you to the elevator. The doors shut, and just as you sneak a hand beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips grazing warm skin, he stills, regaining his composure. Instead of pulling you closer, he just looks down, offering you that saccharine smile—sweet, soft, disarming.

The most contact he allows is the gentle squeeze of your hand as he leads you down the hallway. The key card beeps, the door unlocks, and the moment you step inside, Getou turns to you, effortlessly lifting you by your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he walks backward into the room, lips finding the damp skin of your neck. He licks, sucks, nips his way down to your collarbone, groaning like he’s savoring something divine.

He stumbles near the closet, and you tumble onto the mattress with a breathless yelp, your hair catching uncomfortably beneath you. You cling to his neck, trying to ease the tension, and he gazes down at you, his violet eyes suddenly sharp despite the haze of alcohol.

“You okay, baby?”

“Mhm.” You cradle his face, his cheeks flushed, lips tinged red, pupils blown wide. You sigh, brushing your thumb across his cheekbone. “S’pretty Sugu… kiss?”

Getou gets the message, dipping down to capture your lips in a slow, consuming kiss. His strong arms cage you in as his tongue teases yours, urging your mouth open further. You moan into it, gripping his shoulders as he presses closer, the heat between you mounting with every stolen breath.

Your shirt is barely clinging to your frame, skirt bunched high around your hips, and Getou takes full advantage, trailing kisses down your chest, tugging your bra aside to flick his tongue over a peaked nipple. The sensation sends sparks through your body, and he groans, biting gently as his eyes flick up to gauge your reaction.

You arch beneath him, desperate for more, hands fisting in his hair. The loose bun unravels, his dark strands cascading around you like a curtain, his scent enveloping you completely.

You whimper, shifting beneath him, seeking friction. “Su-gu-ru…”

He bites at your earlobe, his voice a breathy whisper, “Tell me what you need, baby. Talk to me.”

“Need you,” you gasp, hips canting up in frustration. “More—please.”

His weight presses against you, his clothed length dragging over your damp panties, and you keen at the friction.

“Like this?” he teases, grinding slow, deliberate.

You moan, rolling your hips to meet his. “Yes—yes, Sugu. Feels so good.”

The taste of alcohol lingers on your tongue, but it’s overshadowed by Getou, his kisses devouring, claiming. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging, and he groans, shuddering against you.

His hands roam, tracing down your torso, teasing over your navel. Your fingers wander in turn, slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging over the taut muscles of his back, feeling them ripple as he moves.

Your hands drift lower, mapping the firm planes of his chest until your fingers catch on the cold metal of his barbell piercings. You flick them, drawing a sharp inhale from him. And then you see it—the tattoo you’ve admired from afar, the coiled tail of a dragon peeking from the jut of his hip.

He chuckles, low and rough, nuzzling into your neck. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

You swallow hard, heart hammering. “Need you—now.”

His smirk is sinful. “Yeah? Here, you’ve been so good for me.”

He shoves his pants lower, and you shiver as his hands skim your thighs, pushing your skirt down and off entirely.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you slow, teasing. “Take me out of my boxers.”

Getou straightens up, towering over you like a Greek god—sculpted physique gleaming under the dim light, skin slick with perspiration and arousal. Your breath hitches as you curl your fingertips around the waistband of his black boxers, carefully pulling them down, revealing the end of his happy trail and the thick, pulsing length of his cock straining beneath the fabric.

You free him from the confines, wrapping your fingers around his girth. He twitches in your grasp, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth.

“Just like that, baby,” Getou murmurs, leaning over to flick his tongue over a sensitive nipple. Your mewl is music to his ears.

He lets you stroke him a few times, a bead of precum glistening at his tip as you lick your lips. But before you can indulge further, he captures your wrist, his other hand slipping beneath the damp fabric of your panties, pressing a teasing stroke over your clit.

A violent jolt racks your body. Your hips twitch, desperate for more, but all you can manage is an incoherent plea, breathy and urgent.

Getou chuckles, the sound dark, almost cruel. “Shh, shh. I got you. Daddy’s got you.”

He slips a finger inside you, and the moan you release is downright filthy. The slick glide allows him to press a second digit in beside the first with ease, stretching you open with deliberate, lazy pumps. His knuckles brush against you, curling upward with intent, watching your every reaction.

Your eyes flutter back, mouth parted, and you think you might be drooling. Getou licks at your chin, smirking. “Hey. Eyes up here.”

You barely manage to meet his gaze, his irises eclipsed by lust-darkened pupils. He leans in, your panting breaths mingling, and you press your lips to his, tasting him, losing yourself in the heat of his mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice like gravel and honey. “You just tightened up—mmh, you like it when I look at you?”

“Yes, Sugu,” you gasp, teetering on the edge of madness. “Please, I’m gonna die if you don’t fuck me soon.”

The words are only half-teasing; the ache inside you is unbearable, the need to be filled leaving your eyes pricking with unshed tears. Getou’s expression softens for only a moment before he kisses the corner of your eyes, his thumbs swiping tenderly over your cheekbones.

Then, without warning, he hikes your legs over his shoulders, dragging your panties aside. The swollen head of his cock nudges against your slick clit, the slight friction sending a white-hot surge through your nerves. He watches the way you shudder beneath him, reveling in your sensitivity.

“You want it?” he asks, lining himself up, teasing your entrance.

You whimper, wiggling your hips, desperate to catch him inside. The wetness pooling between your thighs makes it effortless, yet he stills his movements, smirking down at you.

“Go ahead, baby,” he urges, voice thick. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”

He pushes in just enough for his tip to breach your entrance, the stretch immediate, electric. You sink down onto him, trying to take more, but it’s too much—too thick, not deep enough. Your walls clench greedily, but you can’t fit him in entirely on your own.

You look up at Getou, his lip caught between his teeth, veins prominent along his throat and forearms. A single tear escapes the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek as you whisper, broken and pleading:

“Fuck me.”

Getou exhales sharply, dragging your panties off, your slick stretching between the fabric and your core. He balls them up, stuffing them into his pocket. You open your mouth to question it, but before you can, he grabs your ankles, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

With one deliberate thrust, he buries himself to the hilt.

A choked cry escapes your lips, his name mangled on your tongue. He sets a ruthless pace, each stroke angled perfectly to find the spot inside you that has you keening.

Your head falls back, eyes glassy, body trembling as pleasure builds in your core. Getou watches you come undone beneath him, kissing and biting at your thighs as he keeps driving into you.

“Gripping me so tight, baby,” he groans, voice raw with need. “So fucking wet—do you want to cum for me?”

You nod frantically, words failing you.

Getou chuckles darkly. “Can’t understand you, sweetheart. Try again.”

You suck in a shaky breath, but he thrusts particularly deep, stealing it away before you can respond. Your body quivers violently, pleasure teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Yes, Sugu—yes! Please, I need—”

“Better,” he huffs. He withdraws, just long enough to shift his position, slotting himself between your legs, guiding your hands behind his neck. You instinctively wrap yourself around him, pulling him deeper as he fills you completely.

The pressure is dizzying. His hand presses against your lower stomach, and you keen, feeling him so impossibly deep inside you.

“S-so big—fuck—so deep, Sugu, s’good.”

He kisses your cheek, resuming his brutal pace, the wet sounds of your coupling only adding to the sinful bliss. He reaches between you, circling your clit with practiced precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You choke on a sob, pleasure consuming you. “Sugu—c-coming—”

His nose brushes against yours, his lips hovering just over your own as he coaxes you further. He licks along your cupid’s bow, voice a whispered command:

“Come for me.”

The dam bursts.

A violent wave of ecstasy crashes over you, leaving you gasping, body convulsing around him. Your walls flutter and squeeze, a gush of arousal soaking his cock, dripping down to his balls.

“Fuck, baby,” he grits out, fucking you through the aftershocks. “Just like that.”

He doesn’t stop, dragging out your pleasure until it’s unbearable. Another orgasm crashes over you before you even have time to recover, leaving you sobbing his name.

Getou groans, his body tensing. “Fuck—‘m close—”

You know what will push him over the edge.

“Come inside me,” you beg, voice wrecked. “Fill me up—Su-gu-ru.”

A broken moan falls from your lips as Getou thrusts deep, his release spilling into you, hot and thick. His pace stutters, but he doesn’t stop, fucking his cum into you, his hips rolling lazily as your walls pulse. The slick, creamy mess coats his base, dripping from your swollen cunt.

You tug him closer, pulling him into a messy, breathless kiss—your tongues sliding together, lips slotting against each other with desperate need. It’s intoxicating, dizzying, and you only pull away when the edges of your vision blur, the threat of passing out looming.

You blink up at him, mind hazy, body wrecked and thrumming with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your voice comes out shaky, barely more than a whisper.

“Fuck.”

Getou chuckles, the sound low and breathless, his chest rising and falling against yours. A bead of sweat rolls down his neck, disappearing into the dip of his collarbone.

“Fuck is right,” he murmurs, voice tinged with amusement.

His gaze softens when you nuzzle against him, your cheek pressing against his damp skin. The fatigue creeps in—drunken, drowsy, and thoroughly ruined, your limbs feel too heavy to move.

His lips brush your temple. “You okay, baby? Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head against him, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, you’re perfect.”

He hums, fingers tracing absentminded circles against your back. Then, he shifts, trying to sit up—but the moment he moves, you tighten your arms around his neck, pulling him back down with a stubborn whine.

“Need to clean us up,” he says, voice gentle. “Won’t take long.”

You pout, clinging to him like a lifeline, your fingers wringing around his nape, refusing to let go.

He exhales, surrendering. “Alright, alright. Later?”

Your smile presses into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his touch soothing as his hand glides along your spine, up to scratch at your scalp in slow, languid motions.

“Later.”

𓂃۶ৎ

One thing you hate about your job is how it conditions your body to wake up at ungodly hours. In theory, it’s practical—what responsible adult wouldn’t want an early start to their day? But when you’re still reeling from a brutal hangover, desperately craving more sleep, and your body betrays you by jolting awake at the crack of dawn, it feels like pure, unadulterated torture.

You groan, rolling over in an attempt to force yourself back under, but sleep refuses to claim you again. After tossing and turning until frustration wins out, you surrender and drag yourself toward the kitchen, deciding a glass of water might help reset your system.

Hydration is key, after all, and judging by the desert-dry state of your throat, it’s safe to say you neglected it for the last forty-eight hours. Understandable, given how you’d spent the night before last.

The memory hits you out of nowhere—Getou Suguru, your devastatingly attractive neighbor, buried deep inside you, his face tight with concentration, his lips parted, breathless, still so effortlessly beautiful.

Your thighs squeeze together instinctively. It’s been happening often, these flashes of him in the most compromising positions. You just hope it isn’t obvious.

The cool air from the fridge is a relief against your overheated skin. For a fleeting moment, you consider drinking straight from the jug but decide to cling to the last shred of your dignity and pour it into a glass instead. Still groggy, you make your way to the couch, your sleep shorts riding up with every sluggish step, the strap of your bralette twisted uncomfortably.

Then—movement.

From the corner of your eye, just outside your window, something shifts. Old habits die hard, and before you can think better of it, you tiptoe closer, peeking through the curtain just enough to get a view. You expect to see the usual—Getou up early, like always. You recently learned that he wakes at the crack of dawn to make breakfast for the girls every day—a habit formed from years of going without, back when his family couldn’t afford the luxury of a morning meal.

You do see Getou.

He’s on his bed, legs stretched out, and he’s touching himself.

Your breath stutters in your throat.

His cock is flushed and straining in his hand, thick fingers wrapped around the length as he pumps himself at a lazy pace. You can almost hear the sounds he’s making—the quiet, low groans that would rumble deep in his chest, the sharp inhales as he works himself over. His lips move, forming words you can’t quite make out, but what catches your attention most is the fabric curled around his shaft, moving in time with every stroke.

You squint, trying to get a better look. Then your stomach drops.

Your panties.

Your used panties from the other night. The ones you’d worn throughout the evening, growing wetter and needier with every stolen glance at him, every lingering touch. The lacy pair with the pale pink bow at the center.

Now, they’re tangled along his cock, the waistband stretching with every movement, sticky with precum as he grinds himself against the delicate fabric.

You’re mesmerized. Completely, utterly entranced. You don’t even realize you’ve moved the curtain further, no longer just peeking but openly watching. And then—it happens.

Getou’s dark eyes lock onto yours.

Your stomach flips, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he slows down, dragging it out, making a show of it. His hips thrust up to meet his tight grip, his jaw tightening as he bites back another moan. He doesn’t waver, doesn’t look away. He just keeps watching you watch him.

Then, still stroking himself, he picks up his phone, tapping the screen a few times before bringing it to his ear.

Your phone vibrates from where you left it on the couch.

A heavy silence stretches between you as you hesitate. Then, slowly, almost mechanically, you reach for it, pressing it to your ear.

The first thing you hear is his moan—gravelly, drawn out, punctuated by a sharp breath. 

Across the way, Getou smirks. He stands, his cock bobbing against his stomach, your panties still tangled around the tip. He lifts a single finger, curling it in a slow beckon.

You swallow hard, pulse hammering in your ears.

And then, his voice, deep and smooth, curling around the words like a promise.

“Come over, pretty girl.”

[My beloved taglist: @mentallyillcore @ourfinalisation @nanasukii28 @tokyolittledelulu @reveursetcrieurs @c0ckdrunkk @inthedarkshadows000 @exelyox @inoluvrr]

+ A/N: Experimenting with my writing style ! Ngl I had to pause multiple times while writing this because DILFtou is just too damn fine !! Also, realized I have daddy issues while writing this smh

[ashnnix]

Various JJk men x Male husband reader

Tw: gbang,double pen,buldge,cum inflation, darcyphilia, spanking,forced marriage, dubcon,bj,polysex,cockwarming,almost NTR. Aphrodisiac,squirting

Summary:

As a husband of the famous Gojo who saved japan you always held your head high. Every man from jujutsu society is devastated to hear the news you're happily wed to the honoured one .But they always have a plan to have you in their arms, too. By having a gangbang with you and marry them after

Minors dni

fem align dni

PT.2

"Honey! I'm off to kill bunch of special grades, I might come home late!"

You hurriedly walked to your door to give your husband a good bye kiss. Being Satoru's husband is a blessing

"Leaving me without a kiss? How cruel" you jokingly said, you heard him laugh at your pun. Satoru pulled you from your waist a firm grip that almost made you whimper

"Kiss me" Without hesitation you pulled him by the neck, a quick kiss for him. You dont want to make him late you affectionately held his hands and also gave it a kiss

"Be safe okay? " Gojo gave you a warm smile, he also gave your hands a kiss his warm lips making you shiver

"You know how strong I am honey" Satoru patted your head and left your home. You didn't notice his dark smirk, eyes filled with lust. Gojo bit his lip in arousal

'Oh Y/N...'

After cleaning your home you took a break you sat on your sofa, taking a sip of the tea you made. You heard a knock from the door, you know it wasn't Satoru, it made you worried a little bit

You opened the door, your jaw dropped on the floor

It was all the men you rejected for Gojo

Looking at you with such lusted eyes looking down at you like you are their meal for the whole day

Frustrated you folded your arms glaring at the three Getou, Nanami and Choso

"When are you guys going to give up! Can't you see this ring I'm happily married!" You screamed at them while presenting your ring shining brightly

"Now now Y/N we just want to present you a gift for newly weds. We dont mean harm" Getou said smoothly with his charming smile he only use at you

Lies, its all lies and you can see it

Nanami cleared his throat avoiding eye contact

"We really meant no harm" Nanami blushed of how apron looks cute on you, he can't wait to fuck you already

"Congratulations Y/N" Choso gave you box with a cake inside, written ontop was 'Congratulations on marriage'

You felt slightly bad considering they went this far just to congratulate you. With a sigh you opened the door wider

"Fine fine, come in" you turned your back and walked to the living room you didn't hear how the three men breathed heavily, fighting the urge to pounce at you

The three sat on the couch while you take a seat on the solo sofa. You saw how Choso place the cake gently on the table, you crave something sweet today so you stand up to get a plate to eat the cake after taking off your apron

While you are rummaging to your plates the three men put a lot of aphrodisiac to the cake, enough to fuck you till morning

You grab a piece of cake, you look at the three men before taking a bite

"So how's life? Found someone yet?"

The three men clenched their hands, impatient. Their breath hitched when you finally took a bite of the cake

"We can't move on from you, Y/N"

Your body felt hot and heavy, you dropped the cake and the spoon on the floor

"Ah-ahh... wha-what is hngh! Happening?" Your confused why you suddenly felt too horny you and Satoru just had a morning sex

You tried to stand up with your wobbly legs, your cock wet from the precum its leaking. You pushed your thigh together hiding your erection but the friction from your clothes made you feel good

'nghh~ fe-feels good!more!more♡︎!" You drooled. You gasped when you realized your husband is not home. Your eyes locked in with the three males whos already taking off their clothes. Your body moves on its own, walking closer to them. Your knees went weak and fell on Nanamis chest. The smell of the mans cologne made you crazy and lose yourself

You rub your hard cock with his, Nanami groaned at the friction his dick is also getting hard

"Fuck, you feel so go-good" Nanami groaned also letting out a small whimper.Your bit your lip, Nanami's whimpering does something in your body

Getou and Choso stroke themselves at the scene letting Nanami have the first

"Go on, Kento, you can take him first"

Nanami wasted no time. He bends you over on the couch face down ass up he ripped off your shorts and boxer. His dick went harder when he saw your ass leak from being turned on

You still have your mind back, your mind is still not blank. So with your weak arms you tired to push Nanami away

"N-no you arent m-ngh!♡︎ husband, Ca-call Toru..." Your sentence was broke but they understand it well you saw Getou walked closer and crouch to give your forehead a kiss

"Satoru just buying something from the sex store for this sex we will use a lot of toys♡︎, he'll comeback later..." Choso also walked closer and pull your hair to make you look at him, you wince from the pain

'Toru...did what?'

"Right now, we, your husbands shall take care of your arousal" Your eyes almost rolled back how horny that sentence made you

You felt Nananami rubbing againts your ass, he opened the lube and squirted the liquid all over your ass making it look lewd

"Nooo...Nami haaa....st-sto- ahh!" You felt Nanami spank you leaving red hand prints on your ass

"You tell me that but your ass keeps rubbing on me" you sniffed in embarrassment .Your ass rubs on him not having enough patience

Without a warning Nanami dick plunge inside you, the hot burning sensation and the way it hit your prostate made you roll your eyes back and squirted your cum

"Oohh!!♡︎ cu-cumming!!" Your body arches as your dick continues to let out sperm. Nanami groaned and whimpered how your ass tightens around him. Getou giggled horny and hot at the scene infront of him

"You came just from inserting it? How cute Y/N" Your eyes let out tears as you lay limp on the couch, your drool soaking the sofa

"Ahh! Ahh! Haa! Ngh!"

Nanami thrust inside fast and rough, not forgiving you for rejecting him

Fwop Fwop

"Your so tight ngh!" You whimpered as you tighten up more, hearing Nanami whimper and let out sounds is making you horny

"Ohhh! Ahhh! Ah! ♡︎♡︎♡︎" your moans and whimper made Choso hot, he continued to stroke his dick. He clicked his tounge getting impatient. Choso pulled your head again his dick on your face

Getou continue to stroke his dick not stopping Choso, he understands how horny Choso already is

"Suck" Y/N hesitated and shook his head whining

"No~ do- ahh! Wanna...." Choso scoffed and slap your face hard, you didn't know why your dick twicthed

"Its not a request mmhm!" Choso grabs a hold of your hair, he pushed his dick on your mouth forcing you to deep throat him. You choked and your eyes rolled back. Tears brimming in the corner of your eyes

"Mmhm! Hmm! Ohmm!♡︎" The way Nanami thrust didn't help, it made you take Choso dick deep in your throat. Your hands went to stroke your dick ready to cum again. But Nanami pulled both of your hands taking him a lot more deeper

"Ohm! Hmm!" Your tongue continued to please Choso. Your eyes saw his face, flushed and horny. His whimpers can be heard all over the room

"Mgh...haa ahh your mouth feels good!" Choso groaned he thrust his hips the tip of his mouth hitting the deepest part of your mouth. Your jaw started to hurt already. You closed your eyes as tears flowed down your cheek. Your dick is now leaking precum staining the sofa again, your hands gripped Nanamis hands

Nanami smirked his glasses getting foggy from breathing hot air, his hips stuttered. Hes about to cum deep inside your ass, he can also feel your about to cum too. The way you shake, your ass twicthimg every thrust

Nanami leaned closer to your ear, with his deep voice whispering

"I'm gonna cum inside you" Your eyes widen, your body getting heated up

With one final thrust, both of you three simultaneously came. Your ass filled with Nanamis cum, your mouth choking on Chosos dick his semen also made you choke forcing you to swallow it all

"Mmhm! Ohmm! Mmngh!♡︎" you moaned,whimpered and cried. You kept cumming but your dick is still hard, you needed more...more!!♡︎♡︎

"Ahhh fuck you feel so good, so this is what that damn Gojo had to feel everyday" Nanami pulled his still hard dick watching a strand of cum connecting his tip to your rim

Choso also pulled out from your mouth watching you lay limp on the couch, your ass still up. Choso pulled back his hair already hot and sweaty from the sensation

"Your mouth feels good, I want- no need you everyday"

Your body layed limp shaking uncontrollably, your dick still hard, begging to cum again

Getou smirked of how fucked you looked, but not fucked enough. He will fuck you so hard till you can't speak, move passing out till morning

"Its my turn now darling"

You felt Getou big hands touch your waist, forcing you to lay on your back. He smirked darkly when he saw your dick twicth, hard and swollen stained with cum, your balls also twitching ready to let out bunch of your loads

His eyes moved to Getou catching his breath

"Choso lets double pen♡︎" Choso didn't hesitate he pulled you up from your armpits. Suprised you didn't fight back, he smirked how you just gave up

You felt two hot dick tip touch your rim rubbing it. With your last strength you tried to push Getou away touching his pecs

"Nooo- ahh p-please....Go-toru might see ahhh~ us!"

Choso and Getou suddenly went inside you without a warning, the grith of their cock forcing your ass to take their shape.You squealed loud body twitching from the pain and pleasure all at once. Both men shake and whimpered of how tight your ass felt. Both men groaned their dick touching each other inside you, hitting your deepest parts

"Ohhh! Shoo big! Im gonna cu-cumming!!" You came from the sensation the way they hit your deep parts sends electricity in your brain making you dumb on their dick

"Ooh! Big shoo good!! Ngh!~♡︎" the three men were shocked how hot and lewd your body reacts to double pen

The two men inside you only smirked darkly. They both simultaneously thrusted harshly inside hitting your prostate again and again without any breaks

Your eyes rolled back your pupils turned hearts. Your body arched your head resting on Choso shoulders. You saw his face eyes closed, focusing on pleasing his husband

"Sh-shit Y/N! You haa...ahhh..oh! Feel so good!" Getou moans are so much whinier than the two men

Nanami continued to watch the scene taking a break by drinking water

"Y-Y/N....mhm! Ohh!" Choso moans become much more needier the way his hips stuttered, his eyes almost rolled back of how tight your ass clenched around the both of them

Getou thrust was violent he cannot also forgive you for rejecting him. At your dumb fuck state you must realized now how these men are obsessed with you

Your hands touched the buldge in your stomach, whining of how deep they are inside you

Fwop fwop

The thrust becomes sloppy because of Nanamis' previous orgasm making your ass more wet

"Ahh! Haa! Ah! Choso~ Su!Suguru!" The two men suddenly came, moaning their name made them cum quick. You just had a strong effect on them

The feeling of being full to the brim, hot sweaty men all over you made you cum again. Your dick squirted all over, making a mess on your chest and stomach. Some got in Getou's cheek

Getou wiped it using his fingers, he put it inside his mouth, shaking on how sweet your cum taste

"Haa...n-no more..." But your dick didn't listen. it's still hot and hard

The two men stayed inside you, cockwarming them. Your body continues to be shaking, twicthing. Its your body who begs for more not you

You heard your front door open a familiar voice you heard

"Oh, Y/N! Im back! Look what I bought! Bunch of lube and vibrator!" The voice of Gojo made your heart drop, you saw him enter the living room. Your eyes filled with tears of how shocked he looked

"Toru....I'm sorry I'm such a bad husband..." You sniffled your tears, looking away from him ashamed of how you look. A whore who who just fucked his coworkers and friends

The two men inside you decideds to pull out, bunch of cum leaving your insides a small puddle of cum on the couch

You felt Gojo hands patted your head lovingly

"The others are on their way, Sukuna, Naoya, and Toji...so while we wait want another round?" Your eyes showed confusion. You want to stop, but your dick keeps getting hard . With hesitation, you nodded. After this, you want an explanation

[enkvyu]

7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine

"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."

"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."

you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."

gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"

you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.

the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.

sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.

granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.

the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.

and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.

"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.

"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."

"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"

you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."

"ouch!"

"that didn't hurt you."

"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."

"oh boohoo."

"so you are mad."

you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."

"you're sulking."

"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"

gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.

"i have something to tell you."

you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"

"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"

"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"

"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."

you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"

"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."

you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"

"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."

it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."

gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"

the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.

“what’s going on?”

the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.

the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"

"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"

"are you kidding, we're going to die!"

gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.

you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.

with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?

with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.

"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.

he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.

a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.

you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.

gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.

getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."

you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"

getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"

your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.

"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.

you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"

"for surviving."

"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.

gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.

"then don't drink it."

"no. give me your one instead."

getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."

"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."

"no. i just told you i got this for me."

gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"

getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."

you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.

"are you feeling sick?"

you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.

"huh?"

"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."

ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."

getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.

he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.

"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."

“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.

“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”

you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.

"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.

"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."

you want to break his arm.

getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.

gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."

"so."

"it's really bright, huh."

"you're wearing sunglasses."

"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."

"just push your glasses up then."

"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."

"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.

"your mum said that, actually."

"are you a child?"

"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."

"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."

the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.

"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.

the peace you had come to, shatters.

"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."

"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"

"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"

you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"

gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."

"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"

"what?"

"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."

"i never said that!"

"then who were you talking about?"

"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

you gulp. "i asked first."

he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.

"tch."

"did you just click your tongue at me?"

gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."

"huh? speak for yourself!"

"you have a problem with me?"

"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."

when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"

the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.

"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.

gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.

"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.

gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.

the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.

he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."

"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."

gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.

"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?

"i'm saying that i think i like—"

"there you guys are!"

your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"

"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"

"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.

you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."

before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"

without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"

"but the mood was so right!"

"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"

gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.

there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.

defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.

with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.

gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.

i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!

[kairiscorner]

✧˚ · . just friends with suguru getou.

🍰 genre: fluff !!

✒️ word count: 924

💭 summary: you both swear, you're just friends... but friends don't know the way you like to be held, how to make you feel butterflies in your stomach, do they?

💗 special mentions: @moonswolfie @xoxo-cha

🍥 author's note: y'all i can fix him i swear (i didn't know how to end it so i'm sorry if it ain't good enough 💔)

as suguru lay on his bed in the dormitory, silently reading a book, you figured things were too quiet for such a fleeting weekend. you decided to engage in your favorite pastime: annoying the hell out of him. you kept whining how boring today was, how there was nothing to do; how much you wanted to go to the nearest amusement park or arcade and just drag him everywhere. this kind of pestering would usually annoy someone else, but suguru wasn't just someone else to you; sure he was your friend, but... there was a sort of unspoken connection between you two; an invisible boundary you both step over time and time again, but never fully discuss about. you both pretended as though nothing's more than just friendly between you two, that those little touches and gestures you both do for each other—all the tolerance and fondness you two have built up towards each other is nothing more than a friendly relationship. nothing more than that, definitely not.

the boy chuckles as he looks over at you from behind his book, a sweet smirk dancing on his lips. "bored?" "extremely." your childish groan of a response elicits a laugh from the boy, forcing him to sit up and put his book away. "well... what do you want to do?" he asks you in a hushed whisper, his hazelnut colored eyes and darling grin making you feel hot in the face as you stared back at him while you lay down on your back, with his upside down image in your eyes stifling a chuckle at how cute you looked.

"keep looking at me all cutely and i might forget we're friends." he jokes as he lies back down on his back, teasingly placing one leg over your stomach, making you whine again. "sugu!" you exclaim in faux annoyance. "what, my lovely? am i too heavy?" he teases, knowing full well how you like being teased like this, and believe it or not... he likes it a lot, too. his smirk widens as he places his other leg on your stomach, crossing his legs and squishing you. "so tiny..." he mumbles under his breath as you pout, trying to push his legs off while he, in all his classy douchebag fashion, effortlessly pushes his legs back down onto your stomach, chuckling at your futile resistance.

"you're an asshole, sugu..." "i'll take that, you know satoru can't be the only asshole to you." he quipped, making you furrow your eyebrows in false frustration the minute you got out of his legs' grasp. you lay down next to him on his bed, placing your arms on his chest in an effort to push him back down onto the bed to lie down with you. "yeah, he's an ass, but... you're a weirdly special kind of asshole." you mutter in a hushed, sentimental tone. suguru gives a small snort at that, smiling wider. "so, i have the nicer ass?" "not like that!" you exclaim, playfully hitting his chest, making him laugh harder. "sure... if you were to choose between us, though, who'd be your pick?" he asked you with a sly voice. his question was quite vague, really, so you held off answering by telling him so. "too vague?" he repeats, sneakily wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest.

"fine, uh... if you were to be... in a relationship with either of us... who would you pi—" "neither of you." you say in a sweet tone, smiling all innocently to seal the deal. suguru looked at you with a sort of surprised expression, was he getting mixed signals from you all this time? was he being too presumptuous of your feelings for him? for a split second, his cheeks are tinted with a slight shade of red, and he utters something under his breath that you couldn't make out.

you look up into his eyes and poke his cheek. "why? why'd you ask?" suguru stayed silent for a few seconds, formulating a made up excuse in his head, but only a small chuckle escaped his sweet lips. "i just, um... thought you'd choose him because of how close you two are." "ugh, nah, he's cool but also such a maniac sometimes." now that makes suguru laugh heartily, you can't remember when he's laughed like this before. "really? a maniac? as if you aren't?" "you're more maniacal than me, suguru getou." "i guess i am, because... i think you're more than just my friend sometimes." he whispers, looking at your face in such an ethereal way; you've never been looked at with such kind, selfless eyes before, that held nothing but pure adoration for you in them.

he tries to shift the topic immediately with some small talk that you couldn't care less about, but you wanted to keep him pinned right then and there about his confession—so you took the plunge and kissed him. on his bed. on that lazy, uneventful weekend afternoon that felt like all time had slowed down. your legs were wrapped around his, like how friends do; your hands were on his chest, gripping at his shirt and pulling him closer into the kiss, like how friends do—you pulled away for a second to catch your breath, and with a soft voice that only he could hear... you uttered those words he never dreamed of hearing would come from you, because he never felt that it was possible.

"i love you, suguru."

like how friends do.

[satorulovebot]

── cigarattes & whisky | ch. 02

↳ satoru gojou x suguru getou x reader

genre — angst, fluff, modern au, cowboys, 18+ 

word count — 7.7k

tags/warnings — drug use (smoking), profanity, alcohol, sexual tension (i’m sorry), minor sexual content (its nothing tbh)

author’s notes — so i've decided to keep this theme because it's growing on me. anyways some things happen unlike cursed seas where i can't get to the damn point but here we are. anyways enjoy some sexual tension because i can’t help myself and as always thank you for the love and rb’s are always appreciated :)

prev. welcome to lone star ranch | next. (coming soon)

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of your room, casting a golden hue over the worn wooden floorboards. The ranch was still quiet, the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves outside and the distant chirping of birds greeting the dawn. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, stretching in bed as you tried to shake off the soreness from sleep.

You threw on your work clothes which consisted of denim and a flannel, a comfortable fit that had quickly become your uniform since arriving at the ranch. As you laced up your boots, you could hear the faint sounds of the ranch waking up—the low hum of voices in the distance, the clatter of metal against metal as someone prepared the morning’s feed, the soft snorts and whinnies of the horses in the stables.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the crisp morning air. You took a deep breath, savoring the clean, earthy scent of the ranch—the smell of hay, leather, and the faint scent of sweat and dirt.

You headed toward the stables, your boots crunching on the gravel path as you walked. The early morning was your favorite time of day here; the ranch was peaceful. It was a time to gather your thoughts and to center yourself before the day’s work began.

As you approached the stables, you spotted Getou already at work as he tended to the horses. His long hair was pulled back in a loose bun, a few strands escaping to frame his face as he moved about.

“Morning,” you called out as you approached, your voice cutting through the quiet.

Getou glanced up giving you a nod. “Morning.”

You stepped into the stables and the horses nickered softly as you approached, their large, expressive eyes watching you with curiosity. You reached out to pat the nose of one of the horses, a beautiful Mustang with a buckskin coat. He snorted softly, leaning into your touch.

Getou continued to work as he checked the horses, making sure they were fed and watered before the day’s work began. You watched him for a moment as you admired the way he seemed to have a connection with the animals, a quiet understanding that required no words.

“You’re getting the hang of things,” Getou said after a while, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

You glanced over at him, surprised by his comment. “Thanks,” you replied, feeling a small sense of pride at his words.

Getou didn’t say anything more, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor. It wasn’t much, but coming from him, it felt really good.

The two of you continued to work in silence. The tasks were simple—feeding the horses, cleaning the stalls, and preparing the tack. As you finished up, you caught sight of Satoru approaching from the direction of the main house. 

“Hey, you two look like you’re having fun,” Satoru called out as he neared, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone.

You rolled your eyes, already bracing yourself for whatever bullshit he had lined up. “Just getting work done,” you muttered.

Satoru grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe of the stable. “And doing a damn fine job of it, if I do say so myself,” he said, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that made your skin prickle

“Are you here to help or just to stand around and watch?” you shot back.

Satoru’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I’m definitely here to help. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m just some lazy ranch owner who lets everyone else do the hard work.”

He pushed off from the doorframe and stepped closer and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You could see the way his eyes seemed to linger on you just a little too long.

Getou, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally spoke up. “We’ve got it under control, Satoru.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Getou’s intervention. “I’m sure you do, Suguru,” he replied, his voice laced with mock seriousness. “But I think our new ranch hand could use a bit of extra motivation today.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing he was up to something. “And what kind of motivation are we talking about?”

Satoru's grin turned sly, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping, “How about a little challenge? I’ve got a group of horses that need rounding up from the far pasture. Think you can handle it?”

It was a test, plain and simple. Satoru was pushing you, seeing if you were really up to the task. The far pasture was on rough terrain, and the horses there were known for being particularly aggressive.

But there was no way you were going to back down now, not with Satoru watching. “I can handle it.”

“Good,” Satoru said, his grin widening. “Then let’s see what you’ve got.”

With that, he turned and strode out of the stable, clearly expecting you to follow. You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Getou, who was watching you with that same unreadable expression.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked quietly.

You squared your shoulders, “I’ll be fine,” you said. If you were being honest, it was more to convince yourself than him.

You followed Satoru out of the stable, the morning sun climbing higher into the sky as the warmth began to chase away the last remnants of the cold morning. The ranch was fully awake now, with the sounds of activity filling the air—workers shouting to one another, horses being led out to the fields, the clanging of metal from the little blacksmith shed.

As you trailed behind Satoru, you couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t ready. The far pasture was no joke. The horses out there were notorious for their stubbornness and unpredictable behavior. It was the kind of job that demanded experience and a steady hand—neither of which you were sure you had.

But you couldn’t afford to show any weakness, not in front of Satoru. He might have been charming and playful most of the time, but you knew better than to underestimate him. Beneath that carefree exterior, there was a sharp mind always calculating, always testing the people around him. And right now, you were the one under the microscope.

You caught up to him as he reached the corral, where a few of the ranch hands were already saddling up the horses. Satoru turned to you, “You ready for this?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

“Always.”

Satoru’s lips twitched into a smirk, but there was a glint in his eyes that told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Let’s see if that holds up,” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for you to catch.

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you shot back, surprising even yourself with the sharpness of your words.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by your tone, but the smirk never left his face. “That’s the spirit,” he said, “Let’s get this show on the road, then.”

You bit back any further retort, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you riled up. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, quickly grabbing a saddle and preparing one of the horses. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t afford to let your nerves get the better of you—not now.

Satoru was already on his horse by the time you were mounted up on yours. His was a sleek black stallion that looked just as unruly as the horses you were about to round up. He sat tall in the saddle with that damn smirk still plastered on his face.

“Try to keep up,” he called over to you.

You didn’t bother responding, instead digging your heels into the horse’s sides and urging it into a trot. Following Satoru out of the corral, the two of you began heading toward the far pasture. The path was narrow, bordered by thick brush and the occasional jutting rock that you had to steer around carefully.

After what felt like an eternity, you reached the edge of the far pasture. The land opened up into a wide expanse, the grass tall and golden under the midday sun. You could see the horses in the distance, a small group of them grazing near a cluster of trees.

Satoru reined in his horse, glancing over at you. “Alright, here’s the deal,” he said, his tone turned serious for once. “We need to get them back to the main corral. They’re likely to scatter if we spook them, so we’ll have to be quick and precise.”

“No shit,” you muttered under your breath, but Satoru either didn’t hear you or chose to ignore it.

He continued, his eyes scanning the pasture. “You’ll take the left flank, I’ll take the right. We’ll drive them in together, but keep your wits about you. These bastards are known for being unpredictable.”

“Got it,” you breathed as you gripped the reins tightly.

Satoru gave you a quick nod before spurring his horse into motion, veering off to the right. You took a deep breath and did the same, guiding your horse to the left as you began to circle the group of horses.

As you closed in on them, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. The horses were already getting skittish, their heads jerking up as they caught sight of you and Satoru moving in on them. 

“Easy,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing as you tried to keep your horse calm. The last thing you needed was for your mount to panic and throw you off.

Moving in closer, your eyes locked onto the horse as you and Satoru began to corral them, closing the gap between the two of you.

But then, as if on cue, one of the horses—a large mare with a dark-colored coat and a wild look in its eyes—snorted loudly and bolted. The rest of the group followed suit as they scattered in all directions.

“Ah Shit!” you cursed, digging your heels into your horse’s sides as you took off after them.

Satoru was already chasing after the runaway horses as you followed suit you could feel the wind whipping past your face as you raced to catch up.

You caught the bay-colored horse first by cutting it off before it could disappear into the trees. The horse came to a stop, its eyes wide in fear but you managed to keep it from running away again and slowly guided it back toward the main group.

“Nice work!” Satoru shouted from across the field as he brought his group of horses under control.

Little by little, you and Satoru managed to round up all the horses and guide them back toward the pasture. Finally, After what felt like hours, you managed to get all the horses into the paddock.

You sat back in your saddle as your chest heaved from trying to catch your breath. You were exhausted and your entire body was sore from your efforts.

You’d done it.

Satoru made his way over to you, looking just as worn out as you were. But there was a look in his eyes that told you he was proud of you.

“Well, shit,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “You actually pulled it off.”

You managed to give him a tired smile, wiping the sweat from your brow. “I told you I could handle it.”

Satoru chuckled lowly, “Guess I’ll have to start taking you seriously, then.”

For a moment neither of you spoke.

Finally, Satoru broke the silence, “Come on, let’s get these horses back to the corral. We’ve earned ourselves a break.”

You nodded turning your horse around to start the journey back to the ranch house. Satoru and his horse fell into the same rhythm as you and your horse. The two of you rode in silence for a while until you neared the main buildings.

As you approached the corral, Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar silver case. He flipped it open with one hand, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it all while still holding the reigns. The scent of tobacco filled the air as he took a long drag, gray smoke curling lazily in the air.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight. There was something so alluring about the way he smoked like he was so unbothered by what just happened.

But you weren't going to let him get under your skin. Not this time.

When the two of you reached the corral, the other ranch hands hurried over to take the horses. Satoru slid off his horse—effortlessly, of course—before handing the reins off. You followed suit in getting off the horse, or you tried to, as your legs were aching from the ride, and you almost fell flat on your face.

"Careful there," Satoru teased, the cigarette hanging lazily from his lips as he leaned against the fence, watching you with an infuriatingly amused expression. "Wouldn’t want you face-planting in front of the boys. They might start thinking you’re just here to look pretty."

You shot him a glare "Fuck off.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Ooh, feisty. I like it when you talk dirty."

You rolled your eyes, unwilling to let him get a rise out of you. "You’re unbelievable, you know that?"

"Believe it, darlin'," he replied with a wink, taking another drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out slowly. "But I gotta admit, you handled yourself out there. I might have underestimated you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Damn right you did."

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. "How about I make it up to you? We can head over to the saloon, and grab a drink. My treat. You know, as a peace offering for being such an asshole earlier."

You hesitated, the offer tempting even though you knew it was just another one of his games. Satoru wasn’t the type to apologize sincerely, and you doubted this was anything more than an excuse to mess with you further. But the idea of a cold drink after the morning’s ordeal was hard to resist.

"Fine," you said finally, "But don’t think this means I’m letting you off the hook."

Satoru chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Wouldn’t dream of it, sugar."

The walk to the saloon was quiet, the ranch bustling with activity around you. Workers nodded in greeting as you passed, their faces a mix of curiosity and surprise. It wasn’t often they saw Satoru heading to the saloon with anyone other than his usual crowd, and you couldn’t help but feel their eyes on you as you walked alongside him.

The walk to the saloon was quiet, with the ranch bustling with activity around you. You had no idea there was a saloon here, but considering the closest town is a 45-minute drive, you shouldn’t be that surprised. You learned it was owned by one of the other ranch owners in the area.

When you reached the saloon, Satoru held the door open for you, a gesture that you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at. The interior was dimly lit, the air filled with the scent of whiskey and tobacco. A few of the ranch hands were already there, sitting at the bar or playing cards at the scattered tables.

Satoru led you to a table near the back, away from the others, pulling out a chair for you.

"Such a gentleman," you muttered, taking the seat anyway.

"Only the best for you, sweetheart," he replied with a wink before heading to the bar to grab your drinks.

He returned a moment later with two glasses of whiskey, setting one down in front of you before taking the seat across from you. He leaned back in his chair as he took a sip of his drink.

"To surviving the wild ones," he said, raising his glass in a mock toast.

You clinked your glass against his, taking a sip of the whiskey. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome distraction, cutting through the lingering tension in your muscles.

"Not bad," you admitted, setting the glass down.

Satoru’s smile softened slightly, "You’re tougher than you look, you know that?"

"Thanks, I guess.” You were unsure of how to take the compliment.

He shrugged, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Just calling it like I see it."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the noise of the saloon fading into the background. For the first time since you’d met him, Satoru wasn’t pushing your buttons just to see how you’d react. Instead, he seemed content to just sit there with you.

After a while, Satoru set his glass down. "You ever think about why you came out here?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated before answering. "I… I wanted a fresh start," you said finally, your voice quieter than you’d intended. "Needed to get away from everything back home."

Satoru nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, I figured as much. This place has a way of drawing in folks who are looking to escape something."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the conversation suddenly feeling too heavy, too close to the truth you weren’t ready to face. "What about you?" you asked, trying to shift the focus away from yourself.

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "Oh, I’ve got my reasons. But that’s a story for another time."

You didn't push the subject further, sensing that whatever lay behind his carefree facade was something he wasn't ready to share. Instead, you finished your drink in silence, letting the warmth of the whiskey settle in your chest.

When your glasses were empty, Satoru stood up and tossed a few bills onto the table. "Come on, let’s head back.”

You followed him out of the saloon, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the ranch. As you reached the stables, Satoru turned to you, his expression unreadable. "You did well today.”

"Thanks," you replied, feeling your face flush at his words.

He gave you one last smile before heading off to take care of his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

So… Satoru and Getou decided you should learn how to shoot a gun. Not their brightest idea but you decided to go along with it. Besides what’s the worst that could happen? You had some experience with a gun.

As you walked alongside Satoru and Getou you were heading toward the far end of the property where a makeshift shooting range had been set up.

Satoru sauntered beside you with his usual cocky grin in place. Getou walked on your other side and you could feel him watching you, waiting to see how you would handle yourself.

The range was a simple setup with a few targets spaced out in the distance. Satoru leaned against the fence, arms crossed over his chest, the ever-present cigarette dangling from his lips as he took a long drag.

“You ever shot before?” Satoru asked.

“A few times,” you replied. The truth was, you weren’t an expert, but you weren’t completely inexperienced either.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then,” he said, pushing off the fence and moving to the side, giving you a clear shot at the targets.

Getou stepped forward, holding out a revolver for you to take. His hand brushed against yours as you grabbed the gun. You glanced up at him, catching the briefest hint of a smirk before his expression returned to its usual calm mask.

“Don’t let Satrou’s bullshit get to you,” Getou murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Just focus on the target.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned your attention to the range. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before raising it, lining up your shot with the first target.

The air seemed to still be around you as you squeezed the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the open field. The recoil was stronger than you expected, but you kept your grip steady. Walking up to the target, you saw that you had hit it—barely, but it was a hit.

“Not bad,” Satoru drawled, “But you’re gripping it too tight. You gotta relax a little, let the gun do some of the work.”

You resisted the urge to snap back at him, knowing that he was right. Instead, you nodded, adjusting your grip slightly before aiming at the next target.

This time, the shot was cleaner, the bullet hitting closer to the center. You allowed yourself a small smile of satisfaction, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit.

“Better,” Getou said, his tone approving as he moved to stand beside you. “But you’re still hesitating. Don’t overthink it.”

You shot him a sidelong glance, your heartbeat quickening as you noticed how close he was standing—close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of tobacco and leather clinging to him. 

“You wanna show her how it’s done, Suguru?” Satoru’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to see him watching the two of you with a knowing smirk, the cigarette between his fingers smoldering as he took another drag.

Getou didn’t respond immediately, but you saw the subtle shift in his expression. He took the revolver from you, his fingers brushing against yours again, and the contact sent another shiver down your spine. He stepped forward and raised the gun.

The sound of the shot was sharp and precise, and when you looked at the target, you saw that Getou had hit it dead center. He lowered the gun, turning to you with a calm, almost bored expression, as if what he’d just done was no big deal.

“Like that,” he said simply, handing the revolver back to you.

There was no denying that Getou was good—damn good—but it wasn’t just his skill that had your heart racing. It was the way he’d looked at you, the way he’d stood so close, the way he’d silently challenged you to match him.

“Don’t let him show you up, now,” Satoru teased, his voice laced with amusement as he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground and crushed it under his boot. He moved to stand on your other side, close enough that you could feel the brush of his arm against yours. “You’ve got it in you. Just gotta let go a little.”

The tension between the three of you crackled like electricity, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. You knew they were both testing you, pushing you to see how far you could go, and you weren’t about to back down.

Taking a deep breath, you raised the revolver again, forcing yourself to block out the distractions, to focus solely on the target. The weight of Satoru and Getou’s gazes on you was heavy, almost suffocating, but you used it and channeled it into the shot as you squeezed the trigger.

The gun kicked in your hand, and you held your breath as you watched the bullet hit the target, this time dead center. A surge of satisfaction coursed through you, and you couldn’t help the small, triumphant smile that tugged at your lips.

“There you go,” Satoru said. He reached out, his fingers brushing the back of your hand as he took the revolver from you. The touch was fleeting, but it lingered, the warmth of his skin searing into yours.

Think you can keep up, Getou?”

Getou’s response was a slow, knowing smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat. “Try me.”

The two men squared off, the playful banter between them masking the intensity that simmered beneath the surface. They each took their turns, shooting at the targets with a skill that left you both impressed and unnerved. It was clear they’d done this many times before, the ease with which they handled the guns was a testament to their experience.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the range as the last shot echoed through the air. Satoru and Getou lowered their guns, turning to you with matching smirks that made your pulse quicken.

“Not bad, huh?” Satoru said with a lazy grin on his face.

“Could be better.”

Getou chuckled, the sound low and rich as he moved to stand on your other side. “You did good today.”

Silence then filled the air.

“We should head back.” Satoru was the first one to break the silence.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as the three of you began the walk back to the ranch house.

As you walked, Satoru reached into his pocket, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it with a practiced flick of his lighter. He took a long drag, the end glowing brightly in the fading light, before exhaling a cloud of smoke into the cool evening air.

He then offered the cigarette to you. You hesitated for a moment before taking it, your fingers brushing against his as you brought it to your lips. The taste of tobacco was sharp on your tongue.

You handed the cigarette back to Satoru as he took another drag, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. Getou watched the exchange in silence.

As the three of you continued the walk back to the ranch, the sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving you in the soft evening light.

But as you glanced at Satoru and Getou, both of them walking silently beside you, you knew that the day’s events had only deepened the tension between you. Something in your gut told you this was just the start, that whatever was simmering beneath the surface was far from over.

There was a storm brewing, one that had been building since the moment you set foot on the ranch. And as much as you tried to resist it, you knew that it was only a matter of time before it broke.

You had been told that you would finally get to meet the rest of the ranch hands. After all, these were the people you’d be working with closely, day in and day out.

As you approached the stables, you spotted Satoru and Getou standing off to the side, deep in conversation. They noticed you almost immediately and Satoru waved you over.

“Morning,” Satoru called out, his voice as cheerful as ever. “Ready to meet the rest of the crew?”

You nodded, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Getou gave you a small nod of acknowledgment before leading the way into the stables.

The first person you met was Toji. He was leaning against the wooden fence, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark hair was tousled, and his sharp green eyes observed you as you approached. You could tell he was someone who didn’t take shit from anyone.

“So, you’re the new recruit,” Toji said, his voice low and rough. “Name’s Toji. I handle the tougher jobs around here.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Toji’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave a curt nod and turned his attention back to the horses. It wasn’t exactly a warm welcome, but it wasn’t cold either—more like a test, as if he was waiting to see how you’d fit in.

Next, you were introduced to Nanami. He was the complete opposite of Toji in every way. Tall and composed, with blond hair neatly slicked back. He seemed almost out of place. He was dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks, looking more like he belonged in an office rather than out in the fields.

“Nanami,” he introduced himself with a firm handshake. “I oversee the financial and logistical aspects of the ranch.”

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “On top of working here?”

Nanami gave a small, tight-lipped smile. “Yes, it’s a multifaceted job. I prefer to keep things in order.”

It was clear that Nanami’s attitude was a stark contrast to Satoru’s attitude.

Moving on, you were introduced to Sukuna, who was perched on a wooden crate, sharpening a knife. His striking tattoos and piercing red eyes made him impossible to miss. He looked up as you approached, his lips curling into a smirk that was anything but friendly.

“Sukuna,” he drawled, his voice a low rumble. “I take care of the less pleasant tasks around here.”

You didn’t need to ask what those tasks were. You could feel his eyes on you long after you moved on, the weight of his gaze unsettling.

Next, you met Megumi. He was younger than the others, with dark, spiky hair and a brooding expression that made him look older than he actually was. Despite his serious demeanor, there was something about him that reminded you of Getou.

“Megumi,” he said simply, not offering much more than that.

You smiled, trying to ease the tension. “It’s nice to meet you, Megumi.”

He gave a small nod but didn’t say anything else, his attention already shifting back to the task at hand.

Yuuji, on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air. With his bright pink hair and infectious smile, he was the opposite of Megumi in every way. He approached you with an easygoing grin, offering a handshake that turned into a friendly pat on the back.

“Yuuji Itadori! I’m usually around wherever there’s work to be done,” he said with a laugh. “If you need help with anything, just let me know.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. Yuuji’s energy was very contagious, and you had a feeling the two of you would get along.

Next was Yuuta. He was a bit more reserved and soft-spoken. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he introduced himself.

“Yuuta Okkotsu,” he said, his voice quiet but sincere. “I handle the medical care for the animals and sometimes the people around here.”

Shokou, the ranch’s medic, was the next person you met. She was lounging against the stable wall, cigarette in hand.

“Shokou Ieiri,” she said with a lazy wave, taking a drag from her cigarette. “I’m the one you’ll come to if you get hurt. Just try not to do anything too stupid.”

You chuckled, appreciating her dry humor. “I’ll do my best.”

Finally, you met Nobara and Yuki. Nobara was a fiery redhead and very confident. She greeted you with a firm handshake and a sharp look that said she didn’t tolerate anyone’s shit.

“Nobara Kugisaki,” she said. “I’m in charge of supplies and making sure everything runs smoothly around here.”

Yuki Tsukumo, on the other hand, was more laid-back than the rest. She leaned against the stable door, her hands in her pockets as she introduced herself.

“Yuki,” she said simply. “I’m usually around, helping out wherever I’m needed.”

Yuki reminded you a lot of Satoru, but more grounded.

Satoru clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “Well, now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get to work!”

You found yourself in the ranch house's kitchen later that evening, the warm glow of the overhead lights creating a cozy atmosphere. After the long day, you were grateful for a moment of peace. As you reached for a glass of water, the creak of the wooden floorboards alerted you to someone else’s presence.

Turning, you saw Getou leaning casually against the doorway. He was holding a bottle of whisky and two glasses, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

“Thirsty?” he asked, lifting the bottle slightly as he stepped into the room.

You smiled, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “Depends on what you’re offering.”

Getou chuckled softly, “Whisky. Thought you might need something stronger after today.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And what makes you think that?”

He shrugged, setting the glasses down on the table and pouring a generous amount into each. “I’ve seen how overwhelming it can be, being the new one on the ranch. Figured you might want some company.” You stepped closer, taking the glass he offered and meeting his gaze as you did.

“Thanks, Suguru,” you said, testing the waters with his first name.

A spark of surprise flashed in his eyes. “So, we’re on a first-name basis now?”

You shrugged, taking a sip of the whisky. “Why not? We’re going to be working together, after all.”

“True. I guess it’s only fair. And you can call me Suguru.”

As you took another sip, Suguru stepped closer. You could smell the faint scent of his cologne, it was earthy and warm and mingled with the whisky in the air. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way that you hadn’t expected.

“So,” he began, his voice a low murmur, “what do you think of the ranch so far?”

“It’s...different. A lot to take in, but it’s good. Everyone’s been...interesting.”

Suguru’s lips twitched in amusement. “Interesting? That’s one way to put it.”

“Well, you’ve got quite the cast of characters here. But I guess you know that.”

He nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Yeah, we’re a bit of a diverse crew, but we get the job done. And now you’re part of that crew.”

“I hope I can keep up.”

“I’m sure you will,” Suguru said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’ve got that fire in you. I can see it.”

Suguru’s eyes flicked to your lips, just for a second, before returning to meet yours. The gesture was so subtle that you might have missed it if you weren’t already hyper-aware of every movement, every breath.

“Tell me,” he continued, his voice a low rumble, “what made you come to the Lone Star Ranch?”

“I needed something different. A change of scenery,” you said finally, your voice quiet. “Wanted to leave some things behind.”

“Running from something?”

“Yeah,” you murmured.

“We all have our reasons for being here. Some of us are running, too.”

There was a vulnerability in his words that you hadn’t expected. He was sharing a piece of you with himself and that put a small smile on your face.

“You don’t seem like the running type,” you said, your voice softer now.

“Maybe not.”

Suguru took another sip of his whisky, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re stronger than you think y’know,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “Don’t let this place—or anyone here—make you doubt that.”

Suguru’s gaze softened, and he set his glass down on the table, stepping even closer and you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Remember,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “if you ever need anything—anything at all—you can come to me.”

There was no mistaking the double meaning in his words, the unspoken offer hanging in the air between you. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to form a coherent response.

Your breath hitched as your heart pounded in your chest. There was no mistaking in the meaning of his words. 

Before you could say anything, Suguru reached out and brushed his hand against your cheek. His touch was warm and you could feel his calloused hands from the years of hard work.

For a moment, it felt like time stood still, the world outside the kitchen fading into the background.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the moment passed. Suguru pulled back, his expression shifting to something more guarded.

“Goodnight,” he said softly.

You nodded, unable to find your voice as you watched him turn and walk away, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

The walls you’d put up, the distance you’d tried to keep, had started to crumble, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

You stayed rooted to the spot in the kitchen, the warmth from the whisky doing little to quell the rush of emotions that surged within you. The room was quiet now, save for the ticking of a clock on the wall, but the air was still thick with the lingering presence of Suguru. His words echoed in your mind, each one laced with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You could still feel the phantom touch of his fingers against your cheek, the warmth of his hand that had sent shivers down your spine. It had been a brief, almost fleeting gesture, but it carried a weight that was hard to ignore. The subtle brush of skin against skin had left a mark that you couldn’t shake, a sensation that seemed to burrow beneath your skin and linger long after he’d stepped away.

You knew Suguru was reserved, a man of few words who rarely let anyone in. But in that moment, he had opened a door—just a crack—and allowed you a glimpse of something deeper, something raw and unguarded. It made you want to step through that door, to explore the uncharted territory that lay beyond it.

But you were also wary. The ranch was already a place full of tension and unspoken dynamics, and you didn’t want to complicate things further. You weren’t sure where you stood with Suguru—or with anyone else on the ranch, for that matter. The last thing you wanted was to get entangled in something you couldn’t easily walk away from.

As you took another sip of whisky, trying to steady your nerves, you heard the faint creak of the floorboards again. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced toward the doorway, half-expecting to see Suguru standing there, his dark eyes watching you with that same expression he always had plastered on his face.

But the doorway was empty.

Your hand tightened around the glass as you replayed the conversation in your mind. Suguru had been careful with his words. The way he’d looked at you, the way he’d stepped closer, closing the distance between you, had made it clear that his intentions weren’t entirely innocent.

You were used to having control, to knowing exactly where you stood and what you wanted. But here, with Suguru, everything was like you were walking a tightrope with no clear idea of what waited at the other end.

The whisky burned slightly as it slid down your throat. You placed the glass on the table, the clink of the glass against wood echoing in the quiet room. 

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, you heard the sound of footsteps again. You turned toward the doorway, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suguru was back.

“I forgot something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

He stepped into the room, his movements were slow and measured, as if he was trying to gauge your reaction. “This.”

Suguru was in front of you before you could fully process his words. He reached out, his hand brushing against yours as he took the empty glass from your grip. Slowly, Suguru placed the glass on the table beside the whisky bottle.

“You’re not as easy to read as I thought,” Suguru said, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “But that just makes things more interesting.”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded in your chest. “And what exactly do you think you’re reading?”

Suguru’s lips curved into a slow smile. “I think you know.”

As quickly as it started, it ended. Suguru pulled back and took a step back putting distance between the two of you. Somehow you couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

“Goodnight.”

And then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

The door clicked shut behind him, and you were alone once more. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You hadn’t moved from the spot where Suguru had left you. The whisky sat untouched on the table. Forgotten.

Then, you heard it—a soft creak of the floorboards just outside the kitchen. You weren’t sure how long he’d been there, watching, but there was no mistaking the person standing in the doorway.

Satoru.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air was thick like there was a taut string that could snap at any second. You weren’t sure if you should say something, break the silence that hung between you, or you should wait for him to make the first move. Your breath was shallow, your senses heightened to every small sound, every subtle shift in the atmosphere.

And then, slowly, deliberately, Satoru stepped into the room. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, his gaze flicking from you to the door Suguru had left through, and then back to you.

“I saw you,” he said finally.

“Didn’t think you’d make a move so fast, Suguru,” Satoru continued, “I thought I’d get a turn first.”

Before you could process his words, another figure appeared in the doorway—Suguru. He came back, though you didn't how long he’d been standing there. 

“You always were impatient, Satoru,” Suguru breathed. “But I suppose there’s enough of her to go around.”

Satoru’s eyes darkened, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Well, then,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “Let’s see if she can handle both of us.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as Satoru closed the distance between you in one fluid motion. His hand came up to cup your jaw bringing his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, your pulse quickening as he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin.

But before Satoru could close the gap completely, Suguru moved in from the other side. You felt his presence at your back, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as he slid his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Relax,” Suguru murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your ear. “Let us take care of you.”

Satoru’s hand slid down from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back slightly. His lips hovered just above yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, but he didn’t kiss you—yet.

“Tell me,” Satoru murmured, his voice low and husky. “Do you want this?”

It was a loaded question, and you knew it. They both wanted you—there was no mistaking that—but they were giving you the choice, the power to decide if you wanted to do this. And despite the fear of what might happen next, there was a part of you that craved it, that wanted to see what would happen.

You nodded, your voice barely more than a whisper as you replied, “Yes.”

That single word was all it took. Satoru’s lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss, his hand tightening in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a ferocity that made your head spin. The taste of him was intoxicating and you found yourself leaning into the kiss, your hands fisting in his shirt as you pulled him closer.

At the same time, Suguru’s hands roamed over your body, his touch calm and calculated. His lips found the pulse point at your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin that sent waves of pleasure through your body. You arched against him, the sensation of his lips and Satoru’s kiss overwhelming your senses, drowning out everything but the feel of them against you.

Satoru broke the kiss first, his breath ragged as he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.

Before you could respond, Suguru turned you in his arms, pulling you away from Satoru and into his embrace. His lips found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that was the complete opposite of Satoru’s. Suguru’s kiss was deep and thorough, his tongue exploring your mouth with a patience that made your toes curl.

Satoru didn’t seem to mind sharing—if anything, he seemed to enjoy the sight of Suguru kissing you. His hands found their way to your hips, his touch possessive as he pulled you back against him. The sensation of being sandwiched between the two men, their hands and lips claiming you in different ways, was almost too much to bear.

Satoru’s lips found the side of your neck, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin as Suguru continued to kiss you, his hands sliding up your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The combination of their touches, their kisses, was dizzying, and you found yourself lost in the sensation, in the heat that built between the three of you.

Eventually, Suguru broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His dark eyes were full of lust as he looked at you, his hands still resting on your waist.

“We’re just getting started,” Suguru said, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

You didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could think better of it.

Satoru chuckled, the sound low. “That’s what I like to hear.”

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

taglist status: open

[sadistic-kiss]

🐺House of Alphas🐺

~Chapter 44 sneak peak ~

(Jujutsu Kaisen Omegaverse )

Summary: Waking up in a world that was not your own was problematic enough. Being the villainess was another. However, the possessive alphas might take the cake.

Disclaimer: Angsty but I ain’t Gege

Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sukuna x Alpha!Gojo x Alpha!Toji x Alpha!Nanami x Alpha!Getou

Chapter 44: Missing Link

~

...

Nanami had said something about you having to let your omega instincts take over so your body could adjust properly. You remember that. You remember reaching that threshold and then crossing it without much of a fight. It was quite nice, and you think it's getting easier and easier to get to that point. An obvious sign that your comfort with them was growing. You didn't feel as scared as before. Still scared- but it's getting better. The only puzzling thing is you don't remember how you got into your tent.

Much like last time.

Everything was going well, you were drowning in pleasure, and then poof you woke up in your tent. It was so weird. Perhaps you just passed out from cumming so much and all the cum you had... from Toji… Nanami...Getou and Gojo-oh- you must have been exhausted... You wondered when you threw in the towel because you were really on a roll. You couldn't believe how you sucked the life out of Nanami and Toji as greedy as you did, it made your face hot thinking about it. The way they panted above you unable to take their gazes off of you was something that graced your mind. And who could forget being fucked by Gojo and Getou- remembering both of their knots in you made your tummy flip and your thighs clench.

You squealed some more as you kicked your feet. It was all so good. It felt almost like a feverish dream...that you just woke up from...the ending seemingly unwritten. Maybe your alphas could help you fill in the blanks.

Did Sukuna get his turn? You don't remember that part. You told him he was next but did that actually occur?

You scootch up to open your tent- "Eek-" You slam a hand upon your mouth as a surprise gasp leaves your lips.

SPEAK OF THE FUCKING HEATHEN-

Sukuna was right outside your tent sitting with his legs crossed, arms folded and his head leaned down a bit. His eyes were closed, a soft snore reaching your ears letting you know he was in fact fast asleep.

Your eye twitched as you surveyed the quiet camp. Toji and Gojo's tents were opened meaning they were prowling the area but as far as inside the camp Sukuna was the only one out.

Why the hell was he sitting in front of your tent? Did this have something to do with your passing out? He must have been feeling left out since you took care of everyone else but him- as far as you could recall. Oh boy- you were probably in for one fabulous time with the fiend. However, before you wake up this beast you want to check on Junpei.

Slowly you began to crawl out of your tent ever so quietly, eyeing the alpha as you went centimeter by centimeter. Sneak mission activated- *Crack* You snap your gaze down looking at the twig that your hand just crushed. Then you looked back up to see red eyes glaring at you.

Holy Tengen you didn't even last a second into this sneak mission- immediate fail! Stealth skill was clearly dog shite.

"You-"

"Ai-!" You threw yourself back into your comfort as Sukuna growled.

"Get back out here!" he leaned closer, a breath away from entering your nest. Lips quivering as he snarled at you. A hungry beast through and through.

"G-Good evening-f-fine evening- wonderful weather we are having my alpha-"

"Don't give me that bullshit you knot tease, you left me!"

"I-I don't even remember what happened!"

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not!”

Sukuna smacked his teeth as he averted his gaze, "You can't be serious..."

"Um...I'm very serious... I don't remember anything after you know...like Nanami and Toji..."

"..." Sukuna took a deep breath as he shook his head.

You sat up a bit so you were a little closer to the alpha, trying to show him you meant no harm. Your orbs displayed your curiosity about what happened. You truly wanted to know why your mind went dark. It was kind of scary.

Sukuna looked at you with lowered lids this time, it seemed as if he were searching for something. "You're just saying that now."

Ah, he’s looking for deceit. Well lucky for you, you aren’t telling a tale.

"What? I'm not tricking you- like I really don't know what happened!"

...

~

*Read More*

[alieinthemorning]

Seen | Getou Suguru

Content: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Depression, Depressed Getou Suguru, AU: No Curses, AU: Modern Setting, Established Relationship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Not Beta Read, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Depression was like being underwater. 

And not like those pretty, fantastical dreams where you can breath fine and explore freely. 

You're being pulled under, deeper and deeper. The pressure is getting stronger, your ears are popping. Your chest is crushed, but your limbs are too heavy to even grasp at it. And it hurts, and hurts and hurts. but you can't do anything. Your mind is numb, and your eyes are closed.

And within these depths of despair. 

You sleep

Or rather

You drown.

Sleep seems to be the only thing Suguru is capable of doing lately.

Everyday for the past few weeks after returning home from work, you've found him in bed, curtains drawn, even breathing despite clenched fists tucked underneath the pillow.

And today was no different.

Returning home from yet another uneventful workday, you found the rest of the home untouched, unfeeling, and cold. Even as you wandered deeper within, hand resting against the chilly doorknob. After the third day, you stopped checking the microwave to see if he had touched the food you had left in there.

Once again, for the 19th time, you found him swept up underneath the wave of the covers. The curtains were still in the same position, and his hands were tightly balled against his chest, brows furrowed despite the slow raise and fall of his chest.

You watched him a bit longer, gaze lingering at the dark circles that seemed to get deeper everyday before ushering yourself to the bathroom for a long bath.

You sat in silence as the unused shower head wet your face from your eyes in fat rolls. You just accepted it in stride, making sure that the sound of the water was a quiet as possible and buried your head in your hands. Then once everything was composed, you exited the bathroom and joined him underneath the waves, making sure that your head was above water.

Because who would save either of you, if neither of you could reach out a hand to ask for help?

Despite your gentle dissuasion,  Suguru refused to miss the get-together that Satoru was hosting. 

"He would be so disappointed if his best friend didn't show up." Is what he told you, but you knew he was more worried about not making an appearance and having the others worry about it. 

As long as he showed up, everything would be fine, right?

Wrong, because Satoru was still Satoru after all. 

"Suguru, are you eating well?" Satoru asked, leaning over to eye his friend. 

Suguru chuckled, veiled without mirth. "I'm eating as I have been"

"You're lookin' a little skinny!" He chortled at his own joke before waltzing over to make him a plate, piling it up and placing it in front of him. 

There were a lot of meats, some sides and few cookies wrapped up in a paper towel. Even you wouldn't be able to stomach this monstrous of  plate.  You caught Suguru's nose crinkle in disgust for just a moment before he gave Satoru a closed eyed smile and thanked him. 

Satoru nodded at you, "Make sure he eats." then walked away, off to go bother another group of people. Or maybe get away from the dark cloud that surrounded the two of you. 

Satoru was still Satoru after all, and despite those absolutely stunning blue eyes that seemed to see right through you, he still couldn't truly see his best friend. He saw the man who he wanted the see, which was not far from who he actually was, but that was still disregarding a major part of him.

No matter how weak Satoru thought it made him.

You excused yourself for a moment, going to grab two canned drinks and an empty plate before returning to your spot besides Suguru. You placed one of the drinks in front of him, then started picking off his plate.  You made sure to eat slowly, keeping your eyes else where, but your focus was on him. A wave of relief washing over you when he began picking at his plate.

After a few bites, he muttered "This tastes like shit."

You didn't force him to eat more than he was comfortable with and when he began rolling his food around, you wordlessly collected his plate and tossed it with yours. Settling back beside him and placing a hand on his thigh under the table. After a while, his slid under yours hand. He didn't try to entwine them, just relished in the grounding weight of that small bit of yourself.

The two of you stayed like this until it was a socially acceptable time for you to leave the function. Bidding your time, and politely engaging conversations with those who would wander your way (with you dominating the discussion). The drive home was quiet, music playing lowly in the background. Your eyes were focused on the road, and Suguru's were closed in a uncomfortable sleep. 

Once home, you readied yourself for bed while he carelessly stripped down to his underwear and slid under the covers. You didn't scold him, even though the hamper was in the corner of the room and he could have easily stripped there and tossed them inside, you didn't scold him. Just put the clothes in there yourself and joined him in bed. 

Because you understood, you understood that desperate feeling of *needing* to get under the covers as soon as humanly possible. To hide yourself away from everything else and just be.

But you still couldn't escape everything. Because you escaped right into the arms of it. That sinful whisper that tells you that everything is better, safer with it under the covers, then traps you with what it called warmth. 

You were, unfortunately, getting used to returning to a cold home. An untouched plate still waiting in the microwave, a show-room-esque living room. Suguru trapped beneath the bottom of the ocean,  body still too numb to reach out for help. 

Today was different, however.  

Today you were greeted by the low hum of the television, a rerun of a show the two of you enjoyed together played. His gaze was on the screen, but his attention was far off elsewhere. He must be getting tempted again, you stopped the whispers before it could persuade him any further. 

"Have you started any of the new episodes?" You asked softly as you came up behind him. He shook his head no and you took his head in your hands, tilting it back, so that you could place a kiss on his forehead. "Let me shower then and we can watch an episode or two."

An episode or two became the whole season, not that you watched it all. You fell asleep on maybe the 8th episode, or at least that's what Suguru told you. You were the first to doze, which prompted Suguru to adjust the convertible sofa into a bed using fresh linen from the closet instead of the ones on the bed, and made it nice and cozy for the two of you. He also said that you snuggled real close to him, your face planted firmly against his neck  

"It's like you were afraid that I was gonna disappear on you." His voice was light, but there was distress behind his eyes.  He knew how bad it was getting, but he hadn't realize just how bad it was affecting  you as well. 

The two of you often talked about simply not existing and how it would be to no longer have to bear the the weight of the living while also firmly agreeing that despite these thoughts, neither of you planned to take your own life.  

But this...this reaching the cusp of that, and yeah, it did scare you. 

It terrified you.

But someone had to stay afloat to help him from the depths. 

"I think I was just really comfy." Was your lackluster response, before you stood, stretched and headed off into the kitchen. 

Upon entering, you eyes caught the single plate and fork that sat, dripping in the drying rack. As nonchalant as possible, you grabbed a paper towel and a few cookies.  It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to heat up your cookies before eating them, so using that as a cover you opened the microwave. 

It was empty. 

Then, as that was going, you check the trash, dusting off your cookie crumbled hands.

There was no food, or any sort of signs that food had been buried further. 

He had finally eaten a whole meal.

The relief that flooded you almost made you cry on the spot, but you couldn't because you had to stay afloat.

His head was above water, but only barely.

But his hand was extended out towards you.

And you were ready to grab it once he was in ready and in reach.

I freshly just finished the first bit of JJK S2 and it made me want to write this.

This is after me saying that I was too scared to write for this fandom because I didn't think I'd be able to portray the characters right.

Fuck that, I got shit to say.

And the shit I had to say was kinda dark actually. I guess this is what happens when you write instead of going to sleep lol.

Anyway, I have no idea if this will go any further than this tho. (Be still my SuguSato/Reader Heart)

Oh, and yes. Satoru did say skinny in the way that you're thinking.

Edit: Oh, look! A proper Masterlist!

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[beembeem]

Do you mind writing Jjk men taking their child/children to the pool 🤔(lmk if you do mind)

Omg sure! I had a lot of fun writing this! Oh! And since it was never really specified for some characters, the kids are about 6-8! (Non sorcerer au)

(Gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna)

Gojo:

"Megumiii! You have to kick your legs!" Gojo yelled from the side of the pool. The now seven year old megumi was standing in cm water (or 5 inches) and trying to put his swimming lessons to good use. "Look, I'll show you!" Gojo jumped into the pool and walked across the tiled pool floor to get to megumi. Gojo helped megumi float and practice kicking. After getting seemingly enough practice, Gojo moved aside and let megumi do his own thing. As he watched megumi (try to) swim, he made a mental note to give him extra swimming lessons.

Getou:

"Don't move around too much, or I'll sink," geto joked as he floated through the water "is that true" nanako raised an eyebrow "of course its true it happened to my friend satoru" geto stated matter of factly getou turned his head when mimiko breached the water and let out the breath she was holding "how long was that getou? I think it was about five hours!" Mimiko beamed "really? I think it was more like 50!" Nanako laughed, and they excitedly turned to getou "was about 15 seconds, but you were so close to 50 hours!" He laughed.

Nanami:

Nanami sat on the floor of the kiddie pool, watching his five year old daughter as she splashed around in the pool "dad can I go on the slide?" She asked, pointing at the little dinosaur shaped slide on the edge of the pool." Are you sure you can handle the slide?" He raised an eyebrow, and his daughter nodded aggressively "fine" he sighed, and his daughter grabbed his hand and dragged him to the slide. "Dad, are you going to have a turn?" She asked while smiling "no" nanami stated, and his daughter frowned." I know it's a big slide, but you can't let your fears stop you from having fun!" She cried, and nanami raised his eyebrow and turned to look at the 25 cm (10 inches) tall slide and then turned to look back at his daughter."You're right." His daughter beamed at that statement,"but I'm not scared. I genuinely wouldn't fit"

Sukuna:

A splash was heard as an eight year old yuuji was flung into the pool. Uraume stared at the pink haired man while Sukuna stood at the edge and tapped his foot impatiently while staring at the water " i- I don't think he's gonna come up" uraume said with a hint of concern in their voice "he will! The men in my family are strong swimmers, " he said, still focusing on the spot. yuuji was supposed to resurface at " sukuna! He isn't coming up, " uraume stated."Five more seconds, " sukuna watched the water intensely and dived in when he saw air bubbles. Sukuna resurfaced with a small unconscious yuuji in his arm. "uraume! Resuscitate him!" He commanded and sat yuuji on the pavement beside uraume. After a few seconds of cpr, yuuji coughed and came to. "How long was I under for?" He asked excitedly. "'bout 30 seconds," sukuna stated. yuuji whined "aw man!"'Aw man' is right! when I was your age, I could stay under for a full minute." yuuji stared sukuna, then uraume. "Is that true?" He asked." it was more like 35 seconds, " uraume confessed, and sukuna shot a glare at them "listen brat I didn't offer to take you swimming so you could sit on the pavement the whole time." Sukuna complained,"So are you going back in, or do you wanna go home?" Yuuji stared at sukuna for a while and then at the pool." Do you think I can break my record this time?"

[moon-catto]

Stay Alive

Part I | Part II |

Summary: He would burn down the world if it means to keep you alive.

Warning: a lotta angst with comfort at the end.

A/N: i was so immersed in this while listening to I Fly by Jihyo. Not proof read:3

It was summer.

Gojo clearly remembered that day as it leaves an unforgettable memory which he held close to his heart.

It was summer.

But the air is rather humid and the sky is dark with grey clouds covering the entire horizon.

It doesn't feel like summer.

Second year Gojo gazes blankly at the clouds, watching little droplets of water staining the earth he's standing on. He doesn't activate his infinity, no. He lets the rain soaked his blood stained uniform and watches the water carried away the blood and dispersed into the ground below.

If only the water also carried away his regrets...

It has been a month after the Higher-ups set Getou Suguru as a fugitive, a killer, a curse user yet he can't settle down the pain agonizing his fragile heart. Like there's an imaginary wound that would ripped wider each time he breathes.

Is this what regret feels like?

He wonders as he gazes up to the sky, thinking what he should do with this foreign feeling he had. The answer is as clear as a day, the higher-ups has given him the knife to do the deeds, now it's up to him to use the knife to stab through his former best friend's heart or not. The answer is so obvious, for the sake of human kind, for the innocent and the weak... And for himself.

If i killed you, would it make the wound disappear?

It was supposed to be summer.

However it feels like winter. The air is twice as cold, his body shivers under the icy cold raindrops. He can't feel his fingertips anymore nor his feet that slowly dragged him on the muddy path below. It's unstable and so slippery, he almost slipped but managed to keep his balance before he fell.

You should be nice when you're asking for help, Satoru.

He walked and walked, slipped here and there. Fell and got up by himself. He fell once again, grunted and extend his hand to the air.

"Fine. Help me. Please." He said with brows furrowed and lips pouted.

But no one is there to give him a hand.

"The fuck?" He looked at his extended arm in confusion. Why did he—?

He retracted his hand hesitantly, still confused with what had happened. That's when he realized how the black uniform he wore is already beyond dirty to the point it might be better to throw this one out rather than to wash it. Shoko would laugh if she saw him coming home like this. And Suguru would—

He sighed. Today feels a bit heavy for him.

He took another step and then he lost his footing again. He fell with a loud splash.

"..."

He's strangely quiet after he fell. He's not grumbling or angry like he would usually do. No, he's just... Feel empty.

He sits there still and silent. Trying to make out what is currently happening with him.

This is strange, this is not him.

He should get back up and continue walking. But he can't. His knees refuse to move. He hates it, he hates this.

Why is he acting like he's a weakling? Gojo Satoru can't walk on his own? What a joke.

He grunted as he pushed himself, forcing his hands to drag his numb body out of the shallow puddle annoyedly. He's annoyed, angry, and full of resentment. So why is he crying? No matter how many times and how rough he wiped his eyes, the tears still flow out of his eyes like a damn waterfall.

"Fuck." He cursed, sobbing, and weeping. His rough cry echoes through out the forest despite the heavy rain. The tall trees gazes down on him, almost like they took a pity on him.

This is humiliating.

As he's struggling to move his body away, His hand grabbed onto the rock in front of him so hard until the rock started to crack open. He's still so strong but why?

And it hits him hard.

Now that you're gone, you're gone with half of my soul.

If only i reached you before you fell into the abyss, would you still be here with me? Would you help me out of this puddle, Suguru?

His thoughts became louder he had to cover his ears to stop his mind to torment his heart even further.

"Why did you leave me here alone?" He unconsciously voiced his thoughts. "I trusted you with my entire soul, but you—"

How can i kill you, with all of these emotions already killing me inside.

If he kill him, it's the same like he commits suicide.

He stumbles, his entire body fell onto the puddle and staining his silvery locks with dirt—but he doesn't care. If he stayed here forever, will he ever forget about what happened?

Just leave all the responsibility, duty, and fate behind and let me disappear.

No one would help him so why bother continue fighting alone? His soulmate already proved that anyway.

He closed his eyes.

Get up, Satoru.

Shut up.

You can't be like this forever.

Can't you see he's already tired?

"Satoru."

He lets out a gasp when someone shook his shoulder gently. He opened his eyes and a silhouette of a young man with a weird bangs appears.

"Suguru?"

He blinked to reassure himself.

"No." The silhouette disappear and he's met with a sharp golden eyes that looked at him with a mixed emotions— although her expression remained indifferent.

"... Y/N?"

The said person doesn't reply but nodded her head just slightly as a response.

Gojo frowned. His cold cheek began to feel warm as he feels so embarrassed at the state he is in right now, laying on the mud puddle like a pathetic five year old. She must be thinking I'm a total fool. He thought to himself.

He looked at you, squatting beside him with an umbrella large enough to shield both of you from the merciless rain. The expression on your face is soft and cold like always, but there's a hint of gentleness that he can't put his finger on.

He tried to get up and failed so miserably. The blush on his cheeks are getting worse when you offered him a hand.

"I can do it myse—" you stopped him from getting up and examine the little wound on his thigh. He also noticed the wound after you pointed it out.

"You've been poisoned." You concluded after seeing the light blue bruise around the wound. "Must be from the curse you fought earlier."

He raised his eyebrows at your statement. Nobody knows about his mission today as it was so sudden. You also knew the curse he fought has an ability to produce poison. He wanted to ask, but you beat him by offering him your back.

"What?"

"I'll carry you back." You said after you glanced at him.

"...I'm dirty."

"Do i look like i care?" You annoyedly gesture him to get up on your back. "Hurry up, sensei's going to be mad if you're late again."

He wanted to ask.

But his arms already reaching to you, hugging your neck while you secured him by holding his knees.

"Are you sure about this? I'm heav—wah!" You gave him no room for complain as you carried the 190 cm boy easily.

"Doubt me one more time and I'll throw you off the next cliff." You threaten. Instead of being threatened, he felt the warmth surging inside the cracks of his heart.

"How do you know I'm here?"

"Uh?" You fixed his position on your back before answering. "Asked the staff about it."

"Why?"

"Why?" You asked back with a scoff. "You haven't back after two hours since the veil has been lifted off."

"So... You're worried about me?" He asked, nuzzling his head closer to you to see your expression better.

"Wow, your narcissistic ass is getting worse everyday." You mumbled annoyedly, your grip on his knees tighten slightly—and he smiled unknowingly. You're a bad liar.

"So what were you doing, sleeping on the puddle like that?"

"I wasn't sleeping!" He paused to find another word to rectify his statement. "Just...a bit tired."

You're silent after that. "I know it's normal for boys to do it but should stop watching those adult movies late at night —"

"I didn't watch that kind of stuff!" He argued. "Well, maybe, but that's not the point!"

"Or just try to turn the volume down if you do." You chuckled when you felt he hide his face behind your neck.

"You're annoying." He mumbled.

"Thanks." You shrugged. "Anyway, You should rest after this. I got you a week off from the mission."

"Eh?"

"But please, don't spend this week watching that disgusting movie—"

"Can't you just stop talking about that?!"

You laughed at his outburst. "You're finally being loud."

He frowned. "Is that even a compliment?"

"Considering it's you, maybe." You jumped from the ground to the tree nearby, and continue jumping from one tree to another. "It's weird seeing you being quiet lately." You said. "Thought you might be possessed by a virgin ghost or something."

So you've been looking out for him.

"If you're having problems..." You continued. "You can tell us, you know. It doesn't have to be me, you can tell Shoko, Nanami, or even sensei. You don't need to keep it by yourself."

"I... Maybe. I don't know."

"If it's Suguru—" you felt him flinched behind you, so you slowed down a bit. "It's not your fault. I'm also to blame because I'm not aware that he needs someone to talk to." You sighed as you speak again. "He shouldered everything alone and he finally snaps into a completely different person, just with the slightest pressure."

"World is a cruel place, huh." You whispered. "He used to be so kind. I never thought he would do... Something like that."

"Is that why you're looking for me?" His grip on your neck tightens. "Are you afraid that I will become someone like him?"

"It's almost impossible for you to be like that." You admitted. "But fear makes us do something irrational, right?" You looked at him and met with the purest hue of blue you've ever seen. You shot him a slight awkward smile before facing sideways.

I'm afraid you'll disappear too.

It came out as a quiet whisper, the rain and the harsh wind made it impossible to hear that. Yet he luckily caught it.

He gave his soul for him. But he broke it and tear his heart apart.

"If you ever think of doing something like that, I will definitely beat that shit out of your head." You jokingly said. But he find truth behind those words. He gazed at your figure with wide and sparkly eyes. You look twice... No, three thousand times cooler since he last saw you.

Unknowingly to him, you've been collecting his pieces and put him back together.

If it's you, maybe... He can give his heart—or the remnants of it and he's sure you will keep it intact with all of your might.

You, who's so lovely and kind, that he fell in love thrice deeper after that day. He could freefall from five thousand feet altitude and he's certain that you will caught him safely.

You who made summer felt like an actual summer again.

"You've been staring at me." You questioned him when you're both eat at his house.

"Because you look pretty." He said with a teasing smile.

"Are you have a thing for a murderer or something?"

"If it's you, maybe." He chuckled.

"Jesus." You fake gagged. "I think i might throw up after this."

Suguru was his moon that keeps him humbled, but you are his sole sun that he gladly revolves around, who shows him his path again, one that he will protect with his life.

Masterlist

[lostcausezz]

Love Game

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐁𝐝𝐬𝐦, 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐢𝐞.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6𝐤

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐛𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲. 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞.

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ♡

"Y/n get out of your room you can't stay here forever!" You closed your laptop and went to  the entrance of your dorm and to see who was bothering your peace.

You stuck your hand out and pulled your friend close to you by the collar of their shirt and brought them close to you. "If you don't have two fine men in between me I don't want to know what you have to say."

You stuck your hand out and pulled your friend close to you by the collar of their shirt and brought them close to you. "If you don't have two fine men in between me I don't want to know what you have to say."

Your friend took your hand off their collar and smirked while crossing their arms. "But y/n what if I did and could make that fantasy become a reality."

You calmed down and tilted your head as a soft smile appeared, "I'm listening."

They smirked and put their phone in the air as you read a flyer for a club. Plastered on the flyer in bold had the words "WIN THE GAME AND ANY FANTASY YOU DESIRE WILL COME TRUE."

You sent the flyer to yourself and closed the door of your dorm room on your friend. You sat on the corner of your bed as your hand was resting on your chin and thought "Hmm... any fantasy I desire huh, I think I'll give it a try."

You got up from your bed and went into your closet searching for clothes to wear and your search stopped as your eyes were caught on a red sequin fitted dress. You laid the garment out on your bed and looked for some heals to wear that goes with your outfit.

You picked out a gladiator heal that had string wrap around your calves. You went to your phone and looked at the flyer contemplating if you should attend or not, you texted your friend. "What time are you coming to get me?"

They sent a thinking emoji and responded with "Does eleven sound good for you?" You replied a simple yes and since it was five in the afternoon you decided to set an alarm at eight PM to wake you up.

You rested your head on your soft pillow on your bed and scrunched up your legs and dozed off. As you were sleeping all you could do was imagine every fantasy you desired, the thoughts like being a dominatrix and having men submit to you and the thought of someone pleasing your body but one thought popped in your mind just as you heard the sound of your alarm go off as it screamed.

"WAKE UP BITCH!" You jumped up from the sound of your alarm and went into your restroom. You wiped your eyes and placed some cold water on your face so your eyes could widen.

You walked to the side of your dresser and picked up your case tfilled with makeup and brushes that would help you get ready for the night. You placed your makeup on and fixed your hair.

You put your dress over your head and wiggled into it as it hugged your curves. You wrapped your shoes around your calves and took your hand bag and headed out of the door to meet up with your friend.

As you walked out into the campus parking lot you heard a yell. "HEYY Y/N I'M OVER HERE!" You turned and headed to there car and opened the passenger door and stepped one foot into the car and made yourself comfortable.

Your friend faced you and said " You ready for tonight?" You nodded and you couldn't stop thinking any fantasy I want will come to life.

Your friend dropped you off at the entrance and you walked through the big silver doors and sighted out your surroundings. Your eye was caught on a sign that said " A bet on a fantasy."

You walked past the sign and saw a sign up sheet and wrote your name down in the number three slot. You walked over to a couch as the other contestants waited.

The flyer never said it would be one winner or multiple but your eyes were set on the prize. You heard someone call your name "Y/n!"

You got up and followed the person into a room that was all black with a table of tarot cards on it. In the room was two other guys one that had white hair with an undercut with ocean blue eyes.

Another that had black eyes with long black hair with ear gauges. You sat yourself at the table and you shook hands with the men.

The one with the white hair had introduced himself as Gojo. The long black haired one mentioned that his name was Getou.

The dealer dealt out cards and the one with a card with a better future that was flipped over choose who the winner was. It was a game of fortune.

The three of you had one card and on the count of three the winner would be revealed.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE NOW FLIP!"

You flipped your card over and it was a ten of swords upward and that meant good luck. Gojo flipped his and he got an upward death and Geto flipped his and for a devil upwards.

The dealer looked at you and directed you to the back since you have a winning card. He asked you "So what's the fantasy you would want to come true?"

You confidently responded "A threesome with the two I played if they're down?" He nodded and walked out into the room and asked for their consent.

The dealer came back and nodded and asked you to follow him. You followed him as the two tall men were behind you into the direction of a bedroom.

You walked into the room and the men stood while smirking at each other then looked at you. Geto said to you "Y/n are you ready? Because we won't go soft on you."

"I'm ready for you to do your worst." You smirked at them. Getou walked towards you and lifted your chin as he smashed his lips against yours and Gojo went on his knees and began trailing kisses up your thigh.

You moaned in between kisses as his tongue slipped into your mouth and your tongues swirled with each other. You felt your legs become weak as you felt Gojo move your underwear to the side and laid his tongue in between the lips of your pussy.

"Fuc~" You moaned out as you were collapsing against the ground. "Y/n let me lay you on the bed." Gojo said as he. Picked you up and made you lay on your back.

He slid your underwear off and tugged you by your legs closer to his face as he became licking up all your juices. As you were laying about climax you felt Getous lips press against your nipple and he became biting it and sucking it as if you were breastfeeding him.

Gojo began to put his fingers in moving them in and out as he sucked on your clit you climaxed and came all over Gojo's face and he pulled you in by your neck as if his hand was your personal necklace and tongue kissed you making you taste yourself.

Getou pushed him back and placed you on his lap as he was craving his dick inside you. You positioned yourself on his dick and began to grind against his thigh, Gojo felt left out and began to kiss your neck.

Getou looked you in your eyes and said "Bounce for me like the whore you are." You obeyed his command and began to bounce up and down on his dock as your walls griped every inch he had.

"Geto~" As you were about to climax you pulled his hair back and as you covered his thighs in your juices. Gojo and Getou looked at each other and winked. You thought everything would be over after you came twice but you felt yourself being flipped on your stomach with your face down and your ass up.

You didn't mind it but you didn't expect it. Gojo cupped your ass with his hands and as your back wasn't arched all the way he slapped your ass causing you to whimper. "ARCH FOR ME BEFORE I MAKE THIS LITTLE SLAP TURN INTO A HAND PRINT!"

You arched your back and Gojo rubbed his dick on your pussy teasing you before he easily entered your hole making you grip the sheets as you felt every inch in you. You looked up to see Getou in front of you and looked you in your eyes.

"Y/n do you want to be face fucked by me?" You nodded and opened your mouth. He inserted his dick into your  mouth and one hand placed it on your head and slowly stroked himself in and out of you.

Spit came dripping from your mouth and your moans vibrated on Getous dick making him bite his bottom lip and tilt his head back. "You're such a pretty slut with my dick in your mouth."

Just as Getou praised you gojo put his thumb in and his strokes began to speed up and you would hear his heavy breathing from behind. "Shit y/n your pussy feels so good let us paint you with our cum."

You began to bounce back on his dick making him cum faster and started sucking on Getou's tip as you felt his dick move a bit and was about to cum in your mouth. Just as they were about to cum in you they pulled out and flipped you on your stomach and painted your body from your face to your stomach with their cum.

Getou kissed your forehead and said "Good girl, our numbers are in your hand bag call us anytime. We'll be waiting on our round two."

[rieson]

 ↱ COMPETITION !  ↲

pairing; gojo satoru ✗ gn!reader

genre; humor

content warning; strong languange, brief mention of violence.

word count; 1,123

authors note; ah, i hate how you can tell I only made this to get out of my writer's block ^^;; sorry it's a bit shit, trying to gain motivation lately </3 i also hereby apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, made this in minutes. prompt can be found here

─ you've been rivals with gojo for as long as you can remember, you can't help but feel ticked off whenever he disturbs your fights.

"when the hell did you get here!?"

“i got bored of waiting around for you to kill me so I wanted to see what you were doing.”

IT'S BEEN awhile since you’ve been feeling the very same adrenaline rush you always felt when fighting curses back in your highschool days ─ the thought of being reminded of your highschool days sent shivers down your spine; it wasn't like something bad happened to you back then, (besides the whole getou choosing another path, you merely chose to forget about it, although it is inevitable) it was just because a face of a gifted white haired sorcerer keeps appearing in your mind whenever you reminisce about your highschool days, and mind you, you hated every fiber of him; which he finds amusing, which just makes you feel more ticked off then ever whenever he tries to strike up a conversation with you.

“Oiii ! Are you even listening to me?!” The snow haired teenager accused a pointing finger at the stoic-faced [Name] ─ in which they only offered the white haired teenager an incredulous look before shoving his finger away harshly in return; imaginary tick marks appearing on the teenager’s forehead.

“Gojo, please just shut up. I’m trying to think of a plan here.” The [hair colour] haired teenager barked as they pinched the bridge of their nose, already feeling a headache coming.

The mentioned ‘Gojo’ let out an exaggerated gasp, “N─No way ! [Name]─ THE [Name] actually thinking for once!?” he lets both of his hands cups his face, as if to emphasize his shock more.

[Name] clenched their hands to fists, resisting the urge to just punch the white haired sorcerer right here and right now.

“Wow! I never thought i’d─”

“AS IF YOU’RE ANY BETTER WITH JUST HEADING HEAD FIRST TO PROBLEMS WITHOUT THINKING OF A PLAN YOU DICKHEA!─” You jumped at the so called ‘strongest sorcerer’ letting out your cursed technique unconsciously.

“Hey ! Atleast i manage to actually finish them ! Unlike yo- AAAH!!” The tall sorcerer screeched as [Name] managed to get by his limitless barrier.

You smirked at the memories, when you first fought with him and managed to land a critical hit on him one or two times; he really thought he was the best til you came in the picture; it didn't take long before he unofficially declared you as his ‘rival’, leading to a lot of childish and unnecessary competitions just to see who could do it best.

Your relationship with the sorcerer was questionable, one moment you both could be just chilling beside each other and then a second later the both of you could be going for each other’s throats.

(Un)fortunately, when you graduated, you got moved to the Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College to become a Teacher instead, as the higher-ups requested; you didn't want to agree to it but it did give you freedom from Gojo Satoru, so you grudgingly agreed.

You still competed with the now Strongest Sorcerer, just not as often; since you chose to focus on teaching your students on how to be stronger instead.

This leads on to him texting you on random occasions, asking bribing you to meet up with him and have a match or two; of course, you always agreed ─ You do need to stretch your muscles every once in awhile.

Today was one of those days, the days where he randomly messages you at 5 AM asking if you wanted to spar, like mentioned, you agreed and were on your way til a bunch of special grade curses decided to ambush you.

You muttered profanities under your breath as you stealthily dodged an incoming attack and crushed another curse’s head that tried to sneak up on you.

It seems like there was another curse popping out everytime you defeated one, it's a never-ending cycle.

‘Where the hell did they all come from!?’ Your train of thoughts was disrupted as you felt a familiar cursed energy ─ His cursed energy; you can tell it from miles away, somehow, Gojo’s cursed energy always stuck out like a sore thumb whenever he releases it.

And before you knew it, All the curses that had been surrounding you was gone and smoke filled your vision, you coughed, covering your mouth and nose so you dont inhale the smoke.

A familiar 6’3 figure appeared once the smoke started to disappear slowly, him walking towards you in a childish manner ─ skipping in his steps.

“When the hell did you get here?!” You questioned the blindfolded man, who merely gave a shrug in response before answering;

“I got bored of waiting around for you to kill me so i wanted to see what you were doing.” He sent you a smug grin, a grin that only you knew that translated to a ‘HA, Beat you!’

You huffed through your nose, patting your clothes to get rid of dusts, “I didnt need your help, i was doing fine.”

“Oh really? You looked like you were─” His words cut off abruptly as you sent him a glare, making him motion something that looks like he’s zipping his mouth before throwing the imaginary zipper away.

You narrowed your eyes at him, eyeing the keys he held on his left arm suspiciously as he fake coughed, “Hoora Horaa, you look and smell bad, i brought extra clothes for you to change into and then we can go to that one cafe thats been popular now adays! I heard they selled good─” You abruptly cut him off as soon as you saw sparkles and flowers float around him.

“I came here to spar─”

“Chocolate cakes.” He grinned at you cheekily as he held out his palms out for you, waving it in front of your face.

You stare at him, he stares back; his smile not faltering a tiny bit before you decide to give in.

“...I’m sold”

“Nice ! Its a date then, here, go change now!~” He threw a bag with your extra clothes inside, leaving you to clumsily catch it before it falls.

“HUH!? I NEVER AGREED TO THA─”

“Hurry up ! Dont stall me for any longer than you have!~ Or else I'm gonna drive away without youu!~" He sing-songed.

You quirk an eyebrow, "I thought you didn't know how to drive?─"

"Let's not talk about that, now Shoo shoo, go change!"