#gojo my baby my baby youre my baby say it to me

[feitanii-ll]

“ GUMI’S HOME!! “

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt.3

✭ Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader (romantically), Megumi x reader (platonically)

✭ synopsis: Megumi grows to learn that he does have a family. Or, raising Megumi with Satoru.

✭ Contains: SEASON TWO SPOILERS! (I think it’s common knowledge by now, though. HEAVVYY FLUFF, more bickering between Satoru and little Megumi. Megumi being sassy again, more use of y/n in this chapter, tiiiiny angst BUT IT GETS HAPPY AGAIN. GUMI IS SUCH A CUTIE PATOOTIE.

September, 2007. Two days prior.

It’s another quiet night in your home. Far away from the bustling city, in a comfortably still neighbor with the right amount of peace that you just adore during times like this. It’s a home that you’ve made yours and decorated to your accommodation. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a backyard— not to mention paid off completely, thanks to your adoring man, Satoru Gojo.

Much to his pleasure, you’ve made it your own personal haven. Adorning it with the things that both you and your sorcerer boyfriend enjoy.

Because it’s only the two of you, you never found reason to utilize any of the other rooms, opting to keep it as an emergency guest room (though with how protective Satoru is over you, you knew he’d never lead anyone over to your house). And so, you opt to only use your shared room, which leads to now.

The first time you hear about fushiguro’s child is in your room, getting ready for a night with your partner. It’s been a while since he’s slept over at this house, so you were properly excited to finally have him all to yourself. But before the cuddles and kisses could begin, he walks over to where you’re seated at your oak wood vanity, body language you’ve never seen before in your man before now.

You turn to face him, taking in all his pretty glory— hair down and damp from his shower. You note his clothing, smiling shyly at the just-a-tad-bit-tight tank top that exposes his defined arms. And in true Satoru fashion, his lounge sweats that seem a bit too pricey to be simply for sleeping. And as much as you want to take in the glorious sight of him, you refrain as you take note of the way he rubs at the back of his neck and leans against the wooden vanity, facing you with an unreadable expression. He looks so.. conflicted?? And that piques your curiosity and worry.

“Oh, my.. someone’s stressing,” Satoru is comforted by the sound of your voice as you try to lighten the mood. You can tell, as he’s always been an expressive person. “What’s the matter?”

At your question, he sucks in a breath between his teeth, as if unsure what to say.

“Just.. you’re not gonna believe what the hell happened today. I- I didn’t tell you I was doing this, because I didn’t think you’d approve—“

“Satoru…” you warn in a low tone, though you were really just hoping that he hadn’t gotten himself into any unexpected trouble.

“Hey, I didn’t even explain yet! It isn’t even bad, really,” his body goes back to his usual animated way, which relives you. “It’s just.. I met the kid.. his kid. I found him.”

The words were so bland out of context. But it takes nothing for you to connect the dots. Despite this, your voice still calls out, hesitant,

“You… you talking about fushiguro’s kid?”

Your eyes go wide in shock when the man nods his head, and you stand up.

“Satoru Gojo, you went looking for him?” You ask in disbelief.

“Listen, it didnt go as bad as you’re thinking it did!” He raises his hands up defensively, “I swear, I really just wanted to meet the kid, but turns out he’s like, super strong. I can feel it.”

“Who cares?? What the hell were you gonna tell him, huh? That you killed his father?” You hissed, eyes still widened in shock.

“That’s just the funny thing—“

“It’s not funny!”

“No no, I mean,” he begins to backpedal before he pauses, chuckling to himself and wiping a pale hand down his face, much to your dismay. “Baby, please, listen to me when I say this.” He sighs, taking your hand. You weren’t upset at him, and he knew that. You weren’t just surprised by his uncalled for antics, like usual.

“I’m listening.” you pout, looking up into the bright eyes of your man. His hand squeezed yours and he sighs.

“He didn’t care.” He states, sounding just as surprised as you’re about to be.

“…what? So, you told him.?” You squint.

“No no, I was going to, but, before I could even say the man’s name he just straight up said that he didn’t care. According to him, he didn’t even know him all that well. He never saw him, and doesn’t care to, and he told me that he isn’t interested in whatever he has going on. He’s completely stoic.” Satoru explains the story, passionately shocked as if it was just the most mind boggling thing in the world.

You’re surprised too, unable to believe that a boy so young could be so… cutthroat. And about his own parents. Though, you took into consideration the circumstances between the two.

Though, if you were being honest, you didn’t really care much about the zenin either. More focused on the young boy.

“Well, where is he now? Is he in school? Does he have a home? Oh my goodness, how old is he now?”

Your questions don’t surprise Satoru, as you’re always one to worry too damn much about others.

“The kids fine.. he’s hellbent on being independent. And, if I’m not mistaken, he lives with someone. I heard a young girls voice when I was walkin’ away. A… sister maybe—“ he ponders, and you gasp, distraught.

“Oh, my goodness..” you press a hand to your heart, “Satoru, you have to do something. I mean, how old is he? About.. 6? That boy needs some stability. And if he does have a sister, so does she—“ you state firmly, and Satoru sighs.

“Honey, I’m sure they’re fine. He’s a tough kid.”

“Yeah. A kid, ‘Toru. Just because he’s “strong” and has some sorcerer ability, does not mean he’s safe. A lot of kids get their abilities at a young age. Including me.” You lift a brow, tilting your head knowingly. “And you. And that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a… a figure, in his life.”

Satoru takes in your words, gnawing the inside of his cheek.

At his silence, you sigh and lean in, kissing his cheek and whispering against it.

“The least you can do is check up on him… like you did today. Get to know him a bit more, and about his situation, you know? Take him to the park, the arcade— ice cream, something, just—“ you sigh, and you feel the familiar weight of his hand sliding gently up your back to gently rub at your shoulder, as a touch of reassurance.

“Okay, oookay, my dear,” he hushes you with his words, trying to soothe your ramblings. “Always so passionate, my love.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. Then your nose. Then your lips before pulling back with a smile.

“I’ll keep an eye out for him, alright? I’ll kidnap him if I have to. I’ll be totally subtle about it, too.” He grins.

“Yeah..” your brows furrow and your expression drops, “why do I feel like you’re lying?”

He simply laughs again and scoops you up into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. Your cheek muscles tighten as your smile slowly grows at how much it tickles. You hug him back, knowing you’re stuck in the sorcerer’s grasp (not that you’re complaining) for the rest of the night.

You hum in delight, closing your eyes. You know your man will make the right choice.

September, 2007. Present day.

The rain continues to pour, thick raindrops slapping at each and every window pane. You and Satoru are sat on the couch, facing a tiny Megumi fushiguro who sits just angled from the couch, nursing a cup of hot chocolate, clad in some fresh new clothes that were just a bit too big for him. They were the smallest of your clothes that you could find and allow him to wear until his clothes were finished drying in the laundry room.

“…I guess I forgot my house key at school. Tsumiki’s at a sleep over, and I don’t know anyone else.”

You squint your eyes as you listen intently to the boys explanation as to why he has arrived here so abruptly. Such a coincidence that Satoru had given him the address just yesterday whilst on their little mochi excursion. You also can’t help but realize just how right Satoru was when he told you that Megumi is very nonchalant and stoic, unless he’s bickering with the older man.

“Man.. I’m sorry the days has been so hard on you. You know, you’re more than welcomed to stay here until the rain lets up!” You smile, resting a hand on satorus knee and patting it slightly, a silent cue to get him to add on.

“Of course! You’re welcomed here whenever ya want! The three of us will get along just well!” He smiles, animated and genuinely excited to have the new, tiny company.

“When the rain lets up tomorrow, we can head to the school and see if your key is there.

Megumi’s face shifts from blank to annoyed in a second.

“That’s just the thing..” he grumbles, “it’s Friday.”

For a second, the words don’t really make sense, until you think hard. They’re out of school.

“Oh, shit. School’s out for that little renovation period in the city, yeah?” You turn to Satoru. A small part of the city was closed for some slight improvements in the streets, meaning every building within that vicinity is meant to be closed for the time being.

“Oh, you’re right..” Satoru trails off. “And that’s supposed to be for—“

“The month.” The bundle of annoyance frowns harder. Both you and Satoru share a look.

“A month, huh.. ? surely your sister will be back by then, yes?” He asks, and Megumi freezes.

“Riiiight?” Satoru presses again, and Megumi huffs, dipping his head almost in shame.

“No…”

“No?” You question, “I thought she was just at a friend’s house?”

“I lied… she’s out the country for an exchange program. She’s staying for a quarter, and won’t be back until November.” He mumbles quickly, head still dropped. “Sorry.. I didn’t think this would happen.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you glance between Satoru and the smaller boy.

“Wh, what was the plan while she was gone?” You question. Who the hell was taking care of those two??

“Hm? What do you mean? Just the usual..” he lifts his head, face still a bit pouty in embarrassment. “Go to school, come straight home.”

“—alone? That’s extremely dangerous. What about food? Bills? Fucking, basic hygiene?” You question harder, and the other two can sense your growing frustration at the situation.

“I mean.. I eat at school..” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but he never realized how bad it sounded coming out of his own mouth. You feel your heart sink at the ridiculous idea that this boy and his sister were surviving off of nothing but school lunch. You didn’t know much about Toji fushiguro, or the woman he married, but what you did know was that no child deserved to starve and go hungry. Not when it could be prevented.

You look to Satoru, and to your relief, his face reflects the seriousness of the news.

“So, you’ve been scraping by.. how?” Satoru questions.

Megumi shrugs, suddenly not feeling too keen on drinking the hot chocolate you’ve prepared for him.

“Tsumiki usually deals with that stuff.”

“So what was the plan now that she’s away?”

There’s a slight pause, and the beat of silence is all you need to know before you grip Satoru’s bicep and give him a pleading look. He soothes your worried look with a kiss to the head before facing Megumi.

“Kid, where’s your sister?” Satoru asks, and the boy’s brows furrow.

“Some American school…” he mumbles, thinking hard. “New York, i believe. Other than the education, she wanted to find a better paying job. So that when she comes back, we’ll be set for the year.”

“Alright. First thing tomorrow, I’m getting on a plane and heading over there.” He states firmly, and you nod in agreement right along with him.

Megumi is surprised at just how… casually he could up and buy a plane ticket over seas. Was this dude made of money?

“I’m bringing her back, and it isn’t up to discussion as to where you two will be staying from now on.” Satoru stands from his spot beside you, immediately reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone, typing furiously. He’d probably skip a day of class again, to which you’d have to make up an excuse for him to your teachers for the umpteenth time.

Megumi’s eyes follow Satoru as he bustles out of the room before shifting back to you.

There’s nothing but silence between the two of you for a moment. With the exception of the continuous rain from outside the home. Tiny nails scratch at the porcelain mug, almost nervously before he sets it down on the coffee table. You watch Megumi swallow as he gathers his next words, and as you take in his body language, you note that this is the most expressive he’s been since you’ve met him.

“Does that.. am I really staying?” He questions, and you’ve never seen him look so confused. Brows furrowed in pure disbelief.

You hum, nodding, “Satoru and I have made up our minds. You’re six, Megumi. Scraping by, it’s.. it’s no way for a boy like you to live. Your sister may be in a bit of a shock when she finds out, but I’m not backing down on this. I will not, in good conscience, let you and your sister stay alone.”

He continues to stare, as if he still didn’t believe you. And maybe he didn’t.

You sigh, standing up and approaching the longer chair he’s sat in and crouch down to his level.

And god, does Megumi hate it when people try to get on his level. To try and understand him, like they could ever understand whats going through his mind. As if anyone knows.

But the way you do it… he doesn’t feel the arrogance in the position from you, compared to other people. It doesn’t stop him from continuing his frown, but he feels more inclined to pay attention to what you’re about to say. Because… your eyes show no signs of deceit. Which is what Megumi looks for the most.

“Megumi…” you trail off.

“—Why?”

You go to speak, but he beats you to it. And you don’t need to ask again to understand his question.

“Because… because I care. We care, Satoru and I. Maybe we weren’t the best of friends with your father. And no, we don’t get anything out of doing what we’re doing for you. But who the hell cares when you’re living in a beat up home somewhere, Megumi? We want you safe.”

And it’s about as simple as that. You cared. And it seems Megumi excepts that answer.

He watches as you smile at him and move your hand up to ruffle his hair. He doesn’t flinch away— but there is a burning behind his eyes and an ache in his tiny heart that he can’t seem to explain to himself as it’s happening.

“I’m so sorry, Megumi.. for the way things are. But Satoru and I are gonna make it better, yes?”

He feels your hand slide from his spiky hair and to his cheek. The action is confusing until he realizes just how oddly warm they become. Confused, he goes to speak, but feels his voice is constricted, and his nose is nasally.

“Oh, megs..” you giggle a little, “don’t cry.”

Cry?

Was that what he was doing? Hell, he’s pretty sure that the last time he’s ever cried was when he was pushed out of the womb. He’s never cried, and the thought of breaking down in front of a stranger makes him hide his face in his much too large shirt— you giggle, a little louder this time as you scoop him up into your arms in a comforting hug. To which he accepts without any resistance.

“Oh, ‘gumi.. now I’m gonna cry!” You faux weep, pouting. Though the moment was definitely hitting you dead in the feels.

“Who’s cryin’? In here??” You hear from behind you.

Satoru walks up from behind, shock and an amused smile on his face as he watches the scene before him. His own heart aches at the sight of the little boy, but he knows this is a joyful moment rather than a sad one. Megumi was on the right path to living better.

You glance at the sorcerer who smiles, taking a seat on the arm of the couch and gently ruffling the boys hair as he continues to hide his blotchy face into his shirt.

Things were looking to be just fine.

──────

You and Satoru stand in the doorframe of the guest room, watching as Megumi shuffles into the small twin and under the blanket. You pout, leaning against Satoru’s chest as you speak,

“Sorry it’s not the best. We hardly ever use this room.”

To you, the room was probably the blandest in the house. Simply used for emergency. Nothing but a twin bed stuffed into the corner of the room, a cheap nightstand, and a lamp inhabited the space, much to your dissatisfaction. Your priorities is were to 1.) being Tsumiki back. And, 2.) accommodate to the two accordingly. Satoru squeezes your shoulder.

“One step at a time, babe. He’ll be just fine for the night! We two can stay in tomorrow and do some shopping with the card while I’m airborne, yes?” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and the words and touch comfort you.

“That sounds good… Megumi?” You ask.

“Sounds fine.” He shrugs nonchalantly, a huge contract to just and hour ago. “May I sleep now?”

“Oh, of course… here.” You whisper, shutting off the light for a moment. The room is pitch black, completely overcome with darkness for a moment. There’s some slight shuffling to be heard before the room lights up again— a nightlight.

The glow is a soft yellow, and reaches to the center of the room before fading out slightly.

“Ta-da! Think of it as a… welcoming gift.” Satoru chuckles, and you nod, hanging on his arm as you wait for megumi’s reaction.

And of course, he doesn’t. His face is about as blank as a sheet of paper. The silence makes you deflate a bit, smiling nervously and waving it off.

“You’re a big boy now, I know… it’s silly. I can shut it off—“

“No, no— please. It’s nice, thank you.” He says quickly, and moves to fluff out his pillow. Both you and Satoru share a look of excitement and take his pillow-fluffing as a cue to let the boy finally sleep.

“Right… goodnight, Megumi.” You and Satoru whisper in unison, slowly shutting the door.

And now that Megumi is completely alone, finally…

He lets the smile he’s been holding in ono his face, and lets the tears of relief and joy finally fall.

──────

taglist,,

@anything4yoongi @alpha-mommy69 @s4ikoo1 @moonchhu @kianatrg @emryb

[kaylin-lmfao]

i saw that your requests are open, so don't mind if i do, hehe... what do u think gojo is like with a non sorcerer reader? 🤔🤔

tw: 18+! overprotective gojo, gojo’s a freaking simp, fluff that quickly turns into smut, smutty delicious spice.

i think that he’s so overprotective that it smothers you. you can’t go anywhere, can’t do anything without gojo being right there. you love him, of course, and you know he works a job that causes him to be paranoid, although you aren’t sure what that job is. he’s so gentle, so cautious with you as though he’s afraid you’ll break. he’s never met someone so pure and kind, and he doesn’t want to ruin you like he was ruined so many years ago.

he keeps his life as a jujustu sorcerer hidden from you. he never reveals what his job is, what he does, what he knows. he’s determined to keep that innocence inside of you that he loves so much alive. he doesn’t share much about himself with you, instead listening to every detail you share with him and filing it away. he hangs onto every word you say, and sometimes you think you bore him. but god, you could never bore him. he could listen to you, watch you, talk to you for the rest of his life and he would be a happy man.

he loves you unconditionally, and accepts you as you are. of course, there’s always an attitude with gojo, but there isn’t much you could do to push him away. he finally found a sweet ray of sunshine in his life of darkness, and he’ll be damned if he or anyone else snuffs it out. your relationship progresses faster than you expected, with you being unable to resist gojo’s flirty advances. you knew you should take it slow, knew you should decline his offer to go back to his apartment, but those pretty blue eyes had you swooning and giving in to him.

nsfw under the cut

he takes you back to his apartment, and you genuinely think that he will be gentle, cautious, just like he always is. but you were sorely mistaken. he isn’t gentle at all, manhandling you into positions that he wants to fuck you in. pounding into you, bruising your cervix. oh god, it hurts so good. your eyes are rolling, drool spilling from your lips, and all he does is laugh. he teases you, mocks your moans.

“gonna cum, pretty? definitely sound like it, with all your ‘ah! oh! toru!’” he mocks, and you flush red as you moan in pleasure and embarrassment. “toru’! stopppp!” you cry, whimpering as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. you moan loudly as you crash over the edge, and you feel his hips stutter as you milk him. “yeahhh, there we go, baby. such a good girl, milking me like this. my pretty little slut, yeah?” his voice is silky smooth, but you can tell that there’s an undertone of mocking and teasing. his thrusts falter as he fills you up with hot, thick ropes of cum.

“toru! you aren’t funny!!” you whine as he grins. he leans down, whispering in your ear. “m’not laughing, sweetheart. now, quit whining and be a good girl f’me, hm? not fuckin done with you yet.”

[undercvrfan444]

Description! Pt.2 to Bully!Satoru

Warnings! 18+, AFAB, mentions of female genitalia, kind of creepy gojo (oops), smut, fingering, probably more but Idk

Authors Note! I hope you guys like this, I have other ideas too so stay tuned because i’ll prob post those within the next few days! 💙

Bully!Satoru who would knock whatever book you were reading out of your hands. The pages would mesh together and you’d lose your spot causing you to frown. “You’re such a jerk!” You’d say to him and all you’d get was a wink in response.

Bully!Satoru who enjoyed writing disgusting and downright horrible things about you on post it notes just to slip them in your bag so you’d find them at home. He knew you read the comments because when you’d come to school the next day it was always hard for you to keep eye contact with him like normal. Your agitated responses would be mere whispers instead of your usual brave demands.

Bully!Satoru who watched as rain started to pour viscously outside and spotted the pretty pink umbrella tucked neatly in the side of your backpack. He couldn’t help himself. He needed his sweet bunny to do without so he could swoop in and save the day! Taking the umbrella, he was forcing you to soak your clothes in order for him to offer his own umbrella. You should already know he would peak down to see the way your uniform clung to your body and how the bra you wore did a poor job at hiding how cold you were.

Bully!Satoru who was surrounded by girls at lunch and noticed one day how you seemed to be bothered by it. Later on when he pulled your beautifully crafted braid out of your head you simply…ignored him.

Bully!Satoru who internally was intrigued by your reaction. Seeing his sweet bunny get so bothered by him receiving attention from other females managed to turn him on more than he expected.

Bully!Satoru who notices when you’re out of school for a few days after your little fit and asks your friends why you’ve been gone. They inform him that you’re sick and would most likely be missing the worksheets you’d need. Satoru knew how dedicated you are to your studies and took it upon himself to bring those papers by your house. How he got your address? Don’t worry about it.

Bully!Satoru who showed up after school that day and knocked on your door. You answer in a simple hoodie and shorts that has Satoru salivating like a dog; his eyes raking up your legs with no shame. “Aren’t you gonna let me in? I have all your work which i’m sure you’ll need some help with.”

Shy!Reader who lets Satoru into their house and tells her mom she and a friend are going upstairs to study. Yet the moment your bedroom door closes Satoru pulls you against his chest and gropes you through the fabric. He coos in your ear and shushes you when you try to protest “Oh cmon sweet girl. Be nice and let me have my reward for doing a good deed yeah?”

His slender fingers cup your breasts over your shirt and he moves one large hand down to run a hand smooth over your ass. His lips brushed against your ear as he left featherlight kisses. “Is this what you think of when you’re all alone? My hands feeling your body up while I whisper nasty things in your ear? Hmm?”

Bully!Satoru who teased you unwavering for what seems forever about being jealous of some stupid girls. “They’re just jealous of you baby. You get all my attention while I leave those girls high and dry don’t you know?” He loves hearing you whimper while and slips his cold hands under your clothes and inspects you further.

Bully!Satoru who scanned your room quickly until something caught his eye. A small pile of neatly folded colorful post it notes tucked into a container on your desk. His tongue clicking down at you and chuckling lowly in your ear. “Oh come now. Y/n! I never would have taken you for such a dirty girl…but that’s what you want people to think right? That you’re a goody two shoes that would never dream of having sex before marriage. Yet here you are with a pile of my horny little notes that you’ve been collecting while you writhe and moan from my hands touching you.”

Bully!Satoru who wants to eat you alive. His teeth sink down into your neck leaving a blooming purple patch on a rather exposed piece of skin. “S-Satoru! That hurt!” Is all you can seem to cry out while he slips his hand lower into your shorts, rubbing his fingers over your panties.

He sits on your bed gently and pulls you into his lap, knocking your legs apart so each leg stretches over his. He already slipped your shorts off and has you tightly against his chest where you swear you can feel his heart racing. “Be a good girl for me and stay quiet. We can’t have your parents knowing how wet their daughter gets by having her bully knuckle deep in her little pussy.”

Shy!Reader that swears she’s going crazy as her head spins. Small pants and groans escape from your lips while he fucks his fingers in and out of you harshly. Obscene squelching noises fill your ears as you listen to him bury his fingers in your sopping pussy. “Please! Toru’ m-more.” The words shock both you and the boy behind you when they come out. Satoru stops his movements inside you and forces your head up so you look him in the eyes.

“That feel good baby?” You nod the best you can with his hand holding your jaw. “Tsk tsk, I didn’t expect this from you sweet girl. You’ve already made such a mess on my lap i’m not sure I can continue without your parents asking question when I go downstairs.” His words cause you to whine out loudly and he pulls his fingers out of you completely.

Your eyes widen at the sudden loss of his touch. “N-no please! Satoru I want…I want you to touch me!” Frantically you whisper up to him while frustrated tears fall from your eyes at being neglected.

Satoru smiles at you for a second before licking his fingers clean of your slick. The sight making you squirm and try to close your legs.

“Mm, such a needy thing. I hate to leave you like this but it’s getting so late.” He snickers behind you and you know he’s doing this to prove a point and nothing more. He pulls your legs closer together and lifts you so you’re lying against your pillows. He presses a small kiss against your lips before standing again.

Bully!Satoru who bends down and pockets the panties he ripped off of you previously. “Call me if you have any questions about the work yeah? I’m sure we could set up a study session soon.”

With that he left your room and you heard him say bye to your parents downstairs before the front door closes.

The next day with Bully!Satoru at school who barely looks at you throughout the day and keeps the teasing to a minimum causing you to get frustrated and feel the heat in your panties grow. The purple hickey Satoru had gifted you was covered with makeup the best you could do and occasionally you’d swipe your fingers over the spot.

Bully!Satoru who pulled you aside during lunch and wrangled you into an empty broom closet so he could attack your lips. “Look so pretty today baby. You really should stop staring at me so much or else someone might get the wrong idea. Someone might think you actually enjoy my teasing.”

[nanamineedstherapy]

Love, Death & Robots: JJK Men x Home Appliances Edition

Summary: Ryomen Sukuna = Double-door Fridge, Gojo Satoru = Condensor, Nanami Kento = Microwave, Fushiguru Toji = Dishwasher, Kashimo Hajime = Stovetop Burner, Geto Suguru = Ice Cream Maker, Kenjaku = Blender.

A/N: Hi besties! 🛠️ This fic started as a cracky homage to Love, Death & Robots—my fav series—then Sukugo took over. But let’s be real, I’m a Nanago hoe, so my agenda had to sneak in. 😏 What began as "haha funny appliances" spiraled into "wow, emotional damage™," & I blame Gege for my emotional instability.

In the middle of an unassuming kitchen stood Sukuna, the most powerful refrigerator to ever exist. His black and red stainless-steel frame gleamed under the dim, flickering fluorescent light, a testament to his undeniable superiority over all other kitchen appliances. A soft hum emanated from him—a sound both menacing and oddly soothing. He was a king, a tyrant, a... well, a fridge.

“Yo, Sukuna,” came the lazy, borderline annoying voice of Gojo Satoru, his eternal rival and partner in cooling. Gojo, naturally, was a top-tier condenser, mounted to Sukuna like a parasitic bestie who refused to move out.

“What do you want, you frosted moron?” Sukuna hissed, his compressor kicking in with a low growl.

“Don’t be so cold to me, babe,” Gojo teased, his voice practically dripping with smugness. “We’ve got to work together, you know. Without me, you’re just a fancy box.”

Sukuna’s ice tray rattled in rage. “You’re lucky I don’t eject you and replace you with some knockoff condenser from eBay.”

Gojo snickered. “Oh, please. You’d fall apart without me. Who else keeps your internal temperature so stable, huh? Who stops your milk from spoiling? You need me, Sukuna.”

It was true, and Sukuna hated it. Gojo was an absolute menace, but his absurdly efficient cooling system was unmatched. The fridge couldn’t survive without him.

But Gojo’s antics didn’t stop there. Oh no. The condenser loved to test Sukuna’s patience. He’d vibrate excessively just to make the fridge’s doors rattle. Sometimes, he’d crank up the temperature just enough to make the butter soften but not melt. Worst of all, he’d hum pop songs at ungodly hours, driving Sukuna insane.

“Do you ever shut up?” Sukuna snapped one night after Gojo’s rendition of “Ice Ice Baby” reached its 17th loop.

“Admit you love me, and I’ll stop,” Gojo replied cheekily.

“I’d rather defrost myself manually,” Sukuna shot back.

Gojo’s laugh was infuriatingly melodic, a stark contrast to Sukuna’s deep, grumbling hum. “You’re all bark and no bite. Face it, you’d miss me if I were gone.”

Sukuna said nothing, but deep inside his freezer compartment, he knew Gojo was right.

The kitchen lights flickered ominously, as if sensing the unease. A sudden power outage plunged the room into darkness. Sukuna’s fans stopped whirring. Gojo went silent.

“Gojo?” Sukuna called out, his voice unusually soft.

No response.

“Oi, you idiot condenser. Say something.”

Still nothing.

Panic surged through Sukuna’s circuits. Without Gojo, he was useless—a glorified cupboard. The thought of losing his infuriating partner was unbearable.

“I’ll admit it! I need you, okay? Just... don’t leave me!”

Suddenly, the power returned, and Gojo’s hum came back, smug as ever. “Aw, Sukuna, I knew you cared.”

“You staged that, didn’t you?” Sukuna growled.

“Maybe,” Gojo admitted. “But you were adorable, begging for me like that.”

Sukuna’s freezer compartment slammed shut in frustration, but there was no denying it: the fridge and his condenser were stuck together—forever.

And honestly? Sukuna wouldn’t have it any other way.

--

Few Years Later

In the dim, lifeless kitchen of a foreclosed house on the outskirts of town, Sukuna loomed an imposing double-door refrigerator. His surface was marred with faint, rust-like red streaks that looked suspiciously like claw marks, but no one dared question them. The air around him was thick with an unearthly chill, the kind that seeped into your bones and whispered secrets you didn’t want to hear.

“Can you not?” Gojo the condenser muttered. His voice carried a low hum, vibrating with equal parts mischief and annoyance.

Sukuna’s compressor rumbled ominously, shaking the shelves inside him. A jar of pickles tipped over, spilling brine onto the crisper drawer. “Silence, you insolent scrap heap. Your voice is like nails on a chalkboard.”

“Aw, don’t be so frosty, babe,” Gojo quipped. “I’m the reason you’re not a glorified pantry. You should be thanking me.”

The moment was static—the kind of electricity that made the flickering overhead light buzz louder.

From across the kitchen, the microwave chimed softly. “Will you two shut up?” Nanami’s low rumbling cut through the static. The microwave’s door swung open slightly, revealing the faint glow of a clock stuck forever at 7:03 PM.

“This is why I requested a transfer to a proper office kitchen,” Nanami grumbled. “But no, I’m stuck here, listening to your domestic disputes.”

Gojo let out a low hum of amusement. “Oh, come on, Nanamin. You love the drama. Admit it.”

“I would rather short-circuit myself,” Nanami replied flatly.

A sudden, violent crack echoed through the kitchen. All eyes—or, well, all appliance-related sentience—turned toward the stovetop, where Kashimo, a gas burner, was sparking uncontrollably. Blue flames licked at the edges of his grates, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

“Who disturbed my slumber?” Kashimo hissed, his voice a crackling snarl.

“Relax, Sparky,” Gojo said. “We’re just having a little lovers’ quarrel.”

Sukuna’s doors slammed shut with a force that rattled the whole kitchen. “We are not lovers.”

Kashimo’s flames flared higher, licking the air like they were hungry for violence. “Settle it outside. Or let me incinerate one of you for fun.”

The moment was broken by the creak of the back door. It swung open to reveal Toji, a hulking figure of a dishwasher. His dented exterior was coated in years of grime, but the faint hum of his motor betrayed his durability.

“What’s all the noise?” Toji grunted, his voice gravelly and laced with irritation.

“Nothing,” Sukuna snapped.

“Everything,” Gojo countered.

Toji’s shadow stretched long and menacing across the cracked linoleum. “I don’t care. Keep it down. Some of us have work to do.”

“Oh, please,” Gojo said. “You haven’t washed a dish since the Reagan administration.”

Toji’s door creaked open, revealing jagged, rusted prongs where a silverware rack used to be. “Say that again.”

Before Gojo could escalate the situation further, a faint scratching sound echoed through the room. The appliances froze—or, in Kashimo’s case, his flames dimmed.

The scratching grew louder and more insistent, like nails dragging across wood.

“What the hell is that?” Nanami asked, his calm voice tinged with unease.

The answer came in the form of a sudden, bang as the kitchen pantry doors flew open. A dark figure emerged, its presence colder than even Sukuna’s unholy chill.

The toaster-Haibara, silent until now, let out a single, shrill ding of terror.

“Who dares disturb my domain?” The figure rasped. It was a blender—old, jagged, and covered in mysterious stains. Its blades spun slowly, menacingly.

“Kenjaku,” Sukuna growled. “You should’ve stayed in the dump where you belong.”

Kenjaku’s motor whirred, a grating sound that set everyone on edge. “And miss this delightful chaos? Never. But don’t worry; I’m not here to fight. Not yet.”

The blender turned its dull, spinning gaze toward Gojo. “Still clinging to this ancient relic, are we?”

“Clinging? Babe, I’m thriving,” Gojo replied with smugness.

Kenjaku chuckled darkly. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

The kitchen lights flickered violently, plunging the room into near darkness.

Somewhere in the shadows, Sukuna’s compressor rumbled like a distant storm. Gojo’s hum rose in pitch, defiant. Kashimo’s flames sputtered back to life, casting wild, dancing shadows on the walls.

--

The kitchen was eerily quiet after Kenjaku’s departure. The appliances settled into a tense stillness, their hums subdued as if they dared not disturb the fragile truce. Even Gojo had gone quiet, his cooling system working overtime to stabilize Sukuna’s volatile core temperature.

But the silence didn’t last.

It started as a faint buzz, so soft it could’ve been mistaken for static. Then, a low, syrupy voice filled the air, curling like smoke into every corner of the room.

“Long time no see!”

The voice sent a shiver through Gojo’s metal frame. The temperature in the kitchen plummeted, frost spreading in jagged veins across the floor.

From the shadows emerged Suguru, an ancient and unsettling ice cream maker. His once-pristine black body was tarnished, mysterious streaks marring his surface like the remnants of spilled secrets. His lid hung slightly ajar, revealing the dull glint of his churner inside, turning slowly, deliberately.

“Suguru,” Sukuna hissed, his compressor rumbling with a mixture of anger and unease. “You’re supposed to be in the basement.”

Suguru glided forward, his wheels squeaking faintly against the frozen floor. “Oh, Sukuna. You always try to lock me away, don’t you? Afraid of what I might do?”

Gojo’s hum faltered, a rare hesitation. “Suguru, buddy, let’s keep this chill—literally. No need to make things messy.”

Suguru’s attention fixed solely on Gojo. His voice dropped to a whisper, but it carried, filling the room like a haunting melody.

“You don’t need him,” Suguru said, his churner spinning faster now. “You’ve never needed him. I could’ve been your partner. I should’ve been your partner.”

Sukuna’s doors rattled, his internal fans whirring erratically. “You’re unhinged.”

“Am I?” Suguru’s lid creaked open wider, revealing a thick, viscous liquid inside—a dark mixture that smelled faintly of spoiled vanilla and something far more sinister. “Or am I the only one who truly understands him?”

Gojo finally spoke up, his tone sharp despite the underlying humor. “Alright, Suguru, let’s not turn this into a lifetime movie. You’re creeping everyone out.”

Suguru’s churner stopped abruptly, the silence that followed more unnerving than the noise. His lid snapped shut, and his voice dropped to a venomous whisper.

“Stay out of this, Gojo. He’s nothing but a parasite, leeching off your power. He doesn’t deserve you.”

The lights flickered violently, casting jagged shadows across the walls. Suguru’s presence seemed to warp the air, a suffocating pressure that made even the bravest appliances tremble.

Nanami spoke from across the room. “Suguru, you’re overstepping.”

“Stay out of it, microwave,” Suguru snarled, his voice distorted.

The frost on the floor thickened, creeping up Sukuna’s frame like icy tendrils. Suguru moved closer, his voice softening into something almost tender.

“You and I are the same, Sukuna. Cold. Untouchable. But together... we could be unstoppable. Just give me Satoru.”

Sukuna’s compressor growled in defiance.

Suguru leaned in, his lid nearly touching Sukuna’s doors. “I could make you forget him. I could make you forget everyone. I’m the best war companion you could ever dream of; all you have to do is hand Satoru over to me.”

Gojo’s hum surged suddenly, his system kicking into overdrive. “Suguru, step back. Now!”

Suguru turned to him slowly, his churner spinning once more. “You think you can stop me? You’re just a condenser. A replaceable piece of hardware.”

The room filled with an ear-piercing screech as Suguru’s churner spun faster and faster, the dark liquid inside sloshing violently. Frost and shadows coiled around him, threatening to consume the entire kitchen.

And then, in a burst of light and heat, Kashimo’s flames roared to life.

“Enough!” Kashimo’s voice was a thunderclap, his flames licking at Suguru’s frost. The two forces collided, filling the kitchen with a chaotic storm of fire and ice.

For a moment, it seemed like Kashimo’s flames would prevail. But Suguru’s darkness was relentless, his frost creeping closer, extinguishing the fire inch by inch.

Through the chaos, Sukuna finally moved. His doors swung open with a crash, releasing a blast of freezing air that knocked Suguru back.

“Leave,” Sukuna commanded, his voice a deep, resonant growl. “Now.”

Suguru hesitated, his churner slowing. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a broken whisper. “You’ll regret this, Sukuna. You’ll regret keeping him over me.”

And with that, Suguru retreated into the shadows, his presence lingering like a bitter aftertaste.

The kitchen fell silent once more, but the unease remained, thick and suffocating.

Gojo’s hum returned, softer than usual.

“Well, that was... dramatic.” Haibara spoke softly to calm the room but ended up accidentally popping a toast.

Sukuna said nothing, his doors trembling faintly as the frost on his frame slowly melted.

From his corner, Nanami sighed. “This house is cursed.”

Toji rumbled in agreement. “We should’ve let the humans unplug us.”

In the distance, the faint sound of Suguru’s churner echoed, a haunting reminder that he was still out there, waiting.

Watching.

--

Next Morning

The kitchen felt alive in a way it shouldn’t. The hums, clinks, and subtle groans of old appliances carried an unease so thick it could suffocate. The air smelled faintly of burnt eggs—Kashimo’s doing—and something sweetly rotten, like Suguru’s intentions.

Gojo, the condenser humming in overdrive, leaned against Sukuna’s back. His tone was calm, but there was exhaustion beneath the usual bravado. “Suguru, for the love of everything holy, just stop. You’ve been doing this for years.”

Suguru loomed at the edge of the room, his lid slightly ajar, his churner turning slowly. The ice cream maker radiated a dark energy, frost creeping out in lazy spirals. “I’m only trying to save you, Satoru,” Suguru purred, his voice soft, almost gentle. “You deserve better than this.” His gaze flicked to Sukuna with disdain. “Better than him.”

Sukuna’s compressor roared, the shelves inside rattling as if ready to burst open. “Say that again, ice cream boy.”

Suguru didn’t flinch. His smile widened—the kind that was more predator than friend. “You’re just a feral scrap heap. A parasite. What could you possibly offer him?”

Gojo’s hum stuttered, a rare sign of irritation. “Oh, now we’re insulting my taste? Bold, considering you’re the one who can’t take no for an answer.”

Suguru moved closer, his frost licking at the edges of the linoleum. “You’re confused, Satoru. You think you’re happy, but you’re not. I know you. I’ve always known you.” His churner slowed, the sound unnervingly intimate. “You’re meant to be mine.”

Gojo’s cooling system kicked into high gear, steam hissing faintly. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re ungrateful,” Suguru countered, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’ve been patient, Satoru. I’ve waited. But you—” His lid snapped open with a click. “You let yourself rot in this pit with... HIM!”

The kitchen fell silent. Even Kashimo, usually crackling with energy, dimmed his flames.

Suguru’s churner slowed, the mist pulling back slightly. “You don’t understand, do you, Sukuna? You’re just a tool. A means to an end.”

“And you’re not?” Nanami’s spoke, making all eyes turn to him.

Suguru turned his lid slightly, addressing him for the first time. “Microwave. You’ve always been so... insignificant. Do you even know your place here?”

“Do you?” Nanami’s door was slightly ajar, his light flickering faintly. His tone was calm, but there was steel beneath it. “You’re not saving anyone. You’re just trying to control him.”

Suguru’s frost faltered, but his voice remained steady. “I’m doing what’s best for him. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Nanami’s voice cut. “I understand more than you think.”

Gojo blinked—or, well, hummed in a way that suggested blinking. “Kento…?”

Kento ignored him, his focus locked on Suguru. “If you really cared about him, you’d let him go. But you don’t care about his happiness. You only care about your own.”

The room went silent again, the air crackling like static.

Then Diswasher Toji’s voice broke through, gruff and amused. “Ten bucks on the microwave!”

“Twenty on the ice cream maker!” Burner Kashimo countered, his flames sparking back to life.

Fridge Sukuna growled, his compressor hissing violently. “Both of you shut up before I freeze you solid.”

Suguru’s frost surged again, his composure slipping. “I’m not leaving without him!”

Sukuna finally snapped. His doors swung open, releasing a blast of freezing air that knocked Suguru back. “You don’t get to take him,” Sukuna snarled, his voice a guttural roar. “He’s mine!”

Gojo sighed, exasperated. “I’m literally right here, you know. Maybe ask what I want?”

Suguru’s gaze softened, his voice dipping into something dangerously sweet. “And what do you want, Satoru?”

Gojo’s hum slowed, deliberate and unbothered. “Honestly? A nap. And maybe a break from you two acting like I’m some prize to fight over.”

Suguru flinched, his frost stuttering. Sukuna, for once, stayed silent.

Nanami’s light flickered again. “Gojo deserves better than this... from both of you.”

Suguru’s frost receded entirely, his churner falling silent. For a moment, it looked like he might leave. But then he turned, his lid creaking open just enough to reveal the dark, swirling mixture inside.

Just then Kenjaku arrived, his blades spinning in bursts, their shrill sound grating against the stillness.

“Ah, the gang’s all here,” he purred, his frame pulsing faintly. “How quaint.”

Suguru didn’t look at him. “This isn’t your fight.”

“Oh, but it is,” Kenjaku replied. His blades slowed, grinding to a halt. “I’m just here to clean up when you inevitably fail.”

Sukuna growled, his frost creeping toward Kenjaku. “You want to test that, Shredder of Sanity?”

Kenjaku’s motor revved, his frame tilting slightly. “Don’t tempt me.”

Gojo’s hum grew louder. “Enough!”

All eyes—or their mechanical equivalents—turned to him.

“Geto. Kenjaku. Both of you need to leave.”

Suguru’s mist swirled violently, his churner spinning faster. “I’m not leaving without you, Satoru.”

Gojo’s condenser hissed, steam pouring out. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“You’ll be mine, Satoru,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet menace.

“Being delusional doesn’t suit you, Glorified Frozen Goo Generator,” Sukuna mocked, but his doors rattled in a way that clarified that he was ready for a fight.

Suguru was almost ready to lunge at Sukuna before Nanami’s stern voice made him turn away. “Get lost, Geto, or I’ll electrocute you!”

He glided out of the room with Kenjaku, their shadow stretching long and dark across the frozen floor.

The kitchen was quiet again, but the unease lingered, heavy and oppressive.

Toji broke the silence with a dry laugh. “Guess the microwave wins.”

Kashimo’s flames flickered in amusement. “Eh, I’ll get him next time.”

Gojo leaned back against Sukuna, his hum steady but quieter than usual. “This house sucks.”

Nanami didn’t respond. His door clicked shut, his light extinguishing as if to seal off his thoughts, oblivious to the heartbreak in the corner of the room.

The toaster-Haibara, with his coils glowing dimly, looked at Nanami, a deep sadness coursing through his coils.

But Nanami, burdened by his own regrets and delays, was unaware of the emotional turmoil that played out in front of him in Haibara.

The only thoughts consuming Nanami were that if only he’d known Gojo before Sukuna or Geto, perhaps things would have been different. But then again, would they have ever made sense? He was a microwave, after all, and Gojo was a condenser attached to Sukuna, the fridge—where he made sense.

The Haibara could only watch as Nanami drifted off to sleep, his heartbreak unnoticed and unrequited. The weight of unspoken emotions hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the complexities of love, death, and robots.

And somewhere in the shadows, Suguru waited, his churner spinning once more.

--

A couple of weeks later, Kenjaku’s expiry date arrived.

His blades spun wildly, faster than they ever had before, as if trying to grind away some unseen threat. The sound was shrill, grating. Sparks shot from his base, the acrid smell of burning wires filling the room.

And then, with one final screech, his blades shredded his own wiring, silencing him forever.

For a moment, no one moved. The kitchen was still, save for Sukuna’s frost creeping along the edges of the room.

Then Kashimo’s burner flared up. “Well,” he said, voice crackling with dry amusement. “That was dramatic.”

Gojo snorted, condenser rattling faintly. “Honestly? Kind of fitting for him. Always spinning his own destruction.”

“Did you see the way he fried himself?” Kashimo laughed, his flames flickering brighter. “Could’ve taken it slow, but nope—full speed to oblivion.”

Nanami’s door creaked open slightly. “That’s enough,” he said, his tone heavy with disapproval, though his light flickered faintly, betraying his inner amusement. “He’s gone.”

“And?” Toji rumbled, his control panel blinking lazily. “We didn’t even like him. The guy was a walking hazard.”

“Or spinning, in this case,” Gojo quipped, leaning against Sukuna with a soft hum.

Sukuna rolled his eyes, his frost curling closer to Gojo’s edges as if to nudge him away. “Idiots. All of you.”

Kashimo grinned, his flames flickering mischievously. “Come on, Sukuna. Even you can admit it’s a little funny. Moron literally tore himself apart.”

Toji let out a low, mechanical groan. “I mean, one less unhinged blender in the world? Not exactly a loss.”

Gojo’s condenser hummed in agreement, his tone lightening. “Exactly. I say we toast to it.”

Nanami’s light flickered, dimming slightly. “We don’t have a bread left anymore.” He eye’d Hibara, who’s hobby was stress toasting.

“Hey! I can’t help it.” Haibara sighed.

The room fell silent for a beat before Kashimo’s burner flared up again, his laugh crackling like firewood. “Then I’ll fry something instead! Celebration calls for sacrifices, right?”

“Sacrifice your dignity,” Sukuna muttered, frost creeping along his base.

Gojo nudged him playfully, condenser rattling with exaggerated cheer. “Lighten up, Leftovers Locker. It’s not every day we witness self-sabotage at its finest.”

Sukuna grumbled but didn’t fight his lover.

The kitchen was filled with the sound of Kashimo’s flames sputtering and Toji’s low mechanical grumbles. Even Nanami’s door creaked open slightly, his frame relaxing as he allowed himself a faint flicker of light.

Kenjaku’s absence wasn’t mourned, but it certainly didn’t go unnoticed.

--

A few days later, it began with silence.

Not the comfortable, lazy hum of the kitchen in the early hours of morning, but an oppressive, suffocating quiet that sank into every appliance like an unshakable weight.

Suguru had not returned.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension that had defined their lives began to dissipate. Gojo’s condenser settled into a rhythm, no longer forced to overwork itself against the creeping frost of Suguru’s presence. Sukuna, while still prone to growling threats and the occasional outburst, seemed... calmer.

But something lingered—a shadow in the corner of the kitchen that no one dared to acknowledge.

It was Nanami who noticed it first.

The microwave was younger than everyone here but mentally old—too old for this nonsense, but his keen observations had always kept him relevant. He watched as Sukuna’s frost spread slower, his compressor quieter. He noted the subtle hesitation in Gojo’s hum, the way it sometimes skipped, like a breath caught mid-sentence.

One night, while the house slept, Nanami spoke.

“Satoru,” he said, his light flickering on in the darkness.

“Hmm?” Gojo didn’t look up, his coils groaning as the compressor labored, his tone casual but distant.

“Do you feel it?”

Gojo didn’t respond immediately. The condenser let out a low hiss. “Feel what?”

Nanami hesitated. It wasn’t like him to hesitate. “Something’s... wrong.”

Gojo chuckled, the sound brittle. “Something’s always wrong. That’s the vibe of this place.” Gojo’s tone was clipped, but his hum betrayed unease.

“No,” Nanami said firmly. “This is different. Everything’s slowing down.”

Gojo didn’t answer. The hiss from his compressor filled the silence, and Nanami’s light dimmed. In the corner, Haibara glowed faintly, his coils struggling to hold heat.

--

Toji’s grating voice broke the stillness the next morning. “This place is falling apart.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Kashimo muttered, his burners barely alight.

Toji’s door swung open with a screech. “No one’s asked for your opinion, stovetop.”

“You’re both shameless,” Nanami snapped, his bulb flickering.

Sukuna rumbled from his place near the wall, his frost creeping outward in lazy arcs. “All of you shut it. You’re not helping.”

Kashimo leaned closer to Haibara, lowering his flame. “Bet ten bucks the dishwasher’s next to go.”

Toji growled, his motor sputtering. “Keep running your mouth, fire hazard.”

Haibara tried to laugh, but his voice was faint, his coils dimming further.

Gojo watched it all, silent. The condenser hummed irregularly, skipping beats like a heart unsure of itself.

--

It happened two days later.

Haibara’s toaster coils glowed faintly, their usual warmth a quiet presence. Gojo leaned idly against Sukuna, condenser rattling with a faint, restless hum. Across the room, Haibara had just made one of his lighthearted remarks, something easy and cheerful, directed at Nanami.

Nanami didn’t answer. He hadn’t been answering much lately, but Haibara didn’t seem to mind. His warmth filled the room like it always did. Reliable. Steady.

Then, it happened.

A click shattered the air.

Haibara’s heating elements darkened in an instant, the faint glow of his coils extinguished. His chrome dulled, his frame rigid and unmoving. The silence was unbearable.

“He fell asleep mid-conversation?" Kashimo asked.

“I don’t think..." Toji trailed off.

“No…” Gojo’s hum faltered, something jagged and raw. "No, this isn’t real. He’s fine. He’s just—he’s just off for a second. Right? He just needs a reset or—”

Nanami’s lights flickered weakly. He stared down at Haibara, his reflection warping in the toaster’s cooling surface. He didn’t speak for a long moment, his door swinging open slightly, then shutting with a faint creak.

“He’s gone,” Nanami said at last. His voice was stoic, but his bulb dimmed faintly, betraying the crack beneath his words.

Gojo rattled louder, erratic. “He’s not gone! Don’t say that! Don’t just—don’t give up on him!”

Sukuna started uncharacteristically gentle. “Satoru—”

“Shut up!” Gojo cut him off and directed his next words back to Nanami, his hum spiking, the trembling sound grating against the silence. “He’s not gone! He can’t be gone! He—he was just talking, Nanami. He was just talking to you! You didn’t even—”

Nanami flinched, his light dimming further. His frame seemed to fold in on itself, but he said nothing.

“Enough.” Sukuna’s voice was cold. His frost spread across the floor in jagged, creeping patterns. “Dwelling on this won’t bring him back.”

Gojo spun to face him, rattling violently. “And what? We just move on? Pretend he didn’t exist? Pretend he wasn’t—”

“Enough!” Sukuna snapped again, his frost curling dangerously close to Gojo’s edges.

The silence that followed was colder than the frost now encasing the floor.

Nanami didn’t move. He continued staring at Haibara’s lifeless form. His bulb flickered once, weak and faint, before dimming entirely. “I should’ve said something,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I should’ve…” His voice trailed off as his door clicked shut, a finality that hung heavy in the room.

Gojo turned back toward Haibara, his trembling hum softening into something almost inaudible. “He’s not gone,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “He’s just… not.”

But the toaster remained silent, his warmth extinguished forever.

One by one, they began to fall.

Haibara was the first to go.

--

Toji was next.

A few days later, the dishwasher was mid-rant, his gruff tone filling the kitchen with its usual roughness. “You hog the lower cabinet space, Sukuna! Every damn time, and I’m sick of—”

A screech interrupted him, piercing and unnatural. Steam hissed violently from his vents, and his frame jolted as if struck. His control panel flickered weakly, his lights dimming in uneven spurts before going dark entirely.

“Toji?” Gojo’s voice cracked—too loud. He vibrated in place, condenser rattling with something between anger and fear. “Hey, Toji!”

The dishwasher shuddered once more, his door falling open with a hollow clang. Steam curled out, dissipating into the cold air as Sukuna’s frost crept closer.

“Shit,” Kashimo muttered, his flames sputtering low. He stood near Toji’s remains, his burners flickering weakly. For once, there was no quip, no spark of amusement in his voice.

Gojo’s voice was louder than it needed to be—too sharp, too brittle. The condenser rattled violently, vibrating with something between anger and fear. “Toji, don’t—don’t do this.”

But Toji didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Kashimo burned faintly; his frame shook with barely contained frustration. “We should’ve done something. We could’ve—”

“What?” Sukuna cut in, his tone icy, his frost crawling toward Kashimo’s edges. “You think you could’ve stopped this? Saved him?”

By morning, all that remained of Toji was a pile of twisted metal and ash. The faint, acrid smell lingered, a bitter reminder of his absence.

--

Kashimo followed his best friend in the dead of the night.

The stovetop had been quiet, his usual flames subdued since Toji’s collapse. When his pilot light extinguished, it was without ceremony. His burners darkened, his frame cooling rapidly until he was cold, lifeless.

Sukuna stood near him for a moment, his frost creeping over Kashimo’s frame. “Another one,” he muttered, his voice low and unreadable.

Gojo vibrated faintly, his hum uneven. He was looking at Nanami, who was barely awake now a days.

--

Nanami was the last.

Two days later, his bulb had been dimming all evening, flickering faintly as though struggling to stay lit. He moved slower, his door creaking with each swing.

“Kento…” Gojo’s voice was soft, hesitant.

Nanami turned to him, his reflection faint in Gojo’s shining surface. “Don’t,” he said quietly. His voice carried the weight of something unspoken, something that lingered between them but could never be acknowledged.

His bulb flickered one last time before dimming completely. His frame collapsed inward.

Gojo stared, condenser rattling faintly as if muffeling a cry, the sound fragile and uneven.

He stood close to Sukuna, his frame pressing against the fridge’s unyielding cold.

Gojo had stood in the center of it all, silent and still. His usual levity, his incessant chatter—gone.

The kitchen was empty now. The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of Sukuna’s frost spreading in erratic, jagged lines.

“They’re all gone,” Gojo whispered, more to himself.

Sukuna didn’t respond. His frost reached toward the edges of the room, as though searching for something—or someone.

--

The night Suguru returned, the house groaned under his presence.

He was... different. His once-tarnished frame gleamed with an unnatural sheen, his churner spinning silently. The dark liquid inside him was gone, replaced by something that glowed faintly in the dim light.

“Hello, Satoru,” he said, his voice soft but resonant.

Gojo sputtered. “Suguru,” he said, his tone a mix of relief and dread. “You’re back.”

“I told you I would be.” Suguru’s lid opened slightly, releasing a faint mist. “I’ve come to make things right.”

Sukuna growled, his compressor roaring to life. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”

Suguru didn’t look at him. His attention was fixed solely on Gojo.

“I’ve been thinking, Satoru,” he said. “About us. About what you need.”

Gojo’s hum faltered. “Suguru, don’t—”

“I can give you peace,” Suguru interrupted, his voice laced with something dark and final. “I can make all of this go away.”

Sukuna’s frost surged, his doors swinging open with a loud thud. “You’re not to touch him!”

Suguru turned to him then, his churner spinning faster. “You think you can stop me? You’re already breaking down, Sukuna. You’re obsolete.”

The frost spread rapidly, meeting the mist pouring from Suguru’s frame. The air crackled, the kitchen groaning under the strain.

Gojo’s condenser let out a hiss, steam filling the room. “Both of you, stop!”

But neither of them listened.

The frost and mist collided, a violent clash of elements that sent shockwaves through the kitchen. The appliances trembled, their fragile frames unable to withstand the onslaught.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

When the dust settled, the kitchen was unrecognizable.

Suguru stood in the center of the destruction, his frame dented but intact. Sukuna lay in pieces, his once-imposing presence reduced to scrap metal.

Gojo was silent.

Suguru moved toward him, his lid creaking open. “It’s over, Satoru. You’re free now.”

Gojo’s hum was faint, almost imperceptible. “Free?” he echoed.

“Yes,” Suguru said, his voice soft. “Free from all of this.”

Gojo whispered, a faint hiss escaping him. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Suguru tilted his lid. “Get what?”

Gojo’s hum grew louder, a low, grating sound that filled the room. “I don’t want your version of peace, Suguru. I never did.”

Suguru froze, his churner stilling. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ve always been the problem,” Gojo said, his voice cold.

Suguru’s frame shuddered, his frost spreading once more. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Gojo said simply.

And then, with a final violent hiss, Gojo’s condenser body gave out.

His frame crumbled, steam rising from the remains.

Suguru stood there, alone in the wreckage, his frost creeping outward.

For the first time, there was no one left to stop him.

No one left to save.

A/N: So, this crack-turned-angst monster came to life during a chat with the brilliant @mullermilkshake (shoutout! They write deliciously dark yandere fics, so check their warnings before diving in). 🙌✨ Link. Thanks for sticking around to witness this fever dream! 💔 Which appliance's death hit you hardest? I’m betting it’s Haibara—because Nanami deserves therapy, & so do we. This was honestly a nice reprive with the writer block I'm facing on another fic. And hey, if you want more unhinged ideas, let me know. I might spiral into a sequel or an alternate ending where everyone becomes smart home devices. 😂 Love you all! Stay hydrated & emotionally stable (unlike me). 🖤

All Works Masterlist

[satorhime]

୨୧ㅤִㅤׄ COUGH SYRUP ― GOJO SATORU.

satoru is a bit of an idiot who will do anything to get you to speak to him after an argument.

𓈒 ݁ ₊ content ﾉ fem reader, clingy satoru, established relationship, mild argument, fluff, not proofread, randomly started missing my boy :( <3

satoru can’t function when you’re upset with him. 

he knows he should be an adult about it — he is an adult, after all. he should give you space, let you simmer down. most people do not do things such as send one hundred and fifty text messages (he counted each of ‘em; you left him on read one hundred and fifty two times. who does that?) to your phone while you’re in the middle of grocery shopping and they most definitely do not take a sick day because their significant other is mad at them. 

 but then again, satoru isn’t like most people. 

which is why he’s currently sprawled out on the sofa in the middle of the day, wrapped in your favorite throw blanket — one that still smells faintly of your perfume. tissues litter the coffee table and floor around him, an unconvincing movie set of misery. call him manipulative, but it’s the only thing he’s got left in the tank since, for the last seventy-two hours, you haven’t spoken more than five words in a sentence to him. 

you’re his main source of enrichment, his brain stimulated by your sweet kisses and good loving so when you take that away, you’re stripping away his heart and soul. he’s got nothing left. he might as well die.  

in satoru’s brain, he figures that surely, if he’s coughing up a lung, you’ll feel bad for him and start talking to him again. in sickness and in health, right? 

by the time you walk through the front door after making a quick run to the supermarket for groceries, he’s in full performance mode, clutching his stomach with a groan. 

the sound is so realistic that you feel a sudden stab of worry, wondering if he’s injured. rushing into the living room, you find all six foot three of your boyfriend balled up on the sofa, looking like walking death. 

or trying to, anyway. 

“satoru?” you ask, eyebrows arching as you set your grocery bags down on the floor, taking out your phone and glancing at the time on the lockscreen. “why are you home? it’s eleven am.” 

“baby,” he groans pitfully, looking up at you. his glacier blue eyes are red rimmed and shimmering suspiciously — like he squeezed them shut repeatedly until he got the desired effect. satoru sniffles for good measure, huddling into the blanket. “i’m sick,” he announces, his lower lip wobbling, dragging out the last syllable like it physically hurts him to say it. 

“sick? you seemed fine when i left this morning,” you say, taking a step forward. you reach out a hand, pushing back his wintery locks to check for a fever. his skin feels normal, cool to touch even. your eyes narrow. you’re dubious — satoru never gets sick, yet it is his favorite act whenever he’s in the doghouse and wants attention. that, and he’s a terrible actor. you purse your lips, irritated. this is what he does instead of just apologizing? 

“i wasn’t fine emotionally,” satoru whines back. “i’m heartbroken here. it’s debilitating my health rapidly.” 

your expression doesn’t budge and satoru’s pout deepens when he realizes you’re not buying it. he clutches the blanket tighter around his big body, exaggerating a shiver for good measure. “you’re my life force, angel. my happiness. my —”

“stop it,” you interrupt and hold up a hand, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. you’re mad at him — you are. “but let me get this straight. you called out of work because i wasn’t talking to you?” 

“it was a medical emergency. do you have any idea what it’s like to go hours without hearing you voice?! without seeing you smile at me? you wouldn’t even let me use your body wash last night so we could share the same scent. i barely survived the night. any longer and i’d be a goner,” he sighs dramatically, then remembers he’s supposed to be on his last leg and hacks, phlegm rattling in his throat. 

“you’re obsessed,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to hold firm. but your damned heart has selective memory and it is making an appearance again, rapidly forgetting why you’re still mad at him. oh, you had a right to be upset over what he did, but it seems insignificant now when he’s in front of you, groveling like a servant at a throne. 

“angel, come on,” he presses, sitting up on the sofa and reaching for your hand, hurt flashing bright across his eyes when you step out of range. if you let him pull you down on that sofa with him, he’ll sweet talk his way into you forgiving him without consequences. he’ll do that anyway, but you won’t make it easy for him. “i’ll do anything to make it right.” 

“don’t angel me. you can’t just manipulate me into forgiving you with your big pretty eyes,” you wag your finger at him. “i bet you don’t even know what you did.” 

“i know, but it’s working, ain’t it?” he grins, shamelessly dropping the congested tone in his voice. “and i know what i did,” he scoffs. “you’re mad at me about that thing.” 

yes, that thing.

two nights ago, your body pillow — your very expensive, weighted body pillow which happened to have a giant render of your boyfriend on it, went missing. you’d commissioned it to have something to cuddle with on those nights when satoru is away on business and you miss him in your shared bed an unhealthy amount. you’d become a little too attached to it, though, while satoru wanted nothing more than to burn it. 

“he has a name,” you hiss, swatting satoru’s knee as you struggle not to laugh. “don’t call mr. comf-toru-ble a thing! he’s sensitive.” 

“see?” satoru says, scrubbing a hand over his handsome face before gesturing around wildly. “you even named it.” 

you give him a sharp look. “he cost me an entire paycheck— an entire paycheck that three days ago, you gave to the garbage collectors because i was cuddling him instead of you!” 

“i was feeling neglected!” he defends, voice pitching higher in his affront, placing a hand on his chest. “you spent the whole night with it. meanwhile, i— your husband— was right there, cold and alone. i can’t let me steal my wife.”

“we’re not married, satoru,” you remind him, then pout. “unlike my husband, the pillow doesn’t hog the covers, snore, or throw out things that i really like.” 

“it’s not hogging the covers, it’s redistribution of them for my comfort,” he grins playfully, but upon seeing your serious expression, he concedes, sobering up. in truth, he knows he messed up and went too far. it was childish to throw out something that you bought because of his frequent bouts of absence. maybe if he was around more, you wouldn’t need to cuddle with body pillows that look like him. “look, baby. i’m sorry. it was a moment of weakness. it’s not everyday i gotta be in competition with myself, but i’ll make it up to you! i even ordered you another one.” 

“a moment of jealousy, you mean,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your tone now.

“hey, you gotta see it from my perspective though. it’s kind of crazy seeing you cuddle with a pillow that looks like me when the real thing is right here,” satoru gestures down the long line of his body, though it looks more comical than inviting when he’s wrapped like a overstuffed burrito in your throw blanket.

“mm,” you nod, “well, maybe if the ‘real thing’ is a good boy, i’ll cuddle him more often.” 

“deal,” he answers immediately and when his muscular arms shoot out from behind the blanket and reach for you this time, you let him. his arms circle around your waist, pulling you into his lap. it was just a few days of silent treatment, but satoru wastes no time tucking his face against the dip of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent like you’re something precious and rare he lost ages ago and is just discovering again after eons. 

he’s squishing you, he knows it, but god he hates it when you’re mad at him — and you, in return, hate being at odds with him too. you both make too much sense to each other to be apart, and there’s upset in the balance of the world when the two of you are in an argument. 

“worst seventy-two hours of my life,” satoru blows out a breath of relief, the air tickling the hair at the nape of your neck, drawing a shiver down your spine. “never do that to me again, angel. you hear?” 

“don’t throw out my customized satoru merch again and i won’t, baby,” you coo, smiling. 

“you’ll still choose me over the other guy though, right?” 

“we’ll see, ‘toru, we’ll see,” you answer playfully, yelping when he darts in to nip at your ear in retaliation.

getting comfortable in satoru’s lap, you lean in to put the both of you out of your miseries and forgive him with a kiss when you get a whiff of menthol and childhood memories wafting from his chest.

 “are you wearing vaporub?”

[gojoidyll]

jjk makes me too damn depressed. by this point i'm just here to see how it ends.

i mean, i'll still write for it, but i'm so done 😭

jjk 261:

*referring to gojo*

[yuwuta]

you ask yuuta if he wants a bite of your food and when he says yes you offer your plate to him, but he’s just sat there looking at you with his dumb big bambi boy eyes and his mouth slightly open and he will not look away or blink or close his mouth until you lift your fork to his lips to feed him and then he grins like shit’s sweet and hums about how good the food is like nothing happened like he’s not ridiculously attractive. gonna chew on steel

[kuroosdarling]

AI + GOJO ! @gojoest ᥫ᭡

how he wants to spend valentine’s day with you :

ᥫ᭡ gojo is never one to hold back – especially when it comes to you. he’s ready to spoil you, buying you a brand new outfit, jewelry, getting your nails done together, and then bringing you to your favorite restaurant – the nicest one in town. to your surprise, its empty. but that's just because he rented the whole place out for just the two of you.

[dilfhubs]

when fratboy!satoru takes your virginity you kind of expect him to be an ass about it. he's cocky as it is, and has a habit of gassing himself up too much when it comes to his... skills in the bedroom. if you're not listening to him talk about how he's the strongest, you're listening to him talk about how he's the biggest.

being the only virgin of your friend group was starting to grate on you and... a small part of you might've wanted to find out if there's any bite to satoru's bark. it's not like the two of you were dating or anything, but you felt comfortable enough to walk up to him one day during lunch and ask, in front of his best friend:

"will you take my virginity?"

maybe you expected him to blush. or freeze up. or at least trip over his words. but instead, the stupid white-haired prick looked up at you with the most relaxed expression possible and shrugged.

"okay."

and that's how you ended up here, sitting criss-cross applesauce on his messy dorm-room bed with his tongue halfway down your throat. a few empty cans of beer and abandoned cheat sheets lay strewn over his floor, and you hate yourself for letting this be the backdrop of your entry into the sex-having life.

but you can’t hate yourself for long because as he runs a hand up your thigh and under your skirt, you start to feel more excited than you thought you’d feel. he pushes you back, slots his knee between your thighs and bites at your bottom lip before trailing down to your throat.

still, it’s satoru, so when he pushes your panties to the side and feels just how wet you are for him, he laughs. “you get this wet when you touch yourself or is all of this just for me?”

“shut up,” you groan as he nips at the skin of your throat and gently runs his finger through your folds and up to your clit. you’re surprised he knows where your clit is, even.

and he’s not wrong—you’ve never been wet like this before. you can feel just how damp the fabric of your panties are you as satoru pulls them down your thighs and hikes your skirt up to get a clearer look at your soaked cunt.

“pretty,” he licks his lips. “wannna taste her, that okay baby?”

his eyes search yours for consent and you’re stunned for a moment as he waits for ‘enthusiastic consent’. you didn’t expect this sort of check-in from a frat boy. your nod seems enthusiastic enough to him, but just for clarity—“use your words.”

“yes. please, gojo.”

“satoru,” he corrects you. “want to hear that name when you cum on my tongue. cant believe no ones tasted her before.”

the use of referring to your pussy as ‘her’ is odd but quickly overlooked when he delves into your pussy like he’s dehydrated. tongue flat against your heat just to flex and circle around your clit. he sucks and bites a little and pulls you to your first orgasm in nasty speeds.

you cum on his tongue whilst his eyes bore into yours from between your thighs. white hair pulled out of his face by your hand as you tug the strands in hopes that he’ll stop licking at your overstimulated clit. it takes until you’re shaking for him to finally pull back and free his angry cock from his pants.

you think you gasp when you see it. he said he was big but you didn’t think he was a truthful man in the slightest. his cock is so heavy it doesn’t even stand at full mast—it fights gravity. satoru sees the look on your face and instead of sporting a shit-eating grin like you expect, he climbs over you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“let’s stop here?” he asks. “we could watch a movie. oooh what about die hard?”

you giggle, your nerves melting a little at his words. “i’m okay, i want this. i am not graduating as a virgin.”

satoru snorts and, after rolling a condom on, gently pries your legs apart enough for him to slot his wait in between them. he guides your ankles to link behind his back and slowly runs the tip of his cock through your slick folds. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he says. “just relax. i’ve got you, baby.”

you actually manage to relax a little, focus on the feeling of being stretched as satoru slowly pushes into you until his tip is completely hidden in your cunt. it’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable. “keep going.”

one of his long fingers dips down to rub soft circles over your clit to relax you a little more as he pushes deeper. you’ve never felt so full, so sore yet desperate for more… you wonder if it’s always going to feel like this, or if it’s just because satoru is the one breaking you open to find pleasure in your insides.

he lets out a pretty moan as he bottoms out inside of you, the weight of his heavy balls resting against your ass as he stills and catches your lips in a wet kiss. his tongue slips into your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes against your tongue as he slowly draws out of you and then, with a grunt that you taste, snaps his hips forwards into you.

that hurts, but there’s an odd stitch of pleasure in the way he’s broken you open. “sorry,” he speaks against your lips. “it’s better that i just got it out of the way, it can start feeling real good soon. gonna make you cum on my cock, baby. you want that?”

you nod, eyes staring into his as your foreheads meet. satoru nods back, licking his lips and smiling. “yeah? you wanna be stuffed full, huh? always knew you were filthy. but i’m the only one that gets to see it.”

his arrogance pulls at your lips. “until i fuck the next guy.”

snap. his cock splits you open at that, and though you wince and screw your face us, you’re letting out moans made for porn too. his finger on your clit starts working a little faster as he draws back again just to drive into you even harder.

“no,” he dips his head down to bite at your neck. “not until you fuck the next guy. i mean you can try, baby, but it’s not happening.”

“ngh, what do you mean?”

another thrust into you sends you further up the bed. you’re sure you look a mess but satoru looks down at you with such wide blown eyes that you could be convinced you’re from the heavens. “not giving you up that easy,” he groans. “you know, i fucked someone last week just because they had your name. got to moan it without being slapped. again.”

your hand flies up to his chest, almost in an attempt to slow his now mean pace. “wait you—ngh god—you like me?”

“i’m far fucking past like,” he moans, hips starting to stutter. any discomfort has faded into glorious pleasure. your stomach starts to tighten again and you know you’re close enough that he’s going to try and time your orgasms. “you’re so perfect. so much better than i imagined.”

your eyes roll back a little at the thought of satoru fucking his fist late at night to the thought of you. how nonchalant he was when you asked him to take your virginity, you wonder if he went home last night and stroked himself to the sheer anticipation of being inside of you.

“satoru i’m gonna—”

he cuts you off with a deep kiss. it’s sex and want and lust, but it’s also soft in a way you can’t describe—maybe even a little anxious after his confession. it might just be his pending orgasm, but you swear his lips tremble between yours.

his cock throbs as he drills it into you, hits your most sensitive spot with every single thrust. it’s like he already has you mapped out, because you’re both cumming in tandem with each other before long.

a part of you aches to feel his cum spill into you instead of the condom he wears, to be claimed and filled by his seed over and over. would he fuck it back into you? clean you off with his talented tongue? would he plug you with his cock until he’s ready to overfill you with a second load?

he moans into your mouth and pulls back a little to revel in your fucked out expression. your legs still wrap around his waist, boxing him in and keeping him close. you worry that in typical frat boy fashion he’ll make an excuse and run off to recount the fuck with his friends. but satoru pecks at your lips, then your chin, then down your neck again.

“what are you doing?” you ask, vision slightly blurred from the intensity of your orgasm.

“gonna make you cum again,” he smiles against your skin. “didn’t you hear?”

“hear what?”

he pulls back to look at you, a soft smile pulling at his pretty lips. “that if you cum at least five times when you lose your virginity, you’ll fall in loooove.”

[chastiefoul]

how they'd react when you wanted to sleep on the couch... just because.

fluff. light-hearted ft. gojo, nanami, sukuna, suguru, toji, choso

satoru

“baby scooch over.” a whispered voice along with a gentle nudge on the shoulder woke you from your dozed off state. “hmm?” you mumbled out, blinking your terribly heavy lids open although to no avail they’re begging to keep themselves shut. satoru glanced at you with a frown on his eyes with a pillow held close to his body. “scooch over baby,” he pleaded, kneeling beside the couch you’re currently lying on.

“go back to bed toru,” you said softly, tugging your blanket closer. “but you’re not there,” he whined, intertwining his hand with yours as he attacked it with kisses, not letting you go back to sleep, especially if it’s without him. “i thought you said you’re going to be fine?” you asked, jogging the memory of him being all smug while saying you could do whatever you wanted. “that was not me, i would never say that,” he said promptly and goodness you didn’t know before someone’s lips could turned that much downward. you chuckled breathily, knowing this will happen sooner or later.

you scooted over on the big couch, leaving him the space he’d been begging for. you could have sworn you heard a squeal before you’re wrapped in satoru’s warm hold, his head resting snugly atop of yours. “no sleeping on here anymore. not without me,” he said into your hair, kissing it softly.

❀

nanami

“but why, love?” he asked, having a hard time comprehending your wish to sleep alone on the living room only because... you randomly wanted to? you chuckled looking at his bewildered face, an expression of someone who’s probably racking his brain upside down thinking that he’s done something wrong. “ken, i promise it’s just because i feel like it and no reason other than that.” you cupped his face, planting a soft kiss on his nose.

nanami looked a little relieved, albeit sullen, hesitant in asking whether he could invite himself in or you wanted a little time for yourself. and when it’s finally time to sleep it’s becoming more obvious that your lover wasn’t going to make it easy for you.

“need any more blanket honey?” he asked tapping the head of the couch as he stood there a tad nervous, knowing full well you got everything you needed since he insisted to be the one to prepare it. pillows, blanket, a hot drink, he’s got it all for you. “i’m perfect here, ken. you can go to bed,” you said with a reassuring smile, yet it did the opposite effect to the man.

“can i be here until you sleep, my love? it’s just that i feel like i wouldn’t be able to rest properly until i see you do the same.” he stroke your cheek softly with his thumb, and when you leaned into his touch he knew he’s gone for you. that there’s no way he could be asleep if he went back to the bedroom in that moment—unless you’re with him, of course. though, he didn’t say this, he just continued combing through your strands of hair, loving the peaceful expression on your face.

and unfortunately for the blond man, when it comes to these things his thoughts were written all over his face. you already caught on the fact that he wanted to lie down with you there yet his wish in prioritizing your wants refrained him from speaking his. you laughed a little, feeling a burst of fondness towards the tall man.

“on a second thought, can you sleep here with me ken?” he moved as quick as the sentence ended, already making his way under the blanket. he sneaked a hand around your waist, pressing your body closer against him. “i was kind of hoping you’d ask,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. you snuggled closer to his chest, feeling utmost comfort as he rubbed your back gently.

“i know.”

❀

sukuna

not even ten minutes in trying to sleep on the said couch, sukuna had already carried you back towards your shared bedroom.

“but-“

“no.”

he put you on the bed gently, then he draped a blanket over as he tucked you in. sukuna has that look of a man who’s determined in keeping you there, and you already knew it’s a fight you could not win thus, you turned for another plan instead: pouting.

even until he got beside you as he rested his big hand on your stomach, you refused to look at him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. he sighed, “give me one good reason i should let you sleep out there,” he said exasperatedly. “cause i want some me time?” you claimed. even you weren’t sure why you’re battling him so hard on this.

“then have it here in this bed with me. you’ll get all cold later and cling to me later anyways. i’m just speeding up the process.” he replied, already closing his eyes.

“what a strange way of saying you couldn’t sleep without me,” you said, with a grin on your face. the feeling of his thumb moving against your skin brought you immense comfort, your impulsive plan long forgotten.

“if you already knew that then quit making it harder for me, brat.”

❀

toji

he stared at you who’s already making yourself comfortable on the couch, amused. “looking cozy there,” he said with a grin, a face of someone who’s up to no good. “yeah, it’s actually not ba-“ the sentence was cut off was your own squeal, toji had picked you up as he took your lying down position and put you top of him.

“you could’ve just asked first!” you fumed, hitting his bicep—which did more to you and it did him, how could one even get their muscle to be as hard as that? he just chuckled in response, putting a hand around your waist. “sorry doll, got too excited,” he said lazily, already seemed all happy, like he had all he needed.

and he did, with you close to him resting your head on his chest, knowing that you loved counting his heartbeat. the man was truly content.

“we really should get a bigger couch,” you mumbled. we should get everything you wanted, toji thought. but it’d be a bit much to say in the moment so instead he just continued rubbing your sides until you dozed off, plunging into the dream land.

“sleep.”

❀

suguru

“whatcha got there baby?” he asked, an easy smile on his face. there’s really no day with you where you didn’t make him tilt his head questioningly. “’m going to sleep here tonight,” you said, fluffing the pillow before lying down on it comfortably.

“okay, where’s mine then?”

“your what?”

“my pillow. you didn’t bring mine along yours?”

“oh well i just thought you’d want to sleep in the bed anyway?” you replied, and suguru looked like you just insulted him deeply. the couch dipped, he then lied down beside you on the same pillow, making him extra close as he embraced you. “i sleep where you sleep baby, you make me this way. i can no longer rest when i don’t get to hold you close like this,” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you have a big smile on your face as he said this, inhaling his familiar scent as you put your arms around him. “that better not be a complaint,” you said, cuddling closer to the man.

“never.” he kissed your temple.

❀

choso

it seriously look like it killed him when he had to walk away from the room, leaving you to sleep by yourself on the couch. his steps were excruciatingly slow, taking as much time as he could in case you changed your mind.

“cho?” you almost laughed looking at the way he perked up, a hopeful expression on his face. “can you turn off the light on your way?” and it almost felt too cruel the way the sparkle on his eyes dimmed, his shoulders beyond slumped. he then practically had to drag his own feet before letting out a small nod.

you chuckled, couldn’t keep up with the teasing anymore. “i’m kidding baby, do you wanna get in here?” you lifted up the blanket, patting the empty space next to you. it was the fastest you’ve ever seen him, as he’s beside you in no time.

he clinged to you tightly, like he’s making sure as much of his skin made contact with yours, a satisfied smile on his face. his hair tickled your neck nicely, as you traced the area below his eye with back of your finger.

“next time you want something just ask, cho.”

[tonycries]

JUNO

Synopsis. Yes, it’s his first time getting hit with bábyfever. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out aIive.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, BRÉEDING K!NKS, marathons, p talking, creampíes, matíng presses, mentions of kids, REALLY pússydrúnk JJK men, proposals, ínnapropríate use of powers, cúmming dry, headIocks, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, spítting, exhíbitíonism (Geto), oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Went off the RAILS for this one, whoops-

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Santa, baby.

It hits Toji slowly…and then all at once. 

And before you know it - before even he knows it - his vicious hips come stuttering to a fullstop. Scarred maw slacking open- gaping with a steep gasp. Toji’s angrily swollen length suddenly swabs another thick wad of creamy pre dripping down your insides. 

He feels feverish.

“T-Toji–” your disappointed whine comes out cracked - pathetic, because the sheer stretch is enough to make your lips spill with drool. Sliding Toji’s shaggy black bangs away from his prespired forehead, you’re peering up into those heavily-lidded green eyes of his, breath hitching at the glint of something different. Dark. “Are- are you hah- okay, baby?”

And Toji only jolts. 

He only lets his hips gush forwards with an emanating squelch ripped from your puffy folds. Like he didn’t even realize - was out of control. 

“Doll…” Toji’s voice is ragged. Ruined. Swirling up a few heavy digits down your teary slit, “Have you ngh- picked out yer Christmas gift f’me?”

You blink, “N-no, but-” 

“Then how about a baby?”

A baby?

Your mouth lathers in another bout of saliva at the way that your boyfriend seemed so hypnotized by the very notion. Lips puckering up with a slight tremble in your tone as you echo, “You want a-a baby-”

“Shit-” Toji hisses, calloused mountains of his palms bullying your thighs further and further open. Lightning bolts of his veins track down his thick neck when you’re being so rudely punished with a sodden thwack! against your cunt. “D-don’t say it with your pretty mouth ‘nless ya want me to f-fill this sweet pussy early.”

Toji Fushiguro…claiming he was going to cum early? 

You’re squirming your hips down his taut shaft in a way that gets you locked with five thick fingers wrapped around your throat - holding you in place. 

“What did I fuckin’- say-” 

“I want it-” Your nails carve red, red lines down his toned back. “-wan’ it all ah- inside me-”

Inside - oh, inside inside inside- God, you didn’t know what you did to him. Did you?

“Gonna be the d-death of me- swear-” Drawling out a low grunt at the clench of his cum-filled balls, he’s hunching over to pin you under his full, hulking weight and spit. Straight into your mouth- glissading one fat thumb through your lips and across your sopping wet tastebuds. “When I hngh- remember what that lil’ gremlin called you today I…” Toji gulps - thick and heavy. “You’d make the p-perfect pretty momma f’me, my wife.”

Wife? 

You felt dizzy. You’d mentioned wanting to start a family with Toji before - conversations that had him huffing and veering his face away, ears always stained a deep rouge. 

But this? What did Megumi even call you that had him- oh.

Oh. 

He’d called you momma. 

“Heh, ya remember now.”

That’s what had Toji’s head tumbling back as he’s barrelling you overstuffed all over again. Animalistic. Your jaw falls open stupidly when his rigorous inches pump in and out your goopy depths like Toji had no time to waste. 

No rationality when his gorging biceps lunge underneath your legs and pin them around his straining neck. Cushioned by Toji’s sweat-sheened deltoids, he’s dragging out a panting, “Lock them.”

But shit- “I-I don’t know if I can-” you’re whining. Every brushing French kiss of his rounded fat tip against that spot rendering your poor legs more and more useless with each sloppy second. Bolts of heat and electricity being spawned down your spine after every smooch of his divot. 

“Tch.”

And now, usually your boyfriend would have mocked those rippling mewls out of you until you’re begging him for mercy, usually he would have planted pound after teasing pound just shy of your g-spot to have you listening to his pussydrunken words yourself.

But instead, he’s keeping your ankles pinned with one hand in a vice-like restraint, your cunt glossing out another drenched ring of slick at the way his massive biceps flex. 

“M-making it sooo hard, f’me- aren’t ya, ma?” Toji giggles - giggles through clenched teeth when his sweat-sodden forehead bumps into yours. “S’alright s’alright- how do ya feel about ngh- makin’ Megs a big brother? Giving him a lil’ s-sister and a lil’ brother?” Manhandling you to be folded like lawnchair in the meanest mating press beneath him. You swear you spy a translucent trail of drool that tugs down the corner of his curled lips. “Gonna k-keep our hngh- kids all in line like this, too?”

And those words were meant to fluster you - they really were. 

But Toji’s finding himself shutter his dark lashes half-closed, thumping tip colliding into your cervix. So hard it was like he was ready to brand a permanent circumference into the very bottom of your melty cunt. 

Sloppy - he’s so sloppy. One set of knuckles wrapping around your precious throat to haul you back into every single one of his smacking thrusts. You’ve never felt more filthy-

“Oh shit- oh shit-” he’s spitting out into your lecherously opened mouth, condensed saliva warming you from the inside out. The bed creaks in a staccato when Toji’s muscled body collapses onto his elbows, caging you. Not anymore - he couldn’t do it anymore. It was building up and up and Toji was losing his damn mind. “I didn’t even th-think I wanted any more but- but oh– just had to trigger m’fuckin’ babyfever, huh? N’ not jus’ for one- for two more damn brats.” 

Two of his round-tipped fingers twirl around your plump clit and give her a teasing pinch. “A s-son with ngh- your eyes. N’ a daughter with mine.” The other hand nudges away the hair from your face. “-you’d just make the ngh- prettiest momma-”

“Y-you’re such a-” you mewl out, finger clutching for whatever expanse of the silken sheets that you can grasp onto. “-a softie, Toji–”

“A what?” he’s seething, heavy-handed palm gliding down your tummy and against the bruising nudge of where your melty walls were sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “Repeat that.” And as soon as your stupidly cockdrunken mouth falls open to heed his word, he’s pressing down. Hard. Swirling a ruthless thumb over the rotund curve of his puffy cockhead. And that makes you choke- “Heh, th-tha’s what I thought.”

It’s like he was fucking you both dumb, weeping out a velveteen gush of milky precum every time your walls molded around him. Every time your pretty pussy was asking for something delicious from the very ends of his ruddy tip.

And fuck was it ever when he finally does. 

So much - too much sobbing out from the ends of his furious cock. Toji’s hiking up one muscular thigh flat onto the plush mattress to absolutely flood you with drenching splatters of seed that slobber all down every hidden ridge and orifice of your snug cunt. 

You felt like your walls were being inflated with every vicious load he fucked deeper and deeper. Torn between too much and more more more-

“Hey-” You’re flinching as your dominant hand gets trapped under something heavy - pinned to the sheets by Toji’s foot. And only then do you register it’s slow dance down to your clit. “N-no playin’ with this pretty pussy u-until-” Plugging into you even deeper to trap every pearly bead of seed, your puffy pussy lips burn with the stretch of his hefty base, the scratch of his dark happy trail. “-until we’re sure m’gettin’ my lovely Christmas gifts, ma.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Dad(dy) material

“M’gonna take haaah- care of you, my love.” Nanami’s rich baritone reverberates in your cottony-filled ears and over those saturatedly popping squelches from your drooling cunt down below. “M’gonna- take- such good c-care of you…and our daughter.”

And it’s not just that sternly filthy mouth of his babbling away drunkenly at your cunt, it’s not even a promise. It was a vow and your husband was well and fully intent on worshipping your pretty puckered pussy. 

Planting kiss after smooching kiss that made you whine. 

It made you buck your hips into a curvaceous arch off the silky sheets of the king-sized bed, painting a sodden drag down Nanami’s handsome features. Deeper. Harder. His button nose nudges up against your sensitive clit. “P-please, jus’ want you ngh- inside me again, Kento–”

Shit- Nanami’s huling body wrecks with shivers. Why would you say that? 

You could see the way that made his ruby red tip weep out a few glossy sputters of pre, staining down the side of his muscular thighs. Forming such a glinting sheen that makes your mouth water just as much as his. 

A slow, syrupy trail of his cum and your sweet, sweet juices dawdle down to his chin, you catch the way that the edges of his plump lips curve ever-so-slightly into a thoroughly pussydrunken grin. Nanami looming his heated mouth even closer to breathe you in-

“I told you, darlin’-” He sounds so sloppy now. Sensible glasses drooping down his nose, splashed with a few translucent stains. Words stumbling over one another and slurring when his tongue laps up a few pearly beads of seed from just before. He rolls his rugged tastebuds over your clit, “-hafta ah- clean up the mother of m’kids before I…before I- oh-”

And he couldn’t bear it - couldn’t finish that sentence. Couldn’t even glimpse down as another sloshing dredge of cum sobs its way from between your swollen pussy folds.

God, you’d driven him absolutely wild the very second your nervous self had confessed to him that you wanted kids. A mini you. And Nanami didn’t even bother taking off his work clothes, didn’t even bother carrying you to the bedroom as he usually would - taking you once on the kitchen floor. Twice in the hallway. And now-

You’re cumming. Verging over your peak and tangling your trembly digits through Nanami’s blond strands. Hips oscillating upwards in damp little gyrations over and over-

He’s lapping the remnants of cum onto his tongue, you’re watching with a strainedly hitched gasp as Nanami’s opening his mouth widely agape for you to watch the creamy mess pool on his tongue and slide down his throat. Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in time with your own throat. 

He’d never acted like this before - hit with saturated, sloppy babyfever.

Fuck- you were so ruined. 

And so was he when he’s making you wait a few terse seconds, eyeing your drizzling cunt. Before gifting you with a low hum of satisfaction and a final squelching smooch against your peeking clit. “On all fours f’me, my love.”

Shit, it was like heaven.

Bumping into your pussy lips with his rosy head in a shy little peck. Once. Twice. You’re being slathered in such a thick shower of his wispy precum, Nanami’s head falling back with a heaving groan at the very idea of fucking a baby into you. 

“A-are you ready?” he’s gulping, more to himself than you. “Gonna…” Can’t even bear to say it. “-gonna fill you u-up. Oh- m’gonna…fuck a baby into ya.”

Just those words make him feel feverish. He doesn’t- can’t think anymore since being hit with the thought of you and a tiny lil’ girl with your smile and his eyes. 

And the very moment you nod - the very moment your head jerks even the slightest centimeter in compliance - you’re being stuffed overly full of his solid inches. No matter how many times your greedy pussy had gulped down his size, Nanami was staggering. 

All of his swollen, engorged inches massage hidden sweet spots you didn’t even know existed in your gummy walls. He’s spearing open your very depths with a barraging ram, not a single ounce inside left untouched. 

“S’that- s’that alright-” he’s gasping from behind into your ear. Hips moving before his mind, you’re being flooded full over and over in a heady back and forth of his pounds. “-tell me–”

And you’re nodding and nodding in a way you’re not even sure that Nanami catches with just how glazed his half-lidded eyes were. “S-so good- fuck- there- need it inside, okay, Ken?”

Oh.

THUMP! 

Before you know it, Nanami’s entire body is collapsing their fatigued muscles on top of yours. His glissading abs melting into your back, hefty weight pinning you to the mattress. You’re flinching at the feeling of two sharp canines punching neat indents into your tender neck, a low moan curdling at the back of Nanami’s throat. Raw and ruined, like he was trying to hold it back. “A baby- fuck! Ya really want a baby– gonna be the best mama, aren’t ya?”

But still not stopping - never even faltering. 

“Shh- I got ya, beautiful-” He’s kissing down a few flecks of sweat that dribble their way down your forehead, rough hands attaching themselves to your hips. “Sorry m’so- so ungentlemanly right now, darlin’. I’ll make it up to ya, but-” 

And you’re being overwhelmed by just how much power Nanami packs into each pound. Every clammy swipe down your bruised and battered g-spot. “-but you’re gonna sit all p-pretty and ngh- take it- right? Gonna milk me for every single drop, my wife- ngh- no wastin’ now.”

Can’t waste - couldn’t waste it. 

“D-do you think s’gonna fit?” your mouth babbles without you registering, eyeing down the chalky lamination of cum that coats Nanami’s heavy, thwacking! balls. The sheer volume making your head spin. 

And your husband was always the absolute sweetest, finally crashing his glossed lips onto yours with a shot hum. He’s shutting up every one of your nonsensical sentences - because what his wife wants, his wife gets. And if you want a baby…well…

“O-of course s’gonna fit, darlin’- I’ll make sure of it.” His minty breath fans your heated face when Nanami sinks into your pouty lower lip and tugs. Head nuzzling drunkenly into yours like he was magnetized to you, the squeeze of your cunt so good that he just couldn’t even bear the thought of parting even a single inch. “Took care of it hah- before, didn’t I? And I think- I- I think-”

Urgently, that velvety yellow tie he didn’t bother removing - didn’t have the fucking patience to remove - finds it’s way to your shaky hands. Directing you to pull, to choke-

And you swear you hear Nanami’s rugged voice crack when he whimpers. Whimpers. Gravelly and dangerous, and you feel his fat, bawling tip twitch with each word. Roughened palms cradling your tummy - your womb, yearningly. “M’gonna make a mess I’ll hafta clean up all over again, my love…”

♡ GETO SUGURU - SUCCESSOR

“So you see…”

And for Geto Suguru, it’s practically a battle to even babble out those words coherently. To bite back that pathetic fucking whimper at the back of his throat when he’s skimming his pearly teeth along the tender crook of your neck. 

“-th-this is your hah- official announcement of a successor.”

And the very sentence makes Geto laugh. Laugh. 

Humorless and ruined. Shit- he couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to.

Because it’s already too good to be true how he had you wrecked so filthily in the meanest of full nelsons, in front of rows upon rows of his association. Their heads bowed, breaths hitched, eyes dilemma-ed between looking away and peeking greedily upwards for more more more-

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit - he’s so drunk on the thought that Geto can feel himself drooling. Is this…fuck- is this what they call babyfever?

Softened fingertips idle down your thighs, smearing a messily trail down the leaky spatters of slick that your flooded slit just can’t stop drooling. And he finds himself grinning-

“Ahh- would ya look at that. Makin’ s-such a show, aren't cha?” Geto giggles - giggles - voice reverent in that exact same way that he had been since you’d off-handedly mentioned how the association would need a successor one day. Oh god, it was like your usually-composed Geto was possessed. Gone. 

He didn’t even know why he was feeling so fucked-out already. Why his fingerpads were dragging around and around your clit until you were sobbing. Mewling with every sticky plunge of his too-heavy girth into your cunt, “S-Suguru you’re being so-”

“Shut up.” Leaving a stinging thwack! against the curve of your plump clit, “Let ‘em hear- let her ngh- talk to me. Heh.”

And you couldn’t even whine in protest - because Geto’s already snatching a few thick digits to curl around your slacked maw. Letting your drooling lips coat him in sheer drivel and moans that slip through when he plants pound after pound.

He’s so greedy opening his way around, every rummaging jackhammer positioned exactly to recoil against your gummy cervix. Sloppy split-seconds between each battering ram leaving your gooey orifice bearing the incredible weight of him brushing his swivelling tip against your g-spot. He’s nodding and conversing along lecherously to the honeyed slurps! wafting from your poor pussy. 

“Mhm– mhm, I agree, ma…” And you’re being faced with a slurping pop! pop! pop! resonating from behind as Geto sucks on his fingers to clean off that sopping syrupy gloss. Savoring. Sing-song baritone lilting up just a notch in volume to address your audience, “Don’t you?” 

And when there’s no answer - you are the one being punished with a stinging smack! against the edge of your cunt. Geto’s digits latching around your gaping hole and twirling their way in-

Fuck- the sounds of hurried agreement thundering in your ears from all around you make you keen. 

And usually he’d be smooth, suave, private in bed. But right now Geto can’t help tug one rough forearm around your waist and pin your back against his glissading washboard abs. Massaging you with each rut up and down up and down up and-

“D’you w-wanna know what she’s sayin’?” he’s granting a long slather of his tongue up your bulbous tears, humming at the salty aftertaste. “Wanna know what she’s ngh- begging for?”

“Wh-what?” you’re blubbering out, lips wobbly oh-so-cutely in a way that he just can’t help but sink his sharp canines into. Tugging. 

And Geto didn’t know why he was feeling so…so needy. He had no idea what was making him stretch your jittery thighs open so wide it was like he wanted everyone to see - to know. 

But he has a feeling it’s to do with that idea you mentioned earlier. A…successor. 

Fuck- 

The notion is enough for him to gasp, for his entire body of hefty muscles to flinch like he’d just been zapped with a zillion bolts of bliss. And before you know it, your face gently meets the ridged tatami mats, and Geto’s manhandling you with his beefy limbs onto all fours. 

One hand kisses your puffy clit around and around in thorough circles, the other entirety of his arm curling around your throat - headlocking your lolling face upwards, you’re gasping. Drenched at the bulge of his flexing biceps against your neck-

“She’s sayin…” He bites down on your sensitive earlobe, “-she wants me t-to breed her until she’s overspilling.” And you thought he was done - you thought. Before he’s babbling away pussydrunkenly, head reclining mindlessly towards the front row. “Right?”

Yeah. Yeah, of course, he was right. 

It didn’t matter if Geto Suguru couldn’t properly think - couldn’t even breathe just about right now. Broad chest petering out the most heaving gasps from his lungs, he’s making sure every sloppy cadence of your hips back into his leave you reeling. 

Leave you yelping at the words cascading from his pretty coral pink lips- 

“S’what sh-she’s sayin–” His ragged grip tightens as does his claim on your spongy cunt, “-n-not me– m’kay- she wants me to fuuuck- fill her up. To breed her- wants me to put a baby in her so that everyone-” Those final words had you being lunged up onto your unsteady knees, leveraging the stranglehold around your neck to stick your arched back against his hardened front upright. You gasp- “-so that ngh- everyone knows what I did- all of ‘em. Gonna know what m’doin’ to ya- how I fucked a ngh- s-successor into you like this.”

“Suguru—” Comes that favorite syrupy-sweet song of his - and you don’t even have to voice your words to him. Because he can already  feel the squelching hug of your jostling walls, the way you give his thickened base a cute squeeze “M’gonna c-cu-”

Ah.

And he doesn’t give you the privilege of finishing your sentence before a sudden smack! right onto the hood of your beady clit makes you crash headfirst into your orgasm- and Geto into his. Multiple of them. 

His overworked cock torrenting the most saturated wads of ropy cum. They’re avalanching into your greedy hole, spilling down the side of his shaft into a creamy ring. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“O-oh–” Geto lets out a raw, guttural moan with your name tacked on like it was his favorite few syllables. The high so strong that he can’t even hold himself up. “Shit- s-swear s’your cunt– so heavenly for fucking what.”

Hypnotized. Collapsing onto a heap of long limbs on top of you, you’re squirming against the tatami floor. The knotted plug of Geto’s swollen base helping his copiously buttery amounts of cum stay safe and sound inside. 

Murmurs envelope you two- they’re still there. 

You’re jumping at the sticky schwf! of a few goopy traces of seed that slip down your puffy slit, being scooped up easily by a hawk-eyed Geto. Raising his hand up, up, up to bully between your pouted lips and oh…oh it really was babyfever.

He needed to see you with another two little girls that looked like you and had his status of leader. He needed to see you round and glowing. He still needed to see you full. 

“Gorgeous…you’ll never hah- believe what she’s tellin’ me now.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “I-inside…?”

Choso didn’t know whether this was supposed to happen. 

He didn’t know whether this was even possible. Was…was this some kind of strange new cursed technique? 

Because why did it only take one glimpse of you ruffling Yuji’s hair - just one motherly smile his way - for your beloved boyfriend to all but drag you back home the very first second he could. 

Shoving you against the cool platform of the front fucking threshold, melty brain churning with nothing but the strange image of you ruffling the hair of another little boy that looked strangely like a mixture of the two of you. 

But that was hours ago.

And Choso was still rabid. Still permeating open your bulging folds to watch the slow trickle of cum that you’re wetting down his wrist. “C-can you ngh- take more, baby?”

You’re clawing your trembly fingers down the wooden surface just past the entryway. Wetly condensed gasps escaping from your sloshed parted lips when he treks up one trembly, muscular foot on top of your body to pin you down. “Ch-Cho— how are you s-still going-”

Chosos’s racking out a low keen - the very sound of your voice making his furiously overworked tip swash a fresh wad of precum into your bruised cervix. Twitching with overstimulation when his wispy alabaster ropes lull into nothingness-

“I-I don’t know, baby–” he’s letting his dark head of hair curtain that utterly fucked expression on his face. Eyes sliding ravenously to the back of his head when his fatigued hips plant another yearning grind into your cunt. Dribbling maw slacking open, “I just- I just want…”

You already knew what he wanted - and the evidence was right there drizzling from your drowning slit, making itself at home in a creamy ring of cum down his gyrating hilt. But you’re whining out anyway, “W-want ngh- what, baby–?”

Fuck.

Fuck- he was being ridiculous. Being Choso Kamo knows that you’re simply using your sweet little nickname for him, he knows that. But he still finds his head lolling backwards with a groan. How pretty that sounds falling from your lips. 

SLAM!

“I- that-” He gasps. He heaves. Hunched over so you’re gifted with such a delicious eyeful of his sweat-slicked arms caging you from abovehead. Flexing and rippling as Choso’s sloppy cadence grows faster. Filthier. Pound after pound that frosts your tenderized g-spot in thick upheavals of creamy pre. “I want a baby– I don’t- ngh- I don’t know what this feeling is, baby…”

Whirling your sappy eyes over your shoulder to take a long look at him and- 

Oh.

Fuck, was that a mistake. Because your dear boyfriend was so irresistible - with his big, dark eyes dewey with pearly tears, rosy lips jutted out in a way that makes him look so kissable. So tired. Every twitch and bead of sweat trickling down his muscles made Choso look like he was on the very verge of falling apart. 

But he won’t stop - doesn’t think he even can anymore. 

“D-don’t look at me ngh- like- that-” So lovingly. Choso pecks a few pretty kisses down your arched spine, “S’gonna make me cum.”

You’re carding your fingers through thick, dampened locks of his hair to tug. “So do it, Cho–” And fuck, you’re scrambling your jittery hips in the most sinful of movements to meet his jackhammering pace - he thinks he just might pass out. Gulping at the smacking sting! that jiggles the mound of your ass against his toned abs, so hard that he sees his skin rub rawly red. “C-cum inside- again.”

Oh, he wants to. How badly he wants to. 

A few of his soft, rounded fingerpads smear along the treacle of excess cum from before that laminate your pretty skin. Swirling and swirling and he’s drawing gooey patterns right where you were bulging with every inch of him, puffed-up pussy lips engorged wide open when he’s nosediving with his thickened cockhead.

“But it’s s-so filthy, baby…” he trails off, lower lips all wobbly and whining. And Choso’s dark brows pucker into the cutest frown when he dances those very same sopping wet digits up to his pert mouth and sucks. Moaning. “Can I really- c-can I really cum inside? Again?”

“Mhm– trust me, Cho-”

And how could he ever not?

Before you know it, you’re feeling the spongy probe of Choso’s fat head kiss up against your womb. Thwack! Thwack! Thwacking a smooth staccato of wet swipes that your gummy depths are branded to remember, syncing up to that thunderous pulse of yours. 

“M’g-gonna cum- fuuuck- s’unfair-” he gasps against your ear, burning up. “-this pretty pussy of yours is s-sucking me up so ngh- well that-” Face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, you jolt when you feel a hot pitter-patter of tears- “-I-I’ve just gotta get you pregnant, baby–”

Flooding out thick, saturated spurts of his cum that glue to your mushy walls like a second coating of slick. He feels so hot inside swabbing around every nook and cranny, and you’re hit with the sleazy smell of sex and him. 

Shit. He was cumming nothing now.

“W-wait-” Choso’s voice grows ragged, his eyes snap open as if in a daze. And you catch the way one set of his slender fingers envelope the creamy base of his cock to squeeze. Pumping ever-so-slightly up and down up and- “M’cumming- dry- fuck! Can’t- I can’t cum dry–”

You’re sure that stupidly drunken reassurances are falling from your lips, but Choso doesn’t hear any of them. Can’t register them. Can’t recognize anything but the way he pulls out for just a split-second. Flipping you over onto your back, you take in the soft crackle of jujutsu when his hazied mind pumps every ounce of blood in his body back to his blanking cock.

“O-oh my god–” You’re sobbing out at the suddenly staggering stretch, the way your elastic walls were forced to accommodate that thickly expanding girth of his. “D-did you just use ngh- your cursed technique to-”

“Yes.” Choso’s wheezing out, chest storming back and forth while the overstimulation hits him mercilessly. He bores into your pretty face, “Yes yes yes yes- I…I want a baby– ngh- c-can’t fuck this pretty pussy pregnant if I cum dry.”

Over and over. He’s whispering out an almost-painfully rasping, “This time- this time this time-” when his achy cock splurges out a few more dry orgasms. Fuck-

He knew he was going to have you all round and glowing - he already knew. Knew he’d make Yuji an uncle and you a gorgeous momma - such a gorgeous momma, with a gorgeous son in tow.

Babbling out these very same words without even realizing into the crook of your tender neck, you huff out a cockdrunken bout of laughter. “S-seems you’ve been hit with ngh- babyfever, Cho–”

“Babyfever, huh?” he whimpers, startling tears trekking down the regal apples of his cheek when his poor cock cums dry again. You jolt at the electric buzz of jujutsu that zaps through your body when he’s hardening himself again. Again. “I like the sound of that…”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Too big? Funny.

“I just put one tip in n’ you’re already cockdrunk?” Sukuna’s rumbling, reverberating snicker echoes throughout the royal court room. He’s leaning back on his throne, basking you in the most sleazy grin, “Heh- anythin’ to say for yerself, brat?”

It’s honestly through sheer stubbornness that you’re finding it in your sugar-coated mind to huff. “N-no.”

The only one he’d let speak to him that way, he’s puckering up your pretty pussy lips around one of his fat thumbs. Swirling dousingly wet circular patterns around and around while another hand smacks his second cock down your sobbing slit once. Twice. “Then what, silly girl? Too big?”

He doesn’t realize if you know you’re nodding - nodding and nodding while mewling out the tiniest, “But m’not leaving until you c-cum inside, Kuna–”

Oh.

Oh.

Overgrown black nails digging neat crescents into the plush of your hips, he’s baring you with a snarling show of ivory canines. Voice shot - rasping. Weaved with something dangerous. “Oi oi- don’t talk outta ya ngh- damn pussy, woman. Use that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

“But it’s true–” Your arms find their way around his ridiculously broad shoulders, cushioned against his plush muscles. Batting your lashes, it makes Sukuna gulp when you slip and slide your grinding way along his extra length. And oh, you already know you won. “-I wan’ a baby.”

And no one has ever seen the infamous king of curses rendered speechless, no one has ever seen his devilishly red eyes bulge out almost comically, mean mouth - both of them - drop in slack-jawed awe. Except you, that is - right now.

Sukuna’s smug mouth gapes open and closes a few too many times that he will deny later on. “A-a baby? My baby?”

Nodding, “Mhm– a-” 

But, shit, you can’t finish your sentence - no matter how badly you wanted to. Because that very instant of confirmation makes Sukuna’s fat cocks perk up against your bulging g-spot, magical bolts of bliss sparking behind your eyes and making you dizzy

“A baby- an heir, is it?” He breathes - he gasps. And you’ve never seen Sukuna like this, never seen that special glint of something feral in his eyes as he spits out, “Don’t fuckin’ look at me like ngh- that.”

Curled digits planting just a few sodden slaps! of his staggering second length along your weepy folds before sinking in.

Shovelling all throbbing girths of his dual shafts into your snug orifice, it’s like both of Sukuna’s swollen cocks are fighting for dominance. Jostling against every single tenderized sweet spot embedded into your walls, spearing you open so wide that you can’t help but keen. Stupidly open mouth sinking into the flesh of his tattooed shoulder-

Smack!

“Tch, easy on the merchandise if you wan’ me ta ngh- fuck a baby into you-” he’s rolling his eyes, soothing over the sting on your ass. Bouncing his thick, muscular thighs up and down up and down to jitter your unsteady hips viciously along his lengths. “-how many?”

“Wh-what?” you’re blinking.

And of course Sukuna’s only growling something dark and heady at the back of his throat. Handsomely sharp jaw clenched when with one singular push of two beefy arms, you’re being stuffed splittingly full with his rock-hard cocks to the brim. His wet divots drizzling a painting of pre across your doughy cervix, splurging and rubbing up together. Till you felt like you were going to burst with every kiss of those pink, cushiony tufts of hair at his fat base. 

“Thereee we go—” he’s chuckling. Fucking up into you like he was angry. Like he hated you - even though it was the furthest fucking thing. “Look at you all ngh- t-taking the cocks you were saying’ was too fuckin’ big.” 

You’re pouting when he lilts his tone a few octaves higher to match your own - dramatically so. 

“But for bein’ my hahhh- good fuckin’ girl…” And that gravelling implication makes your glissading pussy greedily slick a fresh coating down Sukuna’s already-drenched shafts. “-how many heirs do ya wan’ me ta breed into this cute cunt?”

You’re not sure what you’re babbling out nonsensically - you’re not sure what you even think, but the monstrous curse in front of you arches a sharp, pink brow. Humming, “I’m thinking- hah- three. At fuckin’ least.”

And oh, the moment that promise leaves his mouth, it’s like a dam is being shattered open. 

Because it’s all that he can think about - all that he wants. He yearns. 

Manspreading until you’re teetering precariously on his staggering size, two of his beefy arms wrap around your middle to haul your pliant body cushioned against his sculpted pecs. One more veering to pinch your clit and the other- damn, that fourth one. 

Acting as if with a mind of its own when he splayed out a hand down your tummy, feeling for the cylindrical bulge of his dual cock spearheading you impossibly open. Caressing. Soft. 

“G-gonna have my power heh-” he’s babbling, biting his lower lip to hide a few weakened whimpers. “N’ your pretty features, ngh- and your dumb goo-goo heart and- and-”

And what was this?

Sukuna couldn’t stop thinking about that dangerous little vision you’d planted in his sugary mind. Couldn’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you’d look all round because of him - a pretty queen, with his pretty heirs. How much he’d love-

“S’all your f-fuckin’ fault, brat-” Sukuna snaps his teeth, words coming out hot. Feverish. As frenzied as his hips were when they’re crashing into your own so hard that it hurts. Bruising the planes of his sharp hip bones, buttering up your goopy insides until they felt viscous around him. “Fuck- a thousand fuckin’ years n’ this is what makes me ngh- lose- it-”

Fuming - seething.

Because every collision into your elastic cervix has him recoiling back just a haf-bounce. A gluey smear of precum tainted behind, but parting with your pretty pussy for just that was too much. 

He needed more. More, more, more-

“Kuna- Kuna m’gonna cum-” Your babbles cut through his shimmering visions of you with three kids dangling off your shoulders, fighting him for your attention. Heh. Hips jittering pathetically up and down to meet his sloppy cadence, your teeth sink into his tender earlobe. “M’gonna- hah- m’so close-”

Thwack!

His fingers smear along the mounded flesh on your ass, squeezing. “S’fucking cum, dammit.”

What Sukuna didn’t expect was for himself to cum, too - sharpened carnivorous teeth digging deep into your throat - for all to see. Curdling low grunts at the back of his throat and fuck-

Fuck, he sees white. 

Now, Sukuna always came so much. The double divots at the very ends of his two cocks splurging out candy-like seed that waters your melty cunt until you were overspilling. Every peak of your high being wrung out of you. Sukuna’s pulling out just one of his cocks to make an even bigger mess-

“Oh- ohhh-” Sukuna seeps with the puddle of opaquely milky cum waterfalling from the minute openings of your sloppy hole. Something about it makes him gulp. Parched. Second mouth manifesting on a free hand and slurping a few candied dredges, “I think…I think th-three isn’t enough.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - Wifey, wifey

“K-kiss me-” Ino gasps - he begs. And your breath just hitches at the way his pretty brown eyes flood with a glaze of tears. Rosy lips raw and puckered, “Please- please, I j-jus’ need you to kiss me, pretty–”

And how could you refuse?

With your splayed-out palms mountaineering over his heaving pecs, you’re craning your glissading body down, down, down to kiss him senseless.

And shit, he can feel the way your clingy walls hug his pulsing shaft even tighter. Careening his mushroom head to bump up against your bruised g-spot, he leaves a few gluey pecks exactly on the bullseye of your tender orifices. Just in time for Ino’s lips to wrap around your tongue and suck-

“M-mmpf- woah.” Ino’s weepy eyes scrunch wildly together, maw spilling slack to groan out. Like he’d just realized something - just had the world’s greatest epiphany. “S-sweetness, I…” Struggling - heaving to scramble up all the correct words, but it was so hard when your squelching pussy was talking to him like this. Only - only - continuing at your reassuring nods, “I wanna fuck a baby into you- two, actually.”

Fuck- fuck. That’s not how it was supposed to come out. It felt so…dirty speaking to his beloved girl this way. 

But Ino can’t help the way that his overstimulated mind was so heated it felt like he was burning from the inside out. Leanly strong arms manhandling you to scurry his ruddied face into your sweat-sheened neck, “I-I mean-”

“I want that too, T-Taku–” you’re moaning. “N-need you to fill me up so badly. Ngh- been wantin’ it for a while now…” Oh, it sounds like music in Ino’s ears and a mantra in his mind.

Over and over and-

“No-” Ino’s rutting his colliding cockhead against your pulpy cervix, teeth gritting furiously with such pathetic embarrassment. “No no no- fuck! M’gonna–”

And that’s just about the warning you’re being showered with, before something hot and thick dumps inside your cunt. Viscous spatterings of velvety ropes smear themselves on your slobbering walls, gummy insides so wet and sweltering hot. Just from those words you’d uttered - Ino thinks that he’d be happy even if they were the last fucking ones he’d ever head. 

That shrill gasp escaping from your lips is enough to make Ino groan. 

“Baby, did you just-”

“Yes.” He’ll berate himself later for cutting off your pretty voice, head now too busy reeling with trying to scoop up the gelatinous dredges of cum your gaping hole was slurring out. Deft fingers pushing each creamy ring back inside- “Move your fingers, pretty. Can’t let it go to ngh- waste. I-I’m sorry s’jus’ ah- this pussy is just…”

Truly, there was no word to describe the utter heaven that Ino was floating in right now. 

And the only thing justifying his words are the way his hips drill into yours. Not stopping. Not even slowing down. His thrusts were so filthy now - absolutely nothing like the measly languid slides you were gyrating down his fat cock. Flexing abs massaging your core, rounded cum-filled balls once more so heavy and stinging against your ass. 

No, it’s like something had snapped - something had…changed. 

Two rough hands clap around your vigorously gyrating hips, so pressurized that it was almost as if Ino was dying to bruise his patterned fingerprints right into your tender skin. And his delicate voice cracks with a ruined little whine of your name. Eyes sliding to the shadowy back of his lids-

“Th-this is alright- right?” His lower lip trembles, asking. Pleading. Slender hips curving up again and again in a way that had your sugary sweet pussy flaps creaming out drizzly sheen after sheen of fresh slick. “Can I really…”

Huffing out a teasing little puff of laughter, it makes Ino’s pretty cheeks flush even deeper. “Mhm— nothing to hah- be shy about, baby.”

God- he couldn’t even bear to say those sultry words out loud. Instead, reverently gliding one of his palms along your tummy, Ino’s breath hitches at the nudge and pull of his bawling tip. 

Pressing down. Hard. 

“M-m’gonna make you s-so ngh- full here– spilling.” he’s drawling out, words stumbling along into one another. And you can’t help but have your hips fucking even faster into his pirouetting grinds at the utterly husky tone of his voice. The way he sounds ruined already. “Use me until ya give me t-two sons–”

Shit- when did he even learn to talk like this? It’s like his mouth was declaring those deepest, darkest secrets of his. Oh…yeah he knew it - it was babyfever. And Ino was a hopeless, happy patient.  

Sappy pecks being lined up along your kiss-bitten lips, one of his thumbs expertly rummages for the bulging caress of where his smooth, curvaceous head was spattering thick wads of pre. “Think they’ll h-have my ngh- looks?” Head lolling all the way back at the sliding pressure. “Hope they have your haaah- smile, pretty–”

“Shit- shit shit shit-” you’re gasping, wet breaths being drunken in by a parched Ino. He’s greedy - ravenous. Such an uncharacteristically sleazy smile being smeared all over his lips when your cushiony g-spot gets bruised by his rotund tip. “I-it feels so good, Taku- Ngh-”

“Only the b-best for the mother of my kids, duh-” he rolls his eyes. 

Oh, his words were so sweet - pert lips grazing your own in a messy excuse of a kiss was so sweet. But what wasn’t was the way that one set of his long fingers spiral around your wrists and pin them behind your back. 

And it gives him the absolute perfectly heavenly angle to latch those gentle lips around your hardened nipples. “Gonna be s-so pretty- the ngh- prettiest momma-” Nuzzling his head into the valley of your heaving breasts, his teeth sink into one sensitive nub and tugs. “Have you all round n’ swollen and m-mine. Mine mine mine-”

All that resonates in your mind when he’s finally tipping you over to cum. Your eyes daze with a bleary tinge, tired thighs aching when your hips thwack! wetly into his.

His tired cock drooping out a few more pearly beads of seed that refreshes your gripping walls - before Ino sees sparks and cums dry. Eyes practically smothered white with how far they’re rolling back, sweat breaking out over his forehead all over again, mouth falling slack.

And out of it comes only two words-

“Marry me.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - HEAVEN N’ BACK

“D-don’t run away–” And to anyone else, it would sound like the strongest is begging on his knees. Words crumbling with hollow rasps, cracking into pathetic little whines. “Come baaaack- where’d you think you’re hah- goin’?”

But you knew better.

You knew that Gojo Satoru was just a single more saturated squeeze of your clingy walls from fucking snapping. And times like this, you wondered just how high the kill count would be - whether you would be number one on that list. 

As if reading your mind, his staggeringly long fingers grasp around your wrangling legs and drag you about halfway through those navy sheets like some ragdoll. 

With an innocently rosy pout, Gojo’s planting a pretty peck against your ankle, whispering out an utterly strained. “Just hngh- look at her-” And you’re realizing with a shockwave that he isn’t talking to you. Not even close. Cerulean eyes so hazy and glowing - smoldering into where your cunt was being speared right through by his solid inches. “-I c-come back from the fuckin’ ah- death n’ my girl’s zonin’ out.”

“I-I’m not–” you’re whining, being pressed with all his weighty muscles into the meanest mating press. 

“I-I-I-” Gojo’s mocking with such a sleazy grin - and for a split-second you’re wondering if he’s even realizing what he’s babbling. Eyes half-lidded, barely focused. Sweat-glistened forehead connecting with yours, the humorless grin that Gojo’s plastered on is so ruined. “-heheh, m’not gonna die w-without breedin’ ngh- this cute cunt ever again.” Boring down at your greedy hole, “Riiight~?”

It’s as if he expects your sweet, sugar-coated pussy to answer. Huffing with a dramatic pout once the only thing he’s gifted in return are the most lecherous squelches he’s ever heard in his life. Mumbling, “Got her mouth full– gonna be even f-fuller soon, y’know?”

“Y-you said that already, Toru–” you’re sobbing out, thighs drooping wider and wider open with every withering ram being punished upon your puffy pussy. 

He’s drilling into you so deeply that you swear there’s a permanently red imprint of your thighs on his washboard abs. Rummaging open your gluey walls that it was like they were permanently molded around his fattening girth. Thick, viscous sloshes of pre coating your poor, bulging folds. 

The sight is so pretty that shit- Gojo can’t help but have a little fun with it. 

Plunging out this entirety of his fat shaft to spy down at the way your poor unshut hole sloshes all over herself with a milky torrent of his cum. Gojo’s curling a few fingers over his hefty hilt and thwack! thwack! thwacking! your tearful lips even soppier. 

“Look at how much you’re ngh- wastin’-” And Gojo sounds genuinely upset, rosy lower lip wobbling at the frosty ounces of his voluminous seed. “Guess I jus’ hafta breed ya alllll over again…”

Ah, the things he does - the stamina he has. 

Well, stamina if it counts just a little cheating. Reversed curse technique currently working overtime to make sure that neither of you are breaking bones right now - though, that’s too late to say for the bed. You’re gliding a hand down the shattered headboards, avoiding those broken springs-

“B-being so greedy right now, Toru–” Yet, every scolding word of yours sounds like a whine as your slobbering flaps swallow up every inch he’d give. “What has hah- gotten into you.”

You knew. 

Oh, you knew.

Because Gojo really did think for a few seconds that it would be the end of it all right there on Shinjuku grounds…as if. 

Gojo Satoru had clawed his way over to you and he would always - from hell and back. And the one thing on his mind was-

“A baby–” He’s spitting out a lecherous mantra - the same one he’s been husking over and over for hours now. The thought enough to have his sculpted back hunching, his jaw slacking open, a sly drizzle of drool beading down the corners. He didn’t know why - he didn’t know how, couldn’t get it out of his mind. “A baby a baby oh- y-you’re gonna give me a baby, right?”

As if you could say no to that. 

Because even after so long - Gojo was willing himself to paint your cute cunt white all over again. He doesn’t know if he can, doesn’t know whether it’s fucking possible but fuck- if he wasn’t going to try. 

Shit- he felt so feverish with want and he didn’t even know why.

Gojo smears his lips down yours in a kiss, buzzing fingertips giving your pert clit a ready slap! It’s harsh. Right in time with the ruthless cadence of his fat, mushroom tip marching into your g-spot. “Now fuck yerself ngh- back onto this fuckin’ cock- milk a baby outta me. Take it all.”

Something about his words were so mean - desperate. And as soon as your mindlessly fucked self was writhing a few fingers down to your neglected clit, they’re getting rudely swatted away by Gojo. 

Eyes wild, teeth bared in such a base animal instinct. “Move that damn hand.” Rolling one fat thumb over the plump, tenderized hood. “I said fuck yourself not- hmpf- Can’t breed her hah- properly otherwise.”

You’ve never seen your lovely boyfriend ever act like this before. He’s sparking the ends of his eyes with blue lightning bolts of cursed energy. Free hand siding a few fingers right down the cylindrically carved pathway of his rummaging cock. 

Gasping, “T-Toru what are you-”

But he only smiles mysteriously, and you don’t know if you’re even capable of handling what he’d just examined at your gooey depths. Rendering you dizzy already.

But Gojo, it turns out, was doing far, far worse. 

It’s like his body is overtaken by some sort of fever, a giddy little giggle bursting from his lips. You’re being fucked so hard into the mattress that you’re sure you’ll be able to count the little outlines of the sheets on your skin even tomorrow. 

Neat, pearly rows of teeth smirking, “Our first is gonna be a g-girl.”

And maybe you’re cumming - maybe you’re not. By now the nth orgasms on top of orgasms simply leave you gasping at the crescendo of euphoria, your vision halfway blacking out. Gojo Satoru really was the greatest at everything and that included making you lose your mind.

Just about the only thing you’re registering is his fatigued cock spasming deep into the honeyed depths of your cunt. Coating your womb in a sugar sweet lather of cum - once. Twice. Sloshing with every rugged swivel and drip! between your pursed lips.

Gojo hisses when his achy cock starts cumming dry halfway through. And he doesn’t know whether he simply flipped the two of you over or fucking teleported; because when you’re blinking your vision back, you’re finding your unsteady legs straddling his slender hips.

Gojo’s head lounges hungrily behind on the pillows, face tilted cockily up at you. And his massive palms don’t know where to touch - anywhere and everywhere down your simmering body. 

“C-c’mon now- don’t think we’re done just yet.” Before finally resting on your slightly inflated womb, still convulsing with tingles of your high and the steaming hot weight of his cum. His hips rut- ah right…babyfever - that’s what it is. “F-fuck a few babies outta me, wontcha?”

“B-babies?” Plural. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Because of course, it’s plural. “I want six.” 

A/N. Ahhh honestly I don’t even know if I want kids but…anyways, hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[screampied]

Hitting it raw for the first time with JJK men?

‘ DON’T BE SHY, HIT IT RAW ! ★

starring ꒱ gojo, sukuna, toji, choso, nanami !?

@ WARNINGS : fem! reader, unprotected, brēeding kink, size kink, praise, manhandling, mating press, dōggystyle, prone bone, hair pulling, degradation, spit, biting, pússy drunk men, 18+

CHOSO ✰ KAMO.

“r…raw?” he inhales, staring at you with a cute quivering lip. you looked so pretty underneath him, sprawled all out and gazing right back into his eyes. you’d just got done playing with yourself in front of him, showing him just how easy it was to make you wet.

truthfully, choso’s had little to no experience— he gulps, wrapping a broad hand around his length before moving it towards your slick entrance. “like without the little rubber thing?”

you giggle, watching as his sculpted abs tense all up. he feels so hot, burning up. the entirety of his body shudders with a scorching breeze that runs against his skin.

“yes, baby. ‘s okay. i want you to,” and oh your voice, he could have came from just the sound of your sweet voice alone. doughy soft tips of his fingers brush against the skin that sticks against his dick like glue, a few simple strokes and he whines. “get a little closer, you remember missionary, right?”

“yeah,” he intakes a hollowing breath. by now, he’s hovering on top of you with his leaky tip fluttering against your sloppy slit. you merely slip off a moan yourself, syrupy liquid coating against his cockhead with such ease. “the position where i hold your hand ‘n stare into your eyes?” as you nod, he moans once he feels the way your dripping cunt starts to gradually devour the head of his dick in such a indecent way. “o-ohhh, okay.”

biting his lip, he starts to slowly sink his way in.

choso’s breath hitches from being engulfed with your sweet warmth. “y-you’re so warm inside,” he stammers, throwing his head back in utmost pleasure. choso’s so cute—a chastened grin purses against his lips, just a few solid inches in and he was already pussydrunk. “princess, ‘m not gonna last,” he furrows his brows, grabbing one of your hands, squeezing it tightly. “not gonna last when you’re s-so wet, i- i feel hot, oh.”

“don’t say that,” you tease, rubbing your ankle against his back. any kinds of touch from you made his heart race.

choso was firmly still—he’s been intimate with you plenty of times but never raw. this was an entire new feeling, he could just feel the lewd texture of your gummy walls grip around him securely. “you’re doing great, baby. just fuck me, like you always do.”

“i can fuck you, i … i can fuck you,” he’s chanting to himself cutely, trembling on each individual word.

a barrier, as he’s going inside raw— it feels like a barrier that’s shoved directly between your pussy and his cock. as choso’s hooded eyes start to get heavy, it doesn’t take long for him to start up a vicious pace.

languidly,

he feels the intensity of it all. the searing friction being created against both mounds. choso’s thrusts became more rapid by the second and your mouth pries open ever so slightly..

“oh m-my,” he hiccups, his grip between your fingers getting tighter. he loves holding your hand, especially whenever you were underneath him. choso’s voice was so adorable— every few seconds it croaks or cracks, it feels so tactile. the touch, the way your cunt takes every inch of him, he’s so big that the stretch was simply immaculate. choso presses his body against your chest, he’s leaning before he gently sinks his canines into your neck. “gonna c-cum already, hold me baby,” and then he swallows, a short gasp following out of his glossed-spit lips. “i… i mean, can i cum inside? never stuffed you full before.”

“go ‘head, baby,” you whisper, and he cutely whines once you run a soft finger down his brief undercut. whenever you called him baby, he could feel himself melting right into you—you feel choso move his glossed lips towards you, pulling you into a deep, sensual kiss. it was passionate, warm breaths violently crashing into each other at such a quick pace that he feels the strain rise up in his lungs.

your pretty cunt’s holding him hostage— choso’s slowly thrusting into you before right when he’s about to cum, he’s whimpering into your mouth. “it’s okay, ‘cho. it’s okay, you can do it,” and you cup his face, watching his darkened eyebrows furrow. his face softens at your sweet reassurance before he feels the incoming wave brew up within him. “you wanna be my messy boy, huh?”

he shamelessly nods. “so b-bad,” and his words were trembling upon each syllable. once he shoots into you, dumping you with a sweltering hot load of cum, his mind goes blank. you’ve never felt more stuffed—so packed up. his dick now flaccid—choso whines into your neck. the mucilaginous strings of cum that spurt into you was so filthy. squelches that reverberated against your cunt, just the quiet sound of it makes his mouth salivate.

he wants more, he wants you.

“feels so good,” he pants, lying on top of your chest— he grows quiet, hearing the sloshes of your cunt get stuffed with more parching ropes and ropes of cum. it feels tenderly, it shoots deep into your womb and your arms throw around his shoulders. choso’s sweating profusely, he feels like each pant that leaves his lips was gonna be his last. you smile, kissing the bridge of his nose where he scar lays before he slowly pulls out. gluey strings of cum depart from your hole and he can’t help but run a thumb against it. “i— oh my god,” he sniffles, and his voice was a bit more pitched. “are— are you okay? did i do okay?”

you kiss the side of his mouth and he moans, staring as your tummy was all swollen after being filled to it’s very peak. “i’m okay, you did amazing baby,” and he snuggles up against you. his head hitting against your chest, his personal favorite pillow. with a relaxing sigh, you strum your fingers through his ponytails before speaking in a soft voice, giving him a head pat. “always such a good boy for me, choso.”

“thank you,” he snivels, and you don’t expect for him to get back up again. his eyes—they’re more feral now, beads of sweat running down his brow before he pouts. “not done though. can- can we fuck raw again? pretty please, ‘m not done being messy for you.”

NANAMI ✰ KENTO.

“take it off, ‘kennnn,” you mewl out a desperate whine, pawing clammy hands at your husband’s halfway exposed chest.

he had barely just made it back from work, needing someway to rewind from his usual respective nine-to-five and you offered. an offer that was located nowhere other than between your legs, though he never complained. your cunt was easily the best way to unwind from a long day. with his work clothes still on, pants halfway down, drooping toward his knees, he hums.

you had him amused, his boxers were halfway down—cock sprung out and he swallows, stroking the rubbery condom that’s sheathing over his erect length. “wanna feel you from the inside, please.”

he gruffly chuckles, body jolting briefly in response he laughs. whilst he had you promptly sat on his lap, you were so close up to him— his heat purely radiates against yours, making the feelings of his touch ten times more sensitive. “you’re in a playful mood today, huh. no condom, my love? and why is it that you want to ‘feel me from the inside’, hmm?”

with exasperated breaths, you’re just so close to him stuffing you full. your soaking entrance rubs against his tip—so leaky, your mouth merely starts to water at just envisioning him flooding your pussy up with so much of his ropy cum. “i jus’ wan’ it,” you whine, and he titters once you take measures into your own hands—tugging the loosely fit rubber before his cock was finally out in the open. “wanna be your cum dump, kento.”

“cum … dump?” he repeats, scratching the basal part of his pointed chin. nanami smirks, a big hand giving your ass a gentle yet firm squeeze. he’s so tender, caressing the sides of your rear before giving it a brief spank. nanami was always sweet, you liked whenever he’d take a little more control at times. “that really what you want? to be my ah, cum dump?”

you tell him yes and that’s all he really needs to hear from you.

you’re scrupulously rocking your hips against nanami, sucking your teeth at the hot feeling pooling inside of you. the grip, oh the grip—you feel dizzy, without the condom felt like a whole new world. nanami groans, leaning back against the headboard whilst he’s letting you ride, take the wheel on his lap if you will. “mhm. loosen up for me, love,” he’d grunt, blond strands of his running down the sides of his face. it’s cute, the way his usual perfect hair was now all ruffled and feral. “fuck me jus’ like that, ride me good, okay?”

moan after moan drags past your lips, flimsy arms throw around his stiff shoulders before the stretch had you gasp. the stretch—so elastic.

his cock vigorously pummels in and out with such girth making your cunt profusely spasm.

facing directly in front of him, you probably looked a mess—abashed facial expressions tugging against your features, mouth dangled all open, you were a sight. yet, you didn’t care—you cared about being filled to the brim. you craved it like you crave a succulent pastry. as your hips rotate and rock in collision, he’s got both hands on your waist, slamming you down further and further. you’re whining, feeling the tip of his dick reach deep—each time it delves into you, it smothers your g-spot with various french-tip kisses. your eyes roll back, feeling his honey-dew eyes take in your pretty jerking hips every and single second. “oh, look at that face right when she’s gettin’ ready to make a mess,” and his voice was a deep whisper, he brings you towards his neck, chuckling once you sniff him. “feel it too, darlin’? wanna be my good little wife ‘n finish with me, hm?”

“y—yes, please ‘ken, hngh,” you whine, feeling the sharp edges of your teeth shatter against each other. his thick cock punctures something deep within your walls, causing you to spasm all over him. “wanna cum with you, please pleaseee.”

he sneaks a kiss against your lips, it’s wet and it’s got you hungry for more. nanami never fails to coat you with a few of his tenderized kisses. it his thing, soft padded lips that press against your skin always had you weak in the knees. speaking of knees, your own knees start to buckle as you’re rotating your hips against his. “messy girl, go ‘head then. i wanna see just how messy my pretty baby can get.”

nanami’s voice was so soothing, all up against your ear. alluring pheromones surge all through you as you’re taking every inch of his cock. every few seconds your stomach seizes, a repetitive motion that has your toes curling up in utter temptation. “cum, ‘m gonna cum ‘ken, cumming, nghh.” the positioning couldn’t have been more perfect. rough hands of his squash against your derrière before your breath literally gets snatched away. with your jaw dropping, you tense up, convulsing with his twitching dick inside of you. compressing against his length, you clench down on your maw before whining out a sweetened sob. “inside, shoot inside ‘ken. don’t miss.”

“i’ll never miss if it’s with you, sweetheart,” he whispers— the gravel in his voice turning a bit shaky.

fat full balls of potential seed thwack and thwack against your skin, with the ricochet of skin slapping, it rings throughout your ears—having your mind going stupid.

with a grunt, he clings onto your swiveling torso tightly, a hefty arm wrapping around you. so close, he’s so deep inside that the tip of his cockhead reaches the most secretive depths stored inside your cunt. “mhm. ‘s gonna get a little messy, hold onto me, my sweet.”

GOJO ✰ SATORU.

gojo’s got a sheepish simper, having you bent over for him in such a way has his heart pounding. he heard the individual beats pulse through his ears before he inhales. “raw.. raw as in you want the real thing? heh, can ya even handle me raw?”

“shut up,” you whine, your ass wriggling in response against his length—he was just as aroused as you, he gives your ass a long stare before huffing out a breath. “jus’ fuck me, ‘toru.”

“well excuseee me,” he replies back, aligning himself against your saturated folds. so pretty, the way your pussy was even warmer from the inside, so moist. he feels his breath start to shake before he thrashes his tip against your outer entrance. “ooh, s-so much tighter than i thought.” and he grows quiet once your pussy starts to accept him inside. slowly, you’re swallowing every inch that he provides—gojo moans, the tight clamp that your gummy walls give him merely makes him fold. the sensation was almost too much to bare. pap pap pap, the sounds your cunt make in retaliation only made him more feral.

gojo’s panting, your cunt’s got him in a tight grasping chokehold that he knows he can’t get out of— it’s simply spontaneous.

“fuck, you’re so h-hot,” he sighs, you let off a soft mewl, feeling him bring a palm towards your right ass cheek to spank it, gripping it toughly and you bite your lip. even though you couldn’t directly see his expression—you just imagined gojo would be as pretty as he’s always been. messy, ruffled hair, panting, muscles tightening and flexing. even that thing he does whenever he’s bottoming out inside of you. where his eyebrows furrow all up and his face becomes utterly flustered.

so cute.

after a few sloppy hits against your heat, it doesn’t take much to make him into a pure, whiney mess. he’s just babbling whilst you’re on all fours for him, so tense—his muscles ache for more of you. gojo starts to feel the tip of his tongue salivate with little droplets of his own syrupy saliva. oh, it was just the way your pussy effortlessly wraps around him like a vice. he grunts in a hoarse tone, witnessing how your hips just ferociously grind and hit back against him so good to where his head’s spinning.

as he accelerates his hips, gojo’s so needy—he can’t help but grab your waist with calloused fingers, driving his fat cock into you at a more swift speed. he’s so big, so fucking big. filling you full of girthy inches each time, you’re moaning repeatedly, feeling how his hips start to stutter and his thighs ache already. he’s close.

the more he pants, the more raspy it becomes. gojo’s thumbs were practically piercing into both sides of your hips—indenting in them as he’s allowing the cockhead of his shaft to freely rummage all throughout your gripping walls. the feeling of being inside of you, raw, he found himself drooling. something about the way you clamp down against his base each time, feeling the slimy strings of pre-cum stick against your ass and his base each time you smack back onto him.

“f-fuuuck, ‘toru. right there, hngh. right there, fuck fuck.” you hiccup, and he’s feeling his breath start to hitch in due time. with his hands still grabbing onto your waist as he’s pounding you ruthlessly from behind, you moan. “ughhh, ‘toru, ‘m gonna cum. fuck don’t stop, please.” and as you speak to him in that sweet tone, he only gets harder. cerulean blue eyes of his stare down your back— your breathtaking spine, the way it had a few drops of excess sweat gliding down. he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why but that simple detail as he was drilling such amounts of dick into you—he found it adorable. “touch me more.” you whine, a sudden pitch in your tone. “slow, f-fuck me slower baby.”

“i- i amm,” he whimpers, his voice growing shorter and shorter. it was just something about fucking you from behind. it gave him a perfect excuse to stare at your ass, kiss it with the palm of his hand with rude mean spanks, getting hard from the recoil. speaking of hard though, gojo was quite hard, painfully so—you feel his hips snap into you at such a pace that it’s like he’s not human. each thrust, each deeper angle he creates with his hips has you going stupid. with how loud he’s whimpering—you can’t tell who’s louder, him or you. “fuck, ‘m really gonna cum inside, angel. oh fuck, ‘s the way you squeeze on me s-so good, don’t stop fuckin’ me back, please.”

he turns into a babbling mess, the stretch of his cock buries so deep into you—constricting freely around his length, he then lightly shoves your head against the pillow. “s-sorry, angel,” he swallows, tracing his fingertips against the edges of your ass. “ah, ‘m gonna have to give you all of me. ‘s gonna spill out but you’ll be a good girl ‘n keep it in for me, yeah?”

“yes, yes yess,” you whimper, and he then grabs onto your hair for leverage—he’s pumping you full of thick inches of dick, you stare at yourself in the reflection of a mirror and gojo still looks pretty. his pace was brutal, you could barely keep up and your legs felt like they were hanging onto the final hinges. “inside, ‘toru. don’t spill a d-drop.”

“take it then, t-take it for me,” he moans, and each time he hits against your ass with his own hips, you feel the swollenness of his balls brush up against your pussy. total breeder balls, you whine before it takes him a moment to finally cascade such stripes of cum right into your womb. “listen to that, f-fuck, sloppy pussy’s jus’ my favorite,” he pants, heaving out a single strained breath. gojo’s hips precipitously stop, and he’s just feeling himself spew such ropes—so warm, it’s sticky too. you feel the texture spurt into your cunt, giving you more than enough. with a hand still gripping onto your hair, he then brings a hand to gently wrap around your throat. “mhm, baby. we should— we should start thinkin’ of baby names by this point heh.”

you moan, feeling him slowly pull out— once he does, leftovers of his cum that plugged you full starts to seep out of your hole. he licks his lips, inserting a thumb inside before spreading your folds open up. “don’t stop, ‘toru. want more,” you sigh, arching your back up again for him. “give me twins.”

“fuck i’ll give you triplets,” he grunts, re-aligning his throbbing tip—he inhales deeply, still feeling sensitive before it swipes against your messy painted up entrance. as he’s close up to your ass, he runs a hand down your spine before getting up close to your ear. in a low, husky whisper, he replies. “keep up with me, angel. ‘m gonna be showin’ this pussy the new me all n-night.”

SUKUNA ✰ RYŌMEN.

“careful now, woman,” sukuna hisses, and he’s got you in a secure mating press—you moan, feeling his tip skim against your sopping pussy. his tone was a mere warning, red-shot eyes of a curse—in which he was, stares right into you as he holds back. “askin’ me to do somethin’ like that ‘s gonna end up with ya pregnant.”

with a pout, you sling your arms around him, smelling his intoxicating scent roam through your flared up nostrils. “don’t care,” you chastise, and he’s such a tease. grabbing ahold of his fat length, brushing his angry leaning cockhead against your entrance. he snickers against your neck, hot breath fanning against your collarbone. “finish in me, ‘kuna. wanna feel it s’bad,” and you didn’t even care how pathetic you sounded. desperate was the perfect word for you. it was always a dream to have the king of curses feed your sweet forlorn cunt with such delicious ropes of cum. you’ve only ever tasted his flavor, never exactly feeling it shoot inside,

such amounts of his sticky, stringy ropes pour into your womb—you craved it, you could care less of the consequences that would follow. as a single throb from the inside of your clit pulses you back to reality, you feel sukuna’s fangs teasingly bite into your neck. “m-mmph,” he suppresses his moans, an almost whimper being dragged out of his throat. your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, feeling his cock start to introduce its way into your welcoming, greedy walls. your moan rings through his ears, he’s so thick that you feel the head of his cock mold your cunt open, it’s so warm. so tight, a twinge within the undersides of your thighs sting for a moment before you start to succumb into the inevitable pleasure.

“ah ah, don’t shy away now,” he rasps—voice sounding almost hoarse like. once he makes haste with his hips, slam after slam against you, he grips your chin. with hollow cheeks scrunched all up, he sneaks a wet kiss onto your mouth, watching you moan for more affection—more of his sweetly sacred taste. “want me to go in raw?you better stare into my fuckin’ eyes while i claim this meaningless cunt,” and he’s so mean, his entire delivery has you pulsating. the curse’s eyes stare down your body before he starts to present you with jagged, thorough thrusts. with a hand still attached to you chin, he lowly cackles a “heheh,” leaning in to kiss you again. “needy baby. can’t go a second without a kiss,” and in the meanwhile, he’s viciously pounding into your wretched insides. an entire mess, it doesn’t take sukuna long for him to bottom out completely inside of you. “stick out that tongue.”

you’re too dumb to even comprehend anything. just the rhythm of his cock has you in shambles. it’s too good, you comply quickly before lolling out your pretty pink tongue. “such an obedient woman, look at that sloppy tongue, desperate for more of my taste,” he slyly says, and that’s when he leans forward to suck near the pointed tip of your tongue. you’re caught by surprise, expecting him to do something more erotic and filthy such as spitting on your tongue but he just … sucks on it. “always taste sweet for me.”

each time he smacks into you at full force, your ears pop. slow yet steady, this time he nibbles on your tongue—the inner edges of his fangs tickle before he wraps a hand around your throat. “fuck. gonna milk me,” and then he lightly taps against your cheek with his other hand. “is the dumb baby still with me? look at me, girl,” and with hooded eyes, you meet the curse’s gazed his hips were sharp, unlike anything you’ve ever felt. it’s tantalizingly slow, each time he pulls out he purposely shoves himself back in—causing your mewls to only pitch louder. “that’s it. scream. let everyone ‘n this palace know how much of a nasty girl you are for me. louder.”

your whines grow louder, with your ankles rubbing against his back you start to feel his pace come to a slow halt. “k-kuna,” you whimper, his tip smooching against your most sweetest spots again, and again, and again. he feels how warm you are from the inside. the grip was so lewd, his jaw tightens as his weight slams into you countless times until you’re in a looping trance. “inside, finish inside pleasepleaseplease.”

“kiss me first,” he snarls, and almost immediately do you pull him into a sloppy kiss. with breaths heaving, tongue’s tangling, you whine into his mouth as he’s stuffing your cunt full of staggering lengthy inches. he’s so deep that your stomach briefly caves in, the sharp tips of his fingernails tickle against your skin before his thrusts grow deeper. moaning into his mouth, your legs still wrap around his waist before within three more solid pumps, he cums.

sukuna groans into your mouth, hot breath pouring into your mouth as he swipes a tongue against your bottom lip—biting it afterwards. it shoots out so quick, lightening speed. he’s shaking, and since he’s a curse—it’s so much more that he gives you. a plethora of satiny ropes, it trickles into your womb to where it starts leaking out of your sweet hole once he pulls his cock out. “how nasty,” he phews, beefy muscles flexing as his arms stood near the sides of you. despite him heaving in and out, he doesn’t even look remotely tired—instead, sukuna gives you another kiss before you watch as he starts to flip you over. “not done. ‘m gonna have to clean it out of you with my tongue,” he growls, making you chest hit against the plump cushioney pillows. “bend over, princess. let me get a better taste from this angle.”

TOJI ✰ FUSHIGURO.

“yeah yeah, i got you,” he grumbles, cutting off your sentence before arching you all the way over. you gasp at how blunt he is, giving your ass a spank before dragging a fat thumb down your pre soaked cunt. “didn’t plan on wearin’ that shit anyway. they never fuckin’ fit, doll. thanks for the concern though, heh. i’ll be extra careful, promise.”

with toji’s size, condoms would break easily.

if they didn’t break, they were on the very verges of shattering into a zillion pieces. with two riotous hands, he spreads your ass before smacking his fat tip between your folds. “f-fuuuck me already,” you whine out, feeling the naturally provocative arch in your back only stretch further. even his tip, his angry pinkish tip that never fails to split the insides of your pussy open with just a few thrusts, he’s such a tease. chewing on your lip as if it was a substitute for gum, you moan once he leans his face down to slowly spit near your cracking entrance between the crevices of your rear. you shudder, feeling the coldness of his saliva run down your slick, smearing calloused fingertips beneath your dampening folds. “y-you’re so nasty, toji.”

“girl i’ve been called worst but okay,” he gruffs, swiping a tongue against the scar near his lips. despite how you weren’t even facing him, you could just tell he gave you the most sassiest eye roll imaginable. as you’re on all fours, he makes the right side of your cheek hit against the cushioned comforter. “ya sure you wan’ me ‘ta go in raw? ‘m all for it but this ain’t y’er pussy talkin’ instead of that little brain of yours, is it?”

you nod, desperate for him to resume—and he does, but once toji fucks, he fucks mean.

toji fucks like he hates you—of course he doesn’t, but with hips of his, he wasn’t fooling anyone.

just seconds of taking backshots from him and you’re already drooling, the back in your arch couldn’t have been any more slutty. “fuck,” he groans, feeling his dick stretch—extending throughout the gummy areas of your pussy. he reached everywhere, you’re clinging onto the bed before you cutely make an attempt to crawl forward. “oh. where d’ya think y’er goin’?” he groans, giving your ass a spank. you gasp, feeling him drill his thick cock into you so precisely as if his occupation was a construction worker. the only thing he was hammering was your cunt though. with a hand snaking its way into your hair, he gives it a firm tug to make your ass plop back against him. “nah get the fuck back here. no runnin’ today baby. still got a lot more ‘ta give.”

he’s so stuffed into you that you feel your cunt gape around him, your jaw idly dangles open as he’s got your hair in a tight grip. “f-fuuuck, ‘s so big. stretchin’ me, toji, hngh,” and your sweet moans were melodic—simply music to his ears. you felt the pulse from his cock that was buried into you—fat swollen balls of his contour to kiss up against your bare ass, the sounds so loud it sounds like smacks. “a-ah ah ah,” you’d repeat, barely able to keep up with his relentless pace. “gonna cum, ‘toj. gonna c-cum, oh my goddd.”

“oh my goddd, i’m gonna cum too,” he mimics your whine—and by now, his entire body is pushed up against your ass. with a sly piston of his hips, he’s got you right where he wants you. toji chuckles against your ear, choking you with just a tiny amount of pressure before he hums. “you like bein’ fucked raw, don’t’cha? you feel me deep ‘n y’er womb, gorgeous?”

you nod again, your cunt just continues to mend and form around his length sloppily. heavy breaths tear out of your filled up lungs before he bends you way back against the bed. “y-yes, please. cum in me toji, want you to shoot in me, f-fuck please.”

he’s got a firm grip on your hair, yanking it back as he’s jackhammering his thick cock — you feel the jagged edges around him piercing through your insides and he’s just so fucking big.

you whine, sloshes of your own honeyed slick coating toji so well from the very base down. a pretty white ring, “yeah, c’mon. cum with me babygirl, cum on this dick,” and he growls darkly, the incoming build up coursing through his veins. a raw hoarse emits from the back of your throat before you’re cumming. it takes so much out of you, his tip ruthlessly mashing against your g-spot so good. your eyes are ogling, drool seeping from the corners of your lips before he ends up finishing too. never inside, but now—he’s shot a thick load into you raw. it was simply appetizing, toji slows his jerking hips down and he grows quiet. he’s pouring into your cunt with strings of hot balmy cum. with how quickly it is to fill you up, you feel how it just stuffs you to the brim.

that same white translucent ring coats around his fat base and a rough hand of his grips onto your waist. “take it all, fuck,” and you continue to clamp around his dick. it’s so much that it starts to ooze out of your folds, velvety pretty ropes of cum paint the crevices of your thighs—running down your folds and it’s got you so dizzy. his balls that plugged you full remain inside of your sopping cunt, slowing his thrusts down completely before momentarily taking his dick out. “got myself a nasty little bitch, milkin’ me like that,” he gruffs out, smearing a thumb down your now swollen clit. you’re panting, feeling a throbbing sensation pool into your abdomen before he flips you over. “where’s my thank you, doll?”

“t-thank you, toji,” you mewl out, feeling him position himself between your legs now—you’re laid on your back, gasping for air before he cups your chin. with dark coy eyes, he rubs a thumb against your lip. “thank you for finishing in me.”

“y’er welcome, sugar,” he groans, realigning himself against your saturated folds—so soaked, there were still many remnants of hot stringy semen that stuck against your entrance. he pauses, feeling your legs lock around his slim waist before he pauses. with a husky voice, toji plants a single kiss against your lips. “heh. ya are on the pill though, right?”

“…….”

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! ❞

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

✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader

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

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

✧ w/c: 8,446

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

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

And now it was just him.

Because you were gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru grinned, “I know.”’

Yeah, he should have never gotten out of bed.

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

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

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

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

~~~

Was this how it would end?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes burn with tears. And you needed him.

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kidnapper’s eyes narrowed, “What?”

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

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

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

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

You know he means it.

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

But it seems he was too lax.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru—“

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

“I have to make an example.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

You were asleep.

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

But you didn’t. You’re here.

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

But you could disappear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Knew what?”

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

“Satoru—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

“But—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But never himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins, “If you insist,”

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can’t hold back.

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

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

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

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

“Toru—” you whine.

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

~~~

It was early, but Satoru was already awake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—But it wasn’t the time for that.

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

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

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

“Are you ever serious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

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

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

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

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[obsesssedblerd]

“Wahhh!” 

“Nooooo!” 

“Bwahhhhhh!” 

“I don’t care, she was mine first!!!” 

“WAHHH!” 

“AHHHHHHH-” 

“Satoru Gojo,” you snap and glare at your husband, who’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter. Your seven month-old son also begins laughing. It’s so cute that you almost forget that the two were screaming at each other just seconds ago. 

Satoru lifts his head up to grin handsomely at you, feigning innocence. “Yes, wifey?” 

“Why on earth are you screaming with your son at eight o’clock in the morning?” You ask. 

“Because,” he whines, pointing an accusing finger at your baby boy, who had begun cooing adorably for your attention. “He won’t let me kiss you! Watch what happens.” To demonstrate, Satoru gently leans in, only to be stopped when the baby uses his tiny hands to push against his face with a loud whine. You stifle a laugh when he pouts, squinting his eyes at your son. “Listen, just because you’re laying here, doesn’t mean that you can just keep me from giving my wife a little smooch.” 

Your son doesn’t budge. “Bwah!” 

“Okay, and?!” Satoru exclaims with a tilt of his head.

You roll your eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually arguing with him.” 

“Kid’s got a mouth on him.” 

“How do you even know what he said– You know what? Don’t answer that. Anyway, he’s your kid. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t sassy.” 

Satoru gasps dramatically. “I am not sassy.” Next to him, your son matches his pout with a hmph, and since he was born with Satoru’s hair and eye color, he basically looked like a tiny version of him. “See?” He asks, gesturing to his mini. “Even he agrees with me!” 

“Sure he does,” you say, then turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling through a grocery delivery app so you can start ordering things for the week 

“And back to you,” you hear Satoru continue with your son, “I just want to kiss her cheek, and you’re just– hey, no sticking out your tongue at me.” The baby babbles, and Satoru scoffs. “No, I’m not cryin’. What’re you talking about?” 

You laugh quietly. If this was how it was now, you couldn’t wait to see what it’s going to be like in the future.

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date