#gojo couldn't have stopped him

[ihavethegrimoire]

Man, I really don't like how people treat suguru's defection as this easily solved thing.

[sukugo]

im obsessed im never gonna shut up about this oh my god im never fuckign recovering oh shit oh fuck gikjsadkashiouepujksajkHOIHJFA

gojo's legs wrapped around sukuna's waist, the way he pulls sukuna closer, the way he clutches at sukuna's hair and buries his face in his neck. THE FACT THAT GOJO'S ALL SLASHED AND BLOODY. im so NOT normal about this oh my god

[100-gar]

Controversial take but i watched all of jjk, in subbed, so it had my full attention 100% of the time, and i am of the opinion that it just fucking sucks.

So me and my wife were talking about it, and we were trying to figure out why people like it and we've come up short. I do not understand what's so appealing about this show for so many people. Can someone PLEASE tell me.

[sugoroo]

#YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT LOSERBOYS. . .

ʚɞ summary. jjk men as different types of losers with a girlfriend who's way out of their league! but never fear, they have a few tricks up their sleeves yet. . . ft. gojo, geto, toji, choso + sukuna.

warnings. fem!reader, penetration (p in v), fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), doggystyle, semi-public sex in geto's, virginity loss + premature ejac in choso's, drug use in sukuna's, 18+ minors dni.

a/n. 500 followers special post <3 digimon!gojo inspired by this fic by @/blkkizzat. go check it out!

SATORU GOJO — THE DIGIMON NERD!

your boyfriend satoru gojo is absolutely, undeniably, irrevocably obsessed with all things digimon.

his entire room is brimming with posters, heinously overpriced collectable toys, you name it. hell, even his bedcovers are digimon themed (and he won't change them no matter how many times you ask, either.)

to make matters worse, it's all he talks about, too. at any given moment he finds manages to find some way to connect anything in his direct line of sight to digimon; and once he starts ranting about it, it's practically impossible to get him to stop.

so, with all of these incriminating facts piling up about just how much of a loser your boyfriend is, you might be left wondering… why exactly are you still with him?

and well, the answer to that is much simpler than you'd expect — satoru gojo is a god in the sheets. and no, that's not an exaggeration.

when you first started dating, you assumed he would be mediocre at best, and that you'd probably have to teach him a few things here and there. because a man so painfully nerdy couldn't possibly know how to satisfy you from the get-go, right?

wrong.

despite previously confiding in you that he was a virgin before you went any further than making out, satoru appeared to know exactly what he was doing once he got you in his bed after a few weeks of dating.

you hadn't been too into it at first, purely due to the fact you were seemingly about to have sex with him for the first time sprawled atop his digimon bedsheets.

i mean, talk about a turn-off, huh?

but you quickly forgot about such insignificant details like that once the two of you started to venture past kissing, satoru's eager hands roaming all over your body with a level of excitement you'd only ever seen on him before when he was gushing about an upcoming digimon game.

and after he'd stripped you of your clothes? all bets were off.

"s-shit. so pretty, baby," satoru groaned as he buried his face between the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking at every patch of supple skin he could reach in the process. "so soft."

"toruuu," you mewled out, running a hand through his messy white locks and lightly scratching his scalp with your recently manicured nails as a form of silent encouragement. "feels good."

satoru visibly preens under your praising words, his face lighting up like a kid on christmas morning as he pops one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling on the perked bud like a newborn.

this gets you to release a moan, the sound so hot and so real, unlike the overdramatic sounds satoru had heard on the various porn videos he'd watched before to practise for this moment.

and the effect it had on him was clear.

within moments, your boyfriend's pretty face was buried between your legs, his tongue just ruthless as it lapped and slurped at your sopping folds. he didn't have a technique, really. he was just hungry. hungry for you (and your sweet cunt.)

"ah! s-slow down, toru— fuck!" you cried helplessly, your thighs clamping shut around his head as he continued to vigorously devour you. he found your clit so inhumanly fast, and his hot mouth was latched on to the puffy little bud like his life depended on it.

"sorry, sweet girl, can't." satoru whined quietly against your flesh, his voice muffled between each desperate lick of his tongue. "tastes too good."

you can't remember the last time a partner ate you out this good. most of your previous flings didn't even like doing it at all — maybe even considered it a chore. but not satoru gojo.

maybe loserboys just do it best after all.

he had you falling apart in record time, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave as your entire body convulsed against the sheets. you vaguely registered satoru talking you through it somewhere nearby, but your vision was too pleasantly hazy to make him out.

"you're so fuckin' sexy when you cum. god, i need to be inside you." satoru groaned wantonly, hastily shoving his sweatpants down his hips in one swift movement and revealing his considerably tented boxers, already darkened with a patch of pre-cum.

wait, hold on a minute...

"you have digimon boxers too? seriously, sato— oh."

oh, indeed.

satoru grinned smugly, both rows of his pearly whites on full display as he observed the way your words trailed off when he shucked his boxers and allowed his throbbing, obscenely long cock to slap against his stomach.

"ready, baby?" he chuckled pridefully, pumping his leaking dick with his fist a few times just to see the way your widened eyes followed the movement. "for your next orgasm, i wanna make you squirt."

SUGURU GETO — THE SCHOOL LIBRARIAN!

no one knew quite how it had happened — how you, the popular captain of the cheerleading team, ended up dating suguru geto, the quiet school librarian who spent most of his time meticulously organizing bookshelves.

but however it may have come to pass, being with suguru has changed your life for the better (in multiple ways). he's sweet, considerate, and despite how much he enjoys ranting about vintage russian literature, still makes an effort to be interested in your hobbies too.

oh, and also, he's the best lay you've ever had.

you wouldn't know it by looking at him; the reserved boy who always wears knitted sweaters and a pair of dark-framed glasses, but saying suguru geto knows a thing or two about how to pleasure another person would be a severe understatement.

and that's why he currently has you splayed across one of the desks at the very back of the library, legs spread wide and cheerleading skirt bunched up above your waist while he fingers you like a damn expert.

"you like that, baby?" suguru coos as he brushes some sweaty hair behind your ear with his free hand, the other still occupied with being knuckles-deep inside your dripping cunt.

"y-yeahh, sugu." you keen in response, hips weakly bucking up into his hand in search of more friction. you always got like this after a long cheerleading practise, body tightly wound up and in need of release which your boyfriend was more than happy to supply.

suguru smiles at this, his lips pulling up in a way that makes him look like the cat who got the canary as he continues to thrust his fingers up into your gummy walls, effortlessly locating that sweet, spongy spot deep inside of you.

"a-ah! right there. right theree." you cry softly, gripping onto the edges of the wooden desk for dear life as he pleasures you like it's his only purpose in life, your entire body jostling with the sheer force of each of his movements.

he chuckles deeply at your wantonness, the way his thumb gently caresses your flushed cheek creating an ironic contrast to the way his fingers pick up in pace, curling in a way he knows will drive you crazy. "mhm. right here, pretty?"

a strangled squeal escapes your lips as the tips of his digits rub against your sensitive g spot, your hips now moving more desperately against his hand as if you're not even in control of them anymore. "yes, yes, yes!"

it's not long before you're falling apart, spraying the entire desk with your translucent juices while your boyfriend croons sweet praises against the shell of your ear and tenderly strokes through the back of your hair.

"now. . . are you going to be good girl and keep quiet for me?" suguru purrs in that deep, velvety tone of his as he unbuckles his belt while admiring your fucked-out expression. "can't have anyone else hearing your pretty moans while i'm pounding you into the bookshelf, hmm?"

it never fails to surprise you how quickly he can switch up, from kind and encouraging to firm and demanding in a matter of moments. however, it doesn't bother you in the slightest — in fact, you can't help but adore how much it keeps you on your toes.

however, it goes without saying that you don't keep very quiet at all once suguru is mercilessly shoving his thick cock into your quivering pussy from behind, squashing your face against the spines of the books in front of you with each rough thrust.

shaking his head fondly, suguru ends up having to clamp a hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your obscenely loud sounds just in case any other students happen to stumble into the library.

maybe the old saying was right after all; it's always the quietest boys who make you scream the loudest.

TOJI FUSHIGURO — THE JOBLESS BUM!

technically, toji fushiguro can't even be classified as a loserboy anymore. after all, he's a fully grown man now (but still has nothing to show for it.)

he's more than a decade older than you and yet somehow you're the one in the relationship who's employed; if he wasn't dating you, he probably wouldn't even be able to afford food for himself, as pathetic as that sounds.

not to mention, he definitely didn't think things through when choosing to date you of all people. saying you're out of his league would be a severe understatement — you're young, pretty, resourceful, and you love buying things for yourself that he could never even dream of affording.

it seems like every week you have a new designer bag, dress or pair of shoes. and as much as he enjoys seeing you model them for him, it makes him feel like a piece of shit because he can't offer to foot the bill for you like a good boyfriend should.

so, he has to find other ways to keep you satisfied that don't involve necklaces that cost more money than he's ever laid eyes on in his entire life.

which is how we arrive at the one thing toji fushiguro is unarguably good at: fucking.

not making love, but fucking. (not to say that he doesn't love you, because of course he does! he just also loves to fuck you like he hates you.)

so that's how you find yourself face down ass up on his bed once again, your brand new fancy dress carelessly shoved up to give your boyfriend easier access to your pretty pussy.

he always eats you out like it's the last time he'll ever get to, and maybe for him, it feels like it is. because deep down, he's convinced soon enough you'll realize what a damn loser he is and ditch him for someone with more going for them.

"mmf... so good, toji." you sigh hazily, eyes half-lidded as you succumb to the pleasure he's giving you. toji thinks you always moan so sweetly for him; it'll be a shame if anyone else ever gets to hear it — but he'd be naïve to believe that you'll stick with him forever when you could do infinitely better.

once you reach your inevitable release, you slowly blink at him over your shoulder and ask to return the favour like you always do. but he simply waves you off, grumbling his usual excuse that "you do enough work as it is" and distracting you by rubbing his pudgy cockhead along your folds.

you keen, but reach behind you to gently halt his movements, whispering out a quiet but sincere "i love you. you know that, right?" fuck. how do you always manage to read him so well? it's like you knew exactly what was going through his head and what he needed to hear, too.

toji grunts out some non-committal answer, not willing to let on just how much hearing those words from you affects him. he can tell you mean it, which works to ease his doubts somewhat — but they still linger in the back of his mind.

shaking the thoughts off, he starts to ease himself into your sopping entrance inch by inch, focusing on the heavenly feel of your warm, tight little cunt around him rather than these pesky feelings.

"well, maybe y'shouldn't," toji mutters gruffly as he pulls himself all the way out, only to thrust harshly back in and earn a yelp from your lips in response. "you deserve a lot better than me, dollface."

"well— ah! — i don't want anyone other than you, toji," you huff out, digging your fingers into the softness of the pillow to keep yourself grounded as he starts to pound into you. "and i don't care if you don't have a job. i still love you anyway."

he releases a sound somewhere between a moan and a growl at your words, his speed quickly becoming as ruthless as usual. it's not his fault, really; he just can't hold himself back once he gets inside you. "shit— baby, you can't just say stuff like that." he rasps out.

"why not? it's true." you counter breathlessly.

and it is. because no matter how much of a loser your boyfriend may be, you love him to pieces. oh, and not to mention, you doubt you could find anyone else who fucks you even half as good as he does.

this point is only proved when you both reach your climaxes in record time, collapsing together in a sweaty and sated heap atop the sheets. and with toji's goopy cum slowly drooling out of your abused cunt and his burly arms wrapping around your waist, you think there's nowhere else you'd rather be than in the warm embrace of your loser.

CHOSO KAMO — THE SCIENCE TUTOR!

you first met choso kamo when he was hired by your rich parents to become your science tutor. it was the class you struggled with the most, the one that was ruining your set of perfect grades. and they just couldn't have that!

unfortunately, it didn't quite go the way they expected.

because when you opened the door to be greeted by the sight of the pretty boy standing before you — all fiddly hands, messy black pigtails and dark eyes staring down at his chunky boots, you knew you just had to have him.

and have him you did.

the two of you have been dating for a few weeks now, but to your surprise, choso hasn't tried to initiate anything with you past kissing. i mean, you knew he was a little shy, but you figured he'd be eager to get into your pants given the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren't paying attention.

when you finally decide to ask him about it, his cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink, and he blinks owlishly at you for a good few moments before he manages to gather the courage to stammer out a reply. "i-i haven't... i've never—"

"—oh. i get it. are you a virgin, cho?"

choso nods almost shamefully, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his shirt as he avoids making direct eye contact with you. the reason he hasn't tried going all the way with you isn't for the lack of desire to, but rather because he fears he won't be good enough for you.

i mean, you're you. so... pretty, perfect and undoubtedly an expert at this sort of thing. whereas choso's never even touched another person before. what if you're put off by his inexperience? or worse, what if you break up with him because of it?

"hey. calm down, baby," you coo softly, reaching out to take both of his clammy hands in yours and giving them a comforting squeeze. "i don't care if you've never had sex before."

choso's eyes widen comically at this, his head snapping back up to check your expression for any sign of deception. but when he doesn't find any, his shoulders sag slightly in relief and he releases a breath he didn't realize he had been holding since this conversation began. "o-oh, okay. that's good."

you smile warmly, running the tips of your fingers over his sweaty palms and admiring the way goosebumps visibly start rising just below the sleeves of his shirt as a result. "if you don't wanna go that far yet, we don't have—"

"no!" choso practically yelps, the blush spreading down his pale neck as he realizes just how desperate he must sound. god, he's such a loser. he has no idea why you even like him, but he isn't about to start complaining anytime soon. "i-i wanna go that far today. with you."

your oversensitive boyfriend ends up cumming twice from just your hand; once from a single press of your thumb against his leaking tip, the other from just a few pumps of your fist. he apologizes profusely each time even though you repeatedly assure him that it was supposed to happen.

it takes you a while to fully sink down onto his lap, the size of his cock just monstrous compared to the rest of his fairly scrawny body. you guess that old saying about quiet boys having the biggest dicks does has some truth to it after all.

choso lets out a strangled mewl once your hips become flush with his, and it isn't long before he's rutting up into you like an animal in heat, as if he isn't even in control of his own body's movements anymore.

the first time he orgasms, he fills your little pussy to the brim with so much of his milky cum that a lot of it leaks out and coats his girthy base in a lewd, glossy ring. but the second, third and fourth times he orgasms? he's shooting blanks.

he's so overstimulated by now that his cock is aching almost painfully, but he can't stop yet — because he still hasn't managed to make you reach even a single climax of your own because he keeps cumming after just a few thrusts into your snug cunt.

eventually, with you guiding him how to hold your hips and bounce your pliant body on his lap just right, you end up falling apart on top of him. choso finds the mere sight so beautiful that it somehow manages to make his needy cock harden inside of you all over again.

and when he whimpers out "can you do that for me again, pretty girl? please?" you realize that maybe dating a loserboy was the best possible choice you could've made.

RYOMEN SUKUNA — THE DEADBEAT STONER!

ryomen sukuna is the biggest loser you've ever met. (and he's also your boyfriend.)

it happened quite unconventionally — when you met him, he was a drug dealer, and your relationship began with you occasionally buying weed from him. but over time, it turned into 'a plug and his favourite customer who frequently hookup together at his shitty apartment.'

and while he may have a pretty pathetic lifestyle, there's no denying how attractive this man is, with his messy pink hair and strangely alluring dark tattoos. oh, and his dick game? legendary.

you could never quite stop yourself from falling back into his bed over and over again, until the walls of your pussy probably remembered the outline of every curve and vein of his cock from the amount of times it had been in there.

eventually, the two of you decided to make it official. sukuna actually ended up quitting his job as a plug so he could spend more time with you, though that doesn't mean he quit the drugs, of course.

he's smoking a joint right now as he watches you grind against his lap, his crimson gaze half-lidded as the pleasant high washes over him. his burly arms are resting leisurely behind his head, visibly not giving a damn about helping you out.

"ryooo," you huff with a pout pushing at your lower lip, your weak hips unable to build up enough friction to make yourself feel pleasurable on your own. you've lost track of what round this is by now, but your body is definitely too exhausted to properly bounce on his cock right now. "help me. please?"

sukuna huffs deeply as if this is the most inconvenienced he's been all day, but nevertheless wraps a lazy hand around the side of your hip to guide you up and down his length. "tch. damn girl, can't even ride me right. should see if one of my old customers can do better."

"you dick!" you gasp dramatically, clutching a hand over your heart in a display of theatrical betrayal. you move to pull yourself off of his lap, but his strong hand effortlessly keeps you anchored in place.

"calm down, baby," sukuna grumbles with a roll of his eyes, but his upper lip twitches slightly in subtle amusement that you know him too well to miss. "y'know i'm just kidding. none of 'em could take me better than you do."

at this, you smile a little, not resisting when he starts to guide your body into a steady rhythm again. sukuna always tends to accidentally say sweet things to you when he's high and then proceeds to deny them the next morning — tonight is clearly no exception.

"yeah, yeahhh," he groans as you start to move on your own at the pace he set, throwing his head back in bliss from both the drugs and the feel of your heavenly cunt dragging up and down against his cock. "jus' like that, pretty."

it's not long before you're both falling apart for the umpteenth time tonight, and sukuna puts out the shrivelled up blunt on the bedside table before carelessly tossing the rolled paper over his shoulder and flipping your spent body around so you're splayed beneath him.

"weed has a shitty aftertaste," he mutters under his breath, easily spreading your still-trembling legs and making room for himself between them as he looks up at you with a wicked grin. "needa wash my mouth out with somethin' sweet."

ryomen sukuna may be a complete loser, but you'll be damned if dating him doesn't have its perks.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo having a brutal rivalry with your son.

You'd promise your now eighteen year old, "Sen, your father and I didn't part on bad terms. It would be nice if the two of you could get along."

Sentaro would scoff, crossing his arms and leaning in the kitchen doorway. "Strongest sorcerer in the world and couldn't protect his wife?" You touch a hand to the large burn mark on your chest. Sen watches the movement and shakes his head. "Like I could ever get along with a guy like that."

~

Imagine your son is the splitting image of his father, save for how his hair grows in black, then fades to white when it grows past the roots.

"You have my pretty face, but I don't know where you got such a shit attitude." Sen would be face to face with his dad while he was on business at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Satoru would look him up and down. "I know for a fact that your mom never taught you that."

Sen's face would contort into a look of disgust. "Don't act like you know her."

"I know her in ways no one else ever could--"

Uncle Suguru would be forced to intervene before everyone got to find out what happens when two hollow purples collide.

~

Imagine Satoru still loves you - he never stopped, of course - and visits you at the house while your son is on a mission.

"You miss me, don't you, mama?" he'd murmur in your ear while he has you crowded up against the living room wall. "You have a little mini me running around, so I bet you think about me all the time, huh?"

He'd be right of course, but life was so hard for you and your son after the divorce that you're reluctant to start up anything again. You'd always love Satoru, but you hadn't seen enough of him to know if he'd changed since you were last together. That said, it's hard to remain rational when the love of your life presses his lips to yours.

You won't get enough time to consider, however, since your ex will have been ripped away from you and sent flying through the opposite wall. Your son, just as tall as his dad, will be standing protectively in front of you, fists clenched tight.

Sen wouldn't look at you when you gently touch his broad back in an attempt to calm him down.

"Don't get too close, mom," he'd say with gritted teeth. "The old man's about to learn he's not the strongest any more."

~

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❞

❝ SATORU GOJO IS THE HONORED ONE - AND HE'S MORE THAN HONORED TO BREED YOU ! ❞

✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you. aka fucking gojo in his shinjuku showdown outfit

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), mirror sex, clothed sex, creampie, implied multiple rounds, multiple positions, swearing,

✧ w/c: 7,946

✧ now playing: feature one of sab's kinktober

“Perfect,” 

The word slips from your lips without a second thought as you slip the haori over his shoulders, snow locks against the coal colored silk, slick as steel and light as a feather, yet carrying the heft of expense. 

Just as your husband did. 

Little words could describe Satoru Gojo — the most common being the strongest — unmatched strength that matched his flawless appearance and even more unsullied skill set. Curses would sooner exorcise themselves rather than face him, and those who didn’t, well, they did not have long to linger on their mistake. 

But you didn’t think of him as the strongest. No, your husband was so much more than that. A teacher. A mentor. A friend. An idiot (but he would insist that he was your idiot, and he very much was). And he was perfect. 

A remark you knew many would balk at,  and even now — as you dressed your husband, at his insistence, fingers helping him pull the fabric over his body, before smoothing it over his muscle and the word fell from you without a second thought — you caught glimpse of a grimace on Ijichi’s face in the mirror. 

“Ijichi, you should go before I slap the shit out of you for your expression,” Ijichi squeaks in horror before slipping from the room, quiet click of the door welcoming silence, only for a moment, “what was that again, sweetheart?” 

You roll your eyes, “should I really indulge you in making your ego any bigger? You may defeat Sukuna with just the sheer size and weight of it,” you tease, fingers smoothing and adjusting his haori. 

“Think that would be a victory either way, sweetheart,” his fingers find yours, weaving with your own — miraculously soft even with bearing the weight of the world in his hands alone, “but I don’t want to win in such a boring way, especially to Sukuna,” 

“And why’s that?” His lips curl. 

“Because I have to look cool in front of my precious students, don’t I?” you see a hint of sadness linger in his gaze — and you hear the unspoken words, especially Megumi, but the smile slides back on as usual,  “I can’t have myself embarrassing myself can I? You’d never let me live it down,” 

“Oh, no I wouldn’t,” your fingers slide up to cup his cheek, “but you’d expect nothing less from your wife, now would you?” 

And he grins, just as he did the day he had proposed to you, at the classroom at Jujutsu Tech where you first met, deep reds and oranges flooding the wood paneled room, painting it as it only could in the evenings, but even the sun paled in comparison to Satoru on his knee, lips curled in your favorite smile — the very one he gave you every day. 

“My wife,” he hums, and you have to stop yourself from biting your lip and tense your muscles so you didn’t jump him then and there. 

“What about it?” he runs the back of his fingers over your cheek. 

“Just glad I convinced you to let us get married early,” not that it took much convincing at all — only a single look after he was unsealed and several minutes of making out later, and he had gotten Ijichi to get the registration and paperwork for him — the very papers Satoru had prepared before Shibuya, “because now you’re stuck with me, wifey,” 

You chuckle, your fingers finding his as they brushed your cheek, turning your head to kiss his fingers, “I’ve been stuck with you from the moment we met,” 

And you had been — you hadn’t known peace since he had thrown that Jujutsu Tech classroom door open all those years ago, with a welcome party prepared for you and the other first years, microphone in hand as he introduced each of you. And it wasn’t his strength or his skill or even his stupidity that charmed you — but the goddamn smile on his lips. 

Funny, how everyone was so preoccupied with his eyes, when every inch of his was just as captivating— 

“Think you’re going to lose me now, Toru?” You rub your thumb across the length of his cheek, “don’t know if I could ever live without you,” 

“Oh yeah?” he wraps his arms around your waist, his warm form enveloping you, “no regrets?” 

“Only one,” and he tilts his head, blues gleaming with the low light of the room, catching like sunlight against waves, as your fingers traced down to the smooth silk of his clothes, “that we never got married in a formal ceremony,” 

“If I recall, you were in just as much of a rush as me,” his lips graze your jaw, threads of heat slipping up and down every inch of your body, a kiss pressed to the soft skin behind your ear, “you barely wanted to even have the small ceremony we did,” 

“That’s because someone kept touching me while I got ready,” and he did, as you changed into a dress you selected for the small ceremony — or rather you tried, as his warm palms slid up your body, his mouth covering your soft gasps and protests, “or do you forget that you nearly fucked me against the wall right outside the room we were going to marry?” 

“It’s not my fault my wife is so tempting, they say my technique is deadly, but you yourself are far more dangerous,” he hummed, another kiss against your cheek, as his thumb and forefinger cups your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror,  “why the want a formal ceremony anyway? If I remember, you said formal ceremonies were only for the attendees rather than the couple,” 

“Well, maybe I saw something that changed my mind,” or someone in something—

“Oh? And what could change my incredibly stubborn wife’s mind?” 

You hate him — hate the teasing glint in his gaze because he knows exactly why, as he noses the hollow of your neck, lips grazing your flushed skin, “You know why,” and he does, he sees it in the way your gaze lingers across his body, the way you shiver when his palm slips down your hip only to squeeze, and in the soft sound that leaves your lips when his fingers trace down your chin to the valley of your chest. 

“I’d like to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he presses himself flush to your back, heat seeping through the fabric, just as his breath warmed your skin, “don’t tell me you forgot how to use your words,” 

“You’re the worst,” and his chuckle reverberates against you, sending a shiver up your body, his hands sliding down the front of your shirt until he reaches the hem, fingers toying with the fabric. 

“And what does that make you since you married me?” 

“A fool,” your lips curl, his eyes meeting yours, “but a very smart one,” and he clicks his tongue. 

“So smart and yet she can’t answer a simple question,” you sigh, and his fingers, finally, slide underneath against your bare stomach. 

“You just want me to stroke your ego,” and he grins at you in the mirror, robes nearly engulfing your form now. 

“Oh, that’s not all I want you to stroke,” your snort is cut off by a gasp as his palms slide under your bra, “I’ll just keep teasing you until you break,” and his fingers tease your pert nipples, a wave of heat headed straight for your cunt, “and y’know I can, wifey.” 

~~~

“Hngh, Toru, please—” 

Satoru doesn’t know what he loves more — the sound of his name on your lips, desperation on your tongue, the same tongue that he had tasted again and again or the sight of you below him, spread out on his desk, papers and books long crumpled and pushed onto the floor — but he doesn’t need to choose a favorite thing when it comes to you. 

Because every single thing is his favorite. 

“If you want me to stop, you can try, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing the soft flesh, another mark blooming among the rest, a field of reds and purples he could spend hours exploring, “don’t know how far you’d get,” 

His fingers press your thighs further apart, with the barest hint of strength, and you’re still utterly restrained under his touch — a lovely butterfly pinned for his viewing — and what a view it was. 

“Fucker,” you pout at him half-heartedly, your kiss ruined lips and fucked out gaze doing nothing to help your case, “we were supposed to be getting you dressed for—“ 

“Then there’s no problem,” his fingers tug your blouse over your head, your bra askew from his eager fingers, and his hand reaches around to undo the clasp. But he doesn’t pull it away with his fingers, but instead bends down to  away the intruding garment, “because you’re the only one getting undressed, sweets,” 

There was something about the thought — and the sight — of you completely bare for him, at his mercy naked and vulnerable, while he stood clad in the clothes meant for battle. His cock twitched, he supposed this was a battle of kind — as he pushed his sleeves up — a battle of how many times he could cum inside you. 

“Satoru—“ you squeal as he nearly rips away your panties, leaving you bare for him, your thighs closing on reflex, only for him to press them back apart, “fuck—“ 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, bringing your soaked panties to his nose to smell, before pocketing them, a grin on his lips, “a good luck charm,” 

You gape at him, half horrified and half amused at the thought of the Gojo elders somehow finding out that the Gojo clan head’s clothes had been defiled by your underwear — though you were sure they expected nothing less from Satoru Gojo.  

But even so, you can’t bring yourself to complain, “You don’t need luck to win,” and he scoffs lightly, his warm palm sliding up your thigh, lips pressing hot kisses up your shin, right to your knee, “you just need to know I’ll kick your ass if you don’t make it back in one piece to me,” your fingers run through his soft locks, before tracing over his cheek. 

“I know, and the thought of you waiting for me is all I need,” he turns to your hand, lips pressing a kiss against the cool metal of your wedding ring, “and it wasn’t for that,” and he’s shifting, settling fully between your thighs, lips inches from your sopping pussy, “it’s for making sure I can breed you right,” 

His fingers brush against your fluttering walls, index finger tracing the outer walls with the very tip, pulling and tugging until you were spread out completely, messy pussy on display just for him. You couldn’t squirm under his the wet squelch making your cheeks burn, “S-stop teasing, just—“ 

You moan as he sinks a thick finger into you, knuckle deep and fast, “So needy for someone who was whining a second ago about stopping,” it doesn’t take long for a second finger to join, stretching out your perfect pussy, warm walls pulling him deeper each time he pulled out, his wrist and palm drenched in your juices, “but y’know I can’t stop, wifey, it’s our duty, right? Duty to produce an heir, but more importantly,” And a third finger sinks inside, as he peers up at you, lips parted in a sweet moan that makes his cock throb, ready to bust without a single touch, because he doesn’t need touch — not when it’s you under him, “my duty to fuck and yours to be fucked,” 

And your cunt squeezes his fingers at his vulgar words, a coil growing tighter in the pit of your stomach, heat building, as you can’t help moan his name, “and how will we fulfill our duty if I don’t prepare you, huh? Gotta make sure you’re ready, hm?” 

His thumb rubs over your aching clit, the lewd noises of your slick nearly white noise to your ears as pleasure builds, every muscle taut underneath his touch. He’s pumping faster and harder, nails dragging over your walls, until his fingers find that spot you love — the one he knows how to hit again and again, and he does. 

Your head lolls back against the desk, pleasure ripping up your spine, “I’m—“ 

And that’s the only warning you give before you cum, name on your lips as your back arches, as he fingerfucks you through your orgasm, working you down from your high. You're panting, chest heaving as he slowly eases his fingers from you, the emptiness making you whine. 

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his fingers clean of your cum, tongue darting across his lips, a glint in his eyes.

“You’re so sweet I can never get enough of you,” and he lifts a finger to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his digit, obediently closing your mouth around it, until he’s dragging it out, pulling at your bottom lip, “you’re dripping from both lips aren’t you?” 

“That’s your fault,” god, you’re too fucking cute, thighs twitching as he leaned down to your soaked cunt, a pretty flushed pink, “you made a mess,” and his tongue licks a stripe up your leaking walls, sparks blooming from the hot muscle flicking against your hard clit. 

“Then I guess it’s my responsibility to clean you up,” 

Satoru Gojo is always too much — it’s too much the way his tongue drags over the seam of your cunt, it’s too much when his nose bumps against your clit when he buries his face in your pussy, your fingers curling in his white locks, and it’s too much when you feel his grunts and moans resonate against your drenched folds. 

It was too much. 

“How are you so soft?” He mumbles, words whispered against your puffy clit before he kisses it, “you say I don’t play fair but you were unfair from the moment I met you,” he reaches down, palming at his erection, “and I knew you’d be mine,” Your eyes find his lips less than an inch from your pussy, chin and lips shiny with your cum and his spit, “you and this sweet pussy,” 

And he’s slurping every ounce of your essence you give him, greedily lapping at you as if he’d rather drown in your juices than breath real air, “fuck, Toru, slow down—“ toes curling as you 

He clicks his tongue, your head rolling back as your nails dig into his scalp, “You shouldn’t lie, sweets, not when this pretty girl is so honest,” the only sound being the wet squelch of your 

“Satoru Gojo!” A familiar voice rings out followed by several knocks, “how long do you expect to keep us waiting?” 

Fuck. And there was the reason you two were getting sresssd to begin with — a showing before Gakuganji and the Gojo clan before the battle with Sukuna. A showing Satoru agreed to undoubtedly to fuck with them — and you, now, for that matter, as he sucks at your clit again, your hand flying to cover your mouth. 

“Didn’t know you were waiting. Thought keeping you waiting would have sent you the right message,” Satoru replies, words said nearly against your wet cunt, breath warming your folds, a shiver working it’s way up your spine, “do you all need to see me in my clothes for battle that badly? I’ll have to start to suspect other motives — and while I’m flattered, with how flattered I can be from a bunch old geezers, I am a married man—“ 

“You insolent brat—“ his tirade falls on deaf ears as you try to urge Satoru off, but he doesn’t, only pinning your hips in place, hands locked under your knee, as he tugs you closer. 

And he only grins, “Don’t tell me you’ll let this old coot distract us, sweetheart? Gonna make me insecure, does my wife not like this as much as her pussy does?” He groans his fingers, spreading your walls apart, parting them to see your cum and pre leak, only for him to lap it up, “because you’ve gotten wetter, haven’t you?” 

“T-Toru, I swear to god, I’ll—“ you half whisper, half hiss, and he sinks two fingers inside your needy walls, his tongue and fingers doing nothing to keep quiet as the squelch of your folds only grows louder as he drags his fingers inside every inch of you, while his tongue busies itself with your clit. 

“You’ll what, wifey?” he hums, making you whimper, “leave? You know you don’t want that. We could make a show of it, should I open these doors and let everyone see how needy you are for me,” and you can’t help the gasp that parts your lips, walls clenching around his fingers, “maybe then those geezers will see why I chose you,” 

“Satoru! Are you even listening?” 

“You can say whatever you want to me here,” Satoru sinks a third finger inside, teasing your clit with chaste kisses, “I’m not leaving this room for the rest of the night,” 

Gakuganji pounds at the door, but you barely hear it, heart pounding in your ears, as you barely muffle your moans behind your clenched fist, “Disgraceful, do you think this is anyway to behave—“ you’re so close, too close, ready to cum as he pumps his fingers once, twice, three times — hitting your sweet spot again and again—you feel yourself reach that peak—

Only for him to stop. The whine that leaves your lips is a little too loud, just as his smirk is a little too wide. 

Fucking asshole. 

Satoru chuckles, teasing you open with his fingertips, just carding your folds barely open at all, pulling small gasps and moans muffled against clenched fingers, “Aw, c’mon, you don’t think being sealed up in that box taught me anything? You should know it only made me take what I want,” Satoru pulls his fingers from inside you, licking up the side of his digits,  “and what I want is right here,” he leans back down, “so tell me and leave,” 

“Even so, I need to speak to you alone,” 

“It’s only me and my wife. You can tell her anything you tell me, she’s the more responsible one after all,” he punctuates it by his teeth grazing your clit, making your hips jerk underneath him, his hand covering your mouth, your fingers curling over his. He grins down at you as he kisses your thigh, “My wife is indisposed at the moment,” 

You don’t hear what Gakuganji says as his fingers sink back inside all at once, fingers rough as they fucked you open in earnest, but you hear Satoru scoff nonetheless. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you old geezer — she’s just lying down,” and he adds with a whisper, curling his fingers just right, “and getting her brains fingerfucked out,” and your pretty eyes are full of tears, cries muffled against his fingers, spit soaked, as he feels your walls clamp around his fingers, “what do you think? Should I let him in, sweetheart? Let him see how you well you get fucked by me, hear you scream my name when you cum for me?” 

Nerves on fire from his touch, he’s just adding fuel to the fire, and you’re bucking into his fingers, wanting his fingers deeper even a little—

“No, I don’t think so,” his lips curl as he leans down, cerulean glinting in the low light, as your walls give that tell tale flutter, “because this pretty cunt is just for me,” and he sucks hard at your clit, just as he pulls his hand away, “cum.” 

And you do, pleasure ripping through every inch of you as your back arches upwards into his touch, as he holds you against his face, cumming against his fingers and lips. 

It’s heaven, buried in your sweet cunt as you cum, hot release against his tongue that he laps up greedily, the wet squelch of your pussy along with your lips crying out his name again and again. doing nothing to ease the throbbing between his thighs. 

And when he finally does pull away, licking his lips and chin clean of your release, he watches you coming down from your high — eyes fluttering open slowly as your chest heaves, pussy split open just for him, your cum staining parts of his pants shirt and haori. 

Fuck, he’ll have to see everyone off like this — your cum on his clothes — and his dick twitches, as he leans down to press kisses along your body, with you shivering as he does. And he wants nothing more than this moment to last, with you beneath him, the taste of you on his lips, and the sounds of your soft pants filling his ears. 

That is until, you flipped him, back hitting the plush of the mattress, “sweets—“ 

“Did you forget? It’s a wife’s duty to serve her husband,” and your fingers are as deft as they are possessed — grazing over the bulge in his pants, a hiss before pulling the drawstrings apart, “isn’t that right, husband?” 

Fuck, he bites his lip as he watches you tug his trousers down, his erection slaps his stomach, hard and leaking through the fabric of his boxers, a large dark stain of precum from his weeping tip. 

Fuck, your cunt ached at the sight of him — no matter how many times you saw his cock, you couldn’t get over just how long he was — it was a miracle you were able to take him without breaking your cunt, though he’d gotten far too close. 

“And I thought you said we couldn’t undress me,” his cock twitches as your fingers trace over the dripping slit through the drenched material. 

Your eyes don’t meet his, still fixed on his hard on, “if the clothes are on you, does it even count as undressing?” 

And your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers before snapping it against his skin, making him jolt, “should I stop then, oh honored one?” You rub your thumb over his slit harshly, a gasp falling from his lips as his head lolls back, “maybe I should go get Gakuganji, let you have your meeting,” 

“Playing dirty doesn’t suit you, sweetheart—“ and you pull his boxers down, pooling around his knees just as his pants did, cold air hitting his cock making him hiss. 

“Like I said,” your palms slide up his body, from his waist, and under his shirt, to his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs, “should I stop?” 

He looks up at you, lungs filled with heat instead of air, lips hovering an inch from his leaking erection. 

“Fuck no.” 

~~~

You’d be the death of him. 

There was no mistake about it. 

Satoru Gojo only had one weakness—and you were sitting on top of him. Your hair disheveled with your fingers running through them, lips kiss bitten and ruined even as your teeth grazed your bottom lip, and your gaze molten and only for him — just for him. 

And you called him perfect. 

A groan leaves his chest as your tongue flicks against his slit, salty precum swallowed by eager lips. He’s hypnotized by you, fingers reaching for you, as his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, parting your mouth for him, tongue darting out to lick the pad of his finger. Fuck, your mouth is so sweet, but how is it so wicked all the same? 

“Fuck, sweets, how do you look so good on your knees f’me? S’not fair,” and your forefinger traces his pretty veins from base to tip, running over every curve and inch that would be buried in your tight cunt soon enough, his hips jumping against your touch, “g’nna make me cum before you even touch me,” 

“If you’re gonna cum anywhere, it better be on me,” your lips curl at the shiver that runs down his body, your fingers sliding up his thigh as your fingers slide the pre down his length, fingers slowly pumping him. 

“Fuuuuck, just like that, can’t wait to bury myself in your sweet pussy, wifey—“ your lips kiss his slit, sucking as your fingers toyed with his balls, feeling far too tight from your touch, a moan cutting off his words. 

“G’tta find a way to shut you up somehow, Toru,” you spit on his cock, pressing teasing kisses up and down his begging length, “or maybe we can find a gag,” 

You’ll kill him before he even gets a chance to fight Sukuna, and he’d die a happy man. 

His precum drips down your chin, painting your lips, tongue darting out to lick it off your skin, “s’fucking good for me,” the praise sending a wave of heat right to your cunt, hot cum slipping down your thighs — and you finally let his cock slip past your lips. 

A whine leaves his throat, his head lolls back, your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick, soaking his length, hips jerking against your mouth. Half muttered apologies, he couldn’t look away from the sight of you on your knees for him — mouth stuffed full of his cock with glassy eyes from the soreness of your jaw as you bobbed your head up and down his length. Just watching his dick go and in out of your pretty fucking lips, drenched in your spit and his pre, was enough to make him want to cum then and there. 

But he wasn’t the only one. 

Small whimpers and moans reverberate against his cock, tongue flicking against his veins, when his eyes flicker down, nails nearly digging into your scalp as he sees you two fingers deep in your cunt, the wet sounds of your pussy mixing with the squelches of his cock in your mouth. 

“Fuck, such a nasty girl I married, huh?” He runs his fingers through his hair, entranced by the sight of you fucking yourself open with your fingers, your mouth growing sloppily as you do, “does fucking my dick turn you on this much? You’ve soaked the sheets,” he chides, wide smirk undercutting any iota of scolding, while you meet his gaze with a glare, “Aw, what? Can’t take it—“ 

His words are cut off as you take him deep, too bumping against your throat, and his fingers curl in his locks. 

“Shit—“ Your fingers graze his balls again before squeezing, hard, he nearly busts them and there, but he can’t, not yet — his fingers weave into your locks to slowly pull you off, strings of spit and pre connecting your — not when he hasn’t fucked your pretty cunt yet. 

Your eyes are dilated, dark with pleasure as his gaze meets your own, a mix of his pre and your spit slipping from the corner of your mouth, “You haven't cum yet—“ and his fingers wrap around your wrist and pull your fingers from inside yourself. 

You yelp as he flips you over in an instant, hitting the mattress with a bounce, large palms sliding up your thighs, as he presses your knees to your chest. 

“The only place I’m cumming, sweetheart,” as he drags the swollen head of his cock against your needy folds, watching his precum smear against your twitching folds, before lifting your soaked fingers to his lips, “is inside your sweet cunt.” 

“Toru—please—“ and you’re so needy, just for him, your fingers finding the front of his scarf before tugging him close, a gasp chased away by a grin as he sees the pure desperation in your eyes, “I need you,” 

“I’m right here, sweets,” and he’s leaning down to dot sweet kisses down your body — against your neck, the bridge of your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. “You’re going to have to be more specific,” 

“Fucker,” he laughs. 

“Now you’re getting closer,” and he does too, bumping the head of his weeping erection against your puffy clit, as your folds feel as if they’ll part for him in an instant, “this pretty girl is more honest than you are,” he’s parting your folds with his tip only to pull out. 

A whine turns to a scowl, as you tug him even closer by his scarf, “I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll strangle you with this—“ and he sinks into you. 

Fuck, you swear you feel every goddamn inch, vein, and curve as he works himself into your tight cunt, walls fluttering as if beckoning him deeper—and he was only too happy to oblige. 

“Toru, s’too big,” your whining only makes his cock throb inside you as he bottoms out inside, “s’too much,” 

“Too much? No, sweets, this dick was made to fuck you,” he grunts, taking every iota of his self control not to thrust into you and bury his cum deep in your womb — no, he wanted this to last, “and this pussy was made for my cum,” he rolls his hips against you swallowly, his tip brushing against your cervix, as both of your heads roll back. 

“How are you so tight? Pleasure rips up your spine as he begins a steady pace of fucking you, sounds of skin smacking together ringing in your ears, “you’re fucking wet and yet you have me in a vice grip,” his clothes rub against you, your slick soaking through the fabric, “should I go meet with the elders like this? Let them see the Gojo clan’s haori soaked by your juices,” fingers pressing your legs apart wider and higher, divots in your flesh from his touch. 

Your walls squeeze at his words, mouth falling open wordlessly as he grunts, “F-fuck,” you can only manage to say, chest heaving as you grasp at the front of his haori, pulling him needlessly closer, “f-faster—“ and he grins. 

He was more than happy to oblige. 

He rails into you at a pace impossible for anyone but Satoru Gojo. And your gasp fades into a drawn out moan that makes him only want to fuck you harder and faster — he needed to bury himself in your cunt until all you remembered was how to moan his name. 

“You take me so well, so deep,” his hand laces with yours and guides it to the bulge in your stomach, “see how deep you take me? Good girl,” the praise makes you keen, sending another wave of pre to soak his dick, and he chuckles, “gonna fit my baby so well too,” 

Your mouth falls open as his dick ruts against you, bullying your pussy open, “W-what?” 

“Y’think we’re gonna leave this bed before I’ve filled you up?” And he punctuates his words with each roll of his hip, “nah, this cunt is all mine tonight,” his thumb drags down your lips, pressing against your tongue, spit leaking out as you groaned, “and so are you,” 

And you’re sucking at his thumb, teeth grazing it before brushing it away to lean up to meet his lips in a bruising, messy kiss — all spit and teeth and tongue, as your hips meet his thrusts, tip finally finding that sweet spot that has your back arching and your eyes rolling back. 

“Toru, fuck, I’m g’nna—“ and you’re cumming, hard, orgasm hitting every inch of your body at once, nerve endings shot with pleasure as he fucks you through it — fucking relentless (or should you say limitless?). Satoru grunts as your walls clamp down on him, the wet squelch of your pussy only growing louder among your pants and moans. He watches the white ring of cum wrap around the base of his cock as it split you open, and all he wanted to do was cum inside you. 

He needed to. 

But he’s pulling out suddenly, a gasp ripped from your lips at the emptiness, before he’s pulling you into his lap, your back pressed to his chest, an arm around you to keep you from squirming. 

“What are you—“ your sentence cuts off as he teases your far too sensitive entrance with the head of his cock, “T-toru,” 

And his other hand snakes around to cup your chin, forcing you to meet your own gaze in the mirror. 

You’re a mess — sweat slicked and naked, your skin littered with blooming red marks dotting up and down your body, your nipples pebbled and hard under his touch, and your cunt on full display, his fingers slipping down to spread them, as if to show you where he just was. 

And he was — hulking behind you, his whole form enveloping you as his cock pushed against your needy entrance. His haori disheveled and his hair askew from your fingers running through it, skin shiny with sweat, skin beautifully flushed, and his eyes filled with lust and his smile far too pleased with himself as he watched you squirm. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, “Don’t wanna be the only one to watch me cum inside you, you should enjoy the view too,” he’s finally sinking to you again, body falling back against him as he sheathed himself in you fully again, “look at how well you take me,” 

And his fingers are cupping your chin, spit slipping from your mouth, as he forced you to look again, see the bulge in your stomach as he slowly began to fuck you, his grunts and moans hot against your ear, “y’know, I’m beginning to really believe you were made for me, sweets, the only one for me,” and he’s emphasizing it with a thrust, “you’re the only one I can even imagine wanting, even just thinking of you is enough for me,” his words do nothing but make you grow tighter as he fucks upwards into you, as he spots your eyes shut again, “c’mon baby, watch me fuck you,”

So you do, watch as his cock slides in and out of your cunt, the wet noises and squelch almost too much for you to bear, the all too familiar knot in your stomach growing ready to snap. His fingers slide up your body to pinch and tease your sensitive nipples, already flushed from his attention. He’s murmuring sweet words, but you don’t hear any of them — you’re gone, lost in the pleasure, in the sweet stretch of your pussy around his cock, unable to look away as he fucks into you. 

“S’good for me, sweets, I’m close,” and he’s pulling you down flush against him, cock buried to the base as his tip brushes against your g-spot with every thrust, his lips pressing needy kisses to the side of your neck, “fuck, g’nna cum—” 

“Cum inside me, fill me up, Toru,” and he groans your name, turning your head to find your lips in a sloppy kiss, tongue wrapped around yours just as his cock hits the deepest part of your tight cunt and his fingers rub against your clit. 

And you’re squirting, gushing over his lap and cock, pulling your lips from him as you moan his name, as he rails into you through your orgasm, until he notches himself as deep as he can before he’s cumming too, hot release painting your walls as he fills you up. He’s fucking his cum into you. 

You both grow slack as he slows his movements, relaxing against his body, murmuring soft praises as he slowly pulls himself from inside, clicking his tongue, as he watches his cum slip out of you. 

“Sweetheart, how will you fulfill your duty if you let my cum slip out like that?” he kisses your cheek, before he’s gathering the cum on his fingers to stuff it back inside, drawing a gasp from your lips, “maybe I’ll just fill you up again, hm?” 

His softening cock twitches at the thought, as you lean into him, shifting as you feel just how wet you’ve gotten him…and his clothes. 

Fuck. 

“Toru, how are you going to fight in these clothes tomorrow?” you cover your burning cheeks, “it’s drenched,” 

“It’ll dry,” you snap your head to him to glare at him, and he pouts, “what? It’ll be like you’re fighting with me—” 

“I swear if I have to live with the knowledge you fought the king of curses with my cum all over you, I’ll kill you—” 

“And if I’m not alive—”

“I will bring you back to life, just to kill you,” and your palm slides against the slant of his cheek, “and you’re not going to die, I forbid it,” 

He chuckles, his lips leaning down to meet yours in a sweet kiss, “Then I better not now, huh?” 

~~~

“You’ll come home to me, won’t you?” 

It hadn’t been a question, not until now, now when you’re faced with the reality of the day pressed against you as day breaks over December 24th. Daylight seeped into the bedroom, his thumb tracing a lazy circle against the divot of your hip, a soft smile on his lips, with his arms wrapped around you. 

Atlas long having shifted the sky to your husband’s shoulders, from the second he existed in his world — but for a moment, you feel it too. Not like him — never like him, even when you tried to bear it with him. But you never could understand, no matter how you tried to.  

But you tried — his fingers lacing with yours, engulfing yours with his warmth, as he lifted your intertwined fingers to his lips. 

“Where else would I go, sweets?” And you didn’t want to think of the other possibilities, to say the words out loud and manifest them as some cruel jujutsu god’s intention. Because when were these gods ever kind? “I only belong in one place — two if you count the mochi place in Sendai,” 

But he doesn’t earn a smile out of you, frown still firmly fixed to your lips, “ouch, not even a pity half smile?” he tilts his head, “sweetheart—“ 

“You said it yourself that the ten shadows is the ultimate counter to infinity,” you hate the words that leave your lips, filling in your mouth like bile, unable to do anything but spit them out like acid, “that and Sukuna’s technique, I’m worried—“ 

“Worrying won’t change the outcome, baby, and I’m not planning on losing,” 

“If you aren’t, then why did you agree to give Yuta your body?” your words were quiet, his movements still, muscles tense as if he had already given up his autonomy to another, “and you didn’t tell me,”

He’s careful with his words, tiptoeing between buried mines— “I didn’t want you to worry about something that wouldn’t happen—“ but still managing to step on one all the same. 

“Bullshit. You thought it would be better for me to find out if push comes to shove?” you laugh, a bitter noise, but all the anger leaves your body, and only fear is left, “I can’t lose you, Toru,” 

“Baby—“ 

“I can’t. I won’t,” you’re being petulant, you know are, but he’s the one person you’re allowed to be childish about, just as he is with you. 

“You won’t, huh?” He wasn’t used to be treated like this — as fragile, as something that’s fleeting, that could slip from fingers as easily as everyone else did. Even as you touched his, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw with the most delicate of touches, as if he’d shatter under your touch, “I don’t think we get a say in that, sweets, unless you had secret meetings with a god I don’t know about,” 

“Satoru—“ 

“Don’t worry I won’t get too jealous—“ and you cover his mouth, yanking him close by his scarf, your forehead pressed to his shoulder. 

“I love you, you absolute idiot, you know that right?” And you feel his lips curl ever so slightly against your fingers, before he presses a soft kiss to your palm, easing it from his mouth, “I love you, I love you so much,” 

“I love you too,” he presses his forehead to yours, “I’ll come back to you, but even if I don’t…I’ll always be with you, you can’t get rid of me, even in death,” 

“Promise?” And he kisses you, soft and languid, thumb rubbing back and forth against your speak. 

“Promise.” 

And Satoru Gojo was never one to break his promises. 

~~~~

Except now. 

The slice cut through the silence of the battlefield with the wet squelch of flesh and blood, followed by two thumps, one soon after the other. 

No, no. This wasn’t true. It wasn’t. It wasn’t. 

It couldn’t be. 

He promised he would come back. He promised he’d live. He promised. 

He can’t leave like this. No, he can heal himself, he can save himself, couldn’t he? RCT like he did before with Toji. And for your eyes flickered around the room, no one could meet your gaze, none except Shoko, who saw the question in your eyes and only frowned before shaking her head, lit cigarette snapping in half as he held it too tight. 

“No, no—“ you didn’t even realize you said the words out loud before you felt everyone’s eyes on you suddenly, before you felt something, a flicker of his cursed energy and you snapped. 

“Ui ui, take me with you,” Kashimo was already on his way to the battlefield, a lightning flash to death’s door, with no fear. 

Yuta says your name softly, “I don’t know if that’s a good—“ your eyes snap to his hard. 

“You have your plans, Yuta, and I have my own, this isn’t a matter of discussion,” you step over to Ui Ui, seeing Yuta’s hands curl into fists, vision averted, “I’m not ready to give up on him,” 

And in a second, you’re in the middle of the battlefield, dust clearing as the distant noises of fighting rings in your ears, but you barely register it, no, not when wind rolls and you see him. 

“Satoru,” 

You’re at his side in an instant, your fingers running over his cheek, the heat leaving his body, cold creeping in, but as your fingers graze his, a quiet murmur of his name, and you see his eyes flutter. 

And it’s immediate. You look to Ui Ui, as your hands are placed on either side of his split body, palms spread against his body, “Take us to Shoko, he’s alive.” 

~~~~

Satoru Gojo was never one to lose. 

But he supposed if he had to lose to anyone, it might as well be the king of curses. But he knows he didn’t really loose, as he watches the snow fall above him, wondering if the cold against his skin was the snow or if it was something else entirely. 

Was this what it was like for Suguru? Is this what he saw? The winter sky, or was it him knelt beside him as his life left his body. 

Maybe he’ll ask him when he goes back, when he sees everyone again. 

And then he hears it — your voice, the quiet murmur of his name, and the brush of your hand against his.  

No, no, he can’t leave. Not if he can help it. Not when you’re here. 

He feels your cursed energy flood his body, the flow of cursed energy through every inch of him, as it keeps his heart beating and his brain alive — a gasp caught in his throat. 

If you want to start anew, head north. If you want to return to your old self, head south. 

There’s only one option. 

He had to head north — even if it meant — he closed his eyes — losing everything, but himself. 

But he’d have you — and that would be more than enough. 

~~~

“Are you enjoying the view?” 

Your lips curl as you stand in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning back against the doorframe, watching your husband dress himself. 

“Always do,” the floorboards creak lowly as you cross the bedroom to your husband’s side, “why do you think I married you?” 

He chuckles, “and here I thought it was because of my incredible personality,” and you snort, as your arms wrap around his middle, your fingers adjusting the obi belt around his waist, “feels like you laughed at that a little too hard, sweetheart,” 

“I just imagined how your students would react at that,” you laugh softly, as you finish adjusting his belt, only to grab his haori, a deep sky blue, as pretty as he is,  “pretty sure they’d disagree, especially after the stunt you pulled—“

And of course, the stunt you were referring to was him coercing you push a box out to his students, only for him to pop out. 

“How many chances would I have to do that? Plus, it was hilarious — did you see their faces?” And you scoff, shaking your head, “Plus, I figured it would be less shocking this way. Surprising them this way changes the focus from what happened to right now,” 

You helped him pull the haori on, guiding his arms in one sleeve and then another, “I think you just being alive was enough of a shock,�� you kiss his palm, pressing it against your face. 

And his lips curl, “Well I made a promise didn’t I?” His other hand reaches for you, finding your waist and tugging you close, “and I never break a promise, especially when it comes to my beautiful wife,” 

“Can you call me that yet? We still haven’t had the ceremony yet,” he shakes his head. 

“This is only a formality, something to appease the elders and keep the idea of a clan war at bay,” he scoffs, shaking his head, before shrugging, “but it isn’t so bad,” 

“Why’s that?” And he smiles.  

“Because now we can have no regrets,” and your fingers trace upwards over his face, the scars from his battle bumpy as your fingers run over his soft skin, fingers reaching the blindfold over his left eye, before pushing it up — his cerulean blue eye now a milky white, “except maybe being able to marry you with both eyes,” 

“Like you said, we were already married,” your thumb runs over his shut eye gently, “this is just a formality,”

He leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand, before his arms pull you flush against him, “Then can we be late?” And his lips lean down to press a heated kiss to your neck, voice reverberating against your skin, “because I’d like to enjoy my wife before I have to share her with everyone else,” 

“Toru—“ a soft gasp cuts you off, as his hands slide down your sides to cup your ass, fingers squeezing, “we can’t—“ 

“Oh what will they do? Start without us?” And your resistance is waning as his lips start trailing kisses down your neck, tugging at your kimono if only to pull the fabric down your shoulders, “I promise I’ll be fast,” 

“Last time you promised that, we didn’t even make it out the door—“ and his fingers are already undoing your obi, before sliding up and underneath the silk material, thighs parting under his touch, “god—“ 

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ sweetheart,” and his fingers toy with your panties, “look at my wife,” and he’s tilting your gaze to make you look at yourself in the mirror again, “perfect,” 

“Just like my husband,” and his lips curl. 

“Even now?” And your fingers cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze — no longer the look of the strongest or the gaze of the six eyes — just the eyes of your husband, Satoru Gojo. The very gaze he’ll use to look to the future. 

“Especially now.”  

✧ a/n: welcome to the first kinktober fic!! sorry it took a bit T_T. i've been super busy with work and i keep getting sick in weird ways. last week i got hives and this week, my stomach is being a jerk. but i hope you guys enjoyed :) i think the next fic may be 'a cult classic' or 'scream (only for me)' so look forward to that!! thank you to @coffee-and-geto and @gaylatteart for betaing!

✧ taglist: @risuola , @riamallow , @montilyetron , @saccharinesatoru , @notgoodforlife , @aerithsthingss , @satorusmochis , @silvarys , @oracle014 , @jimabenamara , @seijakuu00 , @erwinawesomeness , @staryukis , @idiotgojo , @torubug , @theshylittleelfgirl , @mitsuristoleme , @forest-hashira , @aishies-stuff , @midnaamethyste , @fiannee , @paperstarsthings , @satosuguwifee , @kachntos @meow-satoru , @rowaelinsdaughter , @emonaculate , @hojoslutoru , @strawberry1042 , @fairiesthrum , @shoyosdoll , @gladiatorgladiator , @tojis-ball-sack , @astraecea-silversin , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @wakashudou , @cstandsforchaos , @yuminako , @zetianzz , @dazailover1900 , @sunamatic , @euphorism , @satowooo , @hawkwithsocks

[lxnarphase]

want me to give you another one? ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

☾₊‧⁺...ft : gojo satoru + geto suguru + fushiguro toji + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : breeding kink, praise kink, spit kink, reader gets called 'mommy', dirty talk, teasing, overstimulation, satoru goes insane from pussy, suguru wants a girl this time, toji being in love with his wife, sukuna doesn't like when people insult his soon-to-be-wife, sukuna is dating single mom!reader

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i really wanted to do the 'our baby is so cute, i want another one' 'yeah? you want me to give you another baby?' trope so here we are ❤︎ i couldn't think if i wanted to do others but if you'd like more please let me know ! ❤︎ also, the toji one ? is actually a sneak peek of a longer fic i'm working on ehehe

✧ g. satoru : it starts off with you nuzzling in satoru's arms as he watches tv. satoru notices that you began to get clingier after you put your baby girl to bed. every night, you would press against him as if you wanted to merge with him and he couldn't help but tease you about it. so when he feels you nipping his neck and your hand running under his shirt? when he hears you oh-so sweetly whisper, "don't you want to give me another baby, satoru?" into his ear? he's eagerly nodding, ready to do whatever the mother of his first baby wants. but instead of letting him on top...you climb over him and that look in your eye tells him everything he needs to know : he's fucked.

"baby, baby, baby, please," satoru whines, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. he feels like he has no control of his hips, he's so sensitive, but he can't stop fucking up into you. not when you're like this, practically buzzing with need and crazed energy. "c'mon, s'toruuuu," you purr, hands splayed out on his chest. "cum f' me again? please, honey, you only came once, 's not enough." the room is hot, both of you covered in a sheen of sweat. how long have you both been going? he didn't remember, he lost count of how many times his hips desperately pressed up, shooting his hot load into your wet, needy pussy. but you just wouldn't stop. not that he minded, but fuck, you were making him so brainless. he can feel his thick cum gushing out of you each time you lift your hips, dripping down his cock and balls, onto the mattress. "h-hah, it's so fucking messy," he groans, unable to stop himself from cumming again. "f-fuck me, baby, t-there's so much cum, y'r pussy is so fuckin' sloppy." you just won't stop milking him, your soft and wet walls massaging him as you moan just from the feeling of being filled up again. god, you were making him insane, what got into you— his eyes snapped up to you when he felt the wet drop of one of your tears on his chest. those pretty lashes of yours were getting wet with tears as he felt your thighs starting to shake, a weak moan leaving you. "c-can't," comes a pathetic sob, your hips desperately grinding down on his cock, moaning when you feel it throb. "c-can't stop, 'toru, 's not enough, i need it, n-need it so bad!" when you finally look at him and make eye contact, he feels like he's been shocked because you look a mess... "give me another baby, 'toru, i want another one, gimme another one, please—!" with no hesitation, his feet are planted into the mattress and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he pounds into your dripping cunt, feeling himself cum just from the wail you let out into his ear. but he doesn't stop, he can't stop, not when his wife, his honey, his baby needs him to knock her up again so badly. "'m gonna give you whatever you want," he pants, his skin feeling like he was touching a live wire. "give it t'you 'til 'm empty, baby, gonna fuck you good, make sure it sticks, just like you, f-fuck, like y'want, yeah?" he feels you nod frantically against him, unable to speak from the way his cock drilled up into your pussy, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. "y-yeah, you want that, you fuckin' want that, s-s'just take it, baby, let me give you another fuckin' baby."

✧ g. suguru : your son had just turned one so you and suguru let his nieces, nanako and mimiko, come over to have a little celebration. seeing the way you cared for the twins and your baby boy the entire day made him think. his son was still a baby and had a lot of growing, but he knew the kid would look just like him with a few of your features. he's always wanted a girl, and helping his sister take care of the twins as they grew up only made the desire stronger. the two of you mentioned having another baby at some point, but the rest of the week, all he could think about was trying to get you pregnant again, maybe give you a girl this time...who knows, maybe he could fuck you so good you'd have twins.

"aww...i know, i know," suguru coos, his hand pressing into your tummy. that condescending smile on his face just makes you melt under him. he's slow and methodical with how he fucks you, like he wants you to remember every vein of his cock, how it curves up just perfectly that it nudges that spot where his hand is pressing down and makes you keen. his smile morphs into a knowing smirk, his free hand rubbing your thigh. "you're such a pretty mommy, princess. do you know that?" suguru's so sweet, he's so soft, he's treating you like your the most fragile thing on the planet. he sooo slowly grinds himself into you, his hand giving another little push down on your tummy. he's so sweet to you, such a loving husband... but you know. you can see it in his eyes, the hunger and deviance swirling around in those purple irises. he's getting you soft and pliant, melting into the bed as he praises you where he knows your weak. "taking such good care of my baby, aren't you? ," he praises. his hand is so warm as he starts to rub up and down your stomach. "such a shame the geto genes are so strong in the men. however." your breath hitches when he pulls all the way out before shoving his cock all the way in down to the base. you can't help the soft moan of his name, watching him lean down closer so that he's right over you. "the girls in my family always look like their mommy. what do you think, pretty girl? d'you wanna try? want to see if i can give you a girl?" as soon as you nod, suguru fully leans over you, using his arms to hold himself over you and he really starts to fuck you. he's merciless, managing to keep that stupid fucking smile on his face as his balls slap against your ass. "she'll be so pretty, just like her mommy, so so so fucking pretty," he coos as if he isn't making tears drip down your face. he loves seeing his baby like this, so sweet and pretty for him. "okay, angel. 'm gonna give you another one, gonna flood this cunt alllll dayyy longgg."

✧ f. toji : toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you. yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things. but god, did he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid he gave you. so when megumi tells you both what he wants for his birthday...“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly. “but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.” little brat. toji doesn't hesitate to let megumi have a sleepover with yuuji the next day, dragging you into the bedroom as soon as he gets back home.

“you want to give the kid a sibling, hm," he hums against your mouth, teeth tugging on your lower lip. you feel how hot the tip of his cock is as he rubs circles into your clit with it, smearing his precum all over you. "wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?"  you just hummed, a little breathless. your hand came up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. “mm, honey, you've gotta stop asking questions you know the answer to,” you cooed, guiding him down closer so you could press a kiss against the scar on his lip. “don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.” after those words left your pretty little mouth, toji let out a laugh of disbelief, his mind instantly realizing that you, being a little minx, were 100% going to give him the worst breeding kink ever. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum, and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick.  toji easily flips you over onto all fours and lines himself up with your slit. when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet. god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it messed with his head. you were almost too good to be true. each thrust he gave had you seeing stars, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you. it was almost too much, but you didn’t want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth. “shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ. c'mon, throw that ass back on me, mama, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushed him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full. he coos when he sees you beginning to jolt up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. that's he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes. "tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”

✧ r. sukuna : it honestly is his fault this happened, he's being snappy with one of the parents at the birthday party of your son's friend. sukuna knew better, he should've just ignored the bitch, but the comments she's making gets under his skin. "she hasn't given you kids of your own yet? that's too bad, i would've let you do that as soon as you proposed," she tries to flirt, batting her lashes at him. it just makes him sick. did this fucker not see the way sukuna looks at you? "oh, you probably don't know if she's the one you want to mother your kids, right," the woman next to him says, putting her fucking hand on his arm and he shoots her the meanest glare. "not everyone is mother material, but i-" "hey, we're leaving," he interrupts when you walk up to him, slapping the woman's hand off him as he gently wraps his arm around your waist. "i texted yuuji, that's why he's watching our kid for the rest of the day. c'mon."

sukuna is devouring you, his mouth unforgiving as he runs his tongue up and down your pussy. he's pissed, the way his tongue laps angrily at your folds as if your pussy is the reason he's upset. "fuckin' bitch," he snarls, spitting onto your clit before sucking on it. "thinks she can talk to my wife like that." you shakily gasp when he finally, finally looks at you, the sharp anger in his eyes making you shiver. you can tell he's not upset at you, but seeing him so riled up and knowing that he's using you to get it out of his system does something to you. "you know your mine right? that you're stuck with me 'til the day we die," he asks you, his thumb replacing his mouth as he rubs firm circles into your clit. "i'm your husband. you're my wife. you are fucking mine." he's about to say something else, but he stops, letting out a heavy sigh, subtly shaking his head. you catch it though, you always do. "suku, what's wrong," you shakily ask. "y-you can...can tell me, baby, what's wrong? did something ha-" "let me get you pregnant," he says, his voice low but desperate. he's moved from between your legs to over you, and you can see he's so hard, the tip of his cock an angry reddish-purple. "don't you want to give our son a sibling?" your eyes widen, not expecting him to ask that. having a kid with him...honestly didn't sound that bad. and the way he called your son 'our'...it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but give him a sweet smile and nod. "okay, 'kuna, we can start trying if you are sure. i'm still on birth control, but—sukunaaa!" he doesn't give it another thought, sliding all the way into you until his hips are flush against yours. he feels the way your arms wrap around him and scratch at his back, and as good as it feels, sukuna needs you to give him complete control. pulling your arms off him, he laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the mattress before rutting into you, the slap of hips against yours almost angry. "don' care about the birth control," you hear him growl, his eyes burning into yours. "'m gonna fuck you so fuckin' full of my cum that it bypasses it. it's got no fuckin' chance with how many times i'm gonna breed this cunt." the way he's talking to you, it makes your head spin and you know he feels how you clench down on him with the way he groans. "gonna fuckin' show everyone how good of a mom you are, gonna get you all swollen 'n' round with my kids," sukuna groans, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each snap of his hips. you can't help but look at him with those big eyes, disbelief and infatuation swirling in them. he likes this look on you, you just look so fucking in love with him, and it's all for him, just for him, no one else, just fucking him. "yeah? y'like that? that i'm gonna have a lil' family with my wife? give you as many kids as you want, 'n' all y'gotta do is take my fat cock as i breed you 'til it takes."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[churipu]

YOU SLEEPING ON A COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, toji fushiguro x reader

note. i hv so many ideas right now apart from what i'm actually supposed to be focusing on, so...pls excuse me.

GOJO SATORU. arguments with gojo are a pain in the ass, he's petty and everything will be a mess. he's so stubborn that it actually baffles you sometimes — and he calls you rock head?

being a sorcerer is never an easy job. gojo wakes up every day, not knowing whether he'd die in a mission or get to live another day. so when you brought up your concerns about it to him, the male didn't take it lightly. things have been tight for him, and you're walking on eggshells for the past few days.

the slightest thing angered him, like how his sleeve got stuck on the door handle, or the way he curses out loudly when he stubs his toe on the coffee table. it puts him in a shitty mood, so when that happens, and you try to talk to him about his job.

gojo gets very pissy about it.

frankly, you understood where his anger comes from. and it was part of your fault to bother him the moment he came back from work exhausted, it was bound to happen so you weren't really blaming him at all from the projecting of his anger to you the night before — he didn't say hurtful things, gojo knew better than that. all he did was tell you to leave him alone and get out of his sight for the night.

and you did. sleeping alone on the couch, all sprawled out, an arm dangling on the edge; while a string of drool dribbled down the corner of your lips.

you seemed to not mind having to sleep on the couch (under your own want). but your boyfriend did, the moment he knew your bed time strikes — he came out of the room and eyed your sleeping form. guilt washing over him when all you did was care about his being and how dangerous the jujutsu world is.

gojo approaches you and gently carried you in his arms, an arm right under your bottom and his other arm around your waist. hoisting you up like a baby as your cheek leaned onto his shoulder, letting the drool blotch his shirt. he doesn't care at all.

the male tucks you in the bed, pulling the covers over you before slipping next to you, chest pressed to your back and an arm resting on your hip. gojo will never let you sleep a whole night on the couch, he will bring you to sleep with him and apologize the very next day for being such an ass.

he also, tried to make it up to you by cooking a classic english breakfast. which ended up in chaos — and you both decided to order take out instead.

GETO SUGURU. geto is usually calm and collected; he doesn't really get angry at anything. even if he does, he mostly keeps it to himself unless it really bothers him. but since humans have certain capacities to their own emotion — geto is not spared from being angry, no matter how calm he is.

after the death of amanai, you could feel him change. your geto. it was traumatizing for him, and you understood. always being there for him, never leaving him alone. the dark circles under his eyes were apparent, and it looked like he hasn't had a good night sleep for what seemed like . . . weeks, or months, if that's even possible.

geto appreciated your company, really. but sometimes, he also wanted to be left alone to dwell on his feelings. he didn't want to end up saying hurtful things to you because he was so angry at himself. but he did, and god was it horrible.

he was already feeling like shit before the argument— which if you see, wasn't really an argument at all. it was one-sided, geto was telling you off and you didn't say anything back. because you knew he didn't mean it. he almost desperately begged for you to leave him alone because your presence was "annoying" him and he couldn't stand it.

although geto said it in a heap of moment. he didn't mean it, and before he could say anything else, you tell him that you were going to be sleeping on the couch, so if he needed anything he was free to come to you.

geto didn't stop you. he was busy hating on himself for telling you that — and believe me when i say that he, right there, almost cried out of frustration.

he tossed and turned on his bed. where you were usually on too, beside him, holding his hand whilst he sleep. your hushed voice lulling him into a peaceful slumber; but you weren't there today, all because he told you to leave him alone. geto sat up, his eyelids heavy, but no matter how long he shut is, they always open back up.

with slow and heavy steps, he approaches you on the couch. and geto had always knew that you were a light sleeper, so his footsteps awoken you. seeing your eyes flutter open, geto slid on the couch, laying himself on top of you — head on your chest, arms clutching onto your shirt like he's desperate for your presence, and his legs intertwining with yours.

getos' hushed apologies were heard as he leaned into your warmth, and you told him that you were never angry. brushing his hair, massaging his scalp using your fingertips before lulling him to sleep, and geto did. almost immediately. and so did you.

he could never sleep without you. whether it being on the bed, the couch, or anywhere else — as long has you were with him, he will find the ability to drift off.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. is an ass. let's face it — he wouldn't give a fuck if you decided to sleep on the couch after an argument, at least for the first couple of hours. toji is a blunt man, and he's a sole believer that nobody could bear sleeping on the couch when there's a bed in the house.

but you were there to prove him wrong.

after an argument going south, he finds you grabbing your pillow and then seeking shelter on the couch. and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, knowing you'd come crawling back on the mattress after a few hours — because who'd choose the couch over the bed?

you. apparently.

he slept without a single care, thinking of words to say when you finally decided to come back on the bed. but when he woke up at three am, his arm searching to find your body, but realizing all he was catching was air — he finally realized that you weren't coming back onto the bed.

and it annoyed him. he was angry that you weren't there. and at three am? he was already wide awake, walking out of the room angrily. but his gaze softened when he saw you asleep, the constant flashing light from the television panning on your body; toji walks over, snatches the remote and turns the device off.

letting out a soft sigh, toji squats down, flicking your forehead. and the action was enough to make you grimace lightly in your sleep — although not enough to wake you up completely. the male chuckled and prepped an arm under the hollow under your knees, and an arm across your shoulder.

with ease he brought you into your shared room and he laid you down on the bed, covering your body with the blanket before he slips into his own portion of the bed. scooting closer to you as you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, seeking for comfort.

toji wouldn't admit that he was the one who brought you into the bed and would end up saying how you came crawling back at three am. you always find out the truth though, and toji tells you to forget about whatever he did because he won't be doing it again (he will).

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ CAN I PUT YOU ON HOLD? ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. cunniligus, lil' bit of dirty talk and more... i'm too tired to type it all out </3

author's note: idk personally i wouldn't take that.. but i guess i would if it was satoru. anywaysss enjoy

satoru's a busy man — balancing his responsibilities as a teacher and as a sorcerer is no easy task, but he finds a way to make it work.

anyone who's known him for longer than a minute can easily tell that satoru's committed to his line of work. as much as he complains about it, the truth is that it's one of his top priorities. maybe even the first one.

and you get a taste of just how devoted satoru is when he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. 

"hello?" satoru cooes, eyes focused on your indignant expression as he holds a finger to his lips. "yeah, i'm free to talk. what is it?"

"free to talk?" you mouth at him incredulously. satoru replies with a wink and grins, enjoying the show. you're still pinned underneath him, bedsheets haphazardly strewn across your body, and satoru savors the sight of you all needy and pouty.

"yeah, take your time," satoru says amusedly to whoever's on the other side of the phone after a moment. when you reach up and swat satoru's chest indignantly, he uses his free hand to pin your wrists above your head, a clear warning in his eyes.

after a couple of mhm's and of course's, the conversation still isn't over. your patience is waning — who is satoru to just stop in the middle of fucking you to pick up a phone call and say that he's free to talk?

you try to distract yourself by thinking about the mindblowing sex you were having just minutes ago. the longing, glassy stares; the red scratch marks down satoru's back; and of course you couldn't leave out the words.

"fuck, you're taking me so well, sweetheart." "atta girl, you're a natural slut, aren't ya?" "your pussy was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"

how did that turn into "yeah, make sure the higher-ups know about this, otherwise they'll give me hell for it. mhm"?

after another bland minute, satoru rolls off of you and sits up with his back against the headboard, sheets falling to expose everything from his waist up. 

you whine in impatience, glaring at him like a sullen child. satoru basically just edged you — one second you're about to get to best orgasm of your life, the next you're forced to watch your boyfriend chat on the phone nonchalantly as if he wasn't just moaning your name like a slut three minutes earlier.

satoru shoots a glare at you and pats his lap, pressing a finger to his lips as a reminder to stay quiet.

well then, he shouldn't have picked up the phone in the middle of fucking you.

you scoot yourself into his lap, purposefully positioning yourself so that your pussy just barely rubs against the head of satoru's still-dripping cock.

it's so worth it when you hear satoru inhale a sharp breath and start to squirm under you, somehow both trying to push himself inside but also trying to inch himself away. it's like he can't decide, but the way his face flushes red speaks volumes.

his voice is breathier than normal as he squeezes his watery eyes shut. "yeah yeah, that's perfect. you mind if i put y'on hold for a sec? alright, thanks."

you glance over at satoru as he retracts the phone from his ear and puts it on mute. not even a second later, he's back on you, manhandling you into a position where he can comfortably eat your pussy, a cheeky smile on his lips.

"you think you're so fucking funny, don't ya?" satoru cooes, looking up at you as he eats you out sloppily. a mixture of his saliva and your essence drips down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornworthy. the wail that slips out of your lips when satoru bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of tonguefucking you.

"fuck, you're so lucky my phone's on mute right now," satoru groans, still buried in between your thighs. "god, if my old man could hear you now—"

"your dad's on the other end of the phone?!" you gasp, swatting satoru's head and frantically reaching over him to check if the phone was actually on mute — knowing satoru, it could've just slipped his mind. intentionally.

satoru scowls, muttering a reminder for you to stay still while he eats his dessert before rolling his eyes and grumbling "what does it matter?"

"uh, that's embarrassing!" you whine. when satoru nudges his nose against you again, you reluctantly spread your thighs for him so he can continue his meal. satoru mumbles a thanks, but he doesn't respond beyond that.

"satoru!"

"what??"

"don't you have to finish your call?"

satoru sticks out his bottom lip, fixing his cerulean eyes on you and pouting. "you were just complaining about the call and now you want me to go back??"

"it's your dad, satoru," you groan, pushing his shoulders away from your legs and ignoring his protests. "you don't get any more pussy until you finish that damn call."

"i hate you."

"love you lots, baby."

satoru sighs dramatically and unmutes the call, not bothering to respond to his dad's questions with answers longer than a word or two. after another minute of this, his dad finally hangs up and satoru lets out an elated cheer.

he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. 

"now, where were we?"

[writingouthere]

singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.

cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.

"I....want you to be my mommy?"

Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.

"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."

"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"

"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.

"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.

"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."

"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"

"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.

"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.

It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.

Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"

Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.

"She's really nice, I like her."

"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.

You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"

That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.

Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."

"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.

"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.

Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.

"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"

"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.

Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.

"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"

"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."

"I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"

Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.

You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"

"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.

Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.

Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.

Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.

"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.

"Let's go!"

Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.

You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.

As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."

He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.

He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.

"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.

"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"

"Gojo."

Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.

"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.

You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.

Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.

As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.

"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.

"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.

"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.

The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.

"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.

"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.

"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.

"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.

"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.

"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"

Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.

"Hey now, there's children here."

Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.

You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.

Although.

Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-

Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.

As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.

Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.

shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.

also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.

Edit: wrote the prequel, here!

[ridingthatd]

𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱

choso, sukuna, toji, nanami, gojo,etc...

contains: fem!reader, heavy smut, nsfw, squirting, peeing, masturbation, kinky, flithy, dirty talk, passing out, rough sex, teasing, hair pulling, etc...

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨:

choso was always desperate for the wetness of your pussy. he always made it clear how much he loved eating you out. how much he loved. craved. sliding his warm tongue against your clit. shoving it inside your cunt. feeling your tight cunt clench around it.

choso knew you weren't as experienced as he was. he knew you weren't flithy as he was. he knew you weren't corrupted as he was. so he wanted to teach you. make you experience new things. he always end up staining his pants with his warm seeds everytime you sit on his face. so innocently. so hesitant.

but as soon as you place your plumpy ass on his face. you start grinding against his pierced tongue. messly. sloppily. stroking your pussy on his face. coating every inch of it with your sweet honey. but choso wanted more. he wanted to not only feel the tightness of your wet cunt. but he wanted to also feel the tightness of your little ass.

it started innocently at first. he would gently poke your tight hole with his nose as you grind against him. his lips were busy with your puffy pussy. while his nose was slowly stretching your ass. slowly making its way inside of your tightness.

"choso i-" you sob feeling his warm breath on your ass that was soaked with your own juice. you couldn't form a word because choso was already attacking you with his pierced tongue. sliding the cold metal.

"shhh let daddy fuck this tight little hole with his nose" he whispers into your ass cheek. hitting into it. before he dives back in. not giving you time to process what he said. he was going crazy at the idea of taking your virgin ass with not his cock. but his nose. would your ass be so tight that it would bleed? bleed just from having his nose in?

he was huffing like an animal in heat. grunting as he eats your pussy. wet sounds that he made while eating your cunt was filling the room. he was gulping. drinking. every inch of your pussy. getting so drunk on it. "fuck baby- i love your pussy fuck i love it" he groans as he stares at the rednees and puffines of it. spreading your folds with his fingers. before directly shoving his pierced tongue in.

he whimpers as he slowly start grinding his nose against your tight ass hole. eyes rolling at how tight it was clenching. his rough hands were gripping your ass. spreading your cheeks wide. your eyes widen as you realize what's he's trying to do.

"daddy no! it's dirty- ah" he whine out feeling him tearing his nose into your ass. while his tongue was still shoved deep inside of you. you tired to move your plumpy ass away from his hold. but he growled. warning to not take his meal away.

your ass was on fire as you feel his nose making it's way in. choso was in heaven. his fat cock was painfully hard. throbbing at how tight you were. it was hard for him to breath but he didn't care. nothing is gonna stop him from enjoying his meal.

you tremble against him. the feeling of being stuffed. the feeling of having something shoved inside your tight ass. it all simulated it you so much. "choso- ah! no more! no more! im going to pee!" you cry out. trying to escape his grip. but he wouldn't let go.

excitement buzzed through his whole body at your words. he grips your hips. and hold you up then shove you back down on his nose. forcing you to hump it.

and you couldn't hold it back anymore. screaming before you slump down. hot stream of your squirt shooting directly inside his mouth. it was dripping down his neck. choso was shaking. groaning. as he starts drinking every bit of your warm liquid. locking his mouth on the pee hole a bit down your clit.

he soon realized you passed out. but he didn't care. like he said nothing is going to stop him from enjoying his meal.

𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧:

sukuna knew you were a needy little slut for him. but he never knew you would go this far. he never knew you would go as far as tieing him up on his office chair because he wasn't giving your pussy any attention.

"you flight little whore" sukuna growls out as he stares at the way you start undressing your self on his desk. slowly revealing your wet pussy. placing your ass on his cold desk before spreading your legs. giving full view of how desperate your pussy for his fat cock was.

"if you untie me right now. i might show some mercy to your desperate little pussy" he whispers as he hungrily stares at the way you swipe your fingers against your puffy clit. while you slowly pinch your perky nipples. staring at his cock that you freed out of his pants. it was hitting his abdomen. already so hard.

you giggle. "who said im going to untie you? you have been so mean to me" you pout. "so im going to be mean to you too" you grin staring at his dark eyes. eyes that were ready to devour you. moaning out as you shove one finger in. then two. staring at the way sukunas cock start leaking. dripping down his heavy balls.

the sounds of your fingers fucking your wet pussy filled his office. the smell of your wetness passed through the air. hitting his nose. has him clenching his jaw painfully. once he sees the way your body starts arching your hips. the way your pussy clench so hard around your fingers. the way you were making a mess on his desk. your juice dripping every where. he lose it.

he groan out before he snaps the pathetic of a tie you had on him. standing up his office chair. and rubbing on the red spot the tie left. your eyes widen. and your movement halt as he makes his way towards you. he roughly picks you up. and bend you over his desk. not giving you enough time to process.

he shove his hard cock inside your pussy. causing you to scream. he doesn't stop. thrusting inside of you without mercy. the desk was shaking from the force. "isn't this what you wanted? huh?" he darkly questions. grabbing your hair into his rough hands. pulling it back. forcing you to look at him.

it was so painful. so painfully good. he was gripping your hips. forcing you to match his movements. leaving harsh bites on your neck. you can feel his spit dripping down. his balls were smacking against your ass. creating a loud sound echoing through his office. you wanted to pee so bad. you wanted to let it out so bad.

"fucking cum slut" he growls in your ear. fastening his movements. you can feel his warm breath hitting you as he exhales harshly. this all drives your body to shake. giving out on the desk. as hot wetness streams down your thighs. sukuna can feel it. he knew it. you peed through your orgasm. he groans. it was so dirty so filthy. the warm wetness hitting his balls. soon enough he was emptying his balls inside of you. painting your insides white with a last thrust.

maybe he discovered a new kink.

𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨:

nanami wasn't shy about what he wanted. he wasn't shy or embarrassed about describing to you. in details. what he craved. what he needed. he was blunt. which always seem to catch you off surprise. you could be cooking breakfast for him. moving around in the kitchen.

just to turn around and catch a glimpse of a shirtless nanami. shirtless nanami with his pants loss. leaking cock out. as he stroke it. watching you. admiring you. as soon as your eyes move toward his fat cock. he whimpers beating it faster. swiping his thumb on his leaking angry red tip.

"baby..." his voice was deep and husky still tainted with sleep. "I liked what you were doing with your hips.." he whimpers. tugging on his cock harder. your mouth days out. because you knew when he acts like this it meant something.

"nanami". you beathed out against his swollen lips. hearing his heavy breath coming out. you swallowed once his hooded lids lifted just enough to look up at you. " lie down for me". he does with no hesitation. making his way toward the couch in the living room.

you lazily climb up his body. placing your thighs on either sides of his body. cagging him in. before you push your hips up. and slid your already soaked panties off. slumping down your wet pussy on his abs. causing him to hiss through his teeth.

you could feel yourself growing wetter and more eager as you made it down to the top of his chest. his heart was beating rapidly you could feel it on your pussy, like a jackhammer thudding behind his thick pec. the feel of the beat of his heart against your pussy almost made you melt. he was barely keeping it together, controlling whatever that was trying to break free inside of him.

"baby" he breathily moaned again when you placed my lips around one of his flat nipples and sucked gently on it. when you scraped your teeth over it, he hissed through his own and squeezed you hips tightly. "baby!" he groans out once he feels you grinding your pussy against his abs. rubbing your wetness on him.

and he does something that has you on the edge. he cums. he spurts his warm liquid against your ass. hitting your pussy. he came just from having his nipples played. you moan out before you start grinding faster on him.

using his cum that hit your pussy as a lube. it was so sloppy. you wanted to halt your movements because of the weird feeling that was starting to build inside of you.

but nanami didn't let you. he grabbed your hips. and forced you to continue. your body trembles. before an unfamiliar sensation of hit stream leave your cunt. landing on his chest. and a part of his neck. nanamis jaw was wide open. so aroused at the sight of your pee dripping down his nipples.

and he cums for the second time untouched.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮:

toji would always get what he wants from you. simply grabbing you. and bending you over the kitchens counter. before he free his rock hard cock. and shove it up your warm cunt. he didn't care. you were his as much as he was yours. he would mind not even one bit if you use him whenever you were horny. grinding on his thighs. as he humps it up your pussy. giving your relief. even while you're sleeping.

he wouldn't bother to wake you up. having you naked under the blankets. he would throw his boxers on the other side of the bed before he joins you. slipping his thick cock deep inside your warm cunt.

"shhh go back to sleep baby, let daddy enjoy this pussy" toji coo at your sleeping figure. and you gently close your eyes. hearing you soft snores again. "such a good girl for me" toji mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.

he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.

gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.

he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.

you squirt all over his hand, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- toji couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his hand. just to place it back into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.

your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest because we're not done yet".

𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮:

gojo he was a messy eater. every time you observe the way he eats. it seems like he didn't have any manners. he was a messy eater. especially with the way he ate your wet pussy. spitting on it. letting his spit land directly on your swollen clit. before he start devouring his feast. lapping on your wetness- and his wetness.

his cum that he filled you with a second ago. he seems to have a habit of filling your womb with his seeds. and as soon as it starts spilling out of your pussy. he would fuck it back in you with his tongue.

he wasn't ashamed to go out. showing his messy face that was still coated with your wetness. he would go as far as eating you out on his office chair. telling the maids to bring his favorite dessert to him- which was you. everyone already knew what he meant by that. you would come over with a flushed face knowing whats going to happen. gojo would grab you and place you directly on his mouth .

letting you grind on his tongue that was shoved deep inside of your pussy. while the maids were still there. standing. staring at the floor. not daring to look.

it wasn't surprising for him when you let out your hot stream in his mouth. while he's enjoying his mean. it drove him more mad. having you shaking and begging him to stop. embarrassed about it.

but as you said gojo didn't give a fuck. he enjoyed that shit. he craved it. in fact he wouldn't stop till you pee all over him. squirt all over him.

he wasn't satisfied until you do. he wanted it more and more and more. every day. every minute. every second.

[driaswrld]

and yes, in the tsr universe satosugu and reader do go see the barbie movie. and yes, gojo and geto have matching 'im kenough' shirts

[nkogneatho]

— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍

—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso

—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.

—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️

introduction to the universe:

Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.

“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.

The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.

“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.

“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.

“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.

“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.

“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.

“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.

“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.

“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.

“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.

“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.

“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.

“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.

“I am over-lactating.”

“What happened to the breast cups?”

“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.

“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.

“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his rock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.

“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.

“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.

“Lwove it.”

“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.

“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.

“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?

“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.

“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”

Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.

“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.

“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.

“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”

“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.

“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.

Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.

“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.

“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”

“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”

“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.

“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.

“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”

“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.

“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.

Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.

“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“Then he had the audacity to—”

“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.

After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?

You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.

Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.

“Are you okay?”

“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”

“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.

“L/N-san, this isn't right—”

“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.

Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.

“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.

He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.

“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.

You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.

“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.

“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.

“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.

“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.

“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.

“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.

@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat

[nezuscribe]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

summary: once childhood friends with the crown prince, you find yourself in a troubled situation when he calls for you to help him around with his daily duties as the king to be. he seems to have forgotten everything, forgotten who you even were. but as the palace's most loyal servant there's only so many things that you can tolerate, including the prince.

warnings: 18+ mdni, slight angst misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, minor panic attack/overall anxiety (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo is a certified munch

word count: 14.1k (sorry)

note: i can only write gojo in a royal setting now so that’s that. i really liked writing this fic so comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

jjk masterlist

it all started with that night.

when the air was biting, cold and harsh. the moon offered so little of her light as you ran across the open foyer, feeling your tear stained cheeks more than you had back in the ballroom as you could barely feel your heartbeat, not stopping until you were out of the grand double doors, running as fast as you could through the gardens until you were sure everything and everybody was far behind you. 

you continued for a little more, finding yourself at the foot of the rose gardens, your chest heaving up and down, sweat dotting your forehead. you were sure the rouge that you had so carefully dotted onto yourself was ruined now, but that was the least of your worries. 

you place a hand on your chest, catching your breath, looking behind you to make sure that nobody had followed you outside. most nights, such as ones like this, you enjoyed the freckles of stars above you, but now, all that filled your mind were the events of moments ago. 

the staring, the judgment. 

“is everything all right?” 

your head snaps around, your eyes wide in shock as you find a man standing behind you, a careful feet away so as to not startle you even more than he already had. you couldn't make out his face in the darkness, but with your blurry vision, you doubt you could make out your own reflection.

you nod feverishly, trying for a smile that was shaking and quivering as you turn away for a second, patting your cheeks dry as you try out for a weak laugh. 

“yes, t-thank you,” your voice cracks, your lips trembling and your breathing heavy. your uniform and apron was sticking tightly to your skin and everything seemed as if it was tilted on an axis. you felt like the world was spinning in the opposite direction, and had it not been for the strong  hands behind you that steadied you upwards, you were sure you would’ve fallen down. 

“miss, are you sure everythings alright? surely i can call for a-” the man stops when you shake your head quickly, just realizing how much trouble you were going to be in if your superior ever saw you missing from your post. 

“no, thank you, i, i have to go,” you try to stand up again but stumble, grateful that he still had a steady hand on your elbow, “i apologize, i don’t know why i’m so dizzy.” you say, holding your head in your hands, trying to ease your temple with the thumping it was doing. 

“would it perhaps be because you ran through the entire courtyard in a matter of seconds?” his voice is low yet teasing, and you should be embarrassed and mortified that somebody saw you, but you feel beside yourself tonight and laugh, nodding along.

“perhaps,” there’s a small smile on your face, but the gentleman chuckles along, helping you stand comfortably, making sure you didn’t need him until he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t topple over. 

“are you not enjoying the festivities?” he remains a good distance away from you, though you’re glad he’s given you some space. 

you swallow thickly, rubbing at your eyes and cheeks to rid them of the tears but they just seem to be non-stop. 

“the festivities aren’t the problem,” you sniffle, hiccuping as you laugh wetly, “i just seem to be too sensitive for the likes of them.” you say the last word with some weight.

you thought that after all these years, after all the times you proved you’re more than your lineage, somebody always manages to bring it up. 

he doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, the only sound that you can hear is your shuddered breathing. 

“take in a deep breath,” his words are soft, but your head snaps up, confused. 

“it’s a breathing exercise,” he explains further, gently, “one in, one out,” he places a sturdy hand on your back, one that was too close for if a chaperon were to ever see you in such a compromising position you would be ruined, “we’ll do it together, i’ll count.”

your eyes are squeezed shut, but you mimic your breathing to his rhythmic breathes, your mouth open as small puffs of air fill your collapsing lungs. it takes a while for this sort of breathing pattern to take effect, but it helps you to calm down a bit. your nerves are still erratic, but it’s better than before. 

“there you go,” his voice is soothing, calming, something you’ve never heard before, something you’ve never known you’ve needed.

there’s a few beats of silence, your eyes squeezed shut until you finally open them again to get a good look of who this stranger was. 

“i have to thank you…” you trail off, your breath catching harshly in your throat when you're met with those familiar eyes, the same ones you see in the paintings you are set to clean each and every day, the same ones that look at yo with childish joy when he used to chase you around the courtyard when you were children. the infamous white hair, a tale telling of his lineage, and the countless medallions on his suit.

you don’t know what to do, and you take a tentative step back. all the feelings of fear, of embarrassment, of dread coming rushing back, but ten times worse. 

“sato…y-your highness, i,” you stagger backwards, “i…” you’re at a loss for words, your breaths coming out erratic again. 

he reaches his hand out for you to take again, his brows furrowed in confusion with you sudden change of emotions, growing into even more confusion when he gets a better look at you, memories rushing back at the strange familiarity of your face, but you don’t know as you scrunch your uniform between your fingers, muttering some unintelligible words under your breath as you bow hurriedly, brushing past him as you speedily make your way back to the palace, breaking about every protocol you have been taught since your first day there,

blissfully unaware of just how much your life was about to change.

—

the life of a palace maid is a bustling one, full of daily duties that fill your time from the moment you wake up to the moment you put your head down to rest. dusting the staircases, making sure the royal portraits are in tip-top shape, and, of course, tending to any of the needs the royals themselves need. 

you were lucky in your position, not too close to the top where any slight mess up could be your undoing, but far up where you could enjoy the more tedious and rewarding of tasks that others, such as the kitchen workers or the stables servants, may not have the luxury of having. you count your lucky stars every day that you’re not stuck cleaning fru-fru’s (the king's prized horse) droppings. 

“there really are no breaks,” lydia muttered under her breath, folding the freshly cleaned linen sheets as you gave her a look from under your lashes, warning her to be careful with her words, never too sure of how alone you two could be, “what? it’s just the truth.” 

you snort, not disagreeing with her because it was the truth. there had been royal balls upon endless balls, countless gala’s and feasts for the past couple of months. the prince was finally rumored ready to take on a wife, and all the eligible bachelors and their mamas have flocked to the scene, ready to become part of the gojo family. 

the last one had been all but two weeks ago, the same one where…you couldn’t think of it too much, glad that nobody else was there to witness your trivial breakdown. all except the prince, of course, but you hadn’t been beheaded yet so you never mentioned it to anybody. 

but, despite the last social gathering being so recent, another one was about to take place in a week. everybody could feel their hands splitting raw at the thought of cleaning the palace once again, but it was all in a day's work. 

“though i must say, you always seem to find a way to entertain yourself through all these surely grueling events,” you tease, a knowing look in your eyes as an unmistakable blush takes over her cheeks. 

“well!” she exclaimed, laughing under her breath as she fanned herself with her gloved hand, picking up another sheet to fold, “if a young man displayed his notable affections towards me, i would only be mad not to entertain them.” 

“you’re such a flirt,” you giggle, careful to keep your voices quiet so that nobody would come and break the two of you up. you were fortunate enough to spend most of your time with your closest friend, but if anybody ever got a whiff of just how much the two of you enjoyed folding bed sheets or tidying up the king's study. 

“there have been countless events, and yet, there is no wife,” she says this more as a statement rather than anything, “do you think it’s because the prince is cruel?” 

she was right about this, too. it was more often than not when lydia was wrong.

it had been a couple months of trying to set the prince up with his rightful match. women from corners of the earth, places you’ve never heard of, have found their ways to these balls and galas. of course, the palace did all they could to quell the rumors on why it was taking their beloved prince so long to find a wife, and yet, they could do so much. the rumors were beginning to grow, and none in his favor.

you laugh uncomfortably, hoping that nobody could hear the two of you in this closet. 

“the prince? cruel?” you shrug, feigning indifference. 

he wasn't cruel when you met him. 

and he never was crue all those years agol, or at least from what you could recall. 

because before there was lydia, there was satoru. 

so many years ago, you and the prince were childhood friends. he somehow introduced himself one of the days you were cleaning the castle, your uniform still so large seeing how it was made for a teenager and you were yet to reach six, so you were swallowed by it. but he didn't seem to care much about who you were, rather the fact that he was able to find somebody around his age, happy to have a friend that didn’t have to practice fencing with. 

the two of you were close, as close as a prince and a young maid can get. 

you never had a semblance of a normal childhood, but for those few years that you had known him, he offered you some normality that you would've never expected from the crown prince. at nights, when the two of you would meet up in a spare closet, he’d unravel a satchel full of bread and sweets, things he had stolen from his dinner table, knowing that your meals were often far smaller than his. 

he didn’t seem to forget you, even as he grew in his adolescence. he’d still find you wherever you were, a bright smile on his face as you gave yourself a quick break, running around the gardens with him as you squealed, trying not to get caught by him as he tried to push you down into the river nearby. 

but, you tended to be more level-headed than him, and easily foresaw the day that came when his advisors found out he had been befriending the servant girl, more specifically the daughter of the town courtesan, and before you knew it, you had been swept away, promised to never mingle with him again. they couldn’t strip you bare of your position at the palace, knowing that you worked for far less than others asked for and longer than most did, but they changed your place, your rooms, and you barely saw him again. he soon forgot, and you counted yourself lucky that you were still able to have a memory to latch on to. 

“or perhaps he’s unlikely to even take a wife. he may prefer his time spent with multiple women, if you get what i mean,” she continues, your thought coming back into focus as you suddenly realize what she just said, swatting her with one of the towels while saying such an unbecoming thing about her prince. 

“or maybe he’s taking his time,” you give her a pointed look for being so crass, “he might be holding out for a love match.” you say, your gaze focused on your nimble fingers as you fold the sheets as if it were second nature, your body moving faster than your mind was. 

she snorts, rolling her eyes at your romantics. 

“you can’t-” she goes to say something but is crudely cut off by the doors behind the two of you swinging open. 

your necks snap around as you are instant to stand, bowing deeply to whoever it is that walks in, looking up only after a brief pause. 

a part of you tenses upon seeing the housekeeper, miss lottie, entering in. her graying hairs were pulled back in a tight bun, the uniform that all the maids wore ironed to perfection. though she may not be as in her youth as she once was, her face was void of wrinkles, a feat, considering her position. 

two men who you had never seen before walking in behind her, standing on either side as she motions for the both of you to introduce yourselves. lydia bows once again, saying her name, and you do the same. 

“these are the last of my girls, gentlemen,” she starts with a sigh, massaging her temple, missing the confused look you and lydia shared as she offered no explanation for what was happening, “these are the only other maids in my department that wear this uniform.” 

the two guards look at you and lydia top and down, their eyes racking over your features, your postures, your faces. you felt sweat prickling at the back of your neck, your hands growing clammy as your mouth dried. 

surely, it can’t be.

“her,” one of the guards raised his gloved hand to you. 

“her?” lydia cries out loud, earning a disapproving look from miss lottie, but the old woman seems to be just as confused as you and lydia. 

“come with us,” the other one says, opening the door further, not seeming to care about your stupified state as you grip onto lydia’s wrist as tightly as you could.

you couldn’t speak, couldn't breath. you felt like you did that night, the same dreadful feeling that filled your veins and your lungs, keeping you from taking in the air you so desperately needed. 

“gentlemen,” lydia takes a step forward, trying to shield you with her body, “i’m sure whatever it is you’re after, she,” she points her head over to you, “is certainly not it.”

this is it, you tell yourself, they’ve finally tracked you down. 

the two guards don’t pay her any mind, don’t even address nor speak to her as they push her aside, wrenching your hands away from her as they try to move you forward, trying to move you away. 

“miss lydia, please,” miss lottie almost seems to beg, has her brows furrowed in puzzlement as to what was happening, her mouth agape as she watches them take you away. 

you feel your mind go hazy, your vision turning blurry as you dumbly follow the guards out of the room, the muted shouts of your friends growing softer and softer behind you as you walk through the halls you[‘ve been walking through for nearly your entire life, 

not knowing if it would be your last. 

—

the three of you walk for a while, and it doesn't help that nauseous and sinking feeling that you have growing in the pit of your stomach. your eyes darted around, your cheeks heating up in an uncomfortable flush when you caught the glances the others servants and maids gave, the way they began instantly whispering behind their gloved hands or one another as to what could be happening. 

you quickly looked down, watching your steps. if you weren't ruined after whatever this was, the gossip that was to circulate about you surely would.

they lead you up a spiral staircase, through the east wing, and after some time, the walls and the floors begin to grow unfamiliar to you. these are the places that even you weren’t authorized to clean, places that only the most trusted and known people were allowed to be. 

you peek around through the corners of your eyes, trying to take it all in one last time. there is more gold encrusted into the painting, the wall decorum, the ceiling. it’s more grand than you even thought the palace could be, and had it not been for your doomed fate, you would’ve tried to savor it more. 

the guards in front of you suddenly stop in front of a door, and you almost bump into one of them had you not stopped yourself milliseconds before. 

one of the guards raised his fist, knocking once, letting his hands fall behind his back. 

you wait with baited breath until you hear a muffled, “come in,” from behind the door, and the other guard turns the knob, the door swinging wide open. 

the two men come in before you do, their bodies hiding the view. you stay outside, your hands shaking, waiting until further instruction. 

the guards are speaking to the person inside, their voice mixing with each other in your muddled head, and you feel your eyes begin to wet. all of your hard work, all the sacrifices you’ve made along the way, every sleepless night devoted to securing your rank and your future were now going up in flames. 

“why didn’t you tell her to come in?” the first voice grows a little louder, “come in, miss,” he calls out, and you take in a deep, shaky breath. 

you take a slow, tentative step inside, and then another one. your feet pad in quietly, your head ducked down in respect but also because you couldn't have these people seeing you like this, it was mortifying as it was. 

you bow, knowing that you were in the presence of royalty from just the atmosphere of the room alone. you go down as low as you can, almost kissing the floor with your nose. 

“you men can go now,” the voice, an all too familiar one, says. 

you hear their heavy footsteps behind you, the door shutting with a thud. 

“you can stand,” the prince says, his voice less loud and commanding. 

you slowly rise, still keeping your head down, your eyes meeting a desk, some papers, and when you finally look up, the prince. 

his smile quickly drops when he sees your face, quickly moving away from his seat as he rounds the table, making his way over to you as you quickly wipe away at your tears. it was breaking your etiquette protocol for how you were to act if you were to ever come face to face with royalty, but you don’t see any point in acting in such a way when this is somehow quite similar to your first encounter. 

“are you hurt?” he quickly asks, standing a foot away from you, his eyes darting around your body as you quickly shake your head, sniffing as you stand as perfectly still as you could. 

“were my guards rough with you?” he looks behind himself at the door, “i will have a word with them immediately-” 

but you shake your head again, swallowing thickly as you dip your head down once, going to speak. 

“it was not the guards, your highness,” you feel like time is stopping as he stares intently at you, “i just have an apathy for being too emotional at times.” you try to joke, but with the way your heart was beating so loudly and erratically, it drowned out any humor you may have been trying for. 

“is it perhaps because you’ve been called to the prince's study with no reason or explanation?” he jokes, his eyes look at you from beneath his long lashes and you laugh wetly.

“perhaps,” you accept the handkerchief he gives you with a small thank you.

you wipe at your tears, quickly composing yourself with taking a couple of more steady breaths, and you were glad that the prince was at least giving you this time to look a little more presentable until he sentenced you to your punishment. 

“right, well,” he claps his hands together, a small smile on his face as he inches backwards until he’s able to sit on his desk, not caring for the slue of papers underneath, “i’m glad i was finally able to find you.”

find you?

you don’t say anything, your eyes taking him in for the first time, and for the first time, the rumors were correct. 

he was positively gorgeous. 

the veil of night hid a lot of his features, leaving only the more pronounced things for you to see. not only that, but you had been sworn to keep away from him, the last time you were really able to see him was years ago. 

but now, illuminated under the light from the large windows to the side of him, you can see him as clearly as you possibly could. his eyes were striking and stark, a blue that you could only get if you looked at the sea and saw all the colors mixing around together. his lips were plump and pink. his jaw was sturdy, but that could’ve been said along with the rest of his body, no longer looking like the lanky little boy that you were used to envisioning. though he donned a simple white button up, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing just how strong he was. everything about him exuded radiance, the spectacularity that only comes with being the crown prince. 

you try to focus yourself again, and try not to melt under the way he noticed you staring too hard, his smile turning into something far more teasing.

he wets his lips, sitting up a little bit straight, pushing himself off the table just a bit so that he could be closer to you. 

“my name is satoru,” he extends his hand outward, and you stare at it. 

oh, a part of you sinks, he doesn't remember you.

“shake, please” he says as if reading your mind, “my hand isn’t infected with a fungal disease if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

you quickly nod, feeling sheepish as your hands slowly raise from where they were resting on your crumpled apron, fingers gently and barely there as they glide against his palm until your hand is enclosed in his, fingers curling around his as you shake. 

his palm is soft, unlike yours which had grown rough and riddles with scratches and cuts from over the years. he shakes firmly yet gently, not too harsh unlike the other men whose hands you’ve shaken before, making it somewhat a point to not only bruise your skin but to show off their strength as you look at them with a sneer. 

you don’t let go until he does, not wanting to seem rude or improper, and your hands quickly fall back down to your sides. you’re aware of the stains of food and dirt on your white apron, the way it is held together through stitches and intricate sewing. it’s a stark difference to what he’s wearing, even if simple, but the quiet opulence is what differentiates the two of you so easily. 

he waits patiently and you suddenly realize that he’s waiting for your name. you said it quickly, your eyes darting to him as you bow your head again.

“as i said,” he continued, his head turning as he looked out the window, taking in the scenery, “i have been trying my best to find you ever since, well, i’m sure you remember.”

“i was told by…miss marla scott, is it?” he asks, and you nod, miss lottie, “that you are one of, if not, her best girls.”

you nod again, not knowing what to do. he was going on about this as if all those years ago were a figment of your imagination, as if your childhoods weren’t linked together the way you recall them being. that could be for the best though, seeing how you could be in trouble if anyone were to remember. 

“i’ve recently had to do away with some of my valets, they didn’t meet my expectations.” he scratches his jaw, looking back at you, his eyes simmering as you look at him from beneath your lashes. 

“i would like for you to be my maid.” he finally said, his fingers playing with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth as it caught and reflected the sunlight. 

there’s a beat of silence, a moment in which the two of you just look at each other. 

you almost laughed in shock, your brows shooting upwards in surprise, hands interlinking themselves as they rested on your queasy stomach. 

“p-pardon,” you swallow dryly, “pardon me?” 

he waves it off, his eyes playful, obviously understanding that you weren’t expecting this and he runs a hand through his arctic hair. you intently watch his every movement, waiting for him to burst out into laughter and to say that this was all one big joke, one meant to set you up into a trap. 

“you’d have to make my bed every day, make sure my room is clean. my office,” he motions to the room around the two of you, “as well. anywhere i am, you are. i’m not a particularly messy person, but i like the assurance a maid provides.”

“your highness,” you breathe deeply through your nose, a puff of air coming out as you smile shortly, “i am more than honored, but i’m not sure i’ve been trained the way a personal maid has been trained. i would hate to disappoint you,” you chose your words carefully, but he waves it all off with his gloved hand.

“you will be taught. after all, you are the best, are you not?” his eyes crease around the edges, waiting for you to simply nod once again, and you do, slowly. 

“but, your highness, i…” you trail off, failing silent and running out of words as you find yourself sputtering under his gaze. you’re usually one who’s easily composed, your back straight and shoulders pressed backwards, but you feel it all slipping away. 

“why me? i surely couldn’t have made a favorable impression the first time we met, your highness.”

he looks at you for a moment, brief, fleeting. 

“you’re human, it happens,” he simply says, his eyes flickering a different shade, “my mother always tells me that we forget to exhaust the capabilities that connect us together,” he rubs in between his brows, soothing the crease, not going any further into his explanation when he looks up at you, his smile debonair, “now, do you accept?”

you suck in a breath. 

one nod. 

yes. 

—-

you were quickly swept away from your normal routine of things to become the princes maid, something that you could barely even get out once lydia was able to ask you about what had happened. you can remember the looks you received after walking to your new quarters, a private room for the first time in your life, by the people who judged you the first time around, feeling a little victorious with your single back packed with the three changes of clothes you owned. 

you spent days going over what was to be expected of you, and it all felt like it was a joke. 

it was too simple, too easy of a job with an even simpler explanation from the prince as to why you were even here. 

“his highness wakes up early, so you will need to be up before he is,” one of the ladies who was briskly walking around the princes caves explained rapidly, “and his nighttime schedule is, well, hectic, which means you will have to be with him until he goes to sleep.”

you blink, trying to get that all in as you take mental notes of everything you are being taught. 

“and during the day? where should i be?”

she looked up at you as if you were an idiot, as if that was the most obvious question you could’ve asked. 

“by his side, of course, you are to ensure his highness is always comfortable. your role is beyond making his bed or simply cleaning up after him. it’s making sure that our prince is at ease when he is to one day become our king.”

you never thought you would be standing behind the door of the prince's chambers, waiting for him to wake up, but your life always seemed to have a different plan waiting for you than what you’d expect. 

it’s better than you’d expect it to have been, too. at first, it was difficult getting used to the prince and his way of doing things. he would act rash sometimes, acting without thinking of the consequences. he was playful, he loved laughing. there were times when you’d be standing a good distance away from him when he’d be having dinner with families of women who were there to marry him, diplomats that talked just to bore it would seem, and you’d catch his wandering eye, suppressing a smile that seemed to quirk up on his face as well. 

it wasn’t long before you found yourself speaking more freely around him, keeping some of the pleasantries, but regarding him more as a friend, just as you would with lydia. 

he would often spend hours away in his study just talking, telling you about his daily outings and the struggles he was having with finding a wife. whenever you offered your thoughts or opinions he listened thoughtfully, his gaze heavy and caring.

though he may not have remembered your ancient friendship, you did, and an old part of you feels like it’s coming back after all those years. the naive part that was just happy to have a person to talk to, somebody that wouldn’t look at you in disgust or pity. 

but you bring your focus back to now, listening intently, waiting to hear the bed sheets ruffle and the floorboards to creak as he makes his way out of his bed. 

after a couple of weeks of doing this you’ve become somewhat familiar with the prince's way of doing things, and just as you thought he was going to sleep in, you hear the bedsheets ruffle with movement. 

“your highness?” you call quietly, “may i come in?”

there’s a loud yawn, something unintelligible, and then you hear the go ahead for you to go. 

you slowly open the door, making sure not to be loud as you bow politely, closing the door before you as you set the tray of cold water and fruits down on the nightstand near his bed. 

the prince prefers to eat something before he breaks his fast in front of his family and the watchful eyes of the palace, enjoying these small moments he has with himself. 

“good morning your highness,” you greet, lighting the candle as you look behind your shoulder to see the prince groggily running at his eyes, yawning once again as he waves tiredly to you. 

why he chooses to wake up before the sun is even in the sky is beyond you, but you would be mad to question the choices of the prince. unfortunately, he seems to be waking up even earlier than the times you were told, so every morning you find yourself getting up at the crack of dawn to make sure you’re up before he is. 

“did you sleep well?” you walk around the bed, setting down some fresh sheets and clothes for him to pick out, opening the curtains as you watch the sun just barely peek out from the horizon. 

“well enough,” his voice is deep, filled with sleep, and you're glad your back is momentarily turned so that he couldn’t see the way a smile threatened to poke its way on your face. 

“i’m glad to hear,” you turn around, catching him briefly taking a swing of water, savoring its coolness, and you try not to look too long at the droplets that roll down his chin, splattering on his thigh, “would you like me to go through your events set for the day?” 

he glances at you from over his cup, blinking as he wordlessly tells you to continue. 

“today, you are to meet with the king's advisors after you break your fast, but i doubt they should take too long. at noon, you have a lunch meeting set with the lady dower and her daughter,” you quote from memory, “and afterwards we are to swiftly get you ready for tonight's ball.” 

he groans loudly, opposing this, and you smirk, your eyes trained on him as he sets his water down, sniffing as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head. you feel like a fiend, with the way you quickly avert your gaze from his toned stomach, the happy trail of hair that leads…

your eyes shoot up at him, glad that his were still screwed shut, another yawn escaping his lips as he leans his head side to side, cracking his neck.

“i’ve already met with the lady dower,” he almost whines, his nose wrinkling at the thought, “what do they want this time?” 

“a ring, probably,” you mutter under your breath, but he hears, a chuckle falling past his lips as he nods along, tsking as he shrugs. he obviously doesn’t want the dower girl to be his wife, and you could only feel sorry for how tense the meetings going to be. 

he picks up a cube of melon, popping it in his mouth, humming at the sweet taste. he offers the bowl to you, just as he’s always done, but you politely decline, just as you’ve always done. you may have become friendly with the prince, but there is still some semblance of protocol that you’ll force yourself to follow. 

“is this chocolate?” he pipes up, looking at the tray a bit more closely, holding up the little sweet to the light. 

“you’ve mentioned how much you like them, and the kitchen has been making a plethora of them for the ball, so i thought i should snag you some before they're all gone.” you explain, and he turns it around, shooting you a thankful, genuine smile. he sets it down, most likely saving it until the very last moment.

“will you be there? tonight?” he asks, filling up his glass with water once again. 

“not down there with you, your highness-” 

“how many times have i told you to drop the titles?” he chides playfully, cutting you off as you sigh deeply through your nose. you’re terrified of calling him by his name too many times in private, and slipping up in public, knowing just how bad it would turn out for you if that were to happen. 

“not down there with you, gojo,” you say his last name with extra weight, just a little bit of sass, and he rolls his eyes, “i am to help out elsewhere.” 

he nods in understanding. 

“could you be down there?” he picks up a piece of watermelon, fashioned into a sphere, eating it as you sputter, brows furrowing in slight confusion as you open your mouth, shut it, and then open it again to speak. 

“unless i am serving, i would not be allowed,” you explain, following behind him as he moves away from the bed, quickly making the messed up sheets as he makes room for you. you’re supposed to wait until he’s out of the room, but in your growing friendship with the prince, you find it amusing the way he flutters away. 

he makes a small sound in the back of his throat, and you look behind your shoulder to see him deep in thought. 

“i’ll find a way.” 

“what-” 

“i’ll see you later,” he exits his room, shutting himself in his bathroom as the other servants are their, waiting with his bath drawn, leaving you there to gape in silence. 

—-

gojo somehow stuck to his word, finding a way for you to be near him by the time the ball arrived. 

you felt overwhelmed, your senses were going hardwire at the sheer size of everything. it was one thing to be part of setting up the decorations, or to view it from afar behind a pillar, but to be part of it was something totally different. 

there had been a couple balls since you first started your new position, but this happened to be the first one that you had gotten clearance for. of course, you weren’t a part of the crowd, hidden somewhere in the midst of servants and servers, but you were nearer than you’ve ever been. 

they even dress you up in more fashionable servant clothes, knowing that if you were to wear your tattered uniform it would easily give it away that you weren’t one of them. you didn’t have a job for the evening other than to make sure that the prince was comfortable, so you tried everything you could not to let him out of your sight. 

you found yourself searching for lydia in the crowd, but she had told you that she’d be in the kitchens, having to help out with the food they’d be sending out, and so you doubted you would be able to catch a glimpse of her amongst all the chaos that is hidden to their eyes. 

the prince, despite your best efforts, kept getting drowned in by the sea of people and ball gowns. every time he twirled a girl around for a dance he was hidden by a wave of colorful fabrics, and you’d have to squint to see his white hair peeking out.

you tapped your fingers on the railing you were leaning against, trying to soak it all in while you had the chance. you had heard of the royal balls and just how extravagant they truly could be, but you never thought you’d have the chance to see one in its entirety. 

“i don’t believe we’ve met,” 

your head snaps to your left, eyes widening in surprise at the stranger that had somehow slithered their way next to you without noticing.

“i apologize, i didn't mean to scare you,” the man says with an apologetic laugh. you huff out a small sound, shaking your head as you bow your body a little bit, watching as he bows his head in turn.

“no apology necessary, uh, mister…?” you pause, realizing that you actually haven’t even seen his face before, let alone heard of his name.

“fushiguro,” he finishes for you, the scar on his lip quirking upwards as he settles himself on teh railing, looking down at the scene below you as he shoots you a small look, “but i’d prefer it if you’d call me toji.”

you duck your head down, smiling as you repeat your name, feeling heat pricks at the back of your neck. he’s certainly handsome, and most likely higher ranked in title with the expensive material he fills out well. 

you’ve seen him around, most likely from afar. his face is familiar, and you’re sure that he’s had to have at least another one of these balls considering the fact that he’s given up mixing with the ton. 

he surely has to note that what you’re wearing is on par with what the other servants and maids are, but he doesn't choose to comment.

“i’ve started a little bet with myself,” he says, his voice deep and gruff. you take a second to look him over thoroughly, noting the way his hair is messy and looks undone, black as the night. his eyes shimmer green, but turn more olive toned in the light, and he has a smile exudes an air of confidence, “would you like you partake in it?”

you smile, looking at him from the side. 

“i thought they taught you better manners than to introduce yourself with a bet when you first meet a lady.” 

he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes glint. 

“thought i already told you my name?” he’s smooth with it, and you’re not used to this. 

you don’t say anything for a second, your chest moving as you take in a necessary gulp of air. you normally try not to think too much in gojo’s flirtatious personality, because he seems to be like that with everybody he’s ever met. but this is new. 

“see,” he leans in, your arms touching as you both lean a bit over the railing, and he’s lower this voice to a whisper so that nobody else can hear, “i bet that our little prince is setting his eyes on the young lady in the red dress, but i also bet that he may be mulling over the one in the green shawl.” his fingers slyly point to the two of them, and you crane your neck a bit, standing on your toes as you try to get a better look. the man, toji, isn’t incorrect in his observations. gojo has danced with miss corden almost three times at this point, and another two with miss ahura, but you remember that he only favored these two more because they tended not to step on his shoes when dancing. you suppress your smile, choosing to indulge him in his little bet.  

“i say miss ahura has a better chance,” you say and he watches as gojo twirls her around on the dance floor, “her family is far more affluent and i hear that she has riches beyond comprehension in persia.” 

“are you saying our prince is covetous? the sacrilege,” his voice is full of mirth and you hide your little giggle behind a gloved hand, your elbows lightly hitting his as you keep your eyes trained down below. 

the waltz comes to an end, the violinists lifting their instrument off from their shoulders as they prepare for the next piece, the ladies and gentlemens who had just danced bowing to each other as they separate. 

you watch for gojo, watch as he moves to the end of the floor, accepting the drink one of his companions had waiting for him as he delves into conversation. he takes a sip, nodding along to whatever it is that is being muttered in his ear. 

he looks up for a second, his eyes scanning around for something. he’s careful not to attract attention to this fact, but you see him scan the entire room, the different floors, his eyes squinting as he tries to narrow his vision. he looks around for a couple more seconds, looking and looking until he finds you. 

a brief and quick smile takes over his face when he finally sees your face, your own lips tugging upwards as you give him a small wave. his eyes fall to the man besides you, his smile falling as well, and toji grunts. 

“are you familiar with the prince?” he asks, obviously catching this, and you gnaw on your lips in apprehension, confusion. 

“barely,” you mutter, not giving him too many details, watching as gojo looks away just as quickly, as if he had never seen you and you swallow thickly, wondering what brought on his sudden change in emotions. 

or why he even looked for you in the first place. 

“barely doesn’t warrant the prince looking for you,” toji whispers in your ear, “‘think you know him a little better than you give yourself credit for.” 

—

after the ball, gojo didn’t speak much to you when the two of you were back in his chambers.

he tended to get tired out by the end of balls, but you found yourself lonely without the endless stories he came to you with, the way he’d relive some of the events just as he was going to bed so that he wouldn’t forget them in the morning. 

but he was strangely quiet right now, didn’t say anything as you helped him shrug off his coat, hanging it up in his closet as you bite your cheek, feeling some odd tension radiate off of him, something you’ve never felt before. 

“did you enjoy the ball?” you asked, standing near his bed as he shuffles around, kicking off his boots as he scrunches his nose in distaste. 

“it was like any other,” he says plainly, yanking his tie off as you grab it from his wordlessly, folding it up so that it wouldn’t crease.

“did you like dancing with miss ahura?” you don’t know what’s going on, why he seems so rigid, “she looked beautiful, did she not?” 

he shrugs passively, not answering as he rummages around his drawers, dropping down his cufflinks in a pile with the rest of his gold ones, not knowing that a single pair of them would most likely feed you for a year.

“would you like a midnight snack? i saved some truffles for you,” you dig into your pockets, bringing some out that you had snagged from the desserts table and had wrapped in a napkin, something akin to what he used to bring you all those years ago, waiting eagerly all night to show him, “these even have some gold on them, i’ve never seen-” 

“i have chefs at my disposal,” he mutters as he unbuttons his shirt, “i don’t need truffles covered in lint.” 

your smile fell at the bite in his voice, the way it seemed to grip it’s claws around your lungs, squeezing the air out of them. you silently pocket the napkin.

“of course…i apologize,” there's a bitter taste in the back of your throat, catching his eyes momentarily. you see the way they shift, how his mouth parts open, and then he shuts them again. 

you can feel his stare as you shove your other hand back into your other dress pocket, this one with a miniature tart that you had so carefully tried to preserve throughout the evening from breaking, and feel a heavy weight settle on your chest. 

“i have your bath ready,” you point to the bathroom, ducking your head down as you bow, “i will see you in the morning, your highness.” 

you left  quickly, feeling foolish as you trekked down the stairs to your own room, feeling your heart slow down as you shut your door, shedding off the wretched costume that had you feeling as if you were something worthwhile for once. 

—-

for a while after that night, the two of you share brief conversations, sentences kept to a minimum as you bring back the cordiality that you had begun to shed off for a while. if he noticed it, he didn’t comment on it. after some days passed, and days turned into a week and a half, he barely even looked at you, and you took it as a sign that he had tired out of the small friendship and was looking elsewhere for momentary entertainment.  

tonight, you found yourself standing in the corner of his office, eyes darting around as you waited in heavy silence as his quill scratched on the parchment beneath him, dipping it in ink every now and then as he mumbled unintelligible words under his breath. 

his head rests in his hands, throwing his head back in frustration at whatever it is the document is telling him. 

his head falls down, his eyes slowly opening as he looks up at you. 

your brow raised slightly in questioning. 

“i need you,” he says, eyes widening slightly at his slip up, “i-i need your help.” he clears his throat harshly.  

he ushers to the papers in front of him, and you inhale deeply, making your way from the corner that you’ve hidden yourself in as you cross the room, your steps careful as you round to his table, standing at the edge as you stay quiet. 

“here,” he bites out, “come here.” he needs you next to him, and you have to control the urge to roll your eyes as you move, shuffling so that you were standing near his chair, looking down at the piece of paper that he’s been mulling over for the better half of an hour. 

you look at it, mouth parting open as your brows scrunch up as you focus, trying to ignore the way his eyes were burning into the side of your face. 

“i don’t understand, your highness,” you finally say, leaning away from him, “what am i supposed to be looking at?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling as he sets the paper down, leaning back in the chair. 

“it’s a letter of inheritance, who gets what after the father dies,” he explains, “but the signatures don’t match up. does it seem forged to you?” 

you look again, looking at the two signatures laid next to each other, the way the letters curved, which ones swooped, tilting your head, trying to see it from a different angle. the more you looked at it, the more disingenuous the signatures seemed. 

“they might be,” you briefly look at him, his stare burning if you look too long, “but i’m not sure, your highness.”

his face hardens for a second, and you move away, going back to the end of the table as you bow, taking your leave to the back of the room until he speaks again. you pause, looking over your shoulder to him. 

“care to look again? i have a feeling that you have a knack for schemes.” his lips are pulled back in a smile that doesn't meet his eyes, miles away from the usual smile you see from him, and if not for the benign expression, his words surely made you stumble. 

“excuse me?” you bite back quickly, your nose flaring as he scoffs, shaking his head as if he expected this reaction. 

“you’re shameless with it, aren’t you?” he’s alluding to something, and it’s driving you crazy. all the stares you’ve shared this past week, the silent exchange of aggravated words that grow only in size the more the two of you simmer. even when you were young, your arguments were resolved quickly.

“with what?” you snap, the accusations he’s throwing at you with no reasoning swarming your mind, clouding your judgment, your way of carrying yourself as you throw all etiquette out the window. 

“i can only wonder what ploys fushiguro played out for you, but i wonder even more which ones tempted you the most?” 

your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you make a sound in the back of your throat, one of shock, one of clear surprise. was all of his unspoken anger because of…him? the man you met during the ball? surely it can’t be. 

you gape, the candle flickering away in the same beats your heart was going at, illuminating his stone cold face as he stands up from his chair, moving slowly to where you were. you try to stand tall, but you can’t match up to his height.

“you,” your jaw clenches, eyes searching his to see if he was joking, “you’ve been treating me like i’m, i’m,” you stutter, your chest constricting, “the shit you wipe off your shoe because you think i’m scheming with s-some man i met for the first time?” 

his expression flickers for a second, as if suddenly realizing what he was saying.

“as if you don’t know who he is,” he collects himself, a sneer making its way on his face, “as if you don’t know what they’ve done to us-” 

“i don’t!” you cut him off, a shocked laugh escaping your lips, “i don’t know who he is! i just thought he was being friendly!” 

gojo pauses, his eyes searching yours for any traces of lies

“come on,” he scoffs, “you know how the zenin family-”

“who, who’s the zenin family?” you exclaim, watching in real time as the facade and things he’s been convincing himself of aren’t true. 

“the,” he stutters, his face scrunching up in confusion, “the zenin…? how do you not know…?”

“because i’m a maid!” you shout, not caring if others behind the door could hear you yelling at their prince, “because i’ve spent my entire life working here! i keep my head down and i do what i’m told, a-and i keep to myself. forgive me for not knowing about your royal affairs, your highness!” 

he’s rendered silent, lips pulled into a thin line. 

“but you only care about yourself, right? the sacred prince who had everything given to him his entire life,” you continue, feeling your own pent up frustrations spewing out. you know that you’re going to lose everything after this anyways, so you don’t care about the repercussions now. you can’t bring it in yourself to care.

“you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with some unidentifiable emotion as you roll your eyes. 

“i don’t? tell me, do you even remember me?” you hate that you’re losing touch of sensibility and making it personal, personal about your own feelings and how your mind can’t wrap around the fact that he simply forgot who you were or how much he affected you, “or are your cares about the people who work for you so fleeting that you barely know our names? is my replacement coming in a week, two weeks?”

“stop,” he bites out, his eyes dark, a storming brewing on the endless sea they offer, “you don’t know-” 

“what i’m taking about…right?” you finish for him, “because i’m just the simple maid who you took in as your toy because you wanted to poke and prod around at her and see if she cries again? see if you could fix something for once-” 

“stop,” his voice is different, and your hairs stand up because it’s not his. it’s lower in pitch, deep, commanding. you shut your mouth, fingers flying upwards, but it’s too late, you’ve said too much, and there’s no going back. this is it, you’ve finally sealed your fate. 

his head falls down for a second, licking his lips as he looks at you with a look that freezes your blood. it’s not like him, and you know that this was it. 

“get out,” he mutters. 

“i…” you take a step back.

“get out,” his voice is thick, nostrils flaring, cheeks red with underlying emotions that are threatening to leave, “get out and never come back.” 

your eyes shine with tears, tears that you refuse to shed, tears that you don’t know are for what, but you nod once, your lips trembling as you bow down to him, your last shred of respect, and turn for the door, shutting it as you run down the corridor, run for the only thing you think can save you in the moment, and don’t look back. 

—

the wind is biting and unforgiving on your skin as you ride through the night. 

you lean forward on the horse, hoping it can go faster as it sprints through the open field, your eyes watering as you shout for it to go. 

you packed what you could, wrote your note to lydia and escaped through the stables, glad  to know that louis was guarding the horses tonight, glad to know that he often drank himself to sleep. 

you knew you were in too deep. you had crossed the crown prince, your ending surely wasn’t going to be good. and so call it what you will, cowardice, fear, survival, or just something you seem to have down to your roots, but you fled. you took a horse and went as far as you could, looking over your shoulder every other minute to see if anybody was running after you. 

they would at some time realize that one of their horses was missing, as well as the prince's personal maid, and easily connect the dots. 

it was late, and you were glad that the night was offering you the darkness and protection you needed. you could hear thunder rumbling a distance away, the clouds looking even more irate than they usually do. rain, you noted, even more protection that you desperately needed.

“please,” you plead, with what you don’t know, “please, hurry.” 

the horse, as if understanding you, seems to pick up its pace, going even faster than before. your cheeks are freezing, your hands going numb from both the cold but from holding onto the reins with all your might, and the sad excuse of a cloak you have on for both warmth and concealing your face, does nothing for its intended purposes. it’s flimsy and the hood is swept by the wind, and you sniffle, tears wetting your chin as you try to compose yourself for just a bit more. 

you feel an ounce of joy when you see the yellow twinge of lights from the valley below, the small town that you once used to live in coming more into focus, and feel some sense of happiness. you would camp there for the night and leave at dawn, going east, north, anywhere away from here. 

or at least that was your plan until you hear the thump of hooves from behind you. 

your heart drops, head whipping around as you see another horse coming in from behind you. you can’t see the rider, but you suspect more are behind them. they’re shouting something, but with the wind roaring in your ears you can’t hear anything. you turn around, whipping the reins again, leaning even more forward as let out a sound of desperation. 

it’s a race to survive now, something that you won't do if you lose it, and you feel your body turning into ice, everything is going too fast. 

the rider behind you is gaining speed, and you know it’s only a matter of time before they finally catch up to you. in a split moment you try to evade them, twisting the reins of your horse in one direction, not seeing the bush that was in front of you. 

in another moment you’re up in the air, losing all of your feelings as you're thrown down with a harsh thud. 

in the next moment, things going to black, your lids flickering as you try to stay awake, one of the last things you see being the blurry face of the rider,

and those eyes that you think about every night. 

—

the next time you open your eyes it’s to a bright light. 

you ground, rubbing at your face as your mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, your head ringing as you attempt to sit up, only to feel strong hands gently pushing you down. 

there’s a voice, somebody speaking, but it’s all mushy in your brain, words melting together as you shake your head, trying to get the blinding light away from you. the voice grows a little bit closer, a little more clearer, and after a couple of seconds you’re able to make out what the person is saying.

“please rest, i’ll get the doctor,” the voice is familiar, and you reach out with slow fingers, trying to grab onto something, anything.

“n-no,” you murmur, your voice slurring, “no doctor.” 

“you need a doctor,” the voice says firmly, “wait here.”

“no,” you say again, a little stronger, and the person stops moving, “s-stay…please,”

your fingers reach out, trying to latch onto a piece of their clothing, and instead find their hand. it’s warm, soft, and it quickly closes around your cold one, trying to warm it up. 

you know this hand, know this voice. 

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and wonder if your voice is even something that can be heard by the human ear with the way it sounds foreign even to you, “i’m, i’m sorry about everything. about what i said.”

his hold on your hand grows tighter, his thumb moving up and down on the back of it in a soothing back as his other hands run across your forehead. 

“no,” he simply says, “you don’t-”

“but i said-” 

“everything that should’ve been said,” gojo finishes quickly, “but i need to go get you a doctor, check if you don’t have a concussion or worse. he checked for…other things,” he swallows thickly, not able to say what terrible words the town physician told him when they brought you into the small inn, the words that turned his skin transparent and nearly ripped the heart right out his chest, “see if you’re doing okay.”

“i don’t have a concussion,” you tell him him, finally able to blink without shooting lights and on your final squint you finally see him, sitting right next to you, his hair disheveled and face clammy, “i’ve had concussions and this isn’t a concussion.” 

his brows furrow but you wave it off, sitting up so that you could rest on the head board behind you, not letting go of his hands. you’re not even sure he would let you if you wanted to, with the way he was grasping on as if his life depended on it. 

you groggily rub at your face, glad that the thumping in your head is dying down, gracefully accepting the glass of water he offers you. you chug it down, feeling the droplets wet the chemise you’re wearing, but can’t find it in you to care.

you look around the room, wondering if you might actually have a concussion because you’ve never been here before, and it certainly doesn’t look like it’s part of the palace. 

“we’re at an inn,” he explains as if reading your mind, “it’s the closest place i could find.” 

you nod wordlessly, looking away from him because it feels raw, the emotions, the events from before, everything. 

he senses your disposition and his hold on your hand loosens for a brief, flickering second. you hate the feeling. 

“i shouldn’t have assumed,” he whispers, your eyes still focused on the patterns on the bed sheet, not knowing what would happen if you looked at him, “i shouldn’t have thought any of it. i just saw you and saw him and…it got in my head. it got a hold of me and for that, i’m sorry.” 

your fingers curl into his hand. 

“but, i, um,” he stammered, stuttering the way he used to when he was a little boy, something they surely worked on seeing how it rarely came out anymore, “i wanted you to know that i do remember.” 

your head snaps up, the bed creaking at your sudden movement, your mouth slightly open in surprise. 

“what?” your question is breathless, akin to the boyish, nervous, and small smile on his face. just like he used to smile when you chased him up a tree, telling him to get down or else you’d be in big trouble as if he were your responsibility.

“you used to wear a uniform that was so huge, you’d trip whenever you’d walk. you loved the fruit pies i’d bring, but you hated the ones with the pine nuts. you’d always call me ‘toru because you couldn’t say your s’s properly and you made me a doll with some fabric you found around the rooms.” 

his thumb rubs on your pulse point, a melancholy smile on his face. 

“you named him fru-fru,” your voice is barely above a murmur, “and you kept him on your-” 

“nightstand,” he nods, “but i had to move him to my study because he was getting too fragile, i couldn’t move him too much.”

you wipe at your cheeks, sniffing as you feel a strange warmth fill your chest, filling an emptiness you didn’t know was there. his eyes shimmer, wet with tears threatening to spill, and for the first time since you met him that night, you feel like you’ve never been closer to somebody than you are now, souls interlinked together, twisting and turned as they grew with time. 

all the emotions you’ve been latching onto or forcing down are coming up at once and you feel overwhelmed, not knowing how to handle them together. 

“why…why did you act like you didn't know me?” you finally ask, wiping at your chin with the palm of your hand as you sniffle, “why are you telling me all this now?” 

“because all this time i thought you had grown to hate me,” he mutters, “you just stopped speaking to me one day and no matter what i tried to do you never responded. i sent you letters and i visited your quarters and i even went to that scary lady,” you laugh wetly, knowing that he was referring to your old head-maid, the one that terrified him as a kid, “but they all acted as if you had forgotten about me. at some point i convinced myself that you left but when i saw you running across that field i just knew, i knew it was you.” 

you shake your head, the tears coming on even harder. all those years when you had to act passive, act as if you didn't know him just so that you wouldn’t lose or jeopardize your position or life, pretending that the one friend that made your days that much brighter was a passing thought to you. 

he leans in a bit, wiping at your cheeks gently with his thumb as you lean into his hand, watching as you quickly wipes at his own reddened cheeks, brows scrunching up together as you whimper.

“they f-found out,” you choke, “about us. and they knew who i w-was and who my mom was and they told me to never speak to you again,” your words come out broken, “and i left little piece of my clothes outside your door at night, ones with drawings or things i thought you’d know but every morning they would be gone. i,” you cry, your voice sputtering as you crawl closer to him, into his open arms, “i could never forget you,” your voice cracks, muffled by his chest, “you were the only f-friend i had,” he pulls you in tighter, his arms around you encaging you in a warmth that you so desperately needed. his chin rests atop your head, and you can see the way he struggles to get his own breaths out, the tears that he struggles to hide. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, begs, holding onto the last scrap of composure he had left, hating hearing your cries or seeing your tears, “please, please don’t cry,” he pulls himself away from you slightly to look at your face, to dry your cheeks as you hiccup, “you’re killing me tonight, you know that right?” 

you try to laugh though it comes off as a snort, savoring the way his fingers trace your face, your cheeks, your jaw, your nose, the corners of your eyes, trying to savor every bit of you as if they’ve been starved for an eternity. 

“tried to run after you after what i said…” he can’t find it in himself to repeat his wretched words, “only to find you gone. you have no idea how much of a mad man i was, ordering everybody to turn each stone inside out until they found you. then that stupid stable boy kept yelling out that a horse was gone and i thought surely you wouldn’t be foolish enough to run away, ‘specially not when a storm was coming but…”

“i ran away when a storm was coming,” you finish for him with a quiet chuckle, feeling your body heating up at the way he broke into an instant smile when he heard the sound. if only you knew the things he’d do to hear it again, to see you happy would be his three wishes if he was ever asked.

“and you were going fast,” he traces your cheekbone, his words filling the large and empty room, “so, so fast. and when you fell?” he takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his chest, setting it on his heart as you feel it thumping quickly underneath your palm, “was about to take you to the doctor and tell him to give you this,” his fingers curl above yours, his forehead resting on yours, your noses breaths away from each other, “it didn’t matter to me anymore, it doesn’t work right without you.”

you feel lightheaded like you need him more than you need oxygen, your eyes falling onto his lips, not knowing that he was mirroring your exact same motions, the two of you working in tandem like a machine and its little bolts, not working without the other. 

“would it perhaps be because you can’t live without the chocolates i sneak in for you?” you try to joke but it falls flat in your head, but he still huffs out a laugh, nose nudging yours as you lean in impossibly closer.

“perhaps,” he answers, his face lit by the single candle behind the two of you, “but it could also perhaps be because i love you so fucking much.” 

and you whine, tired of waiting, moving the single bit you needed to connect your lips together and fall forward on his lap, your hands shooting up to his shoulders to use as much needed stability. 

he groans, a sound from the back of his throat, from deep within him, his hands moving up to hold onto your waist as you move into him, kissing him with such fervor that you felt like you were going to die without feeling his lips on you.

it was so messy, the way your teeth clash against and noses bumped against each other, but it was what you so desperately needed. he was moving fast, his lips kissing against the corners of your mouth, down you chin as they found your neck, his smile growing as you throw your head back, fingering digging into his white strands as you tried to pull him in even closer. 

you let out breathless sounds, sounds that you never knew you could make, but it seems to spur him on, planting wet and sloppy kisses on the column of your neck as she sucked, marking you up so that later people would know that you were his and his alone. 

“gojo, i,” your eyes screw shut at the feeling of him, “feels so good,” you say breathlessly, moving closer up on his lap, feeling his hands tug at the flimsy chemise you have on, fingers slowly tugging it down, giving you time to push him off if you wanted to. 

he looks up at you, his eyes needy, desperate, just as yours, and you nod, needing him to not stop. 

he continues, pulling it down so that you're bare before him, nipples pebbling in the cold air as you go to cover up, suddenly realizing just what is happening, feeling shy, never like this in front of anyone before. 

“we can stop,” he muttered against your lips, pressing a small peck to them, “we don’t have to do this now, we have all the time in the world,” he teases as he tugs your chemise up but you grab his wrist, stopping him as you shake your head. 

“no,” you tug it down a little bit, “i’ve just,” you take in a deep breath, “just never done this before.”

he chuckles, eyes flashing darkly for just a quick second as he kisses along your jaw, leaving your skin shining in the limited light.

“good,” he murmurs, “‘cause i think i’d have to exercise my grandfather's way of handling people if somebody else saw you like this.” you laugh shortly, tugging sharply on some of his hairs as he looks up at you, eyes full of devotion that you’ve only dreamed about. 

“beheading people for just seeing my tits?” you’re more crass than he is in some places, a sign of the different language you’ve heard growing up in the circumstances you’ve had, but he doesn’t care, likes it in fact. 

“i’d burn down villages if anyone saw these,” he cups them in his hands, thumb flickering over your nipples as you suddenly arch into him, head falling back, “you’re so perfect,” he whispers into your skin, his lips hovering on the slope of your breasts as he takes time to admire your chest, “so beautiful,” you would’ve smacked him if not for the way he took one in his mouth, leaving you no time to think of anything else as a moan escapes your lips, the first of its kind.

“damn you gojo,” you moan, hearing his chuckle vibrate through your tits as his sucks on your nipple, tugging it with your teeth as you feel your stomach heat up, growing more and more wet as you buck up on his thigh, “you t-talk too much,” you shudder, eyes rolling back when he presses his flat tongue on your areola, his other hand massaging your other tit until he switches, leaving it glistening his his spit.

“yeah? then where do you want this mouth, hm?” he looks up at you with his eager eyes, just wanting to please you, and you feel like you’re becoming an addict, your cunt growing more and more wet as riding his thigh proves to not satiate the hunger. 

“d-down,” you can’t think clearly, “please, need you so bad.” 

“where?” he plays with you, pressing his hand against your stomach, “here?” 

you shake your head, feeling needy and not in the mood to play around, not knowing where your sudden surge in confidence was coming from as you grab his wrist, leading it down to your cunt as you hide your face in his neck, whining. 

“h-here, ‘toru, need you here,” he throws his head back, a sound coming from somewhere in his chest as his name falls from your glossy with spit lips, tugging the ends of your chemise up to your stomach as he stares at your bare pussy. 

he pushes you back gently to lie on the bed, nestling between your legs as he savors the sight.

you cover your face with your hands, hearing him laugh at your expense, keeping your thighs spread wide open with his hands as he presses tantalizing kisses on the insides of them, each one closer and closer to the unbearable heat. 

“wait,” you mutter, confused as to what he was doing, watching the way he snapped up, worried eyes finding your confused ones, following your stare down to his growing bulge. 

“i thought…?” all the stories lydia would tell you didn’t start this way, usually beginning his the man pulling his dick out and being done in a couple of minutes, “do you not…?” 

satoru breathes easy, laughing as he shakes his head, resting on his haunches as his palm rubs against your soft thighs. he looks so pretty like this, with his hair going haywire, some of it in his face, some of it messily pushed back. there’s a pink flush to hit face, his lips plump and shinning with spit. 

“trust me, you have no idea how bad i want to feel you,” his eyes are so dark that you wonder if they’re even blue, “but i’m not going to do it in your condition. i don’t want to hurt you any more-” 

“but,” you whine but he shakes his head, pinching your soft skin as you wince, hitting him with your knee as he rolls his eyes. 

“i promise you’re going to like this,” he rubs softly against where he pinched you, smoothing the skin over, “do you trust me?”

“yes,” you mutter, watching as he breaks into a smile, “better not disappoint me though.”

“fuck, you’re such a minx,” he groans, spreading your lips open with his pointer finger, his dick aching at the sight of the string of arousal that connects them together, at the clear shine and wetness from just how much you needed him, “you’re actually going to be the death of me.”

“then hurry u-up ‘toru,” you say, “don’t die on me now,” your fingers were cutely curling in his hair, and he’d be an insane lunatic if he made you beg any more than you have, diving in as if you were actually his last meal before he died. 

your mouth falls open in a silent scream, the feeling unlike anything. he sucked on your clit, moving up and down from your cunt, wanting to taste your saccharine wetness on his tongue to back up. he was so messy, so loud, and you felt like you were going to overheat, felt like everything was fogging your vision. 

it felt so good. too good. his tongue dived in and out of you in a way that had you gripping his hand and the sheets under you, your leg around around his shoulders as you bucked into his open mouth, your wetness smearing all of his lips and chin as he ate you like a man starved for years. 

“o-oh my god,” you mewl out, eyes rolling back as you felt one of his long, swift fingers slowly pushing into you, his lips still sucking on your clit as you felt like you were actually entering heaven. 

“not god,” his voice is muffled, “just ‘toru.” you would have laughed if you could, your smile instantly dropping when his finger pumps in and out.

your toes curl, leg around his shoulder pulling him in closer if that was even possible. if he were to die right now he’d had the giddiest smile on his face, happy to have you dancing around on his tongue. 

everything about this was shameless and you wondered if all your good deeds were finally catching up to you. 

you don’t even care if the people sleeping next to you, above you, under you, or even at this inn could hear you, because when he put in his middle finger you screamed, back arching off the bed. 

“so good, fuck, ‘toru, i,” you could even form a complete sentence, “feel so good,”

“yeah?” you nod feverishly, “fuck, you taste amazing, love this so much, love you so much,” he’s babbling with his words too, his nose sometimes accidentally rubbing against your clit, bringing you all the much more pleasure.

sometimes when you look down to see him you moan helplessly, your chest heaving at the way he’d rut mindlessly into the bed, his dick hard and swollen and achy from eating you out, about the burst from just your scent alone. 

your stomach tightens and you feel an unfamiliar thing deep in the pit of your body, growing taut with each swipe, each like, each kiss he would give you. it made your moans more breathy, your words less understandable, and you felt like you were slowly going to go insane, losing all sense of reality. 

“‘toru, i, i don’t know,” you’re sputtering, nails raking into his hair, your free hand grabbing onto your tits, the bed sheet, his shoulders, anything to help you ground you back down to earth, “i feel, f-fuck, oh my god, i,” 

“you got this sweetheart,” he encouraged you, his words honeyed, “come on, let go for me, you can do it,” his thumb which had found its way to your clit was speeding up, his tongue and fingers taking turns as they pounded into you. 

you felt that rope getting together and tiger, about to snap at any moment as you whined, tears escaping from the corners of your eyes as your lips huffed out puffs of air. 

“i, f-fuck, i’m ‘gonna, oh…” you whine out loud, the line snapping, your orgasm crashing through you as your mouth falls slack. 

it was mind numbing, the way everything went white, the way you tightened around his fingers which were slowing down. you creamed around him, leaving his skin shiny with your release, your pussy still pulsing seconds after as you try to catch your breath, still seeing white behind your lids as your tits move up and down with each haggard breath. 

he presses on last kiss to your fluttering clit, hands massaging your quivering thighs as you slowly yet surely come back down to reality, each second passing bringing you back down with him. 

“good?” he teases, his smile coy as you cover your eyes with one arm, lightly pushing him with the other. 

“fine,” you mutter, peeking over to see him positively glowing, a stupidly large smile on his face when he sees you finally looking at him, pressing the fattest kiss to your lips as you squeal, eyes fluttering for a second as you taste yourself on him, parting your lips mindlessly to let his tongue slither in.

you whined against his lips, fingers curling around the collar of his open tunic, pulling him closer to your naked body, feeling your tits press up against his chest, everything so perfect that you wondered if you were dreaming. 

“wait,” he muttered, pulling away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together as you sit uop a little, you brows scrunched in confusion as you watch him sit up from the bed, walking over to the vanity as he rumages around the drawers for something. 

he pulls out a small cloth, holding it up in victory as he grins, walking over to your nightstand as he wets it with soem water, crawling back into bed as he settles back in the middle of your thighs, gently pulling them apart as he starts cleaning you. 

it’s all so intimate and so loving. you feel like melting watching his focused gaze, careful to be soft and slow, knowing that you’re a little stretched out, and pat it as best he could, cleaning around your thighs as well, throwing the cloth to the side as he climbs back up to you, pressing a loving kiss to your temple. 

you shrug the rest of the chemise off, riddled with your essence and sweat, and pull the covers up, feeling the sudden chill now that satoru’s no longer eating you out like both your lives depended on it, and a silence falls over the room. 

“is this a bad time to tell you about my horse laundering scheme with fushiguro?” you ask, your eyes shining mischievously as satoru whines, hiding his face in your chest as he pulls you closer to his body. 

“you’re so evil,” he says against your skin. 

you laugh, the sound going straight to his heart, his smile hidden. 

but you fall silent and when you don’t speak he looks up, his eyes searching yours. 

“what now?” you whisper, your fingers carding through his hair, feeling its softness, “i don’t…” you trail off, biting your lip as every other emotion that you had tucked away comes crawling back. 

his finger finds its way to the middle of your browning, easing the crease that was forming. 

“now you become my wife…if you would like to, of course…” 

you search his eyes to see if he’s joking, but you only see honest sincerity in that sea of blue, his cheeks pink as he blushed. 

“really?” you can barely say it without a giddy smile making its way on your face, one that he glows brightly at. if only he could bottle it, save it for when the universe collapsed and was in need of light. 

“really,” he promises, holding you tightly to him, not wanting to ever let you go again, needing you next to him so that he could make sure his heart was working, to make sure that he was actually alive and that this wasn’t all a dream. 

“i’ve loved you since the moment i saw you, ‘toru,” you whisper, nodding off to sleep as a yawn escapes your mouth. 

“is that because i used to try to swoon you with food?” he whispers, his drowsy eyes finding yours as you sleepily giggle, kissing the tip of his nose as you curl into his heat, a smile on your face when you say the last words before you finally head off into sleep. 

“perhaps.”

[screampied]

NO NUT NOVEMBER ☆ JJK MEN

gojo, nanami, toji, getō, choso, jujutsu kaisen men & how long can they last during nnn

2.7k+ ☆ total wc ☆

☆ tags ☆ afab!reader. overstim , edging , dry humping , unprotected sex , oral [f] , orgasm-denial , semi-public sex , dirty talk , choking , dumbification kink, brat taming.

FAILED NOV. 1 ☆ GOJO SATORU

poor gojo fails on the first day immediately. he's so cocky once you suggest you two should try it—see which one breaks first and it's obviously gojo. you walking around in a sundress was just about enough for him to forget about the entire challenge.

“you really don’t think i’ll last for the entire month?” gojo says, and he’s just following you around. it’s november first and he’s already losing it. the pretty sundress that hung down you, practically and barely reaching your ass made him ten times hornier. “pft. please. i can last the whole month without—” and then he stops mid-sentence at the realization, and his lip quivers a bit whilst he’s rubbing himself against you from behind. “…can't i at least.. touch you, baby?”

“no,” you spoke, letting off a gasp once he bends you straight over the kitchen counter. all it took was for gojo to pull up your sundress a few inches towards your waist, and he nearly lets off a needy moan once he sees you’re wearing no panties. “you can last a month satoru. it's not that long.”

“hey ‘s not fuckin' fair,” he groans, and he’s so close propped up against you. his bulge hardens against you, he’s only wearing simple grey sweats and he slides his hands against your waist. “planned this all out, d-didn’t you,” and he lets off a low breathy sigh. “there's no rule sayin' i can’t bend ya over like this,” he speaks, his voice sounding whiner by the second—you gasp once he squeezes your ass, feeling his thumb brush against your slit. “is there, baby?”

gojo couldn't help himself. once he had you bent over, you now found yourself in mating press with him being pumped full over and over again. a day hasn’t even passed and he already lost—to be fair, in his defense it was your fault for walking around in a pretty short sundress that nearly showed the bottom parts of your ass.

“s-so nice ‘n warm f’me.” he’d pant again and again, having you in quite the position to where you’re laid flat on your back, his own cum is so much it’s oozing out of your pussy. your grip onto his wrist tightens as he dips his hips in and out, you’re moaning from his thrusts—already forgetting about the stupid dumb challenge you suggested for you and your boyfriend to participate in.

to think of going one month without being intimate with gojo.

“s-satoru,” you moaned, and his base just smacks just smacks and smacks against you. you're so dizzy, craving more of his sticky load by the second, desperately wanting to be even more full. it was such a mess between your legs. he’s panting and staring at you with that same hungry feral gaze, swiping a tongue across his sheeny lips—gojo leans in to kiss you hard, yet more so passionate. he’s moaning and whining into your mouth while preparing to cum again and he’s so sensitive. he can barely think straight. “m-mhm.”

your body is basically being fucked dumb into the fats of the silkened mattress. gojo’s weight hovers against yours as his cock thrusts in and out, giving you whiplash so good to where it has you digging your pretty nails into the pale roots of his arm.

“not finished with you,” he pants, his eye-lids were low, and he was still panting up a storm once he pulls out for a brief moment. gojo stares down at the mess he create—licking his lips once more before leaning down to briefly lick a little of his own cum from your thighs before letting off a sigh. “we… can try again next year, y-yeah?”

FAILED NOV. 3 ☆ CHOSO KAMO

choso would have honestly failed on the first day too, but he has a bit more self control which is surprising. he's a very needy man not to mention quite clingy too. three days felt so long for the poor guy though. three days without cumming inside—he'd go mad. so he had to improvise.

“just a taste princess, just a…taste,” he’d pant, staring at you with such intent. you’re just lying down on the bed, glancing back up at him while rubbing a hand over your tummy before smiling. “don’t look at me like that.”

“choso it’s only been three days,” you giggle, reaching for his hand and he was so warm—he lets off a soft moan just from your touch alone, so touch starved and it hasn’t even been that long.

a big baby.

but eventually, he was so cute and you gave in. choso didn’t even want to fuck you. all he wanted to do was please you, more than please himself. but he does end up pleasing himself just a tad bit. you getting off gets him off if that makes sense. the raven-haired man was propped securely between your legs, his tongue latched onto your sweet cunt, lapping it up continuously while his moans fanned against you—making you create out tiny whines and moans yourself.

“s-so good, so hungry,” he whines, and choso can’t help but reach into his black and white boxers, stroking himself. he couldn’t help it, just hearing your sweet noises was enough to make him cum right through his sweatpants. “drivin’ me s-so insane.”

“fuck choso,” you whimper, some long strands of his hair tickles and brushes against your thighs, he’s so sloppy too. making sure to spit on your pussy only to clean it up. choso wasn’t never fond of his pretty baby to be messy. he’s so into it, his lashes remained closed as he ate you out, continuing to stroke his dick—moaning right into your folds, eventually your slick drips down his chin and he’s craving more and more. “don’t stop, your tongue feels so g-good, baby.”

“praise me more,” he whines, giving you a brief stare, his eyes opens for a second and his eyebrows raise down and furrow. a cute saddened expression of how wanting and needy he was. “want you to tell me how good ‘m makin’ you feel, gorgeous.”

you’re panting heavily from his tongue and how deep it reaches, each suck and slurp he creates before you dig your fingers through his hair to make him maintain eye contact. “you’re so good, choso. you’re making me feel so good.”

“….oh, s’ all i want, pretty,” he sighs, giving the front part of your pussy a sweet kiss before dragging a single orgasm out of you.

FAILED NOV. 9 ☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI

you make toji fail because you’re just…horny. toji believe it or not, toji could last a few days of nnn despite being an actual walking sex-machine. it was your idea, but now you regret it. it makes his ego boost tremendously seeing how you couldn’t take it anymore, such a cock hungry girl.

“toji!” you’d pout, desperate for him to at least touch you at least—but no, he was busy occupying himself by working out. raising the hefty bench pressed up and down, he looked so good. and he was just ignoring you. a smirk lightly pressed against his lips as he lifts the gym equipment up and down, counting his sets in his head and you bit your lip.

you had to do something, you couldn’t wait. it’s been nine days, you were sitting on toji’s lap. specifically, his hard bulge that was poking through his grey gym shorts. “yes baby,” he speaks, acting as if you weren’t squirming on his lap, so desperate to get him off.

“i need you,” was the only pathetic words leaving your lips, and he watches as you slide your hands up his white tank tee, brushing your fingertips against his abdomen—his rock hard abs just flexing, a bit sweaty and you nearly moaned. “so bad. sosobad. fuck me please. ‘s was a stupid idea.”

“tch. ‘bout damn time. and ya said i’d break first,” he chuckles, setting the black dumbbells aside to their original position. “mm. at least y’er aware. now now, be a good girl ‘n take those filthy panties off f’me.”

you whined, thankful you wore a skirt so all you had to was really slip your panties off—you stare down at toji as you’re riding him and he’s still laid flat on his back on the gym bench. at least it wasn’t many people around but they’d still probably see you. but from anyone’s perspective, it’d look like a silly girl on her boyfriend’s lap for whatever reason.

“s-shit,” you moaned, feeling his cock expand deep just from his girth alone. it was so good, it nearly had you drooling. toji’s fat dick was something you could never get enough of. it stretched you out so good—it was indescribable to say how great it made you feel, your pussy yearned for more each time, your mouth grows dry as you grind your hips against him. and he’s just staring at you with his toned arms are just smugly pinned behind his back, watching you have the time of your life. “s’big toji. fuck.”

“ya know how to take it every time though, doll,” he grunts, bringing a hand towards your waist to somewhat guide your movements. you whimper once he brings a hard smack to your ass once he feels you start to slow down, he’s so big, his tip kisses against deep inside of your pussy and you’re so dizzy, you can’t even speak words. “fuckin’ whore-” he groans, and you end up making toji cum quicker than he thought he would—it shoots right inside you, his head goes back for about two seconds and it’s sexy, you can see his adams apple just briefly.

“better savor that shit,” he grumbles, watching you catch your breath yourself, and he brings two fingers and dips them inside your pussy before letting off a grunt. “should make ya lick my fingers clean. bet you’d like that, little slutty girl,” and he gives you a brief head pat while you’re pushed into his chest, panting over and over. “yeah ya fuckin’ would.”

FAILED NOV. 18 ☆ SUGURU GETŌ

geto could last long, but everything changed once you decided to tease him a bit too much. sending him videos of you touching yourself while he’s out at work or busy. he comes home to you—and he just can’t take it anymore.

geto’s breath shakes once he holds his phone in one hand, seeing you on the screen—only in your bra and panties, sliding a hand up and down your body. his eyes trail and observe every inch, his mouth dry a bit, wishing you were with him right now. “suguru baby, you miss me?” you’d say in the video recording, dragging your fingertips further and further down until you eventually stopped at the very hem of your panties. “it’s been eighteen days since you last touched me.”

“yeah…” he pants, knowing you obviously can’t hear him, but he wished you could. so bad. “miss you so bad, princess. miss your pussy.”

“remember, you can’t touch yourself to me either. or cum until the month ends, okay? love you.” and the video clip ends. of course, he watches it at least seven more times—nearly cumming his pants just at the sound of your voice alone.

geto groans, feeling the bulge in his pants strain staggeringly get bigger and bigger. once he finally gets home, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

you were already waiting for him on the bed, with a sly smile—geto's quick to pick you up and kiss you all over, staring with your lips and your neck. “the tip, just the tip. swear. jus’ gotta feel you baby. feel your warmth.”

“fine,” you smile, already making your way onto him. geto tells you at least ten shaky thank you’s once you’re hovering over his cock—geto looks so pretty underneath you, his hair covers his face and he starts whining once you’re doing as promised, just the tip. “what’s wrong, do you want more than that?”

“yeah but baby, you’re gonna make me c-cum.” he moans, feeling you start to sink down lower until your hips rocks against him and he lets off a soft whimper by accident. “damn, just like that. ride me baby. make me cummm,” and his voice is so smooth but shaky, his dark pretty eyes nearly rolls back and it’s so sexy, he’s so sensitive he keeps swallowing and bracing himself before within seconds—geto ends up shooting white ropes inside, you feel his dick twitch as he’s still spasming, it’s been so long and his load is so much.

“shit.” he whines, leaning in to kiss you and he ends up moaning in your mouth once you return the kiss. “saved- saved s’much for you, baby,” he moans, grabbing ahold of your hips, making you continue to rock against him—only before he grips your waist, and starts to make you slam onto him and you whined, completely taken aback. “gotta remind this pussy who it really belongs to though.”

FAILED NOV. 30 ☆ NANAMI KENTO

nanami's the only one of the few who can actually go an entire month, although he just about barely makes it. he comes home from a long day at work and he’s just so pent up and stressed. all he can think about is using you as his personal cum dump.

“you don’t know how hard it was to not—” and he pauses, having you lied flat on your back, using a single hand to pry your pretty legs open. you shiver from feeling the cold band of his watch brush against your thighs. “woman, you torture me, you know that?”

you whimper from feeling him slowly sink himself inside—he’s staring down at you and his weight presses against your ass, he groans once he goes in and out, he’s teasing you. his cock was so thick, it stretches you out in every shape or form. your pussy hugs and grips him tightly, and he just can’t help himself. “kento, cum in me p-please,”

“thought you said i couldn’t cum until december first, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice, it’s almost seductive by the sounds of his pronunciation. nanami’s just sliding his tip in and out, it’s leaking with some of his own pre-cum, and he lets off a chuckle once he hears your cute whine of frustration. “this is your little game, i’m just playing by the rules.”

“didn’t mean it,” you cry out, so needy for him to fuck you. he was so warm, so so warm, your eyebrows parted together in annoyance and you bit your lip at him sinking a few inches inside your tight needy cunt before pulling out again. “kento please. fuck me, cum-cum in me, i need it.”

“oh, i know,” he breaths, and you gasp once you feel him spank your ass before rubbing it softly. nanami groans—swiping his fat reddened tip against your throbbing hole, spitting on his hand before rubbing it against your entrance to make you whimper, then spanks your pussy. “to think i haven’t touched this pretty body for a damn near month. you only ended up torturing yourself, sweetheart. can’t last a day without me filling this sloppy cunt up,” and as he’s talking, you’re growing more and more dizzy. you’re practically drooling from how needy you were.

and he dumbs his words down just a tad bit for you, his voice grows low once he leans up close to you purposely, wrapping a hand around your throat as his weight pressed against your ass. “tell me,” he whispers. “say the words and i’ll overflow your pussy with everything i have, pretty girl.”

“please kento, need your cum. need it so bad. fill me up please. breed me.”

“anything for my girl.” he kisses the top of your head, stroking a thumb against the middle part of your neck before stuffing two fingers of his into your mouth—he didn’t expect you to suck on them, but you did, whining and whining over and over again once he starts to thrust inside of you. he’s slow but his strokes are deep, and it’s so romantic. “that’s it, jus’ relax for me. let me claim these walls, then i’ll claim your heart next.”

[sttoru]

‘and if i only could, i’d make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. .’ — kate bush

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x wife!reader. fluff to angst (no comfort). spoilers chapter 261. reader’s pregnant. major character death. mentions of blood, death. nicknames ‘pretty, sweets’. not proofread bcs i couldn't through the tears. i cried nine times writing this so.. good luck! wc: 3.6k

“he’s kicking again,” satoru chuckles excitedly. he’s been clinging onto you ever since you got back from your doctor’s appointment. your baby boy is growing up healthy and there don’t seem to be any complications.

you smile and rest back against the velvety pillows. you’re enjoying the affection you’re receiving, the kisses and nuzzles against your swollen tummy makes every bit of suffering worth it. your husband is going to be an amazing dad, that you can tell.

“hey, little guy—don’t give ya mommy a tough time,” satoru huffs and gently taps the side of your stomach that was last kicked by the unborn baby, “that’s my wife, y’know?” you giggle at the scene in front of you and close your eyes, relaxing your body.

a comfortable silence hangs in the room. satoru’s warm hands cupping and rubbing your round stomach add to the tranquil atmosphere. the weight of your husband’s head presses onto the front of your plump belly—ear pressed against the stretched skin as if expecting to hear your baby boy talk.

after a while, you open your eyes. you hear a sniff and then the usual silence follows. you look down at satoru settled between your legs, hugging your waist and resting his cheek on your tummy. he’s awfully quiet and you’re unable to see his eyes because of his bangs.

“toru, everything okay?” you carefully ask. your voice comforts him for the next couple seconds, before his muscles tense up once more. satoru tries his best to seem unaffected by the many thoughts scurrying through his head.

“mhm,” your husband nods and forces a small smile. though, he can’t keep the facade up any longer. the longer you’re pregnant, the more worried he gets about a certain something; something that’s been bothering him ever since.

it’s the reason why he doubted even having kids in the first place.

“i—well. i don’t know, sweets,” satoru sighs. a deep sigh that shatters the mask he’s had on for so long. his brows furrow and his eyes dart from one place to the other. his fingers stop their movements on your stomach. they curl around the material of your shirt instead; showing a clear sense of vulnerability.

satoru seems. . . afraid, yet also angry. perhaps at himself, perhaps at the world. you don’t utter a single word. if there’s anything you want, it’s for your husband to speak about his inner turmoil freely. you’re the only person who he can have such emotional conversations with—the only person he can be himself with.

the real gojo satoru.

not the strongest.

that’s why you’re not surprised when satoru opens his mouth to confess the inevitable to you. “i’m scared,” his voice cracks. it’s a faint change in tone, but it is noticeable to you. you’ve been his lover for long enough to notice every minuscule thing.

the white-haired man lets out another sigh. you brush his soft bangs out of his eyes and instantly notice the sudden weariness in them. normally, those beautiful blue eyes shine brightly, yet that light has now dimmed.

you pat his head and satoru immediately leans into your touch. you allow him to process his own emotions and words before speaking up.

“scared?” you ask quietly and carefully, giving your husband space to explain.

satoru nods. there are a thousand thoughts running through his mind. all those thoughts he’s tried to suppress since the day you’ve announced your pregnancy. maybe even before that—at the day of your wedding.

he’s sat down with you a few months into the marriage, to have the talk about kids. he seemed to be delighted to have children with you, however there have always been some dark and hidden thoughts lingering in the back of his mind.

the sorcerer has chosen to ignore them for the longest time. he’s been trying to convince himself that he has nothing to worry about. you’re going to be fantastic parents and your children are going to be extremely loved.

the day you surprised him with your pregnancy, was like a dream. satoru cried - which he rarely does - so it was an emotional night for both of you. neither of you could wait to meet your child—happy with whatever gender.

despite all of the optimism and enthusiasm, satoru’s struggles with his inner thoughts have not yet ended. he doesn’t want to bother you with it. you seem so content and he does not want to ruin that at all.

but even the strongest without limits has to reach a breaking point.

“yeah,” satoru speaks up, his voice hoarse. he kisses your belly button, hoping his child doesn’t pick up on his distress somehow. your husband closes his eyes as he places his forehead against your tummy, praying that the heavens above hear his pleas, “i don’t want our kid to inherit my cursed techniques. at all.”

your hand doesn’t stop stroking satoru’s hair. you don’t flinch at his words, nor do you immediately discard his worries. in all honestly, you’ve shared the same feelings before getting pregnant.

you know how satoru’s treated by the jujutsu society. it’s dehumanising how he’s seen as a weapon of some sorts. a weapon that could solve all problems—one that cannot rest until its duty is done.

you despise it. you’ve told satoru about your hatred for the toxic society, even going as far as asking him to move to a different country without telling anyone. you’re sick and tired. you can’t recall the amount of times that you’ve cried alone, in the bathroom, after you’ve seen the state your lover comes back home in.

the white-haired man always seems so tired. his eyes and head hurt because of them overusing his cursed techniques. there are even days where satoru doesn’t put his blindfold or sunglasses off at home.

and when you try to talk to him about it, satoru simply assures you that ‘he’ll be fine’. you believe him in the moment, but you don’t know for how long you’ll be able to keep that trust.

you’re letting him break, slowly yet surely, right in front of you. he’s working himself to his demise. it’s nothing out of the ordinary to not want the same for your child.

though, you’re sure that it’ll be fine even if your baby boy inherits satoru’s techniques. that’s because you two are going to protect him with all you have. no one is going to treat your child like a weapon—not while the both of you are still alive.

“i don’t want our child to take over the burden i carry,” satoru continues. his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. he’s already thinking about all the possibilities that can follow with the birth of your son.

he can hide his child from the world, but wouldn’t that be too restrictive? he can keep an eye on him every second of the day, but wouldn’t that be overprotective?

you notice satoru’s internal state of panic increasing, so you quickly cup his face. you lean down and press a firm kiss against his lips, to which he instantly responds. his breath hitches and he sits up on the mattress, deepening the kiss as his hands hold you by the back of your head.

he needs this—you—more than anything else in the world. if it wasn’t for you, he’d have lost his sanity long ago.

you pull back after a good minute and pant. you chuckle as you notice the slight pout on satoru’s lips. he never seems satisfied with just one kiss, which is adorable. you coo and pepper his face with small pecks, “aww.”

it’s comforting to the sorcerer. he closes his eyes and his mouth forms a small smile. you’re doing an amazing job at calming him down. satoru’s muscles relax and he finds himself nestled between your legs soon enough.

you realise that he’s still somewhat afraid for the future of his child by the way he’s playing with your shirt. his head lays on your chest and his long fingers trace shapes on your exposed skin.

“i know, honey, i know,” you murmur against the top of his head. you massage satoru’s scalp gently, nearly making him purr because of how incredible that feels. you stare at the ceiling and continue your little talk.

“i’ve thought about all of it too,” your fingers find his undercut, playing with the little hairs. all you can hope for is that your partner stresses less about the outcome of your pregnancy.

if you can do one thing for him, it’d be that. reassuring him that you’ll both do your best for your child will surely put him at ease. your husband has enough to worry about anyway.

you want to share that burden. you don’t want him to carry the world on his shoulders alone—he’s got you for that now.

“but i think that our son will be fine. why? because he’s got you,” you smile and kiss satoru’s forehead. it’s his favorite type of kiss and it works wonders when you comfort him. his ocean eyes regain their sparkle, both because of your unconditional love and trust in his parenting skills, “our boy will grow up fine and protected because he’s got you as his amazing dad, yeah?”

satoru takes some time to let your words sink in. your trust in him is a beautiful thing. of course, he’ll protect his kid no matter what. both you and his kid will be safe for as long as he’s alive. you’re going to be a happy family—one that he’s always dreamed of having.

he isn’t going to raise his child to be the strongest. he isn’t going to raise his child as an heir to the throne. he isn’t going to raise his child as his legacy. he isn’t going to raise his child as a tool.

his son will have a normal childhood and he will guarantee that. satoru will give his kid what he didn’t have as a child himself;

unconditional love and support for whatever his son wishes to become.

satoru raises his head and leans in to kiss you, hugging you to himself. he adores you so much, you’re all he needs to feel like he can do anything and everything all at once.

carrying the world on his shoulders so you can live peacefully in it is all satoru does it for.

“heh, damn right. i’ll be the best husband and dad ever.”

. . .

but in the end, your dreams are just dreams, right?

an escape from reality, that’s all dreams really are. all those times you’ve sat together to pick the furniture you want to place in the nursery, to paint the room a baby blue, to buy clothes and toys, diapers and carriers, to giggle about the places you would love to visit as a family, to think about possible baby names, to joke about whether your son will say ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ first — all of it were naive, hopeful dreams.

perhaps you were too caught up in them to realise that reality will hit when least expected.

satoru and you have lived in your own bubble—your own little fantasy world where tragic fates does not exist. no one in this planet would suffer if life worked that way.

no one on this planet would have to pick up the phone and have their world shatter, their dream bubble pop. to have all hope lost in the span of a second.

grief is a scary thing. it’s devastating and it will consume you whole. you don’t realise that until you experience it firsthand. losing someone close to you will break you in half. it’s a punch to the gut.

especially if it’s your husband. someone you considered your partner—who’s promised you to be together forever. maybe those promises were also a part of your fantasy.

maybe they were also but a beautiful lie.

your footsteps feel heavy. you don’t have any energy left in you. every drop has been drained from you the moment you heard the news over the phone. your eyes and head hurt, both feeling like they’re going to burst. you don’t want to accept any of this.

the faces of the people around you are a blur. they’re all holding their head low, their hands gathered in front of them to show respect. no one speaks—all the room is filled with are your sobs. the loud cries you let out in hopes that they wake you up from this absolute nightmare.

you drag your feet to the examination table in the middle of the room. tears continue to blur your vision, though surely, you can confirm the outline of the body laying underneath the blanket.

how could you not recognise the person you thought you’d spend eternity with?

it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. it’s unfair. . .

“satoru.” your voice is barely audible. your hands are shaking and your face is stained with endless streams of tears. you stand at the side of the table and you instantly curl your fingers around the edge.

seeing that face from up close hits different. usually, it’d have your stomach fill with a feeling of delight, yet now all you feel when looking at it is unimaginable dread.

the blood on the corners of his mouth. the blanket that’s hiding whatever is left of him from below the waist. the dull eyes that once stared at you with hope and love. those dried lips that normally shone with a layer of gloss.

god, it’s awful. you don’t want this to be true. you’re still waiting to be woken up by your husband. so he can hold you close and hug you, whisper sweet nothings and reassure you that he’d never leave you alone in a savage world like this.

your shaky fingers reach out to his right hand. his skin feels cold and his hand doesn’t hold yours back. your breath hitches and you let out a long, devastating cry. it sounds like a scream for help as your body crumbles—falling to your knees whilst you tightly grip your lover’s limp hand.

“no, god no, please!” you cover your mouth with your free hand, nearly hyperventilating from pure pain. you feel like your heart is going to give up on you. it’s breaking into a million pieces, as does your future. you can’t live without him—you can't do it.

satoru is the sole reason you’ve held out for so long. you were each other’s support system. you can’t do any of this on your own. you can’t breathe properly—your body doesn’t let you.

not until you feel a hand on your back, rubbing it gently. you can guess that it’s shoko, but you’re too distraught to even pay attention to her. you lift yourself up by holding onto the edge of the table, your legs shaking. you sniffle and sob uncontrollably.

you reach out to touch satoru’s lifeless face, as gentle as you always do. you flinch when you feel just how cold his body is—the usual warmth that would comfort you gone, nowhere to be found. you don’t get a reaction from him when you touch his cheeks.

it only serves to remind you of the tragic events that unveiled. you’re still in denial, but the moment feels real. your brain is slowly yet surely processing the information. though, you don’t want it to. you want to live in a world where you grow old with your husband.

where your child is going to grow up with a father figure at home.

“satoru, come back to me.. to us, please,” you beg and beg, hoping he smiles and sits up, telling you that it’s just one of his silly pranks again. when none of that happens, you feel yourself become more hopeless. you hunch over him and cup his face. the same face that would light up whenever you’d touch it.

you hiccup and wail, unable to breathe. you rub his cheekbones with your thumbs, settling your forehead against his. your tears fall underneath his eyes and slide down his temples, making it seem like he’s crying with you.

you wait for satoru to respond, but he doesn’t. there’s an eerie silence on his part and you’re panicking. you need him to comfort you, but he isn’t there to do that anymore. you’re left alone, all alone.

“i can’t do this without you—we can’t do this without you,” you stammer between sobs. you can’t go through life, knowing satoru isn’t going to be there for you. he isn’t going to come home anymore. he isn’t going to cuddle you to sleep anymore. he isn’t going to experience what it’s like to have a family of his own. he isn't going to be able to hold his child and to play with him.

you blame life for being unfair—always taking away the people who don’t deserve it. satoru hasn’t done anything to deserve this. he just.. existed. his fate of becoming the strongest, decided at his birth, is what has lead to his death.

you continue to sob to yourself. you refuse to acknowledge anything or anyone else in the room. you’re solely focused on your husband. or rather, what’s left of him.

remembering how excited satoru was to spend the rest of his life with you and your future children pains you all the more. he’s been stripped from a normal life. you’ve tried your hardest to give him that said normal life, yet your hopeful dreams have gotten you nowhere.

you wipe your tears away for the first time in a while. your grief is making you delusional—disoriented to the point you try to make yourself feel better. you force a smile and hold tightly onto satoru’s limp hand, trying to speak through your quiet sniffles.

“o-our boy is gonna be born soon,” you chuckle bitterly and place satoru’s hand on your belly. it’s gotten bigger over the months and you’re already eight months along. he was so close to meeting your child—so close. yet his tragic destiny did not allow him to.

you hope he’s been happy with you for as long as he lived. you hope you’ve somewhat relieved him from his misery for as long as he lived. that burden he carried, the world he carried on his shoulders. . . it doesn’t seem to want to detach from him. even after death.

you press a deep kiss against his forehead. satoru’s favorite spot to be kissed at, you remember. you wish he feels it in the afterlife; wherever he may he. as long as he’s in a better place now, one that treats him well. this current world has been too cruel on him. it doesn’t deserve to home someone like your husband.

“i wish you were here to see your son. to see our baby grow up, you'd be so proud, honey,” you kiss satoru’s forehead again. it’s all you can do stop yourself from losing it completely. you know satoru would tell you to be strong, for his sake. for your unborn son.

“i’m going to tell him all about you, ‘kay? i'm going to tell him about how awesome his dad was,” your voice breaks for the nth time. you’re still in the first stage of grief, though you try to seem strong in case satoru is watching from somewhere.

that’s what he did when he was the one going through a tough time. he’d act brave and fine, putting on a mask to make you worry less, telling you all kinds of reassuring words while he was suffering internally.

now it’s your turn to safely send his soul off to the afterlife. to let satoru pass away in peace, with him knowing that you’re going to live on for him and for your child. it’s the least you can do at the moment.

you put on a brave face, staring into his lifeless eyes, smiling through the unbearable pain. you’re sure he’s still listening to you from somewhere. satoru’s always told you that your voice is soothing, so you do your best to calm his soul and reassure him that it’s fine for him to rest.

“i’ll do my best to raise him, yeah? so you.. you just rest.”

rest was a foreign word to the sorcerer. this world didn’t give him an ounce of peace. he’d either be overworked by his family or the jujutsu society, and if it isn’t work, his inherited techniques were slowly killing his brain and body.

you’re praying that satoru has none of that in the afterlife. you’re praying that he can live a normal life, eternally. so that when you join him one day, you both won’t have to suffer nor share the burden. you can live out your dreams without anyone interrupting.

not even fate.

“you deserve to rest. you really do,” you sigh.

soon enough, you feel yourself crumble again. you burst out in tears once you realise that he’s actually never coming back to you in this life. you bury your face in the crook of his neck and sob loudly, not holding back your emotions anymore. you just can’t—you can’t act brave when your second half has been taken away from you so suddenly.

you hope that you succeeded into sending him off without any worries. you can’t help but continue rambling to yourself, “i’m going to miss you s’much. oh, my baby.”

you lift your head back and stare into satoru’s eyes once more. did he think about you when he was on his deathbed? did he see his life flash before his eyes, including his many memories with you? did he see what could have been?

it’s unfair.

you give him one last bright smile and gently close his eyelids for him, hoping his lost soul saw your face before you did so. with one last kiss on his lips, you whisper your final words;

“please wait for me on the other side, my love.”