#if gojo had to be a dog instead of a cat

[yandere-daydreams]

i knowwww yuji gives off golden energy but omg PITBULL YUJI???

(im biased, theyre one of my favorite dogs cuz i grew up with them, my current dog is a pit shepherd mix and unfortunately he looks and acts more like a shepherd lol)

i do think he's more of a golden lab/retriever appearance-wise but in my heart there exists only pitbull!yuuji. i'm also biased bc my childhood dog was a pitbull mix and also the best dog, but he's just so sweet and so strong with truly not a single thought in his pretty head and if that's not the exact definition of a pitbull then i don't know what is T-T yuuta i will accept suggestions for but i think yuuji is pretty well-defined.

[1-800-kami]

4:23 pm | the adventures of dad!gojo

content: 0.9k words, fem!reader, dad gojo, megumi is your son, silly crack fic

gojo satoru is a man with very little fears.

in actuality, people are afraid of him. a mere gaze from those cerulean blue eyes of his sends people running off to the opposite direction, so the adjective “intimidating” was quite the understatement to describe him. some might even say that he’s the strongest, so he possesses no fear at all.

despite that, gojo has one thing he’s deathly afraid of: you–his wife, when you’re angry.

“suguru, help me out here!” geto can physically feel his bestfriend’s panic through the phone. gojo explained the situation in a fast ramble–geto could barely understand what he was saying, but he thinks he got the gist of it: you went out to run some errands and entrusted gojo to take care of your two year old child, megumi, while you were out. gojo conjured up the genius idea of keeping megumi entertained by handing him a paper and markers–so that they could surprise you with megumi’s amazing artistic abilities once you came back home.

it had gone “so well”, gojo said earlier, picking up the paper and studying it. “i think this is a drawing of a cat? or a dog, i don’t really know.. still, it’s made by my son, and it’s the peak of art and i think everyone should see it!”

gojo was so busy trying to decipher what megumi had drawn that he didn’t realize that his son still had the markers in his hands. when he peers over to look at megumi again, he just about screamed.

“gumi- no- GUMI!” he shrieks, snatching the markers away from his son’s hold. megumi, not having a paper to draw on anymore, decided to use the wall as his canvas instead—sketching a poorly drawn house with a bright red marker. “you’re not supposed to draw on the wall! aw fuc-ahem, freak… your mom’s gonna kill me…”

“gosh suguru, some advice would help!” satoru’s never been so afraid in all his years of living. you’re coming home pretty soon, and he has no idea what to do. he’s already imagining the look on your face–and it’s pushing satoru to the brink of passing out. gojo satoru–the renowned sorcerer who’s fought the king of curses, been sealed away in a box and has had multiple near death experiences–all of these things have happened to him yet none can compare to the fear of facing his wife when she’s angry.

“hmm? what is it, nanako?” satoru can hear his bestfriend trying not to laugh over the phone. suguru knows an easy solution to his problem, but he thinks that leaving satoru in the dark is funnier. it’s rare to see the strongest sorcerer like this, so geto revels in it with pure amusement. “you’re hungry? okay… let’s see what i can make for you, yeah?”

“you heard her, satoru~ one of the twins are hungry. i’m afraid i have to go… good luck about the markers, yeah?” suguru hangs up before satoru could say a word. he curses under his breath, but feels his heart stop when he hears the door unlock.

you’re home.

“mama!” megumi yells, clapping his hands and slowly crawling over to the front door. you happily greet your son, placing the grocery bags on the table.

you walk over to your husband, kissing him on the cheek before noticing the piece of paper that he’s holding. “oh? what’s this?”

you grab the paper from his hands and satoru regains a little bit of his composure once he hears you coo at your son’s drawing. “thought it would be nice for me and megumi to surprise you while you were gone… it’s a drawing of a cat-”

“horsey!”

“...a horse. yup, that’s what i said!” he sheepishly ignores his son’s glare, mentally preparing himself to tell you about the wall.

“i love it! oh my gosh, megumi, aren’t you just a little artist?” you say, ruffling your son’s hair with a big smile. “this is definitely going on the fridge.”

“...there’s one small problem, though…” satoru refuses to meet your gaze.

“what did you do this time, satoru?”

“hey, it technically wasn’t me!” he says, this time being the one to shoot the glare at his son. “so hypothetically…what if i told you that gumi thought it would be a nicer idea to use the wall as a canvas instead of the paper?”

“...”

satoru perceives your silence as his death sentence. “look, i’m sorry! i was trying to figure out what he drew and i forgot that he still had the markers in his hands-”

“satoru-”

“and the next thing i know, he drew on the wall before i was able to take the markers from him-”

“toru-”

“and suguru wasn’t giving me advice either, but then-”

“satoru!” your final yell finally breaks him from his ramble. he’s surprised to see that no, you don’t have a look of murder on your face. in fact, you’re actually smiling—looking more amused than anything.

“satoru, they’re washable markers.” you take a baby wipe from your purse and walk over to the wall, wiping away the bright red marker strokes easily with a few swipes. you’re trying not to laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “did you not know that?”

now he’s the one stunned into silence. “...”

“no, no… i definitely knew that…!”

“yeah, sure you did.”

being a father is so difficult.

[literaila]

Triple dog dare you to write a snuggle session for atf after Gojo has a terrible day (pls I saw you were looking for ideas but no pressure 💗💗)

“are you frowning?”

satoru, who has been laying face down in bed right next to you for the last seven minutes, does not move.

you’re almost concerned that he died with his nose stuffed in the pillow but he says “no,” and then exhales aggressively into the sheets.

so at least he’s alive, if very dramatic. what else is new?

“are you lying?”

“no.”

“are you sure?”

“no.”

you refrain an eye roll and set down your book.

twenty minutes ago satoru had walked into the living room—where tsumiki was explaining something about knitting to you (of which you understood about 12% of)—and said “come to bed,” with a very serious look on his face.

twenty minutes ago satoru also turned right around and walked away, not bothering to elaborate in the slightest.

so you’d huffed at your daughter, kissed her cheek and told her to go to bed soon, and proceeded to do as your clingy, needy, not very communicative husband asked.

maybe you should’ve thought about it a bit longer.

to be fair, satoru just asked you to follow him to bed—he never said anything about tending to him. so you’d ignored his crossed arms as he sat there and changed into your pajamas.

you brushed your teeth and put on lotion and acted like his petulant look and the mood he was oozing all over the duvet was insignificant to you.

you’d even picked up your book, pretending to read as he flopped down next to you.

and then you waited.

but maybe you should’ve just asked. because now you have to deal with the satoru who refuses to turn over and look at you. the same one who is going to lie for at least another two minutes.

marriage is difficult.

satoru turns his face, cheek smushed and lips pursed. “how’d you know?”

“you sighed like… twenty times.”

“no i didn’t.”

and then you push at his shoulder, trying to move him yourself. but satoru is heavy and stubborn and he barely budges an inch.

really, you should’ve just stayed with tsumiki.

“this is sad,” he mumbles, after a minute of your struggling, a plane of hormones and bad attitudes.

“you need to lay off on the mochi,” you tell him, pulling at his hair.

“body shaming is rude.”

“so is ignoring your wife.”

finally he pushes up off of the bed with his arms. but instead of turning to face you, or saying “i need a hug,” or whispering that he’s tired or doing anything normal—satoru just turns away from you, huffing once again.

he’s now facing the wall, arms crossed. “you’re one to talk,” he mumbles, entirely immature.

the child inside of you is jumping for joy. you have loved irritating him since you were a teenager—and this is really no different.

but satoru is already upset, already difficult, and you’re going to fix it even if he doesn’t want you to.

so you refrain a grin because that would be cruel. you wait a moment—maybe for him to say something, even though you know he won’t. “satoru?”

“what?”

“you okay?”

“oh, so now you care?”

“what? i was waiting for you to say something.”

“you ignored me,” he’s whining and making sure that you can feel his indignation.

he gets in these moods sometimes, where everything he says is in an effort to prove you wrong. to win, even though there’s never any real fight he wants to put up.

it’s kind of endearing. and also very annoying.

still, you laugh. “was i supposed to run you a bath? go wake up megumi and ask him how your day was and then come back to tend to you?”

“you’re supposed to cuddle me,” he’s pouting, saying it so soft so he doesn’t have to admit defeat. you know from a decade of being in love with him.

but, almost despite yourself, you smile, staring at his back.

at least he’s relaxed a little—even if he’s irritated, or frustrated, or just exhausted.

you know that if you just kiss his neck a little and play with his hair he’ll preen like a cat and fall asleep in three minutes.

and maybe it’s just a little bit fun to mess with him—maybe you’ve taken a page out of his book.

who can blame you, anyway?

“satoru,” you say again, and push one of your legs under his. he barely moves, stiffening up where your hands meet his shoulders. “c’mon, i’ll let you be the little spoon,” you whisper, trying to duck down to meet his eyes.

satoru glances up. “really?”

you kiss his cheek. “only if you stop pouting.”

so he goes limp and you push your leg between his, bending until he’s molded into you, hands tucking under his arms, lips just against the nape of his neck.

satoru squirms a little bit—just until he’s completely covered by you, no inch of skin left behind.

and you’re pressed up against him, arms holding him to you.

“good?” you ask him, against the shell of his ear.

he just huffs, but he doesn’t move, barely breathes—and he’s not pouting.

one more minute and you’ll have him grinning again.

you wait a moment, allowing satoru’s fingers to find the sleeve of your shirt, hands fidgeting as he thinks.

“do you want to talk about it?” you ask him.

“no.”

you hum. “are you sure?”

“stop trying to trick me,” he says, pinching at your wrist.

you just shake his hand off, returning after a moment to intertwine your fingers with his. “don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“i know what you’re doing.”

“do you?”

he tilts his neck until your nose is pressed against him, nodding. “that’s what i always do. and you’re doing it wrong.”

“it always makes me feel better. is it working?”

“you can’t beat me.”

you peck at his skin. “i think it’s working.”

satoru just grunts, too tired and maybe too annoyed to say anything else.

but it’s working.

you’ve always worked with him like this—the two of you too similar to back down from each other, too familiar to not what the other is thinking, to not feel it.

“hey,” you whisper, when he doesn’t say anything else.

“hmm?”

“i love you.”

satoru turns a bit, so it’s more like you’re holding him, so you can wrap your arms around his torso and keep him even closer. you allow it, pretend it’s not happening—just for his sake.

but he’s warm, even if he’s sad—and he always smells nice, always feels the same.

his moments are stilted, though, as he relaxes. satoru has always been similar to a toddler—he gets cranky when he’s tired.

maybe you should’ve warmed him up some milk too.

“you better,” he finally tells you, like a threat but softer.

“do you want me to tell you a bed time story?”

and satoru is turning his head so you can’t see his lips, but he almost laughs, eyes beginning to blur.

“just stay there,” he whispers, not a request.

and you do.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

A/N: 🚨🚨 Lobotomy Kaisen: Bootleg K-Drama Edition 🚨🚨 At this point, I am single-handedly running a low-budget, emotionally devastating K-drama, funded by ₩5 & the spare serotonin I found when my cat smacked me. This chapter? Peak “second lead deserved better” energy. If you squint (or are sadistic), our Nanago girlies are feasting tonight. To my loyal readers who send comments/messages—y’all are the reason this fic is still breathing. I had fully lost hope in this series bcs I thought no one wanted to read it anymore, & I had the worst writers block ever, but here we are, back from the grave. Small confession: I proofread this while high on my sleep meds (calm down, it’s all prescribed—ya girl’s got Olympic-level insomnia). So, if some bits feel like I hijacked my own fic mid-scene or if a random paragraph hits like Whiplash—congrats, you’ve found one of my self-inflicted plot derailments. Think of it as an Easter egg hunt: Find the bits that are just me roasting my own writing and/or hating on the men shamelessly. Bonus points if you guess which parts were written before vs. after I started hallucinating colors with smells. Don’t worry, next updates will be soon—turns out being delirious is my peak creative state because now I have too many ideas for my hands to be able to write before detaching themselves from me & asking for labor law rights. Now, let’s dive into this delicious dumpster fire. 🔥

Previous Chapter 15 (alt ending 2.6) - Ibiza (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 16 (alt ending 2.7) - Placeholder: This Should Have Been Love

Few Years Ago: Before Realizing

The Golden Era of Group Chats (Before You Ruined Everything)

Group Chat: Gohoe & his pimps 🏴‍☠️📜🍷

(Created by Hentai Kakashi. The name changed hourly. Nanami kept changing it back to ‘No.’)

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: Did you eat?

You: Yes.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: PROVE IT.

You: ??

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: SEND A PIC or it didn’t happs.

His English was still bad.

You: This is weird.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: Stop entertaining him.

After a while of staging an “accidental” run-in with you that day, the men had to return home—not because they wanted to, but because Yaga was dangerously close to storming in and dragging them back to Japan by their ears. Nanami reluctantly dragged Gojo away, though the latter’s protests were loud enough to echo through the entire airport. You promised to stay in touch, waving them off with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Surely, they’d have someone back home—someone more suited to their chaotic, high-stakes lives. And after all the harmless flirting, they’d forget about you once they got back to fighting curses and dealing with the endless drama of the Jujutsu world.

But they didn’t.

Instead, they texted. Whenever they had time. And you replied whenever you had time. It started out fine. Normal, even.

The time zones made it tricky, but you’d figured out a system. Calls were rare—Nanami refused to let you stay up past midnight, and Gojo somehow always picked the worst possible times—but texting was manageable.

The group chat, though, was a disaster.

It existed mostly as a place to roast Gojo. He’d been banned from sending voice notes after holding down the button and belting out an entire off-key rendition of Smooth Operator with his cute English. Nanami only typed in full sentences, like an exasperated father monitoring his delinquent child. And you? You contributed memes, the occasional insult, and once a video of Megumi’s dogs destroying your latest gaming console prototype, which made Nanami send a single, ominous, "That was preventable."

Sometimes, Gojo’s texts were absolute nonsense:

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: If I die, tell everyone I was hot and mysterious.

You: No one thought you were mysterious.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: No one thought you were hot either.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: YOU KNOW WHAT. BOTH OF YOU ARE BLOCKED.

Or completely deranged:

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: What if we kissed but also you let me name your next game protagonist?

You: Oh no.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: Don’t engage.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: Come onnnn 😚 I already have names picked out:

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: 1. DomainDripLord

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: 2. SixEyesSnipes

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: 3. xX_LimitlessCarryGod_Xx

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: 4. InfinityFlexxer

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: 5. HollowPurplePapi

You: No one is calling you Papi, freak. Kento, please install parental control in his phone; he’s spending too much time with 14-year-olds.

Nanami’s texts were, as expected, normal and adult-like in comparison:

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: I read an article about the burnout in the gaming industry today. Are you facing similar challenges?

You: Yeah. Work’s been exhausting.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: Take a break.

You: Wow. I didn’t think of that. Thanks, genius.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: …

And yet, sometimes, he too could be unhinged:

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: Gojo is currently attempting to cook.

You: Oh god.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: WHO SAID I COULDN’T??

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: The smoke alarm.

You: I just saw a guy at the store that looked exactly like a younger version of Kento.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: OH MY GOD BABY NANAMIN?? WAS HE WEARING A SUIT???

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: I am blocking both of you.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: [Image Attached: a blurry zoom-in of some random salaryman in a tan suit.]

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: NANAMI IS THIS YOUR SECRET SON???

You: DNA TEST WHEN?

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: You are both insufferable.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: THAT'S NOT A NO.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: [Nanami has left the chat.]

You: LMFAOOOO HE LEFT.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: He’ll come back. He always does.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: [Nanami has rejoined the chat.]

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: If either of you texts before 6 AM again, I will make sure you regret it.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: SEE?? HE CAN’T STAY AWAY.

You: Stockholm syndrome, honestly.

Daddy Blade🗼⛓️: It is not Stockholm syndrome. It is suffering.

But beyond the chaos of the group chat, real conversations happened in private messages.

Gojo was an unpredictable texter. Sometimes he’d disappear for days, only to spam you with a series of completely unrelated messages at three in the morning.

03:03 AM

Hentai Kakashi: Hey. R u up?

03:07 AM

Hentai Kakashi: No wait. Sleep. Nanamin will kill me if he finds out I woke u up. Again.

03:09 AM

Hentai Kakashi: But like. If u are awake. I had a nightmare. It was about… ducks. A whole army of them. Staring. Judging. I think I have enemies in the bird community.

03:15 AM

Hentai Kakashi: …Ok I’ll stop now. Goodnight.

03:16 AM

Hentai Kakashi: But if u wake up and see this, pls validate me. Ducks are scary.

Nanami, on the other hand, texted with the precision of a man writing formal emails even when sleep-deprived.

07:30 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: Good morning.

07:32 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: I assume you are still asleep. That is good. Sleep is important.

07:45 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: When you wake up, let me know if you need anything.

09:14 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: I received an alert about a financial transaction on your account. Did you just spend an unreasonable amount of money on coffee and, if so, was it necessary?

09:16 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: Never mind. That was a redundant question. Of course it was not necessary.

09:17 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: I am not controlling your finances, but I am concerned about your caffeine intake.

09:45 AM

Tax Evasion Daddy: I hope you had breakfast.

10:00 AM

You: How'd you get my spending details??? 💀 

But beyond the chaos, beneath all the sarcasm and petty fights, something real lingered in their messages.

Even in the absurdity of Gojo’s 3 AM texts, even in Nanami’s overly formal check-ins.

They weren’t just texting because they were bored.

And neither were you.

It should have been frustrating, but it wasn’t.

You started checking your phone between meetings, expecting their names to pop up. You caught yourself laughing at one of Gojo’s ridiculous voice messages. You reread Nanami’s texts at night, the weight of his words lingering long after you put your phone down.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what this meant.

And that was the problem.

Because you’d never let yourself want something like this.

So you did what you always did when something felt too big, too complicated. You ran.

Not literally. Not yet.

But you started responding less. You claimed you were busy—which wasn’t even a lie, just a convenient excuse. You let calls go to voicemail. The group chat became an unread notification you swiped away without a second thought.

It didn’t take them long to notice.

Gojo was the first to call you out.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: You hate us now??? damn. Guess I'll go die in a ditch.

Sensei Slay☀️🦕: Or maybe you just love Nanamin more than me. Understandable. Tragic. But understandable.

Nanami’s response was quieter. Less obvious.

Sassy Daddy🗼⛓️: You’ve been distant. Is something wrong?

You stared at both messages for a long time, your thumb hovering over the screen. Then, because you were a coward, you pretended you never saw them.

Then the first time you ignored Gojo’s call, it was easy. A swipe of your finger, a breath held just long enough to pretend you didn’t see his name flash across your screen. The second time, Nanami called, and you let it ring until the silence settled into something heavier than guilt. By the fifth time, you started putting your phone on Do Not Disturb, convincing yourself it was because of work—because you were a trillionaire CEO with a company to run, not because your heart clenched every time you saw their names. Not because you felt like an idiot for wanting two men when you swore you’d never be the kind of person who couldn’t make a decision.

So you disappeared—not physically, not yet, but in the ways that mattered. Texts went unanswered, YouTube videos met with professional coldness. When Gojo sent a selfie of himself eating cake, whining about missing you, you left him on read. When Nanami sent a curt message asking if you were alright, you typed out a response—I’m fine, just busy—and stared at it for a full minute before deleting it.

You didn’t expect them to let it slide forever. But you didn’t expect them to show up, either.

It didn’t work.

Because two special-grade sorcerers were not the kind of men who let things go.

And the next time you walked into your office, sleep-deprived and convinced you’d successfully avoided your feelings, you found them both waiting for you.

Gojo was stretched out in your chair, his long legs propped up on your desk, sunglasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. Nanami stood beside him, arms crossed, his sharp gaze cutting through you like he’d already run out of patience.

You stopped in your tracks, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Surprise Sweetheart” Gojo drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tilted his head to look at you.

Nanami didn’t smile. His voice was low, steady, and impossibly soft. “We need to talk.”

The jet lands before dawn. You didn’t know that, of course, not yet. You didn’t know that Gojo and Nanami spent the entire flight arguing about whether to ambush you at work or at home. (Nanami, of course, thought home was the better choice—less spectacle, less drama. Gojo, being Gojo, argued that spectacle and drama were necessary.)

You stopped dead.

Gojo grinned. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t our favorite CEO. What’s the matter, sweetheart? Forgot how to text?”

Nanami’s voice cut through, calm but firm. “We’re not here to play games. You’ve been avoiding us.”

Your throat went dry. “I’ve been busy.”

Your fingers twitched against your phone, a fight-or-flight response that neither of them would let you act on. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Nanami exhaled, slow and measured, like he was holding back a lecture. “We should be asking you that.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your face carefully neutral. “I don’t have time for this. I have a meeting—”

“Canceled,” Gojo interrupted, leaning back in your chair with a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Something about an emergency security issue? Wow, wonder who could’ve arranged that.”

You stared at him, your mouth parting in disbelief. “You—”

Nanami stepped in before you could finish. “You’ve been ignoring us,” he said, his voice steady, but there was an edge to it now, something dangerously close to frustration. “Avoiding us.”

You scoffed, looking anywhere but at them. “I’ve been busy.”

Gojo hummed, the sound low and teasing. “Busy running away?”

“Busy working,” you snapped, though the words felt hollow even as they left your mouth.

“Right,” Gojo drawled, his tone dripping with skepticism. “And we’re supposed to believe that?”

“I don’t really care what you believe,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself.

Nanami’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing just enough to make your stomach twist. “Then say it.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Say what?”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm, amusement flickering across his face like he already knew the answer. “Say that you don’t have feelings for us. That’s why you’re avoiding us, right? Because you don’t care?”

Your stomach dropped. You hated how easy it was for them to see through you. Hated that your usual defenses crumbled the moment they stepped into the same room. Hated that they could strip you bare with nothing but a look and a few well-placed words.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to join Kurt Cobain if you jumped from this height.

You forced a too loud laugh, the sound brittle and unconvincing. “That’s ridiculous.”

Nanami’s jaw tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin. Gojo just tilted his head, watching you too closely, his piercing blue eyes cutting through every lie you tried to tell yourself.

“Then look me in the eyes and say it,” Gojo murmured, his voice soft but commanding.

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, until Nanami finally broke it. “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something that sounded almost like relief, but he was smirking too smugly for your liking.

Your throat tightened, your chest aching with the weight of everything you’d been trying to avoid. You wanted to argue, to deny it, to slip out of this conversation like you’d slipped out of their reach for weeks. But you couldn’t. Not when they were standing in front of you, not when the weight of your own feelings had finally caught up.

Gojo sighed, but for once, there was no teasing in his voice. Just something softer, something real. “You don’t have to pick, you know.”

That finally did it. Eighty-four floors were more than enough. “Kurt, please wait for me,” you thought.

Your breath was caught, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure they could hear it.

Nanami nodded, his expression softening just enough to make your chest ache. “We already decided. It’s the three of us. Not one or the other.”

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d spent weeks convincing yourself that loving them both was impossible, selfish, an equation that couldn’t be solved. But here they were, standing in front of you, telling you that the answer had always been simple.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your desk like it was the only thing keeping you upright. “You’re both so dorky,” you muttered, your voice hoarse.

Gojo laughed, the sound bright and triumphant. “Yeah, but we’re your dorks.”

Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting this entire conversation. “Don’t encourage him.”

But there was relief in his voice. A quiet kind of victory.

And for the first time in weeks, you let yourself breathe.

---

Present Day

But that was before you fully let yourself fall for them, before you started having fleeting thoughts of a life with them—of lazy mornings tangled in sheets, of quiet evenings where their laughter filled the spaces between your heartbeats. Before you let yourself imagine what it would be like to belong to them, completely and irrevocably.

But now,

There was a line—an invisible, aching thing stretching between you and them. You weren’t sure when it had started forming, but you knew where it ended.

Right here.

Right now.

At the mall, with Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento trailing behind you, whispering like you couldn’t hear them.

Something something mania.

You didn’t care to listen. You had other priorities—like replacing your third shattered phone this month and reclaiming some semblance of independence. For how long were you supposed to keep hijacking Nanami’s phone like a child? How long were you supposed to pretend that this was normal? That you were normal?

You reached the phone store, found the model you liked, and walked straight up to the support counter, waving a salesperson over.

“I like this one,” you said, your voice even, though your chest felt like it was cracking open. “Can you get me a higher storage version?”

The salesman smiled, nodding. “Great choice. Very privacy-forward. I’m sure we have what you need.”

He stepped away to grab the phone, and you exhaled slowly, rubbing your palm against the swell of your stomach. Six months. Six months of waiting, of watching them orbit each other like you were an afterthought.

A prisoner, not a partner.

The salesman returned, holding up the upgraded model. “This should work. Anything else?”

“Yes.” You reached for the box, your fingers brushing against the cool surface. “I’ll take two. And two SIM cards. One of them will pay.” You gestured vaguely toward Gojo and Nanami, who were still lost in their private discussion, their voices hushed but not enough.

“She’s spiraling, Kento.”

“She’s grieving, Satoru.”

“She’s—”

They stopped when they noticed the way the salesman was staring at them, waiting.

For a second, they looked like deer in headlights.

Then, resigned, Gojo fumbled for his card, barely looking at the total. Nanami sighed, shoulders tense, running a hand down his face. They weren’t paying attention. They never paid attention.

You took the chance to test the new phone’s camera, snapping a few selfies to see if the quality was worth the price. Another salesperson handed you an unopened box of the same variant, and you thanked them quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

At the counter, Gojo fumbled with his card, absentmindedly agreeing to every add-on the salesperson suggested. He was too busy arguing with Nanami—about you, about how you were “going insane,” about how they needed to “handle this.”

Behind you, a girl—one of the employees—perked up, her eyes widening as she stared at Gojo.

“Wait… are you Gojo?”

Gojo turned, slow as death, his sunglasses sliding down his nose just enough to reveal the sharp glint of his eyes. Nanami stiffened beside him, his hand twitching like he was ready to grab you and bolt.

You didn’t even blink, already typing out a message to Haibara. The girl’s voice was background noise, an annoyance you didn’t have the energy to acknowledge.

But she wasn’t deterred. “I saw you guys on TV. You’re, like… so strong.”

You felt Gojo gesturing—probably for her to shut the fuck up—but it was too late. The damage was done.

You turned slowly, your expression blank, your voice flat. “Yes,” you said, cutting through the awkward tension like a knife. “They are them. You can have them if you like.”

The girl’s blush deepened, her hands fluttering nervously. “Oh, no, I—”

“But don’t get too attached.” You tilted your head, smiling too sharp, too cold. “They’re only out until their surrogate wife’s babies are born. Then they’re going back to jail.”

Behind you, Gojo exhaled sharply. Nanami tensed, his jaw tightening as he stared at the floor like it might swallow him whole. The male salesman—who had been ringing up your order—looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“…I just wanted to know how they’re so strong,” the girl mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled again. Fake. Strained. Hollow.

“Sure you did.”

A long silence stretched out, thick with something unnamed. The air in the store felt heavier, the fluorescent lights too bright, the hum of the AC too loud.

By the time the transaction was complete, the energy in the store had shifted. The male salesman was glaring at his co-worker like she’d nearly cost him his commission.

You didn’t care. You took the bag and walked out, your steps quick and deliberate, straight toward the next store.

You picked up some photography accessories, shooting a death glare at any male salesman who dared approach you, ready to mansplain his way into a commission. You didn’t need to listen to some mediocre Instagram photographer explain something you’d been doing nearly all your life. (Okay, fine, maybe you were projecting your anger onto innocent retail workers instead of your husbands, but in your defense, this wasn’t about them.)

A light, a few backdrops, a tripod—whatever you needed, you already knew which ones you wanted. The motions were mechanical, your mind elsewhere, your body moving on autopilot like a sleep-deprived robot with a shopping list.

The salesman handed you the receipt, and you took it without a word, your hands trembling slightly as you shoved it into your bag. You didn’t look at Gojo or Nanami as you turned and walked away, your steps quick and deliberate.

Then, before you knew it, you were being dragged toward the Mommy & Me stores.

And the walls started closing in again.

Gojo and Nanami flanked you, their voices low but insistent, cutting through the haze of your thoughts like knives.

“You need to rest,” Nanami said, his tone firm but distant, like he was speaking to a stranger—like he hadn’t spent the last six months auctioning off your bed, your life, your body.

“You’re overdoing it,” Gojo added, his usual teasing replaced by something sharper, something that felt too much like concern. It was the kind of concern that made your skin crawl, the kind that felt less like care and more like control.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Not when your chest felt like it was cracking open, not when every step felt like a battle you were losing.

The store was a blur of pastel colors and soft fabrics, a world that felt so far removed from the chaos in your mind. You stared at the tiny clothes, the cribs, the stuffed animals, and felt nothing.

Nothing but the weight of the twins growing inside you.

Nothing but the ache in your chest, the hollow emptiness that no amount of baby clothes or nursery decor could fill.

Nothing but the crushing realization that the men beside you—the fathers of your children—saw you as a problem to be managed, not a person.

You were drowning, and they were too busy arguing about the water to notice.

The baby store smelled of lavender and plastic, a cloying mix of nostalgia and artificial newness. You stood between Gojo and Nanami, one hand pressed absently to your belly, the other gripping the handle of the shopping cart as they debated the necessity of a wipe warmer.

“I’m just saying, if we’re going all out, we might as well,” Gojo mused, flipping the box over to read the specs like it was a tactical decision. “Imagine tiny little butts being caressed by warmth.”

Nanami barely glanced at him. “It’s a scam. Babies don’t care about temperature consistency.”

“They don’t care about their own temperature consistency. We, however, should care. What if cold wipes wake them up at night?”

“They’ll be awake anyway.”

You stood between them, a silent observer in your own story. Once, their bickering had been the background noise of your happiest moments. Now, it felt like white noise, like the hum of an appliance left running in a room you were never in.

“Like you both will be there when they need diaper changes,” you snorted, walking ahead, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

They didn’t hear you. Or they did but acted like you were some teenager, best left ignored.

You stared at the row of cribs. White. Mahogany. Scandinavian minimalism. They all blurred together. It wasn’t like they needed your opinion.

“The grey one matches the nursery theme,” Nanami said, nodding toward a sleek, modern crib.

Gojo hummed in agreement. “Yeah. And it’ll look good next to the changing table.”

You hadn’t even talked about it, let alone agreed to a theme. You opened your mouth. Closed it. They had already moved on.

The raccoon’s wardrobe was next—because, of course, they had to take that away from you too.

Gojo held up a tiny hoodie, designed for some bougie suburban dog. “You think the little guy would like this?”

Nanami gave him a long, exhausted stare. “It’s a raccoon.”

Gojo grinned. “Don’t talk about feral rizz like that.”

They shared one of those looks. The kind that made your chest tighten like a wound being pulled shut with the wrong stitches.

You exhaled. Slowly.

Gojo turned to you suddenly, almost like he had just now remembered you were here. “You okay, sweetheart?”

Your hand moved to your belly, a habit, a tether.

“I’m fine,” you said, which was mostly true.

They nodded and went back to discussing the best baby monitor on the market, and you wondered, idly, if they would even notice if you walked out.

You were the one carrying the twins. The reason they were here, picking out soft blankets and pacifiers. But standing there, watching them plan a future with such efficiency, such ease, you couldn’t help but feel like the unnecessary part of a perfectly functional equation.

Like a placeholder.

The baby store faded behind you, swallowed by the artificial glow of the mall’s overhead lights. You walked, your pace measured but unhurried, one hand resting absently on your belly like you were carrying the weight of the world and not just two tiny humans.

They wouldn’t notice you were gone. Not immediately. Maybe not at all.

The food court smelled like salt, grease, and something sweet frying in oil—like nostalgia and poor life choices. It was loud—families arguing over pizza, teenagers screeching over TikTok trends, and the occasional lost businessman tapping furiously on his phone like he was single-handedly saving the economy.

You ordered a burger. No truffle aioli, no organic bullshit, no “let’s elevate this dining experience," no "Darling, you can’t eat Nutella straight from the jar then horde the jar because you are too swollen to move,” no "Pookie, you fart stinky now pregnant,” nonsense—just a plain, greasy burger wrapped in crinkled paper. The cashier looked at your stomach, then at you, and asked if you wanted a second one.

You did.

You sat alone at a table, the kind that wobbled slightly if you leaned the wrong way. The first bite was perfect—warm, messy, real. The kind of real that wasn’t curated, wasn’t planned or debated over like a fucking nursery theme.

You chewed slowly, scrolling through your phone and watching a video of a raccoon stealing a hot dog from a toddler (it may or may not have featured Haibara and your feral son). It was the kind of content that made you feel seen.

Back in the store, Gojo was probably making some ridiculous argument about baby socks needing to be designer. “They’re not just socks, Nanami, they’re a statement,” he’d say, holding up a pair with little Gucci logos on them. Nanami would be exhaling through his nose, just patient enough to entertain it, but you could practically hear the “I’m too old for this” in his silence. Let them argue over wipe warmers and crib aesthetics.

Maybe, at some point, they’d realize you were gone.

Maybe.

But right now, you were just a woman eating a burger. Not a CEO. Not a wife. Not the mother of their children.

Just you.

---

Their POV

Inside the store, Nanami’s phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

He shouldn’t have answered. He knew better. But his instincts told him otherwise, whispered that it could be Ino, that it could be someone from the higher-ups.

So he pressed accept.

A low chuckle slithered through the receiver, slow, deliberate. Unfamiliar. Familiar.

"Wow. You’re dumber than I thought."

His spine went rigid. “Who is this?”

"Aww, you forgot about me so easily after our wild night together, handsome?" The voice was all honeyed amusement, saccharine and sharp, like the taste of something spoiled.

“I'm loyal and I don't have time for your pranks. Good day.”

"You sound tense. Something wrong? Lose something?"

Nanami turned sharply. Gojo was still there. He was eyeing some godforsaken breastfeeding couch, muttering about comfort and lumbar support like the idiot he was.

But you—

His breath stalled.

"Where is she?" Nanami’s voice tore through the store, rough, unhinged, barely human.

Heads turned. Parents stared. A mother clutched her toddler closer.

Gojo twisted, the lazy slouch of his shoulders snapping into attention. His head swiveled. His Six Eyes darting around instantly.

But you weren’t there.

You weren’t in the aisle.

You weren’t anywhere.

He couldn’t feel you.

Not the cursed energy from your womb. Not the subtle pulse of your presence that had been second nature now.

Gone.

Nanami was still yelling, his grip on the phone so tight his knuckles blanched. “Who are you? If you think you can take her without consequences, I will personally cut your body into so many pieces your people won’t even recognize you.”

"Aww, so romantic." The voice practically purred. "Finally, you’re respecting your one true archnemesis."

The air thinned.

His stomach dropped.

"What do you want, Haibara?" His voice was deathly quiet.

"Me? Nothing." A pause, languid, mocking. Then, smooth as silk, Haibara added, "but the rest of the world wants your wife."

Nanami’s breath left him. Gojo came over, his face pale, his Six Eyes scanning the store like he could will you back into existence. Nanami turned to him, his fingers going numb around the phone as he lowered the volume and fumbled to put it on speaker.

"She’s got a bounty, Kento-dono." Haibara’s voice was light, almost lazy, but the weight of his words suffocated. "Crisp five hundred billion dollars. Do you know how many zeros are in that?" A chuckle. "Last I checked, quite a few. If you don’t know why, then ask your other idiot; he’ll know what bounty means on babies' heads."

Cursed twins.

A rare commodity.

Of course, it made sense.

Nanami’s grip on his phone shook. His vision blurred.

Gojo’s panic flickered white-hot, burning through the confusion, through the nausea curling in his stomach. His hand clenched at his side, his jaw tight enough to shatter teeth.

He knew what was happening. He'd had the same bounty on his head when he was born too.

"I called to let you know about the bounty on her head, and because I know you lost her again," Haibara continued, voice amused. "Thought maybe you two morons should keep a better eye on her. She keeps running off, and two Special Grades can’t even keep a regular non-sorcerer pregnant woman in check?"

Nanami couldn’t breathe.

“She was—she was just here.” Gojo’s voice was thin, like he was trying to convince himself, like if he just said it enough, reality would bend and you would be back, glaring at them, rolling your eyes, safe.

But you weren’t here.

You weren’t anywhere.

"How do you know we lost her?" Nanami’s voice was barely controlled. Feral. "Do you have her with you?"

"Nope." Haibara popped the ‘p’ like this was a joke. "I’m just better at keeping an eye on her. Even when I’m away. Maybe I should’ve had the Six Eyes." He laughed.

Gojo twitched.

"Just tell us where she is," Nanami ground out, the blood roaring in his ears. "I don’t have time for your buffoonery."

"Oh? Do you need me to throw out the trash too? Wipe your bum while I’m at it?"

Gojo’s fists trembled. The tips of his fingers burned.

He needed to find you. Now.

"How long has the bounty been up?" His voice was eerily calm. The storm before the end.

"Dunno," Haibara hummed. "Fifteen minutes, maybe? But assassins are already bidding. Thought you would’ve figured it out by now."

Fifteen minutes.

That was eternities in their world.

Gojo felt sick.

Haibara sighed, almost disappointed. "Guess you two have been distracted. By diapers. By a future you both don’t even get to have with her."

Nanami felt something in his chest crack.

Gojo didn’t blink. His head pounded. His throat closed up.

A beat. "Don’t worry. I’ll wipe her tears when you both are sent to jail. Never even having held your kids."

The call ended.

The silence that followed was suffocating, thick like tar, pressing down on them until it felt like they couldn’t breathe.

Nanami’s pulse thundered, but his body felt numb, like the blood in his veins had turned to ice.

Gojo exhaled slowly. Too controlled. Too blank. Not real.

“We don’t tell her.”

Nanami swallowed, but the bile clung to his tongue.

“No.”

Gojo turned in a full circle, his Six Eyes scanning the store with a desperation that made his chest ache.

“She was right here,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

He looked at the empty space where you should have been, where you had been just moments ago. His hands clenched at his sides, fingernails cutting into his palms. She was right here.

He took another step, eyes darting across the store. His breath was sharp, shallow, desperate.

Nanami was already scanning the store, his fingers flexing at his side. Too rigid. Too restrained. His heartbeat drummed against his ribs. Fitting rooms. Entrances. Exits. Every possibility turned over in his mind, methodical even as panic curled around the edges of his thoughts.

"Check the fitting rooms. I’ll check outside."

“No.”

Gojo’s voice was a blade, cutting through the air. His fingers flicked up, Six Eyes burning. His sunglasses were already gone, abandoned, shoved into his pocket like an afterthought.

A pause. A breath.

Nothing.

“I don’t see her.”

Nanami froze.

If Gojo couldn’t see you, it meant you weren’t just a few aisles away, not lingering by the checkout line, not waiting by the bathroom. It meant you were gone.

Mall security was useless. The intercom announcements, the slow, confused clerks asking what you were wearing, asking if they had a recent photo. As if they needed to describe you.

You wouldn’t just leave.

Nanami’s jaw locked. “She wouldn’t just leave.” His voice was tight, forced through clenched teeth. “Would she?”

Gojo’s hands curled into fists. His breath stuttered.

“She’s six months pregnant, Kento.” His voice was hoarse, like the words scraped against his throat. “She wouldn’t just—” His breath hitched. “Unless we made her feel like she had to.”

The thought hit them both at the same time.

The way you had been quiet lately. Not in your usual, calculating way. Not the way you went silent before striking a deal or winning an argument. But distant.

The way you let them pay for everything, when you were the kind of woman who once bought entire companies just to prove a point.

The way you had stood there, hands on your belly, as they planned a life around you, but never with you.

Gojo was pacing, running a hand through his hair like he wanted to tear it out. The sight did nothing to calm the sick feeling creeping up Nanami’s throat.

Nanami swore under his breath. “We’re fucking idiots.”

Gojo was already moving.

Three minutes.

Two of them wasted on panic.

On scanning every store, every floor.

On his mind spinning through the worst possibilities.

What if someone had found you first?

What if they never—

Then—

On the corner of the tenth floor, in a wheelchair, there you were.

Eyes closed.

They were near you in an instant, but Gojo ran faster than Nanami, something frantic in his movements, like he was reliving a childhood memory he’d buried deep. He appeared next to you, his hands trembling as he pulled you close, his voice breaking as he spoke.

“Hey, why—hey, wake up!” he said frantically, his hands cupping your face, slapping your cheeks lightly as if trying to rouse you from a nightmare.

But before Nanami could check your pulse or shush Gojo, you blinked blearily, your voice soft and groggy. “Ahh. I just fell asleep. Let me go.” You tried to shove Gojo away, but your voice came out pleading, more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. You got up, only to realize he wasn’t letting go, his arms tightening around you like he was afraid you’d vanish again.

---

Your POV

And he did. He held you close, the way he used to before he’d taken everything into his hands and ruined it. His grip was desperate, his breath uneven against your hair, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it. Not because you wanted to, but because you could feel the fear radiating off him, the way his hands shook as they pressed into your back.

You didn’t know what was going on, but you were going to enjoy their suffering.

“Why’d you run off?” Nanami asked, his voice low but strained, like he was holding back a storm. “If you were tired, you could’ve said so.”

When you didn’t respond, Nanami assumed the worst, his jaw tightening as he glanced at Gojo. Gojo, ever the one to voice the unspoken, broke the hug to look at you, his hands still gripping your shoulders like he thought you might bolt.

“You were trying to run away and got tired, so you fell asleep?” he asked, his voice cracking at the edges.

Nanami’s eyes looked pained, his usual composure slipping as he stared at you, waiting for an answer you weren’t ready to give.

"Are you insane?" Gojo’s voice was sharp, almost shaking.

“You’re pregnant. You don’t just—” He exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his forehead like it physically hurt to process what was happening.

You pointed at the food court like a scolded child, your expression blank.

Gojo’s laugh was choked. A breathy, broken sound.

"A fucking burger, sweetheart? You ditched us for a burger?"

You didn’t look at them.

Now, they were the ones feeling invisible.

“Why were you sitting on a wheelchair? It’s not our fault to be worried,” Nanami said, his voice rising slightly, the frustration bleeding through.

You shrugged, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t know, Kento. You didn’t put enough chairs in the mall anticipating my arrival. How callous of you.”

The insult sounded weak even to your own ears, but you still turned and walked away like it made perfect sense.

---

You had fought.

You had screamed yourself hoarse in a parking lot, your voice cracking on every expletive, every demand.

You had taken a step back, your pulse pounding. “I’m driving.”

Nanami’s voice was low, firm.

“No, you’re not.”

Something inside you snapped.

“You’re not my fucking babysitters.”

Gojo didn’t flinch, didn’t meet your eyes. “We know.”

Your nails dug into your palms. “Then why the hell are you treating me like a goddamn child?”

Nanami’s head tilted, his gaze sharp. “Do you know how fast you were driving earlier?”

You set your jaw. “I didn’t crash.”

“Yet.”

The word cut deeper than you expected.

"You’re not fucking serious."

"You’re not actually banning me from driving—"

"Like I’m some delicate little—!"

But they wouldn’t budge.

Nanami’s jaw was set, unmovable, his hands clenched at his sides. Gojo wouldn’t even engage, wouldn’t throw the usual “aww, sweetheart, don’t be mad at us” line your way.

They had already decided.

You hadn’t mattered in that decision.

Gojo had tried to coax at first. Soft words, gentle hands reaching for yours. You had slapped them away.

Then, Nanami snapped.

"You almost killed them."

The weight of it hit your chest, something hot and tight and suffocating.

You wanted to argue, to scream, to rip the keys out of Gojo’s hand and prove them wrong.

But Nanami’s eyes pinned you in place.

Gojo, usually so quick to defuse things, said nothing.

Neither of them would budge.

The world felt smaller.

Like a trap had been laid around you before you even realized it.

And when Nanami exhaled, his eyes flickering over your face, his voice softened.

“Get in the car.”

The parking lot was suddenly too quiet.

Nanami was breathing hard, like he had forced the words out against his will. His fingers flexed, curled, dug into his palms like he was holding something back.

Gojo wasn’t looking at either of you. His lips parted, then shut. Like there was nothing to say that could fix this.

And maybe there wasn’t.

Because the worst part?

They were right.

You had driven too fast. Too reckless. Like you had something to outrun.

And now?

They were overcorrecting.

The leash tightening.

And you could do nothing but choke on it.

They didn’t let you drive.

That was the first sign something was wrong.

You reached for the passenger’s side door, but Nanami was already there, his hand closing over your wrist with careful, deliberate restraint. No force, no brute strength—just quiet, unshakable control.

"The back seat," he said.

Not the passenger seat.

The backseat.

Not a request. Not a suggestion.

A verdict.

Nanami opened the back door for you, his face impassive, too neutral. That dangerous stillness he fell into when he was hiding something, when he was choosing his words carefully, when he thought you were too fragile or volatile.

Gojo didn’t crack a joke. Didn’t tease you for looking pissed. Didn’t even flash that usual “baby, trust me” grin.

They didn’t comment on the way your shoulders shook.

Didn’t say a word about the way you turned your face to the window.

Didn’t acknowledge the way you looked, for just a second—

Like you might cry.

Gojo just shut the door after you, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the car like this was normal.

Like you hadn’t spent your entire life steering yourself, controlling the wheel, deciding the speed.

Like you hadn’t spent the last six months fighting to not become a passenger in your own life.

Like you hadn’t been the one navigating the world before they even knew your name.

The car pulled out of the lot in silence.

You stared at the back of Gojo’s head, at the tense line of his shoulders. He wouldn’t even meet your reflection in the rearview mirror.

That sick, crawling feeling in your gut didn’t fade.

You stared out the window, arms crossed over your belly, jaw tight enough to hurt. Your babies shifted inside you. You didn’t know if it was from your tension or theirs.

---

Soon, Jujutsu Tech. loomed ahead, dark and empty, carrying the kind of stillness that only places drenched in death could hold.

"I want to go home," you said, your voice flat, distant, barely concealing the anger burning underneath.

Gojo turned, smiling, but it was wrong. Too thin. It barely touched his eyes.

“We won’t be long, sweetheart.”

A lie.

Nanami’s fingers brushed your wrist. A grounding touch. A silent plea. Maybe an apology.

You stared at his hand like he was touching someone else.

Then they were gone, swallowed by the heavy wooden doors.

You sat there in the locked car, tapping your nails against your phone case, opening and closing an app without reading a single word.

The minutes dragged.

You leaned back against the seat, staring up at the sky.

Inside, something was happening. Something big.

You could tell by the way the air shifted.

By the way the crows in the trees scattered.

---

Their POV

Inside, the air was thick with something rotting.

Not literally—though the higher-ups always carried the stench of old paper and slow decay—but something worse. Something insidious.

Gojo stood loose-limbed, hands in his pockets, head tilted just so. A predator’s angle. Nanami had that look—the one that meant he was already seeing blood.

Across from them, the elders sat in their sunken chairs, bodies swallowed by the deep shadows of the paper screens. Silent spectators to their own machinations.

Nanami spoke first. “How long?”

The head elder blinked, slow and disinterested. “Excuse me?”

“How long,” Nanami repeated, voice even, “have you known about the bounty?”

The elder gave a thin smile. “Since the moment it was placed, of course.”

Gojo laughed, sharp and ugly. “Of course.” He turned to Nanami. “They knew. They sat on it. Probably made bets on how long it would take for us to notice.”

Nanami inhaled slowly. Exhaled. “Why weren’t we told?”

The elder’s sigh was almost theatrical. “Because it was irrelevant.” He tilted his head, birdlike. “If you had been competent enough, you would have realized much sooner.”

Something in Gojo’s expression went blank. Empty in a way that was dangerous. “Right. Because why warn the people actually protecting her, right?”

A second elder, thinner and somehow more cruel, tapped his fingers against the table. “You misunderstand, Satoru.” His voice was soft. “We wanted you to notice.”

The temperature in the room dropped.

Nanami’s fists clenched. “Explain.”

The elder’s smile widened, and when he spoke again, it was with the confidence of a man who had never once feared consequence.

“You should get rid of her.”

Silence.

Then, smooth as poison—

“Your very existence has already increased the world’s cursed energy tenfold. You want us to believe this pregnancy was an accident? That you, the strongest, somehow failed to control your own body?” He clicked his tongue. “How sloppy, Satoru.”

Gojo’s jaw ticked.

The elder leaned forward. “Tell me—what do you think those things will become? Ordinary sorcerers?” A chuckle, dry as old paper. “They’ll be anomalies. Unstable. Stronger than you, in ways even you cannot predict. If they survive.” A pause. “And that is an uncertainty.”

Nanami didn’t move, but something coiled behind his ribs.

“They could die in the womb, you know.” The elder’s voice was almost gentle. “Too much power, too small a vessel. You should be grateful. It would be kinder than what awaits them.”

Gojo’s fingers twitched.

The elder continued, undeterred. “But let’s say they do survive. That you don’t watch them wither from the inside out.” His smile thinned. “What then? You think the world will let them live?”

A long pause.

“We don’t need them.” The elder’s voice turned flat. “We need control.” A tilt of his head. “They would be better off as cursed objects. A weapon to be wielded, rather than something that could one day turn against us.”

He folded his hands.

“You already make things difficult. Why multiply the problem?”

Silence.

Gojo blinked once. Then again, like he hadn’t quite heard.

Nanami—who had spent his entire life perfecting the art of restraint—moved first.

His ratio blade cut through the air, through bone, through everything the elder had been. His head hit the floor with a wet thud.

Gojo followed. No Limitless, no Infinity—just force. His hands closing around the second elder’s throat, his smile sharp, shining.

“Wrong answer.”

It was over in seconds.

No grand battle. No drawn-out screams.

Just work.

The kind of work that left blood in the cracks of your hands and the scent of death in your hair.

Nanami exhaled. Gojo wiped his hands on his dark pants like he had touched something dirty.

“They were never gonna let her live,” Gojo murmured.

“They were never going to warn us.”

A long pause.

Then Gojo grinned, all teeth, all vicious relief. “Well. Problem solved.”

Nanami sighed. “Let’s go before she gets impatient.”

Outside, you were still sitting in the car.

Unaware of how close you had come to not existing at all.

---

Your POV

You were starving. Again.

Pregnancy did that—one second, you were fine, the next, your body was demanding something salty and fried like it was a life-or-death situation.

The car was too quiet. The night was too still. You drummed your fingers against the door, the rhythm sharp and impatient. Your entire existence had been reduced to craving fulfillment, and right now, that fulfillment needed to be deep-fried and covered in salt.

Then—movement.

A teenager, white-haired, passing by with his hands stuffed in his pockets, face partially obscured.

Target acquired.

You rolled down the window. “Hey, kid.”

He stopped, turned, and blinked at you.

“Do me a favor,” you said, pulling out a crisp bill and holding it out. “Run into the store and grab me a soda. And—” you paused, adjusting your outfit because you didn’t want to be bullied for a mid-fit (he seemed like the type who would)—“some samosas or chips. Just get whatever looks good.”

The teenager tilted his head. “Shake.”

You frowned. “No. Soda.”

“Bonito flakes.”

“…What?”

He nodded, very serious. “Salmon.”

You inhaled deeply through your nose. “No. Soda. Chips. Something salty. Preferably fried.”

“Bonito flakes.”

Your eye twitched. “Are you messing with me?”

“Shake.”

A pause. A long, painful pause.

You stared at him. He stared back.

The tension thickened.

A single leaf drifted by, carried on the wind.

Finally, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “You know what? Never mind. Just get me Shoko.”

“Salmon.”

You shot him a look.

And then—

“Uh, hey.”

A new voice. A new presence.

You turned to see a dark-haired young man walking toward you, his expression a mix of mild concern and secondhand embarrassment.

The teenager—Menace Flakes—perked up. “Shake.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” The newcomer sighed, rubbing his temple before looking at you. “Sorry, he’s not trying to mess with you. That’s just... how he talks.”

The dark-haired guy scratched the other’s cheek. “Sort of. It’s his cursed technique.”

Well, that was oddly homoerotic for some reason, but it wasn’t your problem.

Then his words caught you off guard. You glanced back at Menace Flakes, who blinked at you expectantly, as if he hadn’t just given you a goddamn aneurysm.

“Cursed technique?”

“Yeah,” the new guy replied. “His words make things happen. If he said something normal like ‘give me a Lambo,’ it could go south real fast.”

Huh. Weird.

You exhaled. “Fine. Whatever.” You waved a hand. “Could you buy me something to eat? You know how pregnancy is.”

The new guy nodded, but didn’t move.

Instead, his expression shifted—subtle, but sharp.

His eyes drifted downward.

Not at you.

At your stomach.

You tensed.

The air around you shifted, and for the first time, you saw his shoulders square, his stance change—like he had just registered something wrong.

“You’re—” He hesitated. “What are you?”

Your jaw locked.

Not who.

What.

Your stomach. The part of you that was currently housing two tiny freaks of nature.

He was looking at it like it was a nuclear warhead.

You exhaled slowly. “You cannot be serious.”

But he was. His fingers twitched at his side, cursed energy humming just beneath the surface.

“I can feel it,” he muttered, eyes locked on your stomach like it was about to lunge at him. “The cursed energy—it's massive. It’s—unnatural.”

You stared at him. “Yeah, no shit. I’m six months pregnant with Gojo Satoru’s kids.”

He did not look reassured.

“You are lying,” he said flatly. “No women want him.”

Menace Flakes, meanwhile, nodded sagely. “Salmon.”

“Stop helping,” you snapped.

---

The dark-haired one exhaled sharply, clearly debating whether to exorcise you, arrest you, or just straight-up pass out.

And then—

The air split open with a crack.

A presence—massive, overwhelming, and unmistakably obnoxious.

And then—

“SWEETHEART! BABY! LOVE OF MY LIFE!”

Gojo Satoru exploded onto the scene, arms spread wide, sunglasses slightly crooked, radiating pure, undiluted drama like he had just crash-landed in a soap opera.

The dark-haired one froze.

Menace Flakes blinked.

The pregnant woman in question exhaled. “Oh, great.”

Gojo landed beside you in a flourish of long limbs and expensive fabric, dramatically pressing a hand over his heart like he was personally enduring your suffering. “I felt your distress from inside the building and thought—oh no! My delicate, vulnerable wife must be suffering!”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “I was just trying to get them to buy me a soda.”

Gojo gasped, looking scandalized. “WITHOUT ME?”

The dark-haired one, still standing there, fists clenched, visibly struggling to process any of this, finally managed, “Wait—what?”

Gojo turned to him with the kind of slow, patronizing patience that made you want to file for divorce on the spot. “Yuta-kun.” He gestured toward you with a flourish, his tone unbearably smug. “Meet my wife.”

Yuta’s soul momentarily left his body.

He turned to you.

Turned back to Gojo.

Then back to you.

“She’s married to you?”

Gojo grinned. “Yes.”

“…Willingly?”

Gojo staggered back like he’d just been mortally wounded. “Excuse me, Yuta, I’ll have you know my wife adores me.” He turned to you, batting his lashes and pouting his lips in a way that made your insides almost immediately forgive him—like he could do no wrong. “Right, sweetheart?”

Familiar heat dropped in your stomach; he hadn’t looked at you like this in months.

But the way he was acting made you wonder if he was bipolar, like the unlicensed part-time mental health diagnostician you were.

A few months ago, you’d turned to psychology and philosophy to try to justify his antics or at least understand the reasoning behind them, but then you’d given up—mostly because you realized that even Aristotle and Carl Jung would be confused.

You stared at him. Then, without breaking eye contact—

“I was literally about to walk into traffic.”

Gojo cackled, delighted. “Classic my wife!”

Yuta, meanwhile, was still trying to reboot his brain. “And the cursed energy—?”

Gojo clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Ah, yes, my future children. Purse friendly—Gojo's, if you will.”

Yuta made a noise that could only be described as an existential wheeze. “Sensei, you’re telling me she’s pregnant with your kids, and that’s why she’s emitting that much cursed energy?”

And then—

A new voice.

Calm. Measured. Deeply exhausted.

Nanami, walking up like he had just spent the last ten minutes cleaning up Gojo’s mess, casually fixing his cuffs as he passed a hand over Menace Flakes’s head.

“Our kids.”

Yuta’s soul made a desperate attempt to leave his mortal shell.

Gojo beamed, clapping his hands together. “Yep! Kento’s involved too!”

Yuta let out a strangled sound, while Menace Flakes—completely unfazed—nodded. “Okka.”

“Thank you, Toge-kun.” Nanami said.

Gojo finally turned back to you, all smiles. “Now, my love, my moon, my gorgeous trillionaire—what’s this I hear about you running off?”

You exhaled sharply. “I was hungry, and you idiots locked me in my own car.”

Gojo gasped, reeling. “A travesty!” He turned to Nanami. “Ken Ken, we’ve wronged her.”

Nanami sighed. “You wronged her.”

“I wronged her,” Gojo conceded solemnly. Then, bright again—“So! Riceballs? Soda? My life’s mission is now to make sure my pregnant goddess is fed.”

And with that, Gojo climbed through the window of the car like an overgrown raccoon, all his limbs too much like giant spiders in a miniature toy car, while you stared at him in abject seen-it-all.

Nanami, a functional adult, got inside like a normal person. “See you around, Yuta. Inumaki-kun.”

Meanwhile, Yuta just stood there, staring into the void, rethinking every single life choice that had led him to this moment.

Inumaki patted his arm.

“Bonito flakes.”

---

Their POV

It had started to rain when Yuta and Toge walked off.

It came down in sheets, soaking through your clothes, clinging to your skin like a second betrayal. The city blurred around you—distant headlights, muted neon signs bleeding into puddles on the pavement. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn blared, muffled by the downpour.

But you didn’t run.

You walked away.

You didn’t run.

And that was worse.

Gojo’s heart stuttered in his chest, his mind racing to string together words fast enough to stop you, to slow you down, to do something before you slipped too far from reach. The cold wrapped around your frame, tightening like an omen, and he hated it—hated the way it took the space he was supposed to fill.

"Hey, wait up!" His voice cut through the storm, sharp with frustration. But beneath it—something raw. Something he didn’t have the luxury of hiding anymore.

You didn’t stop.

Nanami exhaled sharply beside him, his eyes locked on the way your shoulders curled inward, how the rain clung to your skin like a second betrayal. Your steps were slow, measured, as if you were daring them to catch up. Daring them to prove you wrong.

You wouldn’t have left if you thought they’d follow.

That truth lodged itself deep, ugly and undeniable, and it made Nanami’s jaw go tight, made Gojo’s hands clench at his sides.

Then—

"Darling."

Nanami’s voice, low and steady, cut through the storm. No hesitation. No desperation. Just certainty, like he was willing you to turn back.

And you froze.

Gojo felt it before he saw it—that moment of impact, the unspoken recoil of a wounded animal caught in headlights. Not fear. No. Worse.

A kind of hurt so deep it turned to silence.

When you turned, your eyes burned—lit with something Gojo had never seen before. Something that made his breath catch in his throat. He had seen you angry before, seen you upset, seen you hurt. But this—this was different.

"I’m not a project," you said, your voice cracked open at the edges. "I’m not something you can fix."

Gojo flinched.

Actually, physically flinched.

The smirk that usually softened his presence was gone, stripped away by the weight of what you had become under their hands. And in its place—something uncomfortably human. Something like guilt.

"We’re not trying to fix you," he murmured, softer than he ever spoke.

You laughed. Short. Sharp. Bitter.

Nanami felt it like a shard of glass pressed into his ribs.

"Then what the hell are you trying to do?" you demanded, your voice full of something neither of them had ever been able to name. "Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like you’re trying to be with me."

Nanami stepped forward. Not out of anger—out of control. His hands curled into fists at his sides, fighting the instinct to reach for you. To pull you back in. To erase whatever distance you had put between them.

"We’re trying to help," he said, slow, careful, but even he could feel the crack forming.

"Help?" You spat the word like poison. "Is that what you call it? Whispering behind my back? Making decisions for me? Acting like I’m some delicate fucking thing you have to handle?"

Gojo moved before he could stop himself, before he could think. His hand hovered in the air, fingertips twitching, unsure.

Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you.

Like he already knew he had lost that right.

"We’re just worried about you," he whispered.

You stepped back.

And that—more than the words, more than the rain, more than anything else—was what made the air between you go thin.

Gojo and Nanami exchanged a look.

You hated them for it.

Hated the way they always seemed to understand each other when you couldn’t even get them to look at you like you mattered.

Finally, Nanami broke the silence. "We see you," he said. "We’ve always seen you."

Your breath hitched. Your hands curled into fists.

Gojo knew what came next before it happened.

He saw it in the set of your shoulders, in the way the weight of everything—the waiting, the watching, the giving, the sacrificing—broke you down all at once.

And then you snapped.

“What exactly have you two done in all of this time?” Your voice was low, dangerous. “I’ve been here—sitting, waiting, watching you both… loving you, supporting you, making sacrifices…”

You were shaking now, the weight of it all crashing down on you.

Gojo wanted to say something.

Nanami wanted to fix it.

But they both knew—

---

Nanami’s POV

She wasn’t something they could fix.

He knew that now.

It was in the way she stood, shoulders squared despite the weight pressing down on her. The rain clung to her skin, darkened her hair, but she didn’t shiver. She didn’t fold in on herself like before.

She just looked at them, and for the first time, Nanami realized she wasn’t waiting for an answer.

Because she already knew what she wanted to say.

"What have you done?"

Her voice cut through the rain, sharp and jagged as glass.

"Have you done anything but murder people for me? Huh? Have you done anything but that, because I’m still here. I’m still left behind! I’m six months pregnant, carrying twins, and all you’ve given me is your guilt and your selfishness!"

Nanami felt Gojo tense beside him, felt his breath hitch—but neither of them said anything.

Because what was there to say?

Her words were truths, ugly and cold, carved from the wreckage of everything they had left behind.

"Did you even bother to fix anything?"

She took a step forward, eyes burning, her voice raw from all the things she had swallowed down until now.

"Did you go to therapy? Did you even think for a second about how this actually affected me, or were you too busy fucking each other in every corner of the universe while I—I—was treated like a ghost?"

Gojo let out a shaky breath.

"Okay… Okay, that’s… that’s actually a good idea."

Nanami turned his head sharply, but Gojo was already looking at her, rain dripping from his lashes, his expression unreadable.

She blinked. "What is?"

This time, it was Nanami who answered. His voice was quiet, but no less firm.

"Therapy. We should… We should go to therapy."

He expected her anger. Expected the fire, the bitterness that followed.

"You think therapy will fix this?"

She laughed, but it was a hollow thing.

"No amount of talking will fix the fact that you two have torn this apart, one betrayal at a time, one “Don’t let her find out Satoru,” at a time, huh Nanami. Look at me. Therapy won’t bring me back from the way you made me feel like I don’t matter."

Nanami swallowed.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

"We didn’t mean to—" Gojo started.

"You didn’t mean to?!"

Nanami winced as her voice cracked.

"You think that’s enough? To not mean to?"

She dragged a hand over her face, and Nanami felt a strange heat build in his chest. Shame.

She was right.

She had always been right.

"Maybe I don’t want your guilt. Maybe I want you to actually show me that you care, without treating me like some side project when it’s convenient for you!"

He took a step forward. A mistake.

She stepped back, shaking her head, her walls rising between them like steel gates slamming shut.

"I’ve had enough."

There was no finality in her voice. There was no anger. Just exhaustion.

She had given them everything.

And they had taken all of it without once asking what she needed in return.

"And no amount of affection will erase the fact that you both ignored me. That you let me feel invisible—that you didn’t think about how lonely this entire situation would make me feel. You wanted me to just... accept it."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Gojo looked like he wanted to say something, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

But he didn’t.

Because she wasn’t done.

"Yeah, therapy sounds like a good idea."

Nanami felt the weight of her words before she even finished.

"Maybe it’ll help you two figure out how to actually be. Because right now? You’re just two men who can’t even figure out how to take care of their own wife and call “smothering and ignoring” love."

The words weren’t meant to hurt.

But they did.

They stood there, soaked to the bone, and neither of them knew what to say.

Because there was nothing they could say.

And then—

She stepped forward.

Not toward him.

Toward Gojo.

And Nanami stood there, watching, as she pressed herself against him, her fingers gripping at his jacket like he was the only thing keeping her from breaking apart.

Gojo didn’t move at first.

Then his arms wrapped around her, slow, hesitant, like he was afraid.

Not of her.

Not of the storm raging inside her.

Afraid of what she had just said.

Afraid of what it meant.

"I’m scared, Satoru."

Nanami heard the words, but they weren’t meant for him.

"I never wanted to be a mother."

Her voice cracked.

"I never thought I’d be one. And now I feel like I’d die if something happened to them. I never even got to process it; I have been on flight, flight or freeze constantly. I need to breathe; my body hurts. I’m tired..."

Nanami exhaled, something twisting sharp and deep in his chest.

"And I don’t have you both."

Her fingers dug into Gojo’s jacket.

"I should have been the most supported woman in the world, but I’m not. No matter how rich or successful I am, it doesn’t matter. I wanted my husbands to know first, to care, to fix your discresions before they got worse. But instead, I feel like a fucking surrogate. Like I’m just—"

Her voice broke, the words crumbling under the weight of everything she’d been holding back. The tears came then, hot and relentless, spilling down her cheeks, getting swallowed in Gojo’s shirt, as she choked on the truth they’d been too afraid to say out loud.

She choked on the words, and Nanami thought he might break apart with her.

"Like I don’t matter to you."

Gojo’s arms tightened around her.

He froze.

Nanami did too.

Because it was true.

It had always been true.

"I don’t need your worry. I don’t need your regret."

Her voice was breaking apart, unraveling in the space between them.

"I just—"

Nanami closed his eyes.

"I just need you to see me. Not whatever version of me you think exists. Not whatever you think I should be. Me."

The rain was falling harder now.

Neither of them moved.

Nanami wanted to reach for her.

But she hadn’t come to him.

She hadn’t let herself fall apart in his arms.

Maybe she was still afraid of him. Of the way he had dragged her out of that closet. Of the way he had taken her away from Norway, against her will.

So he didn’t step forward.

He just stood there.

Watching.

And Gojo—Gojo finally moved.

He was crying, but the rain stole the proof before it could exist.

"Let’s go to couples therapy," Gojo whispered.

---

A/N: 🔥 COUPLES THERAPY ARC UNLOCKED 🔥 This fic has now reached its Enemies to Therapy to Lovers phase. 🧐 I’ll wait in the comments. 👀

Next chapter 17 (alt ending 2.8) - Invisible (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[stardustandmoons]

kitty!gojo gets adopted by you

1st part of a series

word count: 622

You walked into your house guiding Satoru by grabbing his hand. "This is my house, and it's yours now too"

You watched as he looked around and studied your home. You showed him his makeshift bed in the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom…

"You're my first hybrid pet actually, so if you need anything, like a bigger bed or whatever, tell me!"

He didn't respond and instead dedicated himself to sniffing your house and then getting comfortable in his new bed. You understood that it was a big change for him and you had to give him time to get used to the place and to you, but you couldn't wait for the day he let you pet him.

But you would be patient and let him initiate any contact.

Two weeks later you decided it was time to bathe him. You had read online that every two weeks was the ideal time to bathe cat hybrids. They were cleaner than dog ones, but not as much as regular cats because they didn't have fur to clean, so they could only clean their hair.

You called out to him after getting the bath ready. "Satoru, can you come please?"

He took his time but did eventually come to you. You locked the door so he wouldn't run away and smiled sweetly to him.

"Satoru, it's time to get you clean yeah?"

His face immediately changed and his eyes narrowed.

"Come on Satoru, let's get those clothes off" He hissed at you when you got closer, and that annoyed you. You drew the line at hissing.

"Satoru, don't you hiss at me, I'm your owner and I have to care for you, which includes making sure you're clean. This is not a fantasy of mine but I don't want you stinking up my house. You have to bathe." Your tone was very stern.

He wasn't too convinced but he let you take off his clothes. "I'm going to teach you to get cleaned but after today you'll be the one to do it okay? But I'll still be here to check you do it properly" You tried to make a serious face, but you were blushing.

Yes, he was your pet, but he was still a naked man. He was so tall, even if he was slouching as he usually did, and he was so hot! You tried not staring at his dick, which was big, but looking at his face didn't help. He was watching you with his usual razor-sharp focus and that only made you more flustered.

You motioned for him to get into the water but he didn't move. You sighed and physically forced him, struggling a bit with him. When you finally got him inside the bath, his beautiful blue eyes were looking at you like he wanted to kill you.

You only hoped this didn't make him hate you. These two weeks you had been making great progress, he was getting closer to you when you sat on the sofa and when you got home from work he came to sniff you a bit.

You turned on the shower head to also get him used to it and when the water touched his skin he shrieked and moved away. This was going to be very difficult.

Slowly you got him clean. When it was time to his private areas you just told him to do as you had done to the rest of his body and you watched as he did, blushing even more and feeling yourself get wet. It was just a natural response right? It wasn't that you felt attracted to your pet… Yeah, you convinced yourself.

You got Satoru out and dried him off.

2nd part

[wilderness-of-thoughts]

".... Y/n?" You heard a voice on the other end of the phone. A familiar voice. It's three in the morning and instead of sleeping you're sitting and watching a movie. You grab the TV remote to turn down the background noise, because the voice is surprisingly quiet. "... I need your help."

∆∆∆

The fact is, the only reason you have a job supporting the jujutsu sorcerers is because your uncle is a Yaga. Your cursed energy is so small it's practically nonexistent. Sometimes you see curses, sometimes you don't. However, in situations where there aren't enough people in the field, you're sprinkled in in a support role... More like support for support. It never bothered you though. Your talent for being a person with curse energy is that you are almost normal. Almost sometimes makes a big difference.

But hey! Work is work and as long as they pay there's nothing to complain about. So when you were running through the streets of Tokyo in the middle of the night to the apartment of none other than Gojo Satoru, it didn't even cross your mind what was going on.

He's probably craving something sweet again, or come up with some stupid idea like - "So if you put more capsules into the washing machine, won't the wash be done faster? Damn. Okay, clean up this mess y/n." Or "I'm out of hair gel, I'm not leaving the house like this! Go y/n and buy me some." - being an errand dog defines your position more. Especially since one of the weakest of the weak in the world of the strong, you are a subordinate of none other than the strongest sorcerer. The Chosen One.

Meh... Could be worse. Right?

Right?

∆∆∆

You punched in the code to Gojo's apartment, breathing heavily. Fuck, why is Ijichi always the driver? Oh yeah, you failed your driving test.

"Gojo? What is it this time?" You asked with a slight note of irritation in your voice. You turned on the light in the living room, looking around the room for any sign of Satoru. With his height you usually had no problem finding him. But this time, all you were greeted with was a dark room. As if no one was here. "Gojo? If this is some kind of stupid joke..."

"Believe me, I would like to..." You heard his voice, strangely quiet but not weak. However, when you turned in the direction it came from, no one was there. "Listen... First, promise me that what you see will stay between us." Gojo continued talking, or rather his voice came from the side of the table in the living room.

"Um... Ok?"

"Secondly... swear you won't laugh."

"Did your students play some stupid prank on you? Did they shave you bald?"

"Promise me, fuck."

"ok ok I promise..." You slowly approaches the table, his voice getting clearer, but you still can't see him.

"Third... Fuck... Help me." His voice was a mix of anger, shame, and humiliation. You never thought you'd ever get to hear it. Ever.

"Okay Gojo... I'll help you, but where are you?"

After he told you to turn on the light and go to the table, you still didn't see him. Finally you heard some rustling and Gojo climbed onto the table top. Yes, he climbed it.

"you won't believe what happened to me..." He said, trying his best to protect his dignity by masking it with an amused tone of voice.

And so, before you on the night table stood the strongest sorcerer of modern times. The Chosen One. Except... He's the size of a doll now, with cat ears and a tail.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Next:

[six-eyed-samurai]

Not canon to my storyline because Geto's younger brother can use Cursed Technique/see Cursed Spirits, and Geto murdered his parents for an entirely different reason, but alternatively Geto Jnr. could've ended up with Gojo instead...

In a way Geto was... relieved that one member of his family wasn't home that day and didn't join the two bodies lying on the ground.

He must still be at school, Geto assumed as he wiped off his hands. Did he really want to kill him though? He couldn't let him live either, not when he wasn't a Jujutsu sorcerer...but he'll shelve that issue for now, seeing as he wasn't at home today and technically Geto didn't know where he was. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

A closet upstairs shuddered, creaking open; Suguru-nii hadn't known he'd been sick and stayed home today.

***

"You want me to what?!"

Gojo didn't think he could receive any more shock these days, still reeling from his best friend's betrayal and mass murder, but somehow Yaga still managed to prove him wrong. He blinked a few more times, adjusted his sunglasses and even let Yaga shove his feet off the table.

He'd always bugged Geto to let him meet his so precious little brother one day, begging and bargaining. Maybe he'd tag along while Geto picked him up from school, or go to the park together, or heck, empty his pockets at the toy store!

Not-

"I don't understand. You're telling me Geto spared his brother and now you want me to do something about him?"

"We found him hiding in his closet, scared out of his mind." Yaga inhaled sharply. "Not surprising - he must've heard everything that happened. And it doesn't look like Geto spared him...more like he wasn't aware that he was home as well."

Nah. Gojo knew his friend - even if it seemed like he didn't after all.

He'd know, he'd know exactly where his brother was whether by instinct or not. He'd just chosen to overlook it on purpose.

"I know you're looking after Fushiguro's kids, aren't you? I know it's a lot to ask but I hope you can, I don't know, help him. He hasn't spoken a thing since we brought him here."

Gojo attempted to make a sarcastic quip, something around the lines of "man, I really must be the greatest Child Whisperer of all time".

He cleared his throat instead.

"He really wants a pet dog or cat, but he's allergic to fur, so you think he'd like pet fish?"

"I'm getting him that plushy we saw in a claw machine - he's kinda sad we didn't win it but he doesn't have to know I bought it from a store, heh."

"Sorry, can you take over this? My brother's participating in a competition and I don't wanna be late."

Damn, truly, how much had Geto changed? No wonder the kid was traumatized. To have his idolised, beloved big bro suddenly decide to go serial killer and his world flipped upside down, not understanding Jujutsu society. He wasn't a sorcerer either...he would have no one.

(Well, one, but Hell if Gojo was giving the kid up to-)

"Hey, it'll be good for Megumi to make friends, so why not?" Gojo stood and stretched. "Let's go meet the little squirt."

***

"Hi, kiddo...woah, you're so..."

Tiny. Small. Fragile. Gojo surmised that Geto had monopolized his family's genes of tallness all for him, or maybe it was because he had appeared to shrunk in on himself from all that crying and terror. He was still wiping at his streaming face after all. And - oh, it's that plush rabbit Geto made him buy when they passed by that store.

"You doing okay?" Gojo is hunkering down to his height, which was really giving his legs cramps, but he got a slight shake of the head in response. "It's alright. I don't all of us are, heh."

"Do you want anything? Uh, hungry, thirsty, I dunno, naps? Sorry, I'm not sure how little kids work and Megumi sucks at being a normal one. Do you want kikufuku?" Gojo reluctantly holds out his bag. "No? More for me - I mean, can I get you anything then?"

"...water s'okay."

"Gotcha."

The silence is awkward. Maybe he should've brought Toji's kids - Tsumiki was good at these sort of these things and Megumi...uh, Megumi was Megumi. "Nice rabbit. Y'know I bought it for you?"

"Suguru-nii told me."

"He did?" Gojo was momentarily taken aback. He thought Geto had wanted to keep his brother and the Jujutsu world completely separate, and, well, this meant- "Well, I do have good taste."

"The ribbon was ugly so we got a new one."

"Jeez, first meeting and you're already bullying me, huh? So mean, you and your brother - shitshitshit, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to - shit, don't cry, Yaga will kill me - oof?!"

The kid cried a literal puddle into Gojo's uniform. He used of the hands now around him to pat his back uncertainly. "Will Suguru-nii come back?"

"...he will." Gojo tightened his hold around the smaller figure; he was glad for his sunglasses to hide the-

"Just not the same as before."

"Why?"

"...you'll find out one day."

"Then I'm alone? Will the - them send me away?"

"Not while I'm here, kiddo. Don't worry."

***

"Faster, Megumi! Faster!"

"Shut up, you're heavy," The spiky haired boy grumbled, but hefted him a little more securely and picked up pace. The younger one on his back still nearly fell off giggling though. "You're squirming again."

A bright flash invaded their faces and left them blinking. "Ah, the kids all playing so happily, it makes me feel like a proud dad!"

"Stop taking photos."

"Nah, still taking."

"Gojo, tell him to stop pulling at my face - mmph!"

"Megumi's not smiling for the camera!"

"Aw, they're actually kinda cute." Shoko shakes her head, amused by Megumi being used as an overworked horse, taking her cigarette out of her mouth. "Hey, Gojo, if you ever don't want them one day I'm happy to adopt."

"You're just jealous I'm amazing and have amazing kids and you're not amazing and that will never happen."

Shoko stabs a finger at him. "Don't pretend you're not a terrible influence on them."

"Says the one smoking in front of them!"

"I didn't even light it yet."

"Whatever!" Gojo snapped another photo - it's definitely going onto the fridge, with Megumi's face in such an unflattering angle. The fridge is overcrowded with dozens of similar photos, but Gojo's sure he can make room for one more. Photos were the only thing permanent and certain, after all.

Who knew Geto would show up and try to take back-

"Gojo, Shoko, Gumi dropped me into the puddle!"

"I did not!"

***

"By the way, I heard you're taking care of another kid now, Gojo."

Instantly his guard was up. He should've known Geto would've turned around at the last second, amidst the crowds and sea of heads, to ask, to know - but it'd been so long and quiet. "I don't know why that interests you."

"So it's true." Geto turns around fully. "Can I have my brother back then? I missed him terribly ever since you all kidnapped him from me. I'm sure he's-"

"He's completely fine, but he won't be if I'm giving him back to you." Gojo shoved his way forward, closer. "You missed him? Sure didn't seem that way. I'm not going to let you kill him."

Geto actually has the audacity to look stunned. "Kill him? Why would I kill my brother?"

"Then why'd you kill your parents?"

"You won't understand. I want him back, and if you won't give him to me-"

"You'll try and get him yourself? What makes you think he'll want to go back to you?"

Geto tilts his head. "I'm his brother."

"Did you know he was in the house that day then?" No, Geto's surprised eyes said. Gojo clenched his fist. "He's not a Jujutsu sorcerer. God knows what you plan to do."

"I'll make him one."

Gojo nearly laughed. "What?"

"I'll make him into one. I promise you, Gojo, I don't care if all the demons of Hell stood in the way." Geto snapped his fingers. "I want him back, make no mistake."

"It won't be Hell's demons in your way, it'll be me. He doesn't want to see you!"

"But he needs me. And that's that."

I'm keeping him under lock and key now, Gojo swore to himself as he watched Geto disappear before hurrying away as well. Lock. And. Key.

[mssonepiece]

You said you wanted one..

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Content~Fluff

From this poll.

You and Satoru have decided to take the next step in your relationship by moving in together. You've been dating for five years now, and after bringing it up so often you decided to shoot the bullet and ask Satoru if he really wanted to find a place to grow and start a family of your own. You were nervous asking him such a question at first but he agreed that you'd been dating so long that you might as well live together. Adding that it would be much easier to sleep in the same bed when you aren't having to travel to each others houses every night. It's been a serene few weeks breaking into the new house and creating new habits. Picking a house that suited both of your requirements was very stressful on you and finally being able to relax knowing all the furniture was in place, was everything that you needed with this move. With everything being in order, you and Satoru were able to spend days at home resting on the couch or in bed. The move has brought you together much closer than you've ever been. It felt like you didn't need anything else from life in this moment. However, Satoru walking past a pet store on his way from work couldn't help himself from getting pulled into the shop. He took his time browsing around all the fish, birds, dogs, and eventually cats that were in the back of the store. There's a range of colors to pick from of small kittens, they have to be at least 3 months old. Instantly Satoru knew that he had to bring one of these kittens home to you. He remembers how you mentioned loving animals and wanting a few of your own one day, which is only temping him to buy one more. A yellowish-orange kitten with a cream colored patch covering half of its face stretches up the glass as far at it can reach, catching Satoru attention. He can't help but let out an audible 'aw' at its actions, smiling brightly at the thoughts in his head. He takes a minute to watch all the kittens play before walking up to the staff to show them which cat he will be taking home.

You got home from working at your office job about an hour ago, deciding to unpack a few of the remaining boxes lying around the house to tidy up a bit. It’s an attempt at trying to keep yourself busy while waiting for Satoru to get home from a "hard" day of teaching, though after a while you notice it seems to be taking a little longer today than normal. It’s not long before you get tired of emptying boxes and opts for putting on a tv show to past the time instead. Half an hour later the click of the front doors lock and the footsteps of Satoru's boots pulls away your attention from the show you put on. "I'm home," He shouts in a sing-song tone. "and I got something for us!" Closing the door behind him and taking his time to take his shoes off. You lunge off the couch and walk through the living room/kitchen to where the main entrance of your newly shared home is.

"Hi baby. Whatchu get?" You try getting on your tippy-toes to look around his frontside. He was attempting to hide something in his jacket but wasn’t doing a very good job as he was revealing the surprise to anyone in front of him. Satoru giggles, doing his best to not just show the cute kitten he's got on his detour to his lover. "Hey!" dragging out the 'y' when he still doesn’t show you what he's hiding. "Show me already Satoru!" You grab onto his sleeve, starting a small tug of war with him and his arm. Finally you pull him to face your direction with all your might, all he says is a quick 'tada' before presenting the small orange kitten to you in his large hands. "Oh my god.." Your jaw drops for a moment. Before you can register what's going on you're grabbing the kitten out of Satoru's hands.

"Be careful!" He jokes.

"I know. Oh my god Toru. I can't believe this! I've literally been wanting an orange cat for so long!" The smile on your face is more than worth it to Satoru.

"The worker said that this was one of their favorite cats in the store and she's such a little cuddle bug." Satoru laughs at the employees words, enjoying the view of the new responsibility. "She was climbing all over me on the walk home. She's a cutie, just like you sweetie."

"Aww. Really? That's so cute!" Your smiling so hard its starting to hurt but your certain your already in love with this kitten Satoru got. "I love her!" Cuddling the kitten up to your face you feel her purring lightly. Satoru feels a rush of heat flow through him as he watches his girlfriend with the small animal. His smile is also starting to hurt his face but he doesn’t care.

"What should we name it?" Satoru grabs your waist and pulls you into him. He has the perfect view of his girl and his kitty.

"It! Satoru!" You pet the kitten comfortingly as if it understood Satoru's comment. He rolls his eyes, giggling at the face you make and taking the chance to pull you closer. "We should name her.. hmm" You look down at the kitten to see if it'll ignite any ideas in your brain. "How about-"

"How about we name it Suguru?" Satoru chuckles.

"Shut up. We aren't naming her Suguru." You roll your eyes which only making Satoru laugh larger. "We need to pick a cute name, not our dead best friends babe." He juts out his bottom lip. He looks so cute that it makes you laugh. Your laugh always makes Satoru's heart do cartwheels, it makes him feel lightheaded knowing that he's the one making you laugh or smile. He drops his head to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck. The kitten puts its small paws on his face, causing another cute laugh from you. "Aww, you look so cute together." He smiles at your comment, bringing one hand up from your waist to pet the kitten. "Let's name her Honey. Because her furs the color of honey, and she's super sweet." There's no response, you only feel Satoru nod and his hair tickling you from in your neck. You're sure you haven't dropped the smile from your face since Satoru walked through the door. Who would have guess he would have gotten you the kitten you've been wanting to get yourself for years. You always put it off due to work, worried that you wouldn't be home enough to actually take care of a kitten. Now with Satoru around it will be much easier to raise an animal. His warm breath against your neck and collar bones is relaxing, and the view of him petting and admiring your new kitten is causing butterflies in your stomach. You let out a satisfied hum as it seems life could never be better than it is now. Finally moving in with your long-term boyfriend, having a beautiful home, a stable job, and now a new pet to top it off. It truly feels like you are starting a family with Satoru after all these years..

Would y'all be interested in a part 2?

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — YUTA x FEM READER

Yuta’s just like a puppy. 

wc — 1k

tags —  mdni, aged up, dog boy Yuta, unfortunately have been reading too much borderline furry (boys with cat ears) manga and was converted, if I was braver I’d make this more intense, gentle fem dom, hand job on a desk, this is going to appeal to exactly one (1) person

You expected this. Yuta has never tried to hide the man that he is. 

Still, you think this is a bit too much. 

You’ve been standing in front of the mirror for at least ten minutes, trying to figure out how you’ll hide this mark in the summer heat. Yuta loves all of you, but he has a special fondness for the nape of your neck. More specifically - biting it. 

You know he can’t help it. It’s the nature of a guard dog. You had thought as much when you had first met him, all those months ago. 

Yuta naturally assumes the role of the protector. It’s instinctual to him, in everything from the way he shoves you behind him during fights or the way he pushes your favorite foods onto your plate from his. He’s always been like this. 

When you’re in danger, his hackles rise. He’s total in his brutality, an effortlessly efficient killing machine. Although he’s never thought of himself as such, in truth, Yuta is as much a prodigy as Gojo is. Having Rika makes it too easy to play at heroics. He’s never had to fear much when he’s the object of her devotion. 

Perhaps it’s because her love is all he’s ever known that he’s turned out the way he has. 

Yuta loves in the same way the Queen of Curses does. They’re both beasts tamed only by the leash their partners hold, weapons of mass destruction cradled in soft hands. Like Rika, Yuta is single minded in his devotion towards you. 

Dogged, one might say. 

He’s always touching you, like a puppy begging for attention from his master. A hand on your waist or curled around the back of your neck, Yuta needs to feel your skin on his. 

He dotes on you endlessly, constantly at your beck and call. He’ll deliver whatever you want to you on a silver platter. The way he waits eagerly for praise afterwards is adorable. 

Because of this, you’ll usually forgive him for anything. 

But you had woken up unnecessarily angry this morning, and the bite mark just sealed the deal. It had been too hot underneath your sheets, leaving you groggy and irritated. You had lashed out at your puppy, who was such an easy target. Yuta never argued or fought back, even if it was undeserved. He just took it. 

You’re feeling particularly guilty because he’s so patient with you. He had gotten back from a mission hours ago, and instead of cleaning up or resting, he was waiting outside your office patiently. He hadn’t even gotten out of the suit he had been wearing for this undercover assignment. 

His legs are drawn up to his chest so he can rest his head on his knees, staring at the closed door that separates him from you. When it finally opens, his ears perk up and his tail starts wagging. 

It’s hard to repress the urge to coo over him, to pet over his soft ears and praise him for being a good boy. 

Instead, you grab his tie, wrap it around your fist like a leash, and tug him inside your office. 

There’s blood on his face from his work. You shouldn’t find it so hot. 

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks. 

“I was never mad at you, pup,” you say gently, pushing him towards your desk. He lands sprawled across your documents on his back, looking bewildered. 

It’s evident he came here looking to make it up to you. You’d rather give him his dues, instead. 

“Pants off, baby,” you tell him, and he scrambles to obey. His hands are shaking a little as he undoes his belt, fumbling the latch over and over until finally you take pity on him and undo it yourself. 

Yuta goes a little cross eyed at your gentle handling of him. Of course, that only spurs you on further. 

“What do we say, Yu?”

“Thank you, thank you,” he chants.

“Good boy,” you croon, watching as his eyes practically turn into hearts and his tail wags furiously between his legs. You give it a light tug and he whimpers. There’s already a tent forming in his boxers. 

Playfully, you snap the waistband of his boxers against his skin. Yuta throws an arm over his eyes. His cheeks are turning red from embarrassment, but you can’t have that. 

“Don’t hide from me,” you say as you pull his arm away from his face. 

Yuta’s been so good. You don’t want to make him wait for it anymore. You tug his boxers off and wrap one hand around his cock. He’s already leaking so much you don’t need lube. Your giggle only makes him turn his face away, shy and even more embarrassed. 

Yuta’s hips thrust up involuntarily at the first slow, sweet stroke the tight circle of your fist makes around his cock. It’s followed by a string of gasped out sobs as Yuta tries to keep himself still, only to jerk like he’s been electrocuted at the next pump of your hand. 

“You don’t need to restrain yourself,” you tell him, and that’s all the encouragement he needs. Yuta’s loud. He whines and cries and begs even as you’re willingly giving him all he wants and more. 

He chases his high like a man starved, humping into your hand with a sweetly depraved desperation. When you twist your wrist just the way he likes, he sobs, a wretched, pathetic noise that makes something awful inside of you preen in delight. You want to hear him make that noise again.

When you look up again to gauge his reaction, Yuta’s biting his lip. “I’m close,” he whimpers when he catches you watching. “I’m gonna-I’m- fuck-“ 

“Go on, sweetheart,” you tell him. “Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

Praise always works well on Yuta. 

He cums into your hand with a sob, shaking through his orgasm. His knees knock together before you force them apart, pushing him just shy of overstimulation before you finally pull away. Yuta practically melts into your desk, boneless. 

“Was that a good enough apology?” You tease him. 

Yuta blinks at you. His brain is practically melting out of his ears. Then he shakes his head as if he’s shaking water off, his dark hair flying around his face. With the dumbest, cutest smile in the world, he says, “Repeat that?” 

[dxwnstxr]

Darkest days

Fandom: Bungou stray dogs and jujitsu kaisen

Characters: Dazai, Gojo x fem!reader

Genre: angst, headcanons

Warnings: mention of! Severe depression, self-harm, attempts of suicide, dark thoughts, state of emotionless thinking, stress, anxiety

A/n: Due to my mental state, I may be on a hiatus for a few days! I'll also be hinting irl dazai, for dazai's headcanons.

☾⋆｡𖦹 Dazai ☆

If anything, I feel like dazai would try to commit with you. Though, as usual, he'd fail. But you, unlike him, would succeed.

In the beginning I'd feel like he'd think it was just some practical joke. There's no way you could die just like that right? He'd find it humorous , trying to cope in ways he didn't know he could.

After a while it would start to kick in that you were truly gone. He'd start blaming himself. Maybe if he would've just said "no", maybe you wouldn't have drowned yourself with him. Maybe if he pulled you out, you'd still be here. Dazai would drink more than usual, using the alcohol as an escape from this harsh reality.

He would start to isolate himself from his friends and loved ones. Everything and anything reminded him of you. And the longer the days went on the more his body would shut down.

Years or guilt and agony would go by. He had been having trouble walking, eating, breathing, the list going on. Until him and his pale skin was laying in his bed, slowly breathing in and out. Until finally his body bottomed out, giving into the pain. And at last, joining you.

☾⋆｡𖦹 Gojo ☆

Gojo would've tried his best to protect you against the special grade. Though, the second it started to run away and retreat, you followed it. Gojo yelled your name multiple times right before following behind you.

"Y/n stop! Your can't beat it by yourself!"

Trees flying past his face as he tried to catch up to you. Coming into an open field he saw the special grade hovering over a blur of a body. Squinting his eyes to get a better look, he quickly widened them. The special grade turned to gojo, then retreated immediately.

Not having a care, gojo ran over to you. Your body figure was perched against a tree. You had been stabbed through the heart. Your eyes were open, no reflective shine was visible.

Gojo moved you, holding you in his arms as he hugged you, begging you to not leave him. Though... his prayers and begs weren't answered.

After months of being without you, his eyebags were evident, his lips dry, skin pale, figure slender. He no longer held his handsomely glow and instead, look like he was on his death bed. He never though he could live without you and he was right he couldn't.

He stopped going on missions. He stopped talking to his students or friends. Gojo would even stay up all night thinking about what you would do if you were here.

The more he thought about what you would be doing if you were here made him realize that he isn't alone.

A few years later, he was taking care of himself again, talking to his friends and students, even going on missions. And though going on them was hard, all he had to do has remember what you would tell him.

"Oh, c'mon gojo! What are you a scaredy cat!"

[g1i77ers1ut]

Jujitsu Kaisen: Happy Ending

Intro

What if at the end of JJK, everything was just a dream. Yuji Itadori was in a real deep sleep and everything we have saw was just imaginary. However, everyone was still apart of Yuij’s life. Here’s a list of everything that would happen if everything was a dream.

Disclaimer, these are all my thoughts and opinions, and also not fully confirmed when making this. So, things might change during time when we get next chapters and other stuff. Another thing, I’ve barely even finished JJK, so don’t be mean and just help inform me on anything that I missed or did wrong.

The main group

Obviously, Nobara Kugisaki and Megumi Fushiguro would be Itadori main friends.

Since in the dream Nobara is seen using a hammer and nails as her like main weapon, she would have been a very like working hands person. She’s slightly tomboyish who, if this was taken in America, would work in workshop. But even working with her hands, Nobara still is girly. Shopping and being her girly pop self. But even without her weapons and cursed energy, she still has the same attitude.

Now Megumi, his main weapon are his cursed animals. Since he has a lot of them, he would probably have the same amount in the real world. Besides the elephant bc that can’t be really possible. He would have his demon dogs, snake, frogs, rabbits, and bird things. I don’t really know what it is, so I think he might just have a standard pet bird. Also, since this is supposed to be happy, Megumi would know that Toji is his dad. I believe the backstory would be that his mom and dad went through a break up, making Toji leave Megumi until he was a teen. the reason why it was long is bc Toji and Megumi don’t see each other till Megumi was like a teen. Also, Megumi’s mom is alive, bc happy family.

Second Years

There aren’t big changes, besides well Panda. Maki Zenin would be herself bc I don’t really know what to change of her cause she’s technically a normal person. She would just be her badass self.

Same with Toge Inumaki. He would be basically a quiet kid and have his friends speak for him. Instead of saying “Tuna with Mayo,” and being carful speaking, he would say one or two words out to people. If he wanted to have a full sentence he would tell it to his friends and they will speak it for him.

Now Panda, there are two ways to go at this. The first thing I thought was making him like a Tuxedo cat that would follow around the group. But my friend had a better idea. They thought of making Panda a mascot and now writing this it sounds so much better. Panda in the real world would be this big chubby dude that is cuddly like a bear, adding to the idea of bear. He volunteered to be the mascot which is, obviously, a Panda. He still is confident, loving self, but not with fur.

Sorcerers

Obviously, most of the sorcerers would be a worker at the high school. Do I know what position they would be yet? Not really, besides the principal being the principal. In the making of this, I don’t know what each sorcerer would teach or position they would be in, but I would like ideas. However, the only person I have a position for is Satoru Gojo. He would be like a Teacher’s assistant. He would still be an upper class student, but would mostly help not only teachers but lower class students. He’s also really good with time management and still has his piercing blue eyes, but doesn’t have that big power in them. They will however give you a headache if staring at them for too long.

Cursed Spirits

Since there are many cursed spirits we could talk about, I’m just gonna talk about the main four.

Let’s start off with the icon who created the group and is technically not a cursed spirit, Suguru Geto. He is basically, for my goofy obsession people out there right now, Bradly Uppercrust the Third. However, Geto isn’t that snooty and stuff. He’s still his chill controlling self, and taunts Itadori and his gang while in school. Just imagine Itadori, Megumi and Nobara passing by Geto, Mahito and Jogo in the hauls. While passing by in the hauls Itadori and Geto make anger eye contact. Mostly Itadori glaring while Geto is smirking and looking straight into Itadori’s eyes.

Now onto the crackhead Mahito. He’s basically just himself but just doesn’t reform others when touching them. He still touches them but the only reason why the thought of reforming others came to mind is bc when Mahito touches you, it is so uncomfortable that your whole organs move around weirdly. Also his hands are so cold that it makes your limbs twist and turn.

Lastly, the fireball himself, Jogo. So, he’s obviously a person, not a pimple looking volcano. Also before I continue, if it sounds like I’m insulting him, it’s bc I am. Jogo is definitely a big back gremlin. That’s really the only thing I think of if he was a human.

Jogo definitely, as a kid, set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. As a teen, he uses illegal fireworks and small strong fire sticks. He also sets trash cans on fire. Basically, Jogo is an arsonist.

Junpei Yoshino

So, there’s a reason why I have a hatred for Mahito. It’s not bc he touches people but it’s bc he killed the adorable Junpei. I could go the happy way and make Junpei live, however there’s another way.

The alive way is the scene from the first season intro, where we see Junpei hanging out with Itadori and his gang.

The other way is while walking to school, Itadori would pass by a cemetery, and see a grave stone with Junpei’s name on it. This is giving justice to the hurtful death of Junpei Yoshino 😭

Anyway, that’s it for now. Have any ideas, pls send suggestions. Anyway, bye 😘 ✌️

[cxlrose]

want to tell me more abt xavier 🤔 i dont know a thing abt him

he is my POOKIE WOOKIE he’s so gorgeous it’s insane

he’s from mlbb <3 basic info he’s a mage etc etc etc big pp dmg & and also the holder of the gojo skin

his backstory i…….. i’ll try to explain as simply as i can . he is half light-elf and half human (elf is his mum) and bc of that he was blessed w intelligence and gorgeous blue eyes. his family basically had like a merchant business thing going on but he didn’t care abt it, he joined the Monastery of Light (basically a dedicated religious grp who somehow houses orphans to train em to kill demons or become monastery servants if not it’s complicated but yes)

i rmb the way he like awakened his magic stuff is when he was playing w his cats but one was missing so he looked for it but found it being attacked by dogs and BANGG magic awakened and it somehow like an Ultra Powerful kind of magic (rare kind of magic that few in history hav only rlly possessed) so yeah he trained that magic using books and shebang he’s now in possession of incredibly powerful explosive magic dmg lmao

so the bishop of the monastery saw his talent and was like “oh ima recruit this kid into the knight of light” which is a grp composed of only the most devoted followers of the King of Light (the being they worship) and since then Xavier has js been going on missions until he received the title of Arbiter of Light (belonging to the most powerful person in believe)

but then the more he went on missions and eliminating “heretics” he realizes that wow the monastery is so fucking corrupt when he and an assassin grp of the monastery breached a fortress and was met w lots of people’s sufferings, specifically saw a mother killed protecting her baby :) so then he ordered the assassin gro to flee fbdnndjx

the bishops heard of the issue and saw it as if xavier is siding with the “heretics” which led them to send xavier to the border of the empire to like do dangerous missions against the abyss (think: abyssal monsters from genshin) and he grew really bitter there that i think he’d half ass his tasks and bad mouth his colleagues out in the open yeah he was an asshole

but the archbishop gave him a second chance and made him go back to the monastery which he took the chance in a heartbeat and for a second he was happy abt it but he saw thru their corruption that he started shit talking his colleagues again and doing bare minimum to complete tasks. at this point he’s having a crisis whether he shld leave but he made a vow to fight for Light his whole life that holds him back

and then boom he was assigned a task to patrol around to eleminate “heretics” but then stumbled upon two youngsters getting chased by demons lol they were deemed heretics by the church

^ the kids in question wwww but xavier had enough bc eliminating these heretics means killing these two kids so instead of doing his task he goes full on rogue / working against his duties and protecting them from the demons

he’s a part of a group in the actual game itself hehe it’s called Forsaken Light composed of the two kids he found, him ofc, and the baby from when he breached the fortress (Julian) :)

LOOK AT THEMMM CUTIES. he basically adopted them + oh yeah he’s not part of the monastery anymore he’s completely against them now wwww <33 i love him sm SO SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE THIS WAS NOT VERY SIMPLE UHMMMSMSMS

[ruruslayrr]

Churros kisses

Synopsis : Gojo and Hina go on the their first date after being enemies who were mutually pining for each other for nearly 6 years. They love each other but it's hard to let go of their bickering.

Tags : Gojo×fem OC , fluff, they're idiots in love, established relationship, OC is a jujutsu sorcerer. Enemies to lovers? Clingy Gojo, Soft Gojo, grumpy×sunshine, Excited Gojo, angst? If you squint, post-mutual pining, they're around 21 and 22 age wise, you can self-insert if you want.

WC : 2k

Notes : I just want a clingy gojo hanging off me okayy🤨. This is based off a prompt by (once I find them I will tag them), I'm stupid pls forgive me. I'm reposting from Ao3. Just plain old brainrot

“I’m not going to do that” “But” “No” “Just” “No“ “ For me?”

Gojo pouted, lowering his shades a bit so that she could see his puppy dog eyes, tilting his head to the side hoping you would give in to his demands.

She felt her will crumble.

Hina would never admit out loud how her heart squeezed at his antics.

“………. fine’, she sighed, giving up. She let him put the black bunny ears on her head

She sighed again turning to look at him, red creeping up her skin.

He was smiling so wide she almost forgot her embarrassment for a minute.

Sighing, she relented.

well if it made him happy.

Gojo excitedly continued to look for matching headbands for himself and asked her what suited him the best.

The 6’3’ towering man enthusiastically modelled in front of the mirror, she noticed how everyone in the store also ogled at him, whispering excitedly. Hina surreptitiously moved closer to him plucking a headband from the stand and reaching up on her toes to place them on his head.

His answering smile was blinding “I knew it! Cat ears suit me best “

Hina rolled her eyes trying not to smile.

Gojo grinned at her and pulled her to the mirror so they could both see themselves in the mirror.

“We look adorable, don’t we?”

He looked cute, and she looked like she would rather be anywhere than here, but they did look good, thought Hina.

“This is so embarrassing “, she grumbled instead.

He took out his phone to snap a million pictures.

“Your right! we are adorable. “ he said, ignoring her earlier statement.

Gojo paid for the headbands and threw an arm over her shoulder, guiding themselves out of the souvenir shop. He used his other hand to gesture to the amusement park dramatically.

“ Are you ready Hina Chan? Ready to go on our very first date to the amusement park”

“It’s not the first time we have come here”, Hina informed him.

“ Ahh but it is the first time we are here as a couple “

Couple.

Hina's stomach did flips.

She cleared her throat and tried to look away so he wouldn’t see the blush rising up her face.

“Let’s go “ she announced and started strutting ahead first.

She tried to ignore how hot her face had become. It was positively embarrassing how the smallest things made her feel like she was on cloud nine.

“ Hey ey Hina Chan here are you rushing off without me, “ he asked excitedly bounding after her.

Hina slowed down.

“Wait a second, are you possibly blushing?”

‘“No “

“What did calling us a couple get you feeling all tingly”

“No”

“ Aw come on. Look at me. I want to see your blushing face”

“I’m not blushing, “ she said stubbornly walking ahead, trying to keep some distance between them.

Her heart was reacting all weirdly today and she felt the mask she always kept in place slipping. She would be damned if she let Gojo see her like this.

His long legs easily caught up with her and entwined his arm with hers. Clinging to her side, he put his weight on her side.

She tried to shake him off.

Gojo tried to peer into Hina’s face.

“Aww”, he started cooing, “You are so cute when you are embarrassed”

“Do you want to get your ass kicked”

“Kinky babe, I’m trying to keep this a pg 13 date.”

“You are definitely getting punched.”

“Please go ahead, and continue your little threats.”, He lowered his voice and whispered.

“You know how that gets me going”, He chuckled and proceeded to bite her ear.

“GOJO !! “ she yelped, elbowing him.

“Oww,” he said rubbing his stomach. pouting at her.

She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his antics most of the people around them were either couples or parents trying to manage their kids, and oblivious to them.

“But….”, his pout slowly turned into a smirk. “Well now I can at least see your face “

“You’re so red you are blending into your hair!”

Hina squawked indignant, before turning and walking away.

Gojo laughed. His long strides caught up with her once more, he went back to clinging and hanging off in Hina’s arm.

Hina grumbled silently as Gojo began to drag her to every ride in the amusement park.

“ Hey you signed up to date me”, he reminded me, smirking.

“I’m really questioning my decision-making skills “

“Oh they’re terrible, “ he told me seriously. “I’m so glad they suck though, that’s how I could get you to go out with me “ he stated winking at her.

Hina snorted.

Gojo laughed wrapping his arms around her shoulders and giving her a slight squeeze, his laughter still rumbling in his chest.

She rolled her eyes and failed to hide her own smile adorning her face.

Hina’s heart felt warm looking at his overconfident smirk. She had hated it once and on more than one occasion had tried to smack it off his face but she had to grudgingly admit to herself that particular smirk now had a special place in her heart.

*

The sun had begun to set.

After going on almost all the rides in the park, despite her protests she had given into Gojo’s whining about how they had to have the full amusement park date experience.

“ Gojo let’s take a break “Hina finally said, and before he could pout, she continued “I know you are exhausted too. I can see you wincing “

Hina had noticed how his eyes looked tired behind his dark glasses, he had winced every time there had been a lot of light on his face.

He stopped at that, eyes widening slightly. She dragged him to a bench under the shade. “Sit and close your eyes for a bit, Why didn’t you just wear your blindfold”

“It’s not that bad, I don’t get exhausted that quickly “ he mumbled taking a seat.

“I know you’ve been working without a break this week you know. Where’s you blindfolded?”, she asked exasperatedly.

“T’is our first date, so I decided not to get it “, he mutters defensively.

Hina pursed her lips. ‘“I’ll go get some water, so rest “, she said pointing at the seat

He let out a petulant humpf .

“Just a few minutes”

He sighed, closing his eyes

“Get me dessert too”, he huffed.

Hina gave an amused chuckle before going to the refreshments kiosk. It took her some time waiting in line to get the water and refreshments.

By the time she returned, She saw something that made her scowl.

There were three girls surrounding your boyfriend, one of them actually batted her eyelashes and flirted with him.

She scoffed and went up to them.

Hina gritted her teeth and tried her best to mask her irritation Gojo seemed to notice you and started smiling but an expression of surprise took over instead.

Hina turned to the girls.

One of the girls felt a cold chill up her spine and turned to Hina, She balked feeling irritation just rolling off her. The other two also turned to look at her frowning. They looked slightly intimidated at the sight of her. Gojo slid next to Hina, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“And this my lovely girlfriend that I was talking about girls”, he announced happily.

“Well. Hello there”, she said her voice clipped.

The girls visibly shrunk under Hina’s cold glare.

“I see “, they mumbled, laughing awkwardly.“We should leave “, said one of them, dragging the other two away from us.

“Scary “ chuckled Gojo looking at her.

“I didn’t even do anything! “, stated Hina.

“You didn’t need to, their survival instinct probably kicked in ”, he chuckled.

She scoffed indignantly.

He had a large smug grin plastered on his face, his icy blue eyes staring at her lips for a beat too long and then moving to her eyes.

Hina felt a shiver pass down her spine at that look.

“Jealousy and looking imposing does look good on you though” He praised.

Hina scowled at him. Handing him the churros she bought for him.

He paused looking at the three flavors.

“I got you all the flavours they had, I didn’t want you to complain about not being able to try all the flavours” she stated.

She looked up at his face again “ Now What??”, she asked exasperated, looking at his expression turning shy.

“What “, she asked again defensively, He had turned his head away, but she still noticed the tips of his ear turning pink.

“I know you have an ice-cold princess persona to maintain but I’ve observed you for years so I know what you really mean when you are hiding your emotions”

“I do not “

“Please 6 years of you scowling at the sight of me has taught me things, for example “, he drawled. “You would say things like ‘Gojo you're an idiot! When you really meant ‘Oh Gojo you are the love of my life!’ “

“I did not! “

He continued seriously, his face turning soft. “I know you don’t really like showing your feelings”, he shrugged “But it’s fine since I know you like me, but I have to admit it feels really good to see you unable to control your emotions and display how much you like me ”, he smirked

That stopped her short. She knew she wasn’t exactly the most lovey-dovey person, she knew she was a little cold, especially to him, while he was clingy, obnoxious and loud about his feelings. He had put up posters on the school noticeboard when she had agreed to be his friend in high school, which had led to her promptly denouncing their friendship.

She thought about their day, she felt guilty when she realized she’d grumbled the entire day and tried to put as much distance as possible between them as she could. But then again that was because he was just incredibly handsy with absolutely no sense of decorum.

She sighed, confessing “I’m sorry that I’m not exactly very open but I do like you”, she said quietly. “I’m just used to being angry and mean to you that it's kinda hard to remember that I don’t hate you anymore, so I’ll work..on….”, mumbled Hina.

‘“That..mak..es sense“, said Gojo with his mouth filled with food. She looked at him realizing he was inhaling the churros when she was opening up.

He was still chewing, his mouth full of food. He nodded at her thinking.

Hina’s eye twitched and she remembered why he had annoyed her for all these years.

She sighed in frustration and started walking ahead.

But he had been right about her not being as affectionate, and she did like seeing his stupid smiles. She sighed again, halting.

She turned to him, vowing to try more but noticed his empty hands..“You didn’t even leave any for me “, she accused.

He looked apologetic. “You don’t really like sweets”, he countered.

“Still!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll buy all your favourites for dinner “

He gave her puppy dog eyes, bending to her height to meet her eyes and pout. The cat headband slipped lower on his fluffy white hair.

“And snacks for a week”, she interrupted.

“Done”, He promised.

She chuckled and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers.

She tried to control the blush rising up her cheeks.

He looked at their hands and looked at Hina with an almost giddy expression that knocked the breath out of her.

She giggled.

His expression darkened and his eyes flitted to her mouth.

“Don’t “she warned

He ignored her warning pulling her close and pressing a wet kiss to her cheek,

“Gojo! There are kids here! “ she yelped.

He kissed her again and this time she couldn’t stop the giggles that escaped her.

She sighed, giving up and closed her eyes as he brought his lips to hers in a slow, melting kiss, that had her smiling against his lips.

The kiss made her forget about decorum.

Screw it.

She gave up and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

[drippingheart]

. . . . There was a lesson to be had. Life full of them in its extremes and during the calm. Clear as the steadfast droplets of rain hitting the earth, there his sensei's words mocked him in a sickly sweet tone even presenting a lesson which required a degree of solemnity. Always be prepared, Megumi — there was no Gojou-sensei saying something so rudimentary while boasting his infinity ... only Megumi's own imagination brought to life by frigid rain. Imagine having infinity. Imaging being able to teleport. Imagine ... well, having an umbrella.

In hindsight he should have looked at the weather app prominently displayed on the front screen of his mobile device, however for once he wanted to spontaneous and generous. Plastic shopping bag filled with assorted snacks had been tied tightly to prevent the rain from entering and bag and hung from right wrist as hand awkwardly tucked itself inside the pocket of his hoodie. The bag noisily and awkwardly fumbled and slapped the side of his thigh. Eyes were cast downward towards the water slick ground, and the accumulation of rain forced spiky strands of ebony hair slick against his exposed flesh.

Had it not been nearing winter, Megumi would have indulged in the spontaneity of being gripped by rain, even letting kuro out to prance along side of him. Left hand flexed inside the damp pocket of his hoodie as the temptation gnawed at him to bring about some company. The bag continued to roll and slap the side of his leg; plastic holder twisting around to tightened uncomfortably about wrist. His devine dog's massive paws did not accompany the chorus of rain drenched sounds, instead animated footsteps drawing closer pulled Megumi's attention forward.

Even if the skies had been dominated by dark clouds, the radiance of Itadori Yuuji @protectivemuses would not have been snuffed out. The ebony haired boy stopped, hesitating — the surprise of seeing his friend brought pause to moments before he continued forward. He must have looked like a drenched and grumpy ( by Gojo's judgement ) cat while Yuuji looked like ... death could not damper his appearance. Megumi would know first hand after all.

( ❛ You don't have to . . . ❜ )

Words were equally muffled by the rain and went ignored as Yuuji's body nudged closer to his to bring both of their bodies under the cover of the yellow umbrella. Megumi pulled his hand from his pocket to prevent the bag from continuing its destructive habit while the modest semblance of a smile touched the edges of lips.

( ❛ Thank you, Itadori. ❜ )

[wormb0i-a]

blanket

ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs : [ BLANKET ] — sender drapes a blanket over receiver’s shoulders

It had been a couple of days since Yuuji had been out on a small mission with Ijichi-san and dogs and cats decided to start raining out of the blue. Yuuji had caught the worst of it as he waited to be picked up, having gotten soaked to his toes.

Naturally, he had gotten sick. But the past few days he had gotten worse instead of better, his nose blocked entirely and his throat itching like he had dust permanently stuck in it. And thanks to it all, they had had to interrupt his training, since every time he sneezed, that god-forsaken punch-plush he trained with would beat him to a pulp, and Yuuji did not have the energy to even get back up.

In fact, it would give him the brain scrambles, and he was sure it was that thing's fault he hadn't been getting any better.

Thankfully, Gojo-sensei had pitied him enough to give him a break, and now as Yuuji found himself nursing a hot drink, the sudden feeling of a weighted warmth around his shoulders made him look up. He wasn't expecting to see anyone but his sensei, of course, but the sight of him still incited in him a feeling of security and relief, which in turn made him sigh.

He put his drink down on the table in front of him, and tugged the blanket draped onto his shoulders down and tighter around himself with a sniff.

« Thank you, sensei, » he said, voice twangy and nasal from his stuffed nose.

[dissociation-station123]

Satoru GojoXReader-overthinker with a jokester who loves to make her DUMB

“Satoru you are a fucking idiot…” You scoff as he pouts, kneeling beside you. You were nearly finished with the novel you were reading when he had yanked it from your grasp. You glare up at him with sheer rage and he makes a startled noise.

But Satoru Gojo always recovers quickly. “You frown too much. Don’t complain when you get wrinkles Y/N.” Satoru flicks your forehead and tosses your book across the room. “I’m sooo bored!” His arrogance was astonishing as he lifted you up so he could plop down on the couch beside you.

Your eyes widen in shock at how brave he was. Most people throughout your life avoided your cold expressions as if you would kill them on the spot. In reality you were just not a fan of trivial conversation. You preferred meaningful dialogue. So it came to a surprise to yourself when you befriended this obnoxious jokester now scrolling on his phone and laughing way too loudly at stupid sixty second videos.

“Look at this cute doggo Y/N!” Satoru grins shoving his phone in your face. The puppy was adorable but you weren’t going to admit it to him. “Ooo come on you know you love it.” He takes back his phone, rolling those deep baby blues.

“I’m not amused by silly little clips, Satoru. Now give me my book back and leave me alone.” You frown, you lean your elbow into his side and he screeches in pain.

“Fine! Fine!” Satoru whines pushing you back. “You're so boring…” You shrug no longer bothered by such shallow insults. You knew you were not a social butterfly and have embraced yourself for it. “I don’t even know what I see in you?!”

You raise your eyebrow quizzically at the words that escaped him. “Without me around you would be wandering around aimlessly with no insight. You blindly trust everyone. You're clumsy and way too friendly. I drag you back to reality.” You answer with no emotion present in your tone. “You're pretty much a dog in human form. Now would you please be so kind as to fetch my damn book.”

Satoru did not move, instead he watched you intently. “If I’m a dog, you're a grumpy cat. You never leave your house. You always have something clever to say and it’s always in a very rude way. You're beyond depressing and fickle.”

“Then why do you keep coming over, fucking pestering me?!” You almost growl your fingers now digging into the collar of his t shirt pulling him closer. That stupid smile widens as you tighten your grasp.

“You want to know why?” Satoru whispered in almost a seductive tone. You knew he was trying to tease you. Even still your curiosity won over your instinct. You don’t reply, just simply wait for his response. His breath ghosted over your neck as he leaned closer. You swallowed heavily at the proximity. “My dear moody friend…” his voice lowered and you felt goosebumps form along your arms. “The way you can swallow my cock is addictive.”

“Such a whore…” You mutter but don’t dare move away from him, you never wanted to show how much he gets under your skin at times like this. You stare at him from your peripheral taunting him to do more.

Your friendship has become a bit more than platonic recently. A night of drinking had you both crossing those invisible lines. You now had a mutual agreement. Sex was fun and didn’t need to mean anything.

“I’m your little whore though…” Satoru says sweetly through a soft chuckle. His long fingers land on your knee then travel up your thighs. You gasp when he nibbles lightly on your earlobe.

You were not sure how Satoru does it. But he is able to completely quiet the chaotic thoughts that were always rambling around by a simple kiss. You were scared of how much you were starting to rely on it. “All those pesky thoughts. Let me help you to ease them from that cute little brain of yours.”

You somehow find resolve even as his fingers delicately dance along your inner thigh. You regretted wearing shorts today. Taking a shuddered breath you collect yourself and take hold of his wrist. “I would rather see how my book ends. So why don’t you go find trouble elsewhere?”

Satoru growls and it surprises you, it was as if he was actually frustrated. “Y/N…” The tone was dangerous, your heart suddenly jumped. You could no longer look at him without wanting to give in. You hear Satoru click his teeth, you could feel his glance. “Look at me…”

It was an order, no mistaking it for a suggestion. Yet you fought the overwhelming urge to follow it. You simply shake your head, your hands now clenched in your lap.

The more time you spend with him the more you imagine what type of relationship you would have. You knew your fantasies were always more thrilling than real life. You needed to limit your time in his presence. Therefore you picked up a huge chronicle of novels to read for the weekend.

Satoru had mentioned a club event in passing and you assumed he would go. So when he showed up at your doorstep you almost slammed the door in his face. And now he was touching you. Tempting you once again. “Your cruel Satoru Gojo… A fucking sadist…” You practically spat the words now picking at your fingernails as a way to calm yourself.

You have caused him to storm out on you in a tantrum on multiple occasions. You don’t mean to hurt others but sometimes what you allow to escape from your lips was too real for the average human. You jumped when instead he burst out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “Sat…” You go to speak his name.

“Shut up.” Satoru whispers as he cuts you off. His usual light hearted nature had completely shifted to something unrecognizable. “You want me to truly be cruel?” Those blue eyes were always soft and amused. But now there was pain there. You reached out to him but this time he took hold of your wrist.

You were at a loss for words even though millions of thoughts overwhelmed you. What is wrong? What have I done? Why are you like this? See it’s better if you're alone. You won’t hurt anyone if you don’t allow them to get to know you. You're a monster… “I will break through every single wall you put up, Y/N. I won’t let you run away. I will find you and bring you back. Even if I have to tie you down and cage you up.”

A weird tight feeling took root in your chest.. You tilted your head to the side as you looked up to him not understanding. “Why?! Why can’t you just leave me be? I can’t make you happy. I am a dark cloud following you around and everyone is uncomfortable. Can’t you see that!!” You dig your nails into the palm of your hand. You shout when Satoru yanks you to straddle his lap and takes hold of your chin roughly, making you stare up at him.

“You stupid woman…” He whispers and you grimace. “All this knowledge you have collected and dissected. I am amazed by how much you have accomplished. The rewards you have received. I am the one who felt as if I was always holding you back. You always have the right words to say when I need advice. You knew exactly how to logically figure out a solution I was too overwhelmed to see. I thought if I could make you laugh or smile maybe I could finally repay you. But you only found me as a nuisance yet you call me cruel…”

You hated how his face had fallen into such a depressed state. This was not the Satoru Gojo you were used to. It was like looking at your own reflection. “I…” You stuttered and fumbled. “I had no idea… so many people fawn over you, Satoru.”

“I finally found something you could use me for. I was so happy…” Satoru’s glance seemed to look past you.

“What do you mean?” You hear the nerves laced in your voice. A small grin forms but never reaches his eyes.

“I could use my touch to quiet all of the negative thoughts that seemed to plague you. That night when I had you under me…” Satoru paused and memories of that first night flashed through your mind. The way he took control over your very being. Your cheeks heated. “That was the first time I ever saw you truly smile for me…”

Fuck… this fucking idiot… “Stupid… You're an idiot…” You say through gritted teeth. “Why would you be satisfied with that?! I knew you were dumb Satoru but I didn’t know you were this pathetic…”

As your fist connects with his chest he steals a kiss that completely takes your breath from your lungs. The chaos of swirling emotions that had started to crash down in terrifying waves slowly turned gentle and soothing as his tongue slid across your lower lip. Your fists flattened your palms now exploring the curves of his chest greedily. “That’s it sweet girl… give in to me yeah…” His voice was a lulling lullaby to your ears as you whined in response.

Before giving your mind a chance to process his tongue was devouring the inside of your mouth. All you could do was open up for him. His kiss was so addicting… The voice in your mind began to fade to static. You moan into his lips when his large hands cupped your ass forcing you to grind on him. “That’s my good girl…” Satoru groaned. You gasped as you felt him harden beneath you.

“Satoru… Wait…” You regretted your words when those hands moved to grip your thighs and his fingers traced the soft inner skin, so close to your aching core. Satoru paused and looked down at you, his pupils blown wide. Soft blush coated his cheeks and his breathing was erratic. He was beautiful.

“Please Y/N…” Satoru’s lips pouted and his tone was almost a whimper. Fuck… “I fucking need to see you smile for me again… I need to see that you need me as much as I need you. Let me do this for you.”

You could not formulate a response, you were currently hypnotized by his desperation. Your whole body was fighting against your denial. “Ok…” You manage to whisper as your thumb traced along his lower lip. The toothy grin replaced the pout as he bites your thumb teasingly.

“Kiss me then.” Satoru ordered you, his voice lowering. Without the earlier hesitation you gave into his demand. His fingers now travel to softly trace the back of your neck as he pulls you deeper into the kiss.

As his teeth nip at your bottom lip he gently picks you up slightly to set you down into the couch on your back, now hovering above you. You actually laugh as he roughly undresses you no longer being patient. “Satoru relax…” You say amused as he slips off your shorts.

“No panties?” Satoru eyebrow raises and you roll your eyes. “So naughty!”

“I was comfortable in my own home and was not expecting company. Don’t flatter yourself.” You say as he smiles down his eyes traveling to take in every inch of your body. “You look possessed.” You tease him and he looks back up into your stare.

“Y/N…” Satoru’s voice lowers and the seductive tone makes you take in a breath. “I'm obsessed with making such an intelligent person unable to even form complete sentences… It’s fucking addictive.”

You fall silent as his hand wraps around your throat, he squeezes until your nails dig into his forearm and tears blind your vision. Strangled moans escape your mouth because at the same his thumb caresses your clit. Satoru hums, “You're already dripping for me… that’s so sexy…”

He releases the pressure on your throat while slipping two fingers into your cunt. You cry out as your body convulses and shakes below him. Your body is arching up on its own as intense pleasure courses through you.

“Fuck Satoru… fuck…” You can only mumble curses as your vision slowly becomes clear again. Yet he shows no mercy as his fingers plunge in and out of you. The sounds of your arousal makes you even more heated.

“Awww my pretty girl has such a dirty little mouth…” Satoru sneers but he groans when he feels your pussy clamping around his finger greedily. “Going to have to keep you quiet, aren't I?” Satoru kisses you deeply as he begins to scissor you. You moan into his mouth causing him to chuckle sadistically. “Stick that pretty tongue out for me…”

You nod stupidly and stick out your tongue in anticipation. “So obedient now aren’t we?” Satoru growls, running his fingers along your tongue while his other hand pushes deeper, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

You let out a feral sound as you drool against his fingers. Your nails digging into his waist like a cornered animal. “Fuck…” Satoru hisses as he feels you cum against his hand. “You drive me crazy when you break like this under me.”

“Mmm…” All you could do was whimper and choke as he pushed his fingers deep down your throat. Your hips bucking desperately and legs shaking uncontrollably.

As you feel your belly tighten for another orgasm he slows his tempo pulling his fingers out of your mouth. You whine in frustration being so close to going over the edge once again. All you could think about was missing that feeling.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours now?” Satoru brags because he knows that right now your thoughts are only on him. What he can do to make you feel good.

“Please….” You beg your eyes lowered lips in a pout, swollen from the fury of kisses. “Fuck me… fuck me…” You shout the only thing you could think of to get that feeling of being filled again.

You watch as he undresses all the way. You nearly drool from the sight of his freed cock, wet with precum. Throbbing to be buried inside you. “Smile for me…” Satoru barely is able to get the words out as he strokes his dick getting back onto the couch.

You hesitate that small bit of fight crawling its way to the surface. You hold back your sounds of pleasure when he runs his length along your folds.

There was now a war raging internally as you gritted your teeth not to appease him. “Your brain is finally waking back up huh?” Satoru laughed cruelly as he teased you, the tip slightly entering you but it wasn’t enough. You needed him deeper.

“I… hah…” You tried to speak but he was now rolling circles along your clit.

“What was that treasure…” Satoru knew you were trying your hardest to respond. He loved the way he could get you to become a mindless slut. He even leans down closer, his lips nearly touching yours. “It’s ok I’ll make you myself.”

Satoru does not push in; instead he coats his cock with your juices and yanks your thighs closed around it. You gasp in shock as your pussy feels the cold air. You look at him pleadingly.

As he slowly thrust against your closed thighs, his stare now becomes glossy as he loses a bit of himself. The plush softness of your skin. “What? What do you want?” Mocking you because you know he knows.

“Hmm.” You whine pathetically. Your sole focus was to have him where you wanted him most. Though his jaw clenching in struggle as he tries to control himself was intoxicating. “You want to fuck me as much as I want you to. So please!”

“Know it all…” He groans and you smile brightly as you see him spread your legs wider. “There it is… fuck so beautiful.” Before you could even process that his arm wraps around your waist and forces you to turn, now on all fours.

You thank him as he shoves his cock to the hilt. “You're so welcome pretty…” Satoru softly whispers as he tightly grasps your hips. “Now let me hear your cute little cries…” He pushes your head down to arch your back even more and relentlessly slams in and out, your pussy was already convulsing around him.

“Satoru… so good…” You say the only thing on your mind as you crumble into a crying mess. You moan loudly as you feel yourself edging back to that blissful release. “Cumming soon…”

Satoru no longer speaks. Just groans and occasional curses as your walls shutter against him, you slick dripping to coat his balls. “Me to…” You felt proud he was unable to hold out much longer. You both scream and shudder as you orgasm; you feel his slight panic as he pulls out and cums onto your back.

His weight now leaning against you as you both take in deep breaths. “Hah…” you are unable to move even a little.

“You do so well. The way your eyes roll back…” Satoru spouts compliments as he struggles to regain his own composure. “You're perfect.”

Perfect… Your heart raced again. You have always been so harsh to yourself. To imagine a man like Satoru Gojo telling you you're perfect. You could not believe it. Satoru sweetly tells you to relax as he goes to grab a washcloth. You were alone with your thoughts.

He smiles down at you as he cleans up the mess that was made. “You ok?” He asks suddenly, looking concerned.

“I was thinking…” You say in a bit of a joking manner and Satoru gasps.

“Well we can’t have that…” Suddenly he is picking you up, bridal style. You go to scold him for being too heavy but he clicks his teeth at you as he carries you to your bedroom. “I have to make sure that doesn’t happen. It will probably take all night.”

“Definitely, it will take all night.” You laugh, you feel yourself brighten up. A lightheadedness fogging anymore dark thoughts as he joins you on the bed.

“Tell me you need me.” Satoru was soaking in the happy expression on your face. Almost hypnotized by it.

“Satoru I need you… So don’t you leave me please.” You say the words you had been too stubborn to say out loud. Satoru Gojo looked overjoyed as he pecked small kisses on your entire face. You cared about him. It was scary but there was no denying it anymore. This idiot…