#idk what exactly would define this new separate verse

[impishsensei]

@songcurse asked: Drunk-Tipsy! Prompt: Utahime's had a little bit too much to drink. She rests her cheek on her palm, watching him from under her long lashes. "You know, Gojo." Holding her drink up, she smiles at him coquettishly. Her feet underneath the table trail along his thigh toward his crotch applying pressure. Her cheeks flushed and she's giggling playfully. "I think I want to have your baby." Tonight, they were alone at the bar, Shoko had to leave, an emergency 'work' call. Gojo was tasked with looking after Utahime. "I'm ovulating," she informs him as if he needs to know. "Want to make me pregnant? I'm sure if it's you, you would get me pregnant.

satoru thought being placed on drunk-utahime duty might be classified under cruel and unusual torture, but only for him specifically. utahime normally was mildly annoyed with him on a good day, and he was alright with that. that was business as usual. an intoxicated utahime became an entirely different person. for whatever reason, he became her favorite person. she clung to him like a lost puppy, whining whenever he'd try to get away. she was so flirty and touchy and it drove him crazy.

he liked her, she'd sooner kiss a frog then him, that was their whole deal. he almost felt like she was testing him whenever she drank—like she was playing some fucked up prank on him that judged his character. sometimes it wasn't so bad, but it wasn't one of those days. for how forward she got, she'd never actually felt him up or asked him to knock her up. he could, so easily, and some fucked up part of him wants to be convinced, but he cares about her. he would never hurt her. she was drunk, and he wasn't. on top of it being wrong, he wanted her interest in him to be real, not some drunken horny delusion he knew she'd regret and hate him for.

"utahime," he chastised, his tone firm as his fingers took a hold of her ankle and he pulled her foot away from his crotch. "you're drunk. you barely even tolerate me. stop. you don't know what you're talking about or what you're asking for." he had a silent resolve, as no one would ever commend him for it or even know, but it persisted in every single one of his actions.

satoru had to be careful just interacting with the world around him because he could break things without thinking of it too much, like he was fucking spider-man or something. curses that horribly slaughtered countless of his allies over the years were squashed like little more than bugs to him. he was without a doubt the strongest man on earth in centuries—perhaps even since the heian era—with the means to subjugate entire countries with little effort on his part.

sometimes, he wanted to follow his whims. fortunately for humanity, he was a decent guy. he needed to step out and get some air and calm down. the thought that she'd placed in his head and the mental image it conjured in his mind's eye was enough to make his jaw clench and the fist curled atop his knee (the hand that wasn't wrapped around utahime's ankle) tremble.

"are you playing a prank on me? it's not funny. i think i need to drop you off at your place—you've drank TOO MUCH, saying these things and not acting like yourself."