#poly!geto and gojo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunmoonjune · 1 year ago

Text

raspberry leaves

pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]

warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort

word count: 12.5k

a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)

Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life.

It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.

It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious.

Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands.

“What happened?”

But let’s rewind a moment, shall we?

It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so.

You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry.

It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours.

Your period is merciless.

You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point.

It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber.

Nothing seems to help.

A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now.

You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High.

You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them.

Not for this.

There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop.

You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own.

Can’t you?

But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure.

When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach.

You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep.

But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will.

Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself.

“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.”

Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later.

He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner.

Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.

But you’re not there.

Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright.

“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay?

Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace.

But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers.

He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse.

A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting.

Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach.

His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest.

“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.”

Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow.

“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound.

When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back.

You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway.

Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach.

“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?”

Still, you don’t respond.

You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him.

But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach.

You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak.

“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.”

All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after.

“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock.

You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle.

“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.”

Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look.

Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look.

You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop.

Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice.

“Sugu…”

He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name.

“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…”

You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you.

“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs.

Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again.

“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.”

“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”

Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly.

It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back.

You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache.

“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?”

You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream.

You just want to sleep.

“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.”

You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me?

But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets.

Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry.

Suguru lets him rest.

He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door.

“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.”

Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again.

“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.”

He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes.

“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.”

You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock.

It’s too much for you to handle alone.

You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone.

“Okay.”

Suguru hears the lock click.

Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.

You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach.

Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control.

He’s never seen you look so hurt.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.”

“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years.

This is a knife to his heart.

You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold.

“It hurts, Sugu…”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”

Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you.

“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you.

You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible.

“Haven’t slept yet.”

Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace.

Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh.

“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”

You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin.

“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you.

“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.”

“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.”

You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more.

“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.”

He hates the sound of your tears.

When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it.

“You took your painkillers?”

You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight.

“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”

“How long ago?”

He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain.

“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful?

“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…”

Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything.

“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.”

You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach.

“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”

You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around.

“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.”

His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle.

Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers.

Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that.

“You’re doing so well, my darling.”

Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes.

Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely.

Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason.

“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same.

“Hi, Sugu.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.

“Not really.”

Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”

You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed.

“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before.

“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”

You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand.

“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.”

Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first.

When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door.

But he only gets so far.

Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.

You sway on your feet.

Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic.

You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.

When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops.

Then your body stills, and you crumple.

“Baby!”

Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving.

He’s going to be sick.

His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared.

“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open.

“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”

He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks.

Suguru doesn't know what to do.

“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”

You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous.

“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…”

You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs.

“Satoru!”

His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids.

“Satoru, wake up!”

But Satoru is already awake.

Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body.

“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes.

Satoru thinks he’s dying.

It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway.

“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?”

His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation.

“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”

Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries.

“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”

“Suguru.”

The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns.

“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him.

“She’s not waking up…”

Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses.

‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up.

“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?”

Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…

And he doesn't want to.

His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek.

Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting.

“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.”

Satoru sags in relief.

“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.”

Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters.

Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son.

Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time.

Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home.

“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed.

Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright.

Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright.

Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son.

“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”

That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again.

“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.”

Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it.

Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now.

With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.

“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom.

“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.”

He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself.

From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin.

“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.”

Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek.

“Please.”

He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention?

Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons.

Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.

But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy.

Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now.

Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state.

Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup.

When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way.

So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully.

“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?”

Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response.

“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”

Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell.

Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi.

“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.”

Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache.

“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”

Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it.

Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be.

But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy.

“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back.

Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same.

“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables.

There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck.

Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father.

Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound.

Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out.

“Suguru…”

His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control.

Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features.

“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes.

“Wha’ happened?”

Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question.

“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?”

Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you.

“Sorry.”

Suguru shakes his head with a hum.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”

You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut.

“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”

Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.

“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap.

“Gumi’s awake?”

“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”

Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process.

“He’s worried about you, I think.”

We all are, he almost finishes.

You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”

You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.

“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.”

Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues.

“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks.

You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums.

“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.”

You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands.

“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.”

Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried.

Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture.

Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front.

“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”

The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can.

“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.”

You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace.

“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick.

“Hey,” Satoru murmurs.

“Hi.”

The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back.

When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too.

That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family.

When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake.

“Toru?”

The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear.

Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be.

“Oh, Satoru…”

Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down.

“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…”

You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him.

“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”

Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh.

With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity.

You’re here. And you’re safe.

Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.”

You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you.

Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest.

“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.”

Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back.

“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.”

You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms.

“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?”

Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling.

“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.”

You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach.

When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you.

Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly.

“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly.

“This is burning you,” he states it obviously.

“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.”

Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller.

“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?”

Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting?

Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.

“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.”

You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands.

“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.”

When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly.

“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners.

“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest.

“Good.”

Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near.

“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”

The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another.

“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.”

Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them.

When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist.

He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly.

Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too.

“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.”

Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest.

“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.”

In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside.

When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer.

“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?”

The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels.

When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read.

Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face.

Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.”

He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him.

“Thanks, love.”

Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you.

Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen.

“Careful!”

Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.

“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’

When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival.

“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple.

Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you.

“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?”

Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear.

“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.”

Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead.

“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”

Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes.

“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.”

You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close.

“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.”

The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed.

Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands.

“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.”

You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks.

When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family.

“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there.

“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.”

You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps, and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch.

Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru.

Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers.

Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch.

Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap.

“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly.

You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else.

“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!”

The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap.

No, he doesn’t think he will.

bonus:

gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty

reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you

geto, nodding along: she could

gojo, lovingly: I know

a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3

ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon

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ohimsummer · 3 months ago

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Hiii no pressure but whenever you do another satosugu texts could you do one where the reader is jealous of someone flirting with the boys while at the mall?

— minors dni, poly! stsg, jealous! reader, crack, cw satoru, fuck it cw suguru too

📱: : @anthoosies @staryukis @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @hellkaiserinphoenix @astral-hydromancy @bookswillfindyouaway @rosso-seta @sugurubabe @soraya-daydreams @arthurschneider @venzlenes @khaothick @haruchiy0 @sillysushi @hobarihope @crocodilethesir @starlightanyaaa @reodiaries @spicana @lovley212 @katharinasdiaryy @ninikrumbs @imaniitheoneee @tojislittleprincess @puppyminnnie @pinkfqiry @getoloverr @blindbabycadder @littlemissfix-itfic @luvr-exe @snackeyalleyjuice @apatauaia @trafalgarrattata @sataraxia @elleflying07 @toptierbunny @purplegemadventures @whokilledvivi @getouolgy @exinqiu @flvffybunny @leilalilox @babytoshiii @idkluvv @froggkat @princ3ss-juicy @starsharkz @zzzlevislothzzz @sugu-love @peachyaone @squishies0102 @ivy-vivii @mynahx3 @ratedrrrr @ha-zel-art

#don’t bully me about the low quality pics okay 😭 idk how the Apple Pay Cash thing works and those #were the only ones I could find that looked best BFJDJD #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen smau #stsg smau #satosugu smau #geto suguru smau #suguru geto smau #satoru gojo smau #gojo satoru smau #gojo smau #geto smau #satoru smau #suguru smau #poly stsg

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suguru-getos · 4 months ago

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satosugu when you get your period ->

a/n: on my period and want my men spoiling <3 mentions of fluff, period sex etc!!

-> precisely tweaking. they don’t even pretend that it’s a normal/casual thing which comes every month. suguru hates the way your mood turns into a low graph 📉 and he takes is sooooo personally :( he’s like, “angel- is there anything you’d like? maybe some waffles? maybe something else? what can i do to help make it better?” tweaking like a mother hen.

-> satoru gets you plushie heating bags because of course they are 💯 times cuter and his babygirl shouldn’t have anything except cute things. he’s definitely going to get you a kuromi, panda plushie, or something along those lines so you look cutesy in your little blanket with a plushie bag on your pelvis.

-> you love chocolates & suguru knows you do. there are sometimes entire goodies in your refrigerator because his little moonshine angel goddess SHOULD have chocolates duh??? you could find high end brands because he really thinks there must be something taste related otherwise why would they be so expensive? imported chocolates ftw 🙌

-> “you know princess, orgasms help~” satoru chirps shamelessly, he don’t care: 🤷🏻‍♀️ and it’s like extra lube for him anyways. 😏 you’d find him fucking the cramping out of your uterus over and over. he loves to see you whimper in pleasure not pain ‼️ like a good boyfriend should. suguru is nasty too, but it is also :3 on another level. he wants to have a go after satoru’s done with you so you just feel his girthier member stretch you out, mouth agape and sobbing in pleasure perhaps. ;)

-> god forbid if you actually stain your exclusive favorite undies then they would take you to shop asap. they know that mild feeling of regret IS NOT NEEDED in the satosugu household. be prepared for replacement immediately. <33

-> suguru hates it when things make you cry during this phase, so you’d find him exta clingy and touchy. eager to comfort, eager to provide you hugs and cuddles. the warmth of his hand kneading your pelvis and humming softly. he loves to see how his presence alone comforts you to a great degree & you end up napping over his chest.

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chosok-amo · 3 months ago

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THE ONE WITH THE PRANKS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

living with you is all fun and games. . . until you start pulling all of these harmless pranks on them.

w/c : 4,1k

warning : fluff

[☆] MASTERLIST

CRACK MY NECK, BABE?

you were sprawled on your bed, scrolling through your phone and idly passing the time. as you flipped through various videos, you stumbled upon one where a girl pulled an elaborate prank on her boyfriend by pretending he had accidentally broken her neck. the sheer shock on his face made you burst into laughter.

a mischievous idea sparked in your mind: what if you pranked suguru geto? his usual softness, gentleness, and delicate demeanor would make for a perfect reaction. the thought of him panicking over a broken neck scenario seemed both hilarious and irresistible.

feeling a rush of excitement, you decided to act on your idea. you got up from your bed and headed to the kitchen. you found some raw pasta and stuffed it into your cheeks, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous you must look. the hard pasta pieces poked uncomfortably, but the anticipation made it worth it.

with a mischievous grin on your face, you made your way to the living room. there you found geto and gojo in their usual spots— geto was engrossed in a book, while gojo was lazily watching tv. you could hardly contain your laughter as you approached them, knowing that your prank was about to unfold.

“love, can you crack my neck?” you ask him.

geto paused for a moment, looking up from the book he was reading. he studied your face for a second, noticing your slightly puffed cheeks. a mixture of confusion and concern crossed his usually calm expression. “crack your neck?” he repeated, his voice tinged with uncertainty. meanwhile, gojo, ever observant even in his lazy state, looked over at you, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

geto closed his book, resting it in his lap as he gave you his full attention. his eyes searched yours, trying to decipher the situation. “are you sure about this?” he asked, his tone gentle yet cautionary. meanwhile, gojo's lazy interest quickly turned into intrigue. he sat up slightly on the couch, no longer paying attention to the tv show he had been watching.

you nod, “yes, my love.”

you walk over to him and sit on his lap with your back facing him. “i've been feeling pain in my neck these past few weeks,” you pretend to complain with fake pain in your voice. geto's expression softened as you settled onto his lap, facing away from him. he gently placed his hands on your hips, steadying you. “why didn't you tell me earlier?” he asked, his concern growing at your complaint. his hands move to the base of your neck, tenderly massaging the area.

“it was nothing, i just wanted you to crack my neck,” you told him, still persistent on him cracking your neck. geto's brows furrowed a bit at your insistence, but his touch remained gentle and hesitant. as his fingers continued their careful massage, he spoke in a low, slightly worried tone, “are you sure this is the best way to deal with it? i don't want to hurt you, my love.”

you hummed softly, “yes, i'm pretty sure, baby.”

despite his initial hesitation, geto sighed softly and relented. he knew you could be stubborn when you wanted something. “alright, but please tell me if it hurts, okay? i'll be careful,” he reminded you, his voice tender but firm. gojo, now fully engrossed in the unfolding scene, leaned forward on the couch, his eyes fixed on you both.

you only nodded, don't really have faith in yourself if you open your mouth. geto takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what he's about to do. with one hand still resting on your hip, he carefully encircles your neck with the other hand. “ready?” he asks, his voice laced with both concern and determination. you only give your boyfriend a gentle nod as an answer.

with your confirmation, geto's grip around your neck tightens slightly. using a well-practiced motion, he applies a controlled, yet precise pressure to your neck, attempting to crack it. meanwhile, gojo, who had been silently watching, leans even more forward, his eyes wide in anticipation.

there's a sudden, loud cracking sound as it responds to the manipulation— but instead of it from your neck, it is actually from the raw pasta you just bite inside your cheeks. your body falls on the floor with hard tud and geto gasps in horror.

gojo is stunned into silence as the loud crack rings through the room. his eyes widen even further, his mouth hanging open in shock. geto, however, is horrified. he jumps up from the couch, his eyes fixed on you lying motionless on the floor. he drops to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he gently turns you over.

“no, no, no, no,” geto mutters under his breath, his voice filled with disbelief and panic. he frantically checks your breathing, his hands shaking as he brushes your hair away from your face.

“fuck, i'm sorry baby, fuck—”

meanwhile, gojo has leaped off the couch and rushed over to you, dripping with sheer panic. geto's touch is urgent and desperate as he searches for any sign of life. his eyes never leave your face, his own breath coming in short, ragged gasps. gojo kneels down beside geto, his usual confident demeanor nowhere to be seen. his fingers reach out to touch your wrist, searching for a pulse, any pulse.

geto and gojo's panic turns to confusion and disbelief as your laughter rings through the room. they exchange glances, their worry slowly shifting to a blend of relief and irritation. gojo speaks first, his voice a mix of relief and annoyance, “you scared us half to death!” meanwhile, geto's initial relief morphs into a mix of bewilderment and anger. he stands up, pulling you up with him, and scowls at you.

“what the hell was that all about?” he asks, his voice a mix of anger and relief. his hands grip your shoulders firmly, a mixture of frustration and bewilderment etched on his face. gojo stands up as well, his initial relief transforming into a blend of confusion, irritation, and a hint of amusement.

“i can't believe you pulled a prank like that. you could've given us a heart attack!” he exclaims, his voice a mix of relief and a hint of admiration for your audacity. with a pout kissing your lips, you look at geto who's much taller than you with a puppy's eyes, “i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..” you murmur a soft apology.

geto's stern expression softens slightly as he sees your pout. however, his irritation hasn't fully faded. he let himself fall on the couch with a sigh.

“you scared me half to death, baby,” he repeats, his voice a mix of relief and lingering anger, “i thought you were hurt—or worse.” gojo, standing beside geto, lets out another chuckle, finding some humor in the situation, “yeah, that was kind of a dick move on your part,” he says, his tone now more serious— more likely pretend to be serious.

geto shoots a sharp glare at gojo, silently telling him to shut up. he then turns his attention back to you, his eyes still holding a hint of disappointment. “i don't think it was funny at all. what possessed you to do something like that?” he asks, his tone a mix of bewilderment and lingering concern.

gojo moved to sit beside geto as you stood in front of them, pulling the now-broken pasta from your mouth. with a mischievous glint in your eye, you looked at geto and gojo, mumbling, “i saw this on tiktok and thought it was funny.” their jaws dropped in disbelief, clearly stunned by the lengths you went to for this prank.

geto gently pulled you onto his lap, and you settled there, letting your leg rest on gojo’s lap. you wrapped your arms around geto’s neck and said, “come on, baby, you know it was all in good fun.”

geto lets out a sigh, his irritation gradually melting away as you snuggle onto his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. he can't stay mad at you for too long— especially not with your legs now across gojo's lap. “it was ridiculous, that's what it was,” he mutters, his tone a mix of stubbornness and affection.

meanwhile, gojo leans back into the couch, a smirk on his face as he rest his arm on your legs. “yeah, it was pretty entertaining,” he admits, his eyes flicking between you and geto. geto swats at him again, “don't encourage her. we almost had a heart attack, for crying out loud.”

gojo dodges geto’s swat with his lightning reflexes, chuckling all the while. “oh come on, you gotta admit, it was a pretty impressive prank, though. she had us going.” meanwhile, you continue to cling to geto, shamelessly playing the cute card to win him over. “yeah man,” you grin happily and raise your hand to give gojo a high five, knowing fully that he always has your back for something like this. “oh great, now you're high-five him,” he looks at you in disbelief before turning to gojo, “encourage her more, why don't you?”

gojo high-fives your raised hand, a large smirk plastered on his face. “what can i say? i respect the dedication.” he turns his smirk towards Geto, clearly enjoying teasing him. “and come on, it was a helluva prank. you have to give her credit for that.” geto rolls his eyes at gojo's response. He knows better than to argue when gojo is siding with you. “oh, yeah, a 'helluva prank',” he mocks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. he turns to look at you, his expression softening a fraction. “next time, maybe pick something less heart-stopping, okay?”

geto's resistance seems to soften under your affectionate display. despite his annoyance, he can't stay mad at you when you're clinging to him so adorably. he lets out another sigh, this one more resigned than stern. “you're lucky you're cute,” he mutters, his tone now laced more with fond resignation than lingering irritation.

HIDING SOMEONE IN THERE?

you heard the front door close and the familiar voices of gojo and geto echoing through the hallway. when you realized they were close enough to see you, you quickly shut the door behind you and pretended to hide someone in the room. you made sure to act like you were trying to keep a secret, adding a playful air to your hiding game as you waited for their reaction.

“h-hy, babe, how's work?” you ask, standing in front of the door and pretending to be nervous.

gojo was the first one to notice your demeanor. he couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at your unusually jumpy behavior and your nervous tone. he studied you carefully, narrowing his eyes as he tried to discern what was going on.

“it was fine,” he replies, his voice laced with curiosity. “but something seems off with you. is there something you're hiding from us? who's in there?” he questions. you shook your head, “n-no, i'm not hiding anything, nobody in there,” you tell them, holding tightly to the door handle.

geto chuckled at your attempt to be innocent. he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he observed the way you were guarding the door so vehemently.

“oh really?” he says with a knowing smirk. “why are you being so secretive then?”

gojo took a step closer to you, his eyes scanning your face for any hint of a lie. he could tell you were hiding something, and he was determined to find out what it was. “come on, babe,” gojo said, his voice gentle but firm. "tell us what's going on."

he reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. he could feel the tension in your grip, and he knew you were feeling nervous about something.

geto leaned forward, his expression now slightly serious. he knew how stubborn you could be when you were trying to keep a secret, and he was growing more curious by the second. gojo stepped even closer to you, towering over you as he looked down into your eyes. “open the door,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“it was nothing,” you persist, gently pushing gojo. with your curse, you make a sound inside the room, trying to make it more believable that you actually hiding someone inside.

gojo's eyes widened as he heard the sound coming from behind the door. he knew you were trying to distract him, but that only made him more suspicious. he quickly grabbed your shoulders, gently but firmly pinning you against the wall.

geto's smirk faded, replaced by a more concerned expression. he looked between you and the door, his mind racing with possibilities. he was getting impatient, “stop trying to hide from us. just tell us what's really behind that door.” you rolled your eyes— purposely knowing how much they hate when you do so and shook your shoulders to get hojo’s hands off you. “it’s nothing,” you said with a dismissive tone. “nobody’s in there. just go on.” you gave them a gentle push, urging them to move along.

gojo's grip on you didn’t loosen. in fact, it tightened a bit more as he leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on yours. “we know you're lying, babe,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. “there's clearly someone behind that door, and we deserve to know who it is.” geto moved to stand next to gojo, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you intently. he was starting to get annoyed by your stubbornness.

you look up to them, take a step back as you glue your back to the door. you shrug your shoulders, “i told you nobody's in there,” you casually said, acting nonchalantly.

gojo's expression darkened, his patience starting to wear thin. he took a step closer, his body towering over you once again.

“cut the act,” he said, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone. “you're only making yourself look more suspicious. just tell us who's behind that door already.” geto's gaze flicked between you and the door, his curiosity growing even more. he took a step closer, blocking any escape route. when you just stare at them without saying anything, gojo rolls his eyes and looks at geto. the black-haired man nodded his head and held you while he opened the door.

as the door swung open, the room was surprisingly...well, empty.

gojo's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“what the hell...” he mutters.

geto, still holding onto you firmly from behind, also seemed surprised by the lack of anything in the room. “did you really make us think you were hiding something, just to play with us?” he asks, the irritation evident in his voice. you laugh a little, “i told you it was nothing.”

gojo's annoyance started to turn into a mix of irritation and amusement. he shook his head, his lips slightly tugged into a smirk. “you're insufferable, you know that?” he says, his voice now laced with a hint of affection.

geto released his grip on you and let out a sigh, but his eyes were now filled with curiosity. “so, you really weren't hiding anything?” he asks, genuinely baffled. you push gojo inside the room and close the door before looking at geto. “oh, i'm in there, hehe, it's me!” gojo voice could be heard from inside the room. geto just laughs as you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him away to leave gojo alone.

“ah! who are you?” gojo screamed to nothing from the inside before he opened the door and saw you leave with geto. geto chuckled as he glanced at gojo's confused expression. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you away from the room, giving a nonchalant wave to gojo.

“see you later, love,” he called out, his voice filled with a hint of mischief.

meanwhile, gojo stood there dumbfounded, processing what had just happened. he couldn't believe you had tricked him into thinking you were hiding a person in there all this time. as you and geto walked down the hallway, geto couldn't help but laugh heartily, impressed by your sneaky ploy.

“i can't believe you made us think you had someone in there just to pull one over gojo,” he said, still chuckling. “you're something else, you know that?” you just giggle when he kisses your cheek. gojo caught up with you and geto, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face.

“i swear, you're going to drive me crazy one of these days with your pranks,” he said, shaking his head. “but i guess i should've known better than to fall for your schemes.” you glanced behind you and saw gojo already removing his blindfold. “so much for those six eyes,” you remarked, “and all for nothing.”

gojo chuckled and rolled his eyes. “yeah yeah, rub it in why don't you,” he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “i guess even with six eyes, i can still be tricked by my own girlfriend,” he added, his eyes landing on you. geto couldn't help but laugh again at the whole situation.

GIRLS' NIGHT

you are giggling to yourself as you put on a dress that shows too much skin for your comfort and for your two boyfriends' liking. it was already past midnight, and the three of you were ready to go to bed, but you decided to prank your boyfriend before going to sleep.

you can hear their voice talking in your shared bed. so with your make-up on and dress hugging your body, you walk out of the bedroom. as you walked out of the bedroom, gojo and geto suddenly went silent. their conversation stopped abruptly as their eyes locked on you, both gazes traveling up and down your body, taking in the sight of your exposed skin.

gojos breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly. he swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure as his eyes lingered just for a moment too long on your curves. geto's gaze darkened, his eyes scanning every inch of you. his jaw tensed as he tried to hold back his urges.

“where are you going? it's past midnight,” gojo asks, his possessiveness echoes through the room. his silver eyebrows knit together.

“i'm going out with a friend,” you tell them while standing in front of the mirror, giving them your back. both gojo and geto's expressions darkened at your reply. gojo's jaw clenched and geto's eyes narrowed. their possessiveness flared as you stated that you were going out with a friend.

“at this hour?” gojo's voice was laced with a hint of irritation. “who exactly are you going out with?” his eyes flicked over your skimpy outfit, his mind already filled with thoughts of other men seeing you like this. “i’m going out with the girls,” you said, trying to hide your smile. “babe, could you send me some money?” you turned around to face your boyfriends, who were now sitting on the bed.

gojo and geto exchanged glances, their expressions still guarded and possessive. “the girls, huh?” geto repeated, his voice betraying skepticism, “which girls?” gojo's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall before looking back at you. he nodded slightly. “i'll send you the money, but where are you going exactly?” he asks, trying to hide the unease in his voice. “shoko, utahime, and i are going to check out this new club that just opened,” you explained, giving them a ‘duh’ expression as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

gojo and geto's expressions softened slightly, but their suspicion still lingered in their eyes. they knew you weren't telling them the full truth, “that new club in shibuya?” gojo's eyes narrowed slightly. “the one that's all the rave right now?”

geto folded his arms, his jaw clenched. “that place is filled with all kinds of people,” he said, his voice wary. “are you sure its safe for you to be going there?” gojo couldn't help but feel uneasy about the thought of you being surrounded by a bunch of drunk men in a crowded and dimly lit club. he knew how protective and possessive he was, and the thought of other men looking at you sent a pang of jealousy through his chest.

geto, too, shared the same concern. his mind was filled with thoughts of some random guy trying to hit on you or touching you in ways only he and gojo were allowed to do. he clenched his fists, trying to rein in his anger.

“come here first,” gojo called you, waving his hands for you to walk closer. the moment you were close enough for him to hold, he wrapped his arm around you and gently threw you effortlessly onto the bed as you let out a small gasp and geto fast enough to cover your body with a blanket and sandwiches you in the middle, enveloping you in their warmth. “you're not going anywhere,” he hugged you tightly as your laughter mingling with surprise.

gojo's arms encircled your waist tightly, pulling you closer until your body was pressed against his chest. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, a possessive growl escaping his lips.

geto leaned in, adding an extra layer of protection by covering you with his own body. he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers gently tracing small circles on your skin. the room was filled with a mix of laughter and the sound of your heartbeat. gojo's hold on you was almost crushing, as he wrapped his long limbs around you, pinning you down on the bed.

geto's body was pressed against your back, his steady breaths fanning your hair. his fingers continued to lightly trace your skin, his touch gentle but possessive. “you're not going anywhere,” gojo's voice soft as he looks at you, “you're stuck here with us tonight.”

“why can't i go?” you laugh, still trying to wiggle your way out.

gojo's arms tightened around you, his grip almost bruising. “because we said so,” he replies, his voice stern, “those clubs are filled with drunk idiots and creeps. we're not letting you out of our sight.” geto nods in agreement, his chin resting on your shoulder. “besides, we think you look better with less clothing anyway,” he mutters into your ear, his voice low and filled with desire. “pervert, you just want to keep me for yourself,” you hit his arm lightly.

gojo chuckles against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “guilty as charged,” he murmurs, his lips barely tracing the sensitive skin of your shoulder. geto chuckles as well, his hand sneaking under your dress to caress your thigh. “can you blame us?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust. “look at how perfect you are. why would we ever want to share you with anyone else?”

let's just say nobody slept that night.

HEIMLICH

you and your two boyfriends are in the kitchen, preparing dinner together. you were standing by the counter eating some chips and just talking with your boyfriends. as you munched on your chips, gojo and geto were busy working on dinner, trying to outdo each other with their cooking skills.

gojo was cutting vegetables with a determined expression, his knife moving deftly and precisely.

geto was standing by the stove, stirring a pot of sauce with a spatula. every now and then, he would taste the sauce and make slight adjustments to the seasonings. the kitchen was filled with the clanking of pots and pans, the sound of sizzling oil, and the occasional banter from your boyfriends.

gojo and geto immediately turn their attention towards you as you start choking. they both rush over to your side, their eyes filled with concern.

“babe, are you okay?” gojo asks, frantically patting your back to help you breathe. geto grabs a glass of water from the counter and hands it to you, his own panic evident in his voice. “just breathe, take it easy,” he says, gently rubbing your back. you pointing at your throat, still coughing silently telling them that there is something stuck in your throat.

you pointing at your throat, still coughing while silently telling them that there is something stuck in your throat.

gojo and geto's eyes widen in realization as they see you gesturing to your throat, still coughing. “something's stuck?” gojo asks, his voice laced with worry. geto quickly moves behind you, positioning himself to perform the heimlich maneuver if necessary. “just try to breathe and stay calm,” he says, his hands ready to help.

he makes a fist with one hand and grabs it with the other. place his hands just above your belly button and below the ribcage. the moment he is ready to pull inward and upward on the diaphragm to force air out of the lungs to expel the blockage and feel your rear touching his crotch, you moan sensually.

geto quickly pull himself away and his face turns red as he realizes what just happened. gojo, on the other hand, can't help but burst into laughter. “did you just...?” geto mutters, his eyes still wide from surprise. gojo is practically howling with laughter now.

geto's face turns even redder, his mind clearly playing out a different scenario than what had just happened. you continue to burst out in laughter, enjoying his stunned expressions.

gojo can barely contain his laughter as he watches geto's flustered expression, still clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. “i can't believe you actually moaned,” he sputters between fits of laughter. geto tries to regain his composure, still blushing deeply as he looks at you. “you did that on purpose,” he mutters, his voice a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

you continue to laugh uncontrollably, finding the whole situation hilarious. gojo finally catches his breath and wipes away tears of laughter. “oh my god, that was priceless,” gojo says, still shaking with laughter. geto, still quite red and flustered, crosses his arms and pouts playfully. “you're never going to let me live this down, are you?” he asks, his voice laced with humor. you shake your head as you hold geto arm for support while you still laughing.

geto rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile at your endearing behavior. he playfully pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “you're enjoying this too much, brat,” he mutters, his voice filled with affection.

gojo grins widely, clearly still amused by the situation. “that was the best heimlich maneuver i've ever seen,” he says, chuckling. geto just groans, burying his face in his hands as he tries to hide his embarrassment. “i cannot believe you just did that,” he mutters, his voice muffled.

“i think you broke him,” he teases, nodding towards geto, who is still trying to hide his face. geto groans even louder, still mortified by the whole situation.

“i'm never performing the heimlich on you again,” he mutters, his voice filled with mock annoyance.

1K notes · View notes

kentosmirrorball · 6 months ago

Text

{SMAU}: poly! satosugu texts <3.

{warnings}: profanity, suggestiveness.

pre-relationship:

during satosugu:

establishing relationship:

this was so long overdue!! but here we go <3

-x-x-x-x-x-

2K notes · View notes

bunny584 · 7 months ago

Text

OBSESSED: SHOKO feat THE BOYS (FINALE)

A/N: Well, well, well. Oh how the tables have turned, dear reader. It’s not so easy — juggling two special grades and their personal physician…is it?

S/N: This is it. The pièce de résistance. I was…this is…NO ONE LOOK AT ME AFTER YOU READ THIS. No idea the word count. Long af, though.

C/W:….the trio is their own content warning lol. Mature. 18+, MDNI.

Part I, Part II.

Is this…a dream?

This must be what it feels like to hear Domain Expansion, Infinite Void.

White static coats Shoko’s brain. She’s breathing underwater. Thinking in molasses.

It’s a miracle her legs are working — they’re currently trailing behind you and the boys, back to her apartment.

Her eyes are working, too — they’re attached to the dress rippling and bouncing off your ass. Your hips are a hypnotic pendulum. Swinging back and forth.

Back and forth.

The tailwind from your strut is a bad actor.

Every so often teasing your cotton panties that won the lottery. Kissing up against your pretty petals. Riding along the plump curve of your mounds. Accentuating the intoxicating swell of your hips.

It’s paralyzing.

You are paralyzing.

Satoru’s hand is curled around the back of your neck. His azure glow is so pristine, so bright it refracts off your gorgeous cheekbones. Dampening his Limitless and intensifying his Six Eyes.

Because the first to taste a meal is usually one’s eyes…right?

Shoko can nearly hear the depravity ringing between Satoru’s ears.

Then there’s Suguru.

An arm is draped around your waist, capturing and releasing the hem of your dress every few seconds. Mindless movements. His sniper-like gaze focused on the apartment door at the end of the hall.

Cool. Calm. Collected.

One would think, if you don’t know Suguru well enough.

His normally, perfectly repressed cursed energy surrounds him. Flickering into the air like campfire embers just waiting for the next gust of wind to erupt. Amethyst and graphite swarm around her best friend — the only indicator of his disintegrating self-control.

20 steps left until she is expected to produce door keys. The only thing standing between everyone and you.

This is it.

This is the moment. The one chance you get at ‘doing it right this time.’

15 steps.

There are no more wishes granted. No more genies stuffed into bottles, or whatever. This is it.

10 steps.

Get your shit together, Ieiri.

Do not squander this on the sidelines.

Shoko wires around the three of you. Stepping ahead to slot the frivolous piece of aluminum standing between her and her wet dream.

The apartment door flies open. Satoru’s hand moves on autopilot — deepening his grip around your neck.

His conscious brain recedes. Triple distilled, unadulterated need moves in like a tropical storm.

Silky strands of your hair plaited in his fingers.

Wide, warm eyes locked into his.

Tiny slit in those pouty, siren lips of yours.

He will dismantle you. Piece by fucking piece.

Until you’re a babbling, sobbing brook beneath his fingers. Apologizing for being such a cocktease.

“Satoru…?”

There’s a change in your voice.

Fear? Nerves?

Prey finally realizing who is next on the menu?

Satoru is staring. Fully aware of how disarming his eyes can be. Born with godlike vision and somehow the only thing he can see in the room is you.

His greed is a threat to National Security. DEFCON Level 1.

His mouth ghosts yours. Barely registering Suguru encasing you from behind. Trailing his palms along your thighs.

“Safe word, princess.” Satoru maps every ridge, every teeth indent on that gorgeous bottom lip.

“For when you need to tap out.” Suguru augments Satoru’s command. Gentle nip at the tip of your ear and you moan. Bitten back and clipped.

“Such pretty sounds,” Shoko’s voice is distant. Breathy. Coated in Cabernet.

“I..don’t—”

Satoru slices your protest in half. Rolling your bottom lip under his teeth. Biting and licking his way across your pout. At the same time Suguru drops his mouth to your pulse point.

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” Suguru murmurs into your neck. A filthy fucking whine escapes your lips and Satoru’s fingers go to your nipple.

Hard. Pert and neglected. Desperate for attention.

Just like you.

The way you’re panting into Satoru’s mouth. Listless and loose, bending into Suguru’s presence behind you.

“He gave you an order, baby.” Suguru’s smile is so tender. Almost torturous against your oversensitive skin.

“Don’t…ah..don’t need a safe word.”

A weak declaration against Satoru’s kiss. Earning yourself a sharp twist of your sensitive buds. And gifting him a kitten squeal that makes his cock twitch.

“Ohhhh Suguru, Shoko. We have a brat on our hands.” He muses, hovering his lips over yours. Satoru pets the steel rod between his legs. Already dewy with his arousal.

You are so beautiful, trying to resist their coordinated touch. The sound of Suguru’s large hand palming your ass reverberates throughout the room.

“I’ll teach her some manners.”

Suguru’s voice trails down your spine. Slow and sickly sweet. Like maple sap dripping down tree bark mid spring. He caresses the hot sting from his spanking.

“I—I have manners.” Voice as small as your frame engulfed between the 6’3 counterparts.

“I won’t ask again, princess.” Satoru tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. And Suguru continues sucking kisses into your neck, marking his territory.

“Uh..mmm..god, S—“ Your eyes flutter closed. An earnest attempt to stay present. And not settle into the fuzzy, warm submission they are baiting you into.

“Safe word, now.”

“B—um. Blue? Blue.” Your resolve is about as rigid as cotton.

“Blue?”

“Well that’s not fair.”

Shoko and Suguru’s incredulous reactions intertwine with Satoru’s smug chuckle. A dusty rose high on your cheeks.

You know why you chose Blue. Everyone else does, too.

“Blue, huh?” Satoru presses a soft kiss on your lips.

“To match me? Noted, baby.”

Shoko melts into her couch. Her heartbeat rattles around her skull. With short, ineffective breaths that taste like full bodied red wine. Wet heat surges around her lace thong.

The way you’re writhing between her best friends’ hands is sinful.

Gazing up at Satoru like he is Vincent Van Gogh and the Starry Night above you is the product of his paintbrush.

Incoherent as if Suguru’s fingers put the Sun to bed. Whimpering his name like a prayer.

Adorable, girl.

God isn’t going to save you here.

The pads of Shoko’s cool fingers nearly sizzle against her puffy pleasure point. Slick coating her with just one, two, three long stripes against her sticky folds.

“God...fuck..bring her to me.” The grit in Shoko’s tone scrapes along her voice box. Matching the aggressive pace of her fingers against her needy cunt.

The boys lock gazes with their third. Cavalier smile tugging against Satoru’s lips. Suguru’s brow touches his hairline.

Ladies, first.

“You heard her.” Satoru snakes your arms around his neck and hoists you around his waist in one fluid motion.

“S—sato—“ He bullies his tongue back into your mouth. No more protesting, gorgeous.

Slow steps towards Shoko, so he can drink from your well. A sweet, delectable spell dripping from your lips. And if Satoru doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning after eating your forbidden fruit, then so be it.

Suguru lets himself watch you from a short distance.

His hand can’t stop rubbing his cock. Shamelessly tugging his heavy rod. Burning your little expressions into his mind’s safe. The way your eyebrows come together at the center whenever Satoru bites your bottom lip. Your desperate grabs for air against his relentless kiss.

“Hi, pretty.” Shoko drawls the moment Satoru settles you down on her lap. Her thigh digs into your soaked, gummy core. Glazing her skin with your drool.

“Hi, Sho.” Still panting from Satoru’s embrace. So fragile. A harsh breeze could shatter you to stardust. And Shoko pulsates around nothing.

One hand is firm on your hip. The other tracing mindless shapes on your chest. Leaving a poetic cascade of goosebumps in her wake.

Reflexively, you go to caress Shoko’s shoulders only to be caught by Satoru’s enormous grip. Whipping both of your wrists behind your back. While his other hand toys with the erection straining against his pants.

“She didn’t give you permission to touch, did she princess?” He drops his tone into the shell of your ear.

“Oh, I—“

“Manners, gorgeous.” A gentle reminder in between smearing kisses along your neck. Shoko hooks her index finger along your neckline. One tug and your mouth-watering tits come into full view.

“Fucking, hell.”

“God, baby.”

“Perfect…fucking perfect.”

Satoru, Suguru and Shoko’s praises crash into one another. God took his time with you. Sculpting a fucking masterpiece.

To be praised.

To be worshipped.

To be taken.

Used.

Filled.

“Shoko. I want to hear her.”

Suguru’s command is guttural. Fist snug around the base of his cock. Shameless about the tears of precum falling down his shaft.

Shoko’s fingers work their way down to your pulsing clit. You preen into her touch. Pretty, tiny gasps against her cheek.

“Let it out, baby.” Shoko coos into your ear. Thumbing little circles around your clit.

You bury your face into her neck. Delicious ache swelling between your legs. Grinding along her slender thigh. Honey seeping around your clothed cunt.

“S—sho, mmnngh..fuck..” Desperation fans Shoko’s neck. Bucking your hips with your hands restrained.

“There she is.”

Suguru’s fist slams to his hilt. Now close enough to cup your perky mound. Rippling and bouncing with every jolt. Feathering his finger over your pebbled bud.

The sudden touch and velvet voice above you drags your gaze upward.

And Suguru nearly cums in his hand right then and there.

Misty eyes, drool covered lips. Breathy pants. Angelic features rewritten by lust.

“Suguru?”

“Such a good girl. Keep fucking her thigh like that, baby.”

Throaty praise in return. Suguru rips his hand away from his angry length. Staving off his finish.

Not yet.

They’re not remotely close to being done with you yet.

“She’s so responsive.” Satoru chimes in. Releasing his grip on your wrists.

Your hands fly to Shoko’s face. Melding your mouth with hers. Leaking precious sounds, from your lips and your sopping wet core. His hand kneads your neglected breast, pinching your nipple every so often.

Satoru and Suguru palming at your tits. Shoko fucking your mouth with her tongue. You humping Shoko’s leg like a dog in heat.

It’s too much.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes into your groin. You nestle into the crook of her neck. Grasping at her thick, brunette locks.

“S-sho, I’m close, I’m—mmgh..”

“It’s okay pretty,” Shoko husks. Her thumb at a perfect rhythm and pressure.

“You can cum, baby.” Suguru rasps, tugging at your nipple at the same time Satoru smacks the supple flesh he was petting.

“Oh fuck oh fuck—“

The delicious sting from their touches sends you over the edge. And the wire seated deep in your stomach snaps. Hips stuttering to an abrupt stop.

The room stills. Satoru, Suguru and Shoko studying your micro movements through your peak. So quiet that the walls have to lean in to hear you and your lovers breathing.

Six eyes laser into your body. Everyone’s appetite for you simultaneously tripling.

Satoru swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Subconsciously aware of the pool of saliva forming. His manhood mirroring the trail of drool running down his mouth.

He’s always been a fan of dessert.

“I need to taste you.”

“And I need a front row seat.” Shoko nibbles at your cheek.

Satoru lifts and spins you around on Shoko’s lap in a matter of seconds. You, still gummy and compliant from your orgasm spread your legs weakly over Shoko. Earning you a chorus of praise from your lust-drunk lovers.

He drops to his knees. His blushing, weeping tip in hand. Pushing your sodden panties to the side. While Shoko cradles your thigh in her hand, holding you open for her best friend.

Your rose blooms in front of him. Dewy with your slick. Candied scent holding all of Satoru’s senses hostage.

“Look at how pretty, she is.” He breezes against your swollen pearl. Your petals quiver, and his dick leaks.

“S—Satoru..please.”

Satoru’s head is spinning. Entirely drunk off of the sight of you like this. Choking back his own pathetic groans.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your ripe folds. And your taste pollenates his mind for an eternity. An addict with his chosen vice.

Your hands magnet to his snowy halo. The melody you sing from his kisses and licks could sink any ship. Echoing in Satoru’s and Shoko’s groin.

Shoko is in a complete haze. Molesting herself numb at the way you undulate against Satoru’s eager tongue. Pitiful little mewls that are worthy of a platinum record.

“Feeling good, gorgeous?” Shoko eggs you on. Quickly sinking into her own threatened orgasm.

“Y—yes..mmgh so..god..” Paper thin squeals from your lips.

Crystals line your eyes in response to Satoru’s tongue fucking in and out of your pussy. Suckling your clit. Figures of 8, and 8 and 8 again until your mind is mush.

Except Suguru refuses to let you get lost at Satoru’s sea. He grips a handful of your hair, whipping your head in his direction.

Both you and Shoko tilt up to see Suguru’s driveling manhood at your eye level. Veiny, heavy. So clearly abused by his hand. Volcanic eruption in his hooded gaze.

“Hands on my cock, baby.”

Barely above a whisper, but somehow your body recognizes his authority.

And you seem genuinely shocked by your visceral obedience. Immediate acquiescence to Surguru’s will.

An approving grin teases Suguru’s lips. Your hands are comically small wrapped around his length.

God, he could split you in half.

Heavy eyelids from Satoru’s agonizing touch, you’re mystical. Gazing into Suguru’s eyes like his soul is nothing but an appetizer. Yours to swallow, digest, play with.

“Ask nicely.” Suguru grunts, as your eyes rake over his leaky cockhead. Longing for a taste.

Satoru and Shoko come to a hush. Her fingers slow. Satoru forces himself off of your folds. Somehow knowing the next words to roll off your tongue will shift their brain chemistry, permanently.

Palatial lashes fan your utterly fucked-out gaze. Swollen lips millimeters away from Suguru’s blunt tip.

“May I suck your cock, please?”

Filthy-nasty-dirty-fucking-vulgar noises fill the room, while you swirl Suguru’s cum covered head around your tongue.

“Fuck. Your lips baby.” He hisses, his hips piston into your pretty, accepting mouth.

“So messy, princess.” Satoru murmurs into your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers past your tight ringlet.

Beautiful gurgles around Suguru’s shaft. Crystalline streams of spit glazing your puffy tits.

You buck into Satoru at a similar, haphazard pace that he strokes his thick rod. Shoko sinks her teeth into your shoulder.

“G-gonna c..gonna—“ high pitched, broken warnings spill from your lips. Just as a blinding wave of electricity surges down Shoko’s legs — curling her pedicure inward.

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

Suguru’s decadent baritone sends both you and Shoko over the hot edge. A cacophony of huffs and whines, coating the walls in your shared ecstasy. Spraying your essence all over Satoru’s face.

He’s slow to stand. Savoring remnants of your peak. He and Suguru exchange sordid glances. Sharing the same thought.

Pretty little doll.

Loose limbed and spent in Shoko’s lap. Hair mused. So deeply entrenched into sub space you’ll need to sleep it off of to come to your senses.

A work of art, you are.

But not quite broken, yet.

“It’s our turn now, little one.” Deep and measured. Thick with want. Suguru lifts you by your arms off of Shoko’s lap.

His back lays flush against the couch. You straddle his muscular lap. Satoru stands directly behind you.

Suguru’s manhood is rigid. You’d have to impale yourself on him to get any closer. Similarly, Satoru’s length makes itself very present along the curve of your spine.

“Look at me.” Satoru’s throaty demand comes from above your head.

Obedience is the only language you can currently speak, so you tilt back. Soaking in the celestial boy behind you. Closer to God than Man, from this vantage point.

“You want to taste yourself, baby?”

A rhetorical question from Satoru, but you still bobble your head in an eager yes.

“Such a desperate little puppy, aren’t you?” Suguru mocks you, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth.

“She is.”

Satoru affirms in between spearing your mouth with his warm muscle. Kissing the breath directly from your lungs until you’re air hungry and clawing at his neck. Leaving red streaks on his pale skin.

Shoko has since poured herself another glass of red wine. Settling herself on the long arm of her couch.

‘Far enough to drown into her own spiral. Close enough to register everything they do to you in the the most permanent part of her mind.’

Dèjá Vu.

But this lifetime? This reiteration of events? It’s fucking sublime.

Shoko’s lips curl into a cheshire smile against the rim of her glass. Hedonistic on every single level known to man and she wouldn’t have it any another way.

Her eyes flicker down to where Suguru’s hands are eclipsing your hips. And Satoru’s hands are cradled into the small of your waist. Hovering you over Suguru’s cock. The weapon of mass destruction that it is.

“Suguru…Suguru it won’t…” Beautiful little panic ascending in pitch.

“It won’t, what baby?” He teases. Eyes fixed on you like the apex predator he is.

Crimson erupts from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears. Fluttering away from his quicksand gaze.

“What’s the matter, pretty? Don’t tell me you think you can’t handle—“

“I can handle it—I can…handle it.” You cut Satoru’s taunt down, convincing absolutely no one in the room— including yourself.

But the shred of pride you have left comes forward. Bracing your hands on Suguru’s flexed shoulders. Digging little crescent moons into his olive skin.

He can barely bite back the groan in his throat when your wet heat drags along his cockhead.

Twitching around your opening.

Feigning for entry.

“Go ahead, little one.”

“You can do it, baby.”

“Oh FUCK..GOD.” Your volume is nothing in comparison to the fire incinerating your plush walls. Stretching your womanhood in a way that’s ungodly.

Suguru is blinding.

Flashing lights. Black spots in the visual field. Floaters everywhere kind of blinding. The prior encouragement from your lovers did nothing to soften his blow.

Knowing this would be the result of you trying to work his inhuman length inside yourself, Suguru buries himself in one side of your neck. Satoru mirrors his action on the other side.

Gentle adoration. Tender kisses. Light caresses to dull the pain.

“Such a good girl.”

“I knew you could take it, princess.”

“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”

Suguru rocks his hips in a slow, dreamy pace. Back and forth. Encouraging your body to reset around him. And the pressure. The delicious fucking fullness from his cock is mind numbing.

“R—ready.”

Barely loud enough to register. But Suguru could hear your red blood cells colliding with one another in your veins if you keep him next to you long enough.

“Eyes on me when I’m inside you, sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.”

The smile on his lips is no where near as tantalizing as the smile in his crushed velvet eyes.

And for a moment that is going to be on cinematic repeat in everyone’s mind — Suguru thrusts into you like a man trying to repopulate earth. Never once letting you break his eye-contact.

Melodic sounds of bodies smacking together ring throughout the room. Beautiful ripples of flesh, like soft waves during low tide. Your wet sex colliding with his. Him locking you into place because nothing else exists at this moment.

Both Satoru and Shoko’s jaws are slack. Satoru can’t even bring himself to stroke his length thrashing wildly in his hands.

This is hypnotizing.

A motion picture worthy of an Oscar.

You can feel Suguru recreating the shape of your soul. With each thrust. Deliberate. Deep. Ensuring that he will be a part of you, permanently.

“God, ngh Su—fuck..purple..” unintelligible words, incoherent sounds. You’re grasping at rescue from this pleasure.

“Hah..” Suguru’s serrated breaths kiss your lips. “Try again.”

“Suguru, please. I’m cu—I’m pink..pink.”

“Wrong color, princess.” Satoru’s husks above you. Tears of his thick cum streaming steady down his shaft.

Suguru’s bucks into you relentlessly now. Chasing the high you both are riding. Shredding what consciousness you have left. Not that you wanted it, not that you needed it.

“Fuck.”

Suguru’s hips come to a screeching halt. Floating over Shoko’s cushion. Painting your warm walls with his seed. With you filling his lap with your dew. Delirious, choppy intakes of air between your lips and his.

Momentarily forgetting your audience, you instinctively fall into his chest. Every single muscle in your body, suddenly without tone.

Satoru’s mouth is ajar.

Still not completely comprehending the fact that he just came — hands free — watching his best friend rail the conscious mind out of you.

“Blanket, Satoru.” Shoko quietly nudges from her position on the couch.

She can’t blame him for being stunned in place. Her mind is still reeling at the dessert her eyes just feasted on.

“Come here, baby.” Suguru murmurs. Working himself out of you, while Satoru drapes you in Shoko’s throw.

“Thank you.” A tiny chuckle escapes your lips. Cozying into Suguru’s arms. They should be proud of your manners.

And as if you said your cheeky thought out loud, your three lovers break into soft laughter.

“Wait here.” Satoru presses a chaste kiss to your damp forehead. Disappearing into Shoko’s bathroom a moment after.

A small sigh of relief tumbles out of her when she hears the familiar sound of bath water running.

Satoru must’ve done this before. Once or twice.

Suguru, too.

Judging by the way he’s whispering sweet affirmations in your ear. Lulling you to sleep. In his warm, safe embrace.

She’s never seen her friend like this.

“Girls! Bath time!” Satoru beckons from the bathroom.

His voice rustles you out of your post coital daze. Nestling deeper into the crook of Suguru’s neck. Shoko watches the way his eyes rest on your flushed face; stroking his hand along your arm. Intermittently pressing kisses along your hairline.

An enchanting, glass doll they were so eager to shatter just a moment ago.

“Ready, baby?”

Suguru murmurs into your ear. And Shoko just knows he’s hoping for a no. Silently praying for more time with you, pliant in his arms like this.

“Mmhm.” Your puffy lips curl up into a sleepy smile. Glossy-eyed, when you finally pull your heavy lids open.

Suguru’s breath catches in his throat.

Shoko’s heart rattles around its bony cage.

How do you do this?

How do you make it so easy to trip and fall so hopelessly in love with you with a bat of an eyelash?

“…I get it guys, but the water will get cold. And that would be a shame. Because this bath is, perfect.”

Satoru teases from the bedroom doorway. Startling Shoko and Suguru out of the trance you unintentionally put them in.

“You don’t have to carry me!” A half-protest bubbles from your lips when Suguru stands with you wrapped up in Shoko’s favorite blanket.

“Shhh, let me do this sweet girl.” He coos, for your ears only. Navigating around Satoru’s lean stature.

Shoko follows closely behind him, itching for her alone time with you.

“You’re going to let her feet touch the ground, Suguru?!”

Her sarcasm is followed by light-hearted laughter settling around your bodies.

The four of you in tandem like a world class orchestra. Shoko is already lamenting waking up from this dream.

“Not if I can help it.” Suguru sets you down on the kitchen sink. Nudging enough space for his muscular hips between your legs.

He cradles your chin in his hand. Taking as many butterfly kisses as you’ll allow.

“Mmm, goodnight, Suguru.”

His name rolls sweet and soft off of your tongue. Like a dark chocolate truffle, and suddenly Shoko wishes her name was Suguru.

Satoru does too. Judging by the way he yanks his counterpart away from you. His eyes caress your face before his hand does.

“How are you feeling, princess?”

Hushed and saccharine. Doting. As if a decibel too loud is akin to Hollow Purple. Circling his fingers around your thighs.

How foreign.

Shoko can almost taste Satoru’s concern. Attentive in a way that’s inconceivable.

From her vantage point, she watches you ensnare Satoru in those big, helpless doe eyes. Tempting him to fuck the living daylight out of you (again) but also handle you like a butterfly with a broken wing.

“Just a bit worn out, pretty boy.” Said with a dreamy little laugh. And Satoru would chase your voice into the clouds if he could.

He drapes your arms around his neck and you’re putty in his hands.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” He grazes the corner of your lips with his. A dull, insistent ache welling between Shoko’s legs.

You’re irresistible like this.

“Unless you want us to wear you out, again.”

“Satoru!” Your tiny, ineffectual fists slam against Satoru’s pecs. Making the trio even more fond of you.

Their muse.

“Alright boys, I can take it from here.”

Unhurried but finite, Shoko shoos her best friends out of the bathroom. Not before Satoru can steal one last kiss from your swollen lips.

In a matter of minutes Shoko is settled in a sea of warm, eucalyptus bubbles. The light sheen of essential oil grazing her skin, still glimmering with remnants of love-making.

Her eyes ride the dips and swells of your alluring lines.

Balmy skin decorated with lust-drunk imprints from Satoru, Suguru and herself. Hand prints. Tiny crescent moons from fingernails. Ellipses of bite marks. A kaleidoscope of red, blue, deep purple. Living, breathing residue of the desperation — the need — you so easily draw from them.

“Such a pretty girl.”

You flush under Shoko’s praise. Newly stroked desire bubbling in the back of her throat. You’re so full of averted gazes and warmed cheeks. Twiddling your thumbs. Tentatively shifting a few paces away from the bathtub.

So shy, now. It’s adorable.

“Come here, baby.” Shoko curls her fingers inward.

“Okay.” Your response high and thin. Feet moving without resistance.

Obedient little doll.

Shoko’s wet dreams couldn’t even come up with a vision this decadent. You’re an oil painting. Soft on the hands, even softer on the eyes.

You nestle in the warm waters between Shokos legs. Her nipples pebble against your supple flesh. Resting the back of your head on her chest. A lock-in-key fit.

Comfortable, serene quiet sheaths the room around you. And Shoko is soaring.

“I like you like this.” She presses a small kiss against your temple.

“Like what?” You whisper.

Shoko’s hands travel up your navel, cupping your sensitive tits. You arch into her touch. Kitten mewls escape you. So responsive.

“Soft.” Your nipples stiffen between her thumb and index finger.

“Vulnerable…a little broken.” Shoko continues. Catching your needy gaze. Pupils blown to full moons. She hovers her lips over yours. Already parted, hanging open. Ready to receive.

“Shoko.”��

Such a beautiful, pitiful little whine. Tilting your chin up, chasing Shoko’s lips. But she maintains the minimal distance. Instead, kneading your mounds. Drawing a gorgeous melody of whimpers; squirming beneath her ministrations.

“I like being the one to put your pieces back together,” Shoko teases, dropping her tone. And you draw her in like a moth to flame.

Shoko’s lips slot into yours with ease. Puzzle pieces meant to fit. She swipes her tongue over yours. Nibbles along your puffy bottom lip.

You’re delicious.

And panting, when Shoko finally pulls away. Aurora borealis in your eyes. Sparkling. Expansive.

And even though you are putty in her hands right now. Docile and pliant, hanging on every brush of a finger, every kiss. Shoko is falling.

Free falling.

Without a safety stop in sight.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 20 days ago

Text

This Halloween | Yandere SatoSugu

“Hi, gorgeous! Surprised to see me here?”

“Don’t cry, (Y/n). We were never going to kill you.”

The reveal that the small town’s biggest menace was your friends Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. To think that the golden boys of Jujutsu High who were dating two of the victims were hanging off one another in their bloodied costumes. Smiles wider than they’d ever been with their supposed partners, the reality sinking made the bile rise in your throat.

Thinking about your meditation you close your eyes. The smell of partygoers rotting all over the small beach house fills your nose. The sound of the back screen door bumping against the frame as the beach breeze goes in and out with the tide surging outside. The taste of pennies filled your mouth as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. The twitch of your fingers awkwardly hovered in front of your chest as they flexed in and out. On top of your breathing didn’t calm you as much as it usually did.

“(Y/n) did you hear what I said?”

The voice of Suguru somehow made it past the warbled sound of absolute confusion that clouded your brain. The leather glove lightly held your left hand as he slowly came closer to you’re shivering state. Those brown eyes looking so deeply into your own, it felt wrong to look away.

“All you have to do is say we left early.”

You opened your mouth to ask but the growing sound of sirens stopped you. Gojo was the first to let out a curse, giggling about running away. He shook his raven-haired partner who hushed him with an amused smile, turning back to you.

“You can do that for me can’t you Dove?”

The duo left out the back. That screen door screeched as they ran through it; returning to bang against the frame angrily. Its aggressive banging triggered an all-new set of shivers to wrack your body, causing you to fall to the floor. Closing your eyes you try to level yourself again but the sound of your own heartbeat is deafening and the eyes of your best friend pleading with you.

It will haunt you forever.

The sight of Detective Choso brought an uncomfortable pit into your stomach. The man you’d met years ago in another city–your city, with his hair down and his eyes had bags like a masked vigilante.

“He’s out.”

The news didn’t scare you. Not as it should have. Many may find it strange to know you dreamt about serial killers on death row. But it warned you. Prepared you for the day you’d need to run as far as possible from anything you knew. On the anniversary of that day no less.

“What’s the plan?”

The detective pursed his lip and his eyes wandered. His feet, running the flat of his oxfords on the carpet of the entrance to your apartment. The silent scratch of the wool under his shoe irritated you almost as much as his request.

“We wanted to lure him out. Will you—”

He didn’t need to finish before the door was slammed in his face, pushing him back into the apartment hallway. Choso groaned to himself, the situation's futility ebbing at his already short patience. He calmly knocked on the door again.

A muffled, “Go away!”

He sighed, lightly banging his head on the rusted number of the apartment. With his ear so close to the door he could hear the receding footsteps and the mumbled curses directed at him. He looked down the hall making eye contact with the local department’s plant taking out the trash. He didn’t feel completely terrible leaving when there was a guard there, making a note to try again in 24 hours.

“I’ll be back.”

It was meant to be assuring but Choso worried it came off threatening as heard a defiant thump on the opposite side of the door. Resisting the urge to sigh again Choso turned tail, making his way to the elevator. Pulling out his phone he scrolled through his contacts, landing on the name: Idiot surrounded by blue hearts.

Holding the phone at his waist he timed the ringing until he heard said idiot singing out a ‘hello.’ Only then did he bring the phone to his ear and respond.

“The eggs secured and it’s staying in the next. How’s the snake?”

_____________________________________________________________

Gojo Satoru finished his lecture with a grand gesture as though he had finished giving a presentation. When in fact, he’d pressed play on the school’s TV the second his students got in their seats. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d thought to make himself look better for the detective standing just outside the classroom. Even though they both knew it didn’t matter.

“I appreciate you waiting until the kids were outta the classroom. Wouldn’t want to explain to the parents why the police were in their school.”

The white-haired teacher spoke so cheerfully, that his familiarity with the detective might have seemed positive. The detective wasted no time calling their partners in; the stout one stood at the door while the taller one pulled at the blinds of the classroom. With the classroom darkened and the school slowly emptying the head detective decided to speak. Making a dramatic move of pulling a voice recorder out of his pocket he held it up as he asked his question.

“Where were you the night of October 7th?”

Gojo sat on his desk, kicking his feet as he mockingly thought hard. He pretended to put his fingers to his temple as though that would provide answers. The detective associates sneered at the childish display.

“Hm on the night of October let me see–”

The man trailed off as he reached over his desk, pulling a calendar out of a drawer. Flipping through it he animatedly pointed his index at the circled date on the calendar.

Smiling up at the detective Gojo exclaimed, “The anniversary of those horrible murders? Well, I was grieving over the victims by grading my kiddies homework.”

The detective snatched the calendar from him, letting his eyes glaze over the marked paper. Confirming the statement, he tossed the calendar back to him.

“Can anyone confirm this statement?”

Gojo let out a playful whine in annoyance as he dramatically flung back on his desk. The detective and their bodyguards all flinched at the large movement, hands hovering over the fire-arms tucked under their coats and at their belts..

“It’s always evidence with you guys, geez. I have it on the calendar, I never left my house you can ask my neighbors about that.”

“Your neighbors all live three kilometers away from you, That’s not an option.”

“So critical. If I personally broke out some poor inmate on death row do you really think I would have let you just walk into my space like this?”

The question had the detective hovering over their weapon again. Gauging the posture of the white-haired man who was only smirking in their direction with an unsetting nonchalance. The pause that ensued allowed the detectives to reluctantly let their hands drift from their weapons as the sound of multiple chattering students hurriedly approached the empty classroom. The door previously closed swung open to reveal Gojo’s most loyal student–a pink-haired teen leading the charge.

“Teacher! Did you see my post?”

With that smug persisting smirk on his face, Gojo turns his head feigning surprise.

“Unfortunately no. I was too busy talking with these old friends of mine. What’s up?”

“Dude! The police are totally raiding your place!”

The teen turned his phone around to reveal a short video of police and armored vehicles surrounding the luxurious Gojo estate. Plenty of onlookers also recorded the unnatural phenomenon for the typically small town. Granted the amount of paparazzi that constantly come in and out of the town to film anything they can on the Gojo head wasn’t all that rare, but the authorities looking so closely was. And like everything in this town, it was all anyone would talk about for months.

“Well, Detective Mahito am I under arrest?”

The long-haired detective sent a look to his partners and the curious teens absorbing the situation. Coming to a decision he openly hovered his hand over his weapon.

“You are not under arrest but for your safety, you need to come with us.”

Of course, there was a video preceding this of the beloved teacher being escorted into an unmarked vehicle and the students behind the camera being shooed away as it drove off. With all the interested eyes on this case, it almost felt impossible that anything would slip under the radar of millions of curious eyes.

_____________________________________________________________

(Y/n) remembered the way the couple went public with one another. After the tragedy that ensued at the annual Hallow’s Eve party, it was of minor shock that the two golden boys of the high school found solace in one another. Everyone chalked it up to the bonding of trauma after both lost their girlfriends.

“I just found that no one could relate like he can.”

You heard the reasoning in passing, always around the surrounding crowds curious about the latest scoop on the survivors of the Hallow’s Eve tragedy. No doubt some of them will have turned around to tell the outlets interested in the story as well while others would theorize about the identity of the masked killer.

“Maybe it was them!”

“Yeah, what a defense! ‘I don’t talk anymore after what I’ve seen!’ As if!”

The nauseating feeling would eventually go away but the pressure was suffocating then. Haunting your mind with their echoed speculations and the image of your dead friends. What’s worse was the killers so happily parading their sorrowed expressions along the halls. Accepting the gift baskets and surface-level condolences without an ounce of suspicion. The feeling of your hair raising along your skin when one of them mocked their sympathy towards you.

“Don’t be so hard on them, they’ve seen things no one should have to see.”

The constant threat of tears was a reoccurring pain, as you replayed the events of that party. It was never to be soothed by the couple who’d spend their free time pestering you. Often leaving quickly thereafter to repeat their sick game.

“Just keep quiet, Dove. We were here the whole time after all.”

“Yup, and to prove it we’ll take a picture. Don’t tell anyone okay?”

You couldn’t bare listening to them any longer.

______________________________________________________________

Conveniently the press that did have your new contact information weren’t as insistent as before. Quietly asking for a comment on the criminal notoriously associated with Hallow’s Eve murders. After all the rumored victim of the killer was recently detained, surely as the witness that convicted the killer to death row you’d have something to say. You kept quiet. Deleting emails and hanging up phone calls from unidentified numbers, solely focused on getting to your plane on time.

“I’m so sorry but all commercial planes have been grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Like glass breaking at the perfectly angled rock, you started to crack.

“What. Do. You. Mean?”

This poor employee didn’t deserve your wrath but she also wasn’t betting on this plane to save her life. She’d nervously stutter and stumble over her words as she denied every out or once of compensation to make this any better.

“There may be some private planes but those are in incredibly high demand–”

“I’ll go! I don’t care how much just tell me where!”

She seemed reluctant to say but she still told you. Maybe it was because she felt bad, seeing someone so desperate to get away or maybe it was because you were inches from her face. Either way, you were on the tarmac within the hour, along with a few others desperate enough to pay privately. Only to be crestfallen when you arrived at the staircase to enter the plane; letting the other exasperated passengers pass by your still form.

“May I help you with your bags?”

An attendant, with a shining smile and neatly pressed uniform with the plane’s company proudly pressed right above his heart. Greeting you with nothing but an offer to help; you cursed the involuntary reaction to vomit.

“Are all…the private planes available…from this private airline?”

You tried to keep the tremor in your voice to a minimum as you nervously wrung your hands around the handles of your bag.

The attendant—none the wiser—smiled and gestured to the other planes lining up the tarmac with rows of people.

“Yes, they are. Gojo Airlines is offering a discount during these trying times–”

He kept talking but you weren’t listening. Turning around to leave, ignoring the airport security and the attendants who were preparing to let you onto the plane. It meant nothing to you for the beating of your heart and your panicked breathing is all you can hear. When you finally waved down a taxi, you quickly dialed a familiar number.

“He knows.”

______________________________________________________________

Detective Jogo looked nervously at the contact of his partner miles away. Since the week that their missing subject committed the grand massacre, he was infamous for. Because of the nature of the parties involved, he was strictly instructed to not call unless absolutely necessary considering they suspected their phones were compromised.

“You eat yet?”

The question came with a warm bagel and a cup of coffee. Held over his seated form by the burly officer Hanami; coming from the breakroom on the other side of the station. For the first two weeks, it was just following the heir around. But with the inmate scheduled for death row at large and another anniversary coming up, it was decided they’d move the heir into one of their holding cells. Of course, it was lavished with furniture and decorations all chosen by the illustrious Gojo Satoru. He did whine when they demanded to inspect and bug his phone and laptop but the station was taking no chances when it came to this specific case.

The rumors were enough too.

“Have you checked on him within the last few hours?”

Hanami tilted her head looking at the one-way glass of the blue-eyed witness pacing casually in the fortified room. From the glimpses that Jogo got from his chair across the room, their witness was unusually chipper. The days they spent guarding him throughout the day were incredibly boring; temporarily leaving his job as a teacher to gallivant around a hotel of his choosing didn’t make it better. Throughout those weeks Gojo had subjected the team to an aggravating amount of chatter—none of it helpful or even worth repeating. Detective Mahito was plenty great at keeping up but Jogo and Hanami opted for alternating earplugs. Even with the earplugs in he could pick out the strong hints of annoyance bubbling underneath his wide smile and piercing gaze.

The change unnerved him. Especially with the rumors circulating around this specific witness.

“Didn’t want to besides I’m watching from the camera.”

Blunt and unforgiving Jogo wouldn’t expect anything more from the officer. It didn’t put him at ease.

“Where’s Mahito? Still investigating that place?”

If it was possible Hanami’s apathetic expression tightened, her brows knitting at the thought.

“Yes. Last he called all the evidence had been scrubbed and all we can hope now is that they forgot something we could use.”

Jogo sucked his teeth in shared annoyance. The rumor he was dreading was more like an undisclosed fact. The true masterminds behind the Halloween Massacre were both Gojo Satoru and the death row inmate Suguru Geto. The files say the Gojo family lawyer fought hard for the heir; effectively blaming it all on Suguru Geto. With prints, hair, witness testimony, and photographic evidence all on the heir they were able to plead for coercion by malicious manipulation. Getting their heir off and painting his partner in crime to be a greater threat than he. The whole fiasco of the jewel of the Gojo clan being involved made the whole case a living nightmare, that their superior Choso Kamo rose to fame with. By finally encouraging the only witness with viable evidence to testify Suguru Geto was sentenced to death row. And through expert lawyers mysteriously hired, he remained waiting for years.

Choso, before he left to guard the witness, believed it wasn’t just an escape attempt but a chance for the killers to tie everything up. Destroy the evidence, stop the search for the death row inmate, exact revenge on all who participated in the case, and reunite with their loved ones by the end of Halloween.

Of course, it was their best detective leaving to protect the witness who was in the most danger. Leaving his underlings—Mahito and Jogo to keep them on the pulse of the case and their eyes on the man believed to get off scot-free.

If it weren’t for him knowing Choso cared so much for this specific witness; he would have thought he was leaving them the rough side of this mission. He knew the hardened detective could be a compassionate man–a hard thing to retain in this line of work.

Jogo huffed taking a sip of his coffee,” I hope he’s having a better time than we.”

Hanami made a grunt of agreement before returning to the hall to stare at the monitors she had been for the past couple of days. He would have offered to switch if he didn’t think he thought this pit in his stomach could be resolved.

The 40-year-old detective stood from his seat. Careful to nurse the leg he’d fractured from two cases ago. He took his uneaten bagel, noting it retained some of its heat. He headed to the holding cell. Sending a look to the guard at his station, a buzzer rang and the door unlocked. With the final swipe of his keycard, he let himself into the semi-messy room. The culprit was sitting on his bed, a smile still on his smug little face.

“Hungry?”

Those cerulean eyes weren’t on him the second he came in, instead looking at the clock left graciously in the upper corner of the room. Nor did they flicker when Jogo asked his question. The disrespect made the Detective’s eyebrows twitch as he kept his hand holding the bagel.

“I’m not going to eat your leftovers, old man.”

“Not good enough for you!? Not up to your snobby standards,” was what Jogo wanted to say but he didn’t need to get kicked off this case for suspected bias. It didn’t help that the man still wasn’t looking at him, laughing to himself as though Jogo told the funniest joke.

“Have you eaten anything today?”

Jogo was trying. He really was.

“Nope, but I’ll eat later today.”

Jogo loosened up,” Have any idea what you want?”

The Gojo heir’s smile didn’t compare to the smirk he had on before. His smile practically reached his ears and those haunting eyes staring right through Jogo, “All of your livers.”

“What?!”

The suspect wasn’t speaking anymore and Jogo’s phone was ringing.

Jogo had a decision to make. Answer the call or make sure he just heard what he did.

“You should answer that. He might never call again.”

Despite his better judgment, Jogo pulls out his phone, seeing the name of his fellow detective and the goofy photo they took on his phone. Another look at the white-haired man and he answered the call. Immediately his ears were assaulted with the sounds of wood crackling; the unnatural sound made his mind piece together what was happening.

“I-it’s a trap!” the tearful voice of Mahito rings the loudest. Jogo almost doesn’t want to speak as if that would make what he heard go away. “G-get out–”

The sound of something large falling and the frantic screaming from either the detective or some other poor soul being abruptly cut off. Punctuated by the phone call ending.

Jogo couldn’t take it anymore throwing his phone aside to reel his fist back to punch the chuckling man in the face. Prepared to fight against the guards that would be arriving any second he aimed with urgency. He was certain he’d have time to get in one. One good hit to the face of the man responsible for the chance that his partner might be dead.

“Did you really think I’d just let that happen? That’s cute.”

Jogo’s fist was easily captured by Gojo’s hand, a careless gesture strong enough to keep the shaking fist static and far from its intended target. Unnerved by that restraint the detective launched his other fist only for it to receive the same treatment. Pushing with all his might Jogo–in the split seconds of any fight—found himself at an impasse. Figuring if both his fists were being thwarted he’d go to the next best thing–his legs. Cursing the ache he’d have later he aimed to kick the heir in the gut.

“But not that cute.”

The quip was a warning barely processed as Gojo caught the man off-guard, releasing his fists to latch onto the outstretched leg. Gripping the ankle of the old man swung the body of the detective into the one-way glass. It crackled under his weight bursting with shards of glass as the stout man rolled past the curious guard’s post.

Jogo didn’t feel like he could get up but he did watching the blue-eyed man let himself out of the holding cell, a stolen I.D. being twirled in his hands. He didn’t need the guard to let him out, outright kicking the metal door until it flew off its hinges. Of course, the guards in the room moved with a taser and baton in hand.

“You guys are so dramatic! How about you go out begging then maybe I won’t make you suffer.”

The guards didn’t bother responding to the one with the baton going first. Swinging from above any normal man could barely manage to dodge but Gojo was by no means normal. He easily sidestepped the baton using the downward stroke of the officer to grab at his neck. At speeds, Jogo couldn’t comprehend the officer’s head was facing the opposite direction. Even worse they weren’t dead their eyes darting around as they tried to scream—making a gargled plea instead. The one with the taser barely had time to fire, missing the dodging assailant who easily grabbed the coils beaming with electricity to pull the gun from the guard's shaking hands. Defeated with a hand slicing toward their exposed neck also making the man gurgle as he fell to the floor.

“Now what was it we were talking about?”

The question was directed to Jogo and the pain paralyzed him to the floor. Helplessly watching as Gojo slowly walked closer. The old man’s eyes darted nervously around searching for anything to use. His thoughts raged with an all-manner of possibilities running through his mind there was one tool bound to stop the incredibly durable heir. His gun. Jogo took great care to not let this realization be made. Planning to only reveal this when he needed which would be soon, judging by the way Gojo was cracking his knuckles.

“About how this was all planned by you?”

Jogo was stalling but it didn’t seem Gojo was listening. The heir tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he looked annoyed at the aching detective.

“Are you done because otherwise, I’m just going to end–”

In a large flash of blue, the heir stood back just barely dodging the hurling form of Hanami. Using her natural height against him she aimed a violent punch into the ground, cracking the concrete the heir was standing over just a moment before sidestepping. Jogo felt his heart lift, who greater to fight alongside than Hanami—the human tank with punches as strong as steel. Surely now they had a chance.

Jogo pulled out his gun aiming at the dodging heir. Waiting for just the right moment to pull the trigger and finally end the menace that got to run free.

“This really was fun but I’m tired of this place.” The declaration sounded petulant like a child,” and I’m tired of you.”

Almost in annunciation a pale hand shot through the chest of Officer Hanami–the human tank stopping her assault to look down at the hand pulling out of her. Before Gojo’s bloodied hand could leave a spray of her blood dousing her face and eyes. Fear-filled eyes watched his partner struggle as a waterfall of viscous carnage poured out of her baffled mouth.

Through the tears growing in his eyes, Jogo fired his gun.

Over a year spent in the police academy and being a rookie in the small town. To a supervisor to a junior detective who humbled himself to learn the young genius detective. More than certain his aim was true, he collapsed into himself. The weight of both his partners, his friends dead when just hours ago they were as lively as ever.

Thankful that the beast responsible was gone.

“Glad you came I was just about ready to clean up myself.”

The monster he thought he’d defeated was standing above him casually calling out to another down the hall. Whoever this was holding a disembodied arm and was casually walking in the halls surrounded by bloody remains of the investigative team.

As frightening as it was to revel in the new threat having gotten past security and was brutal enough to be carrying the limbs of his coworkers. But it didn’t take away from the horror of realizing his gun never did go off. Instead, his gun was squished with the bloodied hands of Gojo Satrou, who sent one last disgusted look in his direction before dropping the disfigured gun in his lap.

“I told you, I had it under control.”

“Whatever you say ‘kuna.”

“Don’t call me that. Now go on get to your ‘date.’”

If Gojo had taken the talons he called fingers and torn out Jogo’s heart it would have been better than recognizing the pink-haired, tattooed man, covered in blood. To think he’d have the privilege to die near the detective-turned-mercenary Ryomen Sukuna. Face ashen and succumbing to his fate, he wistfully watches the white-haired man skip over the carnage of the force. Without so much of a glance, the Gojo Satoru had taken everything from him in a matter of minutes.

The only thing he did have left was doomed to be gone soon.

“You ready to fight to your death?”

An idol asking a question worthy of someone who wasn’t likely paralyzed by merely being thrown through a window and failing to shoot the man responsible for the destruction of an effort to maintain justice no matter who the suspect is. There was only one thing he could say as Sukuna awaited his answer.

“Yes. More than ready.”

______________________________________________________________

Today was the day you’d broken your silence all those years ago. Once again traveling with the detective to the far reaches of a rural town far away within the safe confines of a car. It didn’t soothe you in the slightest. From the airport incident, the unnerving shiftiness within your stomach hadn’t settled not like it did when Suguru was finally shipped off to prison and not like when Gojo was sent to a foreign exchange school. It wasn’t over.

“How are you doing?”

The question was worthless but you hadn’t said anything since Choso dignified the plan. A lot was unspoken between you but talking was still necessary.

“Like throwing up. How’s your brother?”

The immediate question was not just a deflection, it was the easiest way to distract the detective. Choso was a proud older brother who at any topic that reminded him of his little brother ensued in long rambles about said brother. It’s a perfect soundtrack to drown your thoughts and avoid playing therapist with the detective you’re effectively running away with.

“Since you asked—”

Seeing the tired straight-faced detective finally begin to smile as he proceeded to rant. It’s a nice change to the gloom you both permeate. You figured you’d help stave it off for a while with some light chatter.

“---and his little friends all look up to him like the natural-born leader he is!”

“He’s in high school now right?”

“He is. He’s actually….” Choso trails off as his smile falls,” he’s actually going to Jujutsu High.”

The name of the familiar school renews the tense atmosphere and with terrifying speed, the synapses of your brain begin to fire off. Suddenly you can guess why Choso insisted the plant stay behind or how he refused the undercover police escort. Or why instead of awkwardly attempting to cheer you up he keeps his tired eyes on the road ahead.

“So the safe house was a lie.”

Choso visibly grimaced, “Not entirely. I wouldn’t give you to them if I wasn’t sure you’d be safe.”

“Them!?”

He dared to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I know what they’re after and they’re not going to hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, “You trusted the serial killers who promised they weren’t going to hurt me?! Gee, what a smart detective you are, let’s blindly trust the guys who have a death wish for me!”

Choso had the nerve to look offended at that. You didn’t bother holding back your glare, anxious to hear the reasoning behind this betrayal. His hands tightening against the wheel told you there was some turmoil—as if that would resolve the bubbling fury that had you debating about taking the wheel and driving you both off the road.

“My partners went back to the place, searching for evidence.” He spared a look towards you as if confirming you’d shrink in on yourself at the mention of that Halloween Night. “It was rigged to explode after they found some evidence. My other partners that were meant to guard him….”

His tired eyes were blinking in a futile effort to hold back tears. Thankfully he had the decent to pull over before clasping his hands over his tired face. With only the light sniveling filling the car, you were forced to remember that night. The fire. The blood. It was all too much. You reached for the handle of the door, pulling at it to get into the open fields Choso pulled in. Only to find the door would not give.

“(Y/n), their funerals will be closed caskets and the cause of death will be chalked to some accident that explains the state of the bodies.”

He was trying to look at you, to get you to look at him. The droplets clouding your vision and the frantic breathing you were trying to regulate weren’t helping. Recognizing your struggling he grasped your hands, holding them the way he did when you first fought to retell the tale that imprisoned one of the most infamous killers to exist. Rubbing his rough thumbs over your knuckles in comforting circles encouraging you to slowly inhale and exhale.

“They did that to the ones they wanted dead for years. They told me, the last thing they wanted to do was harm a hair on your head.”

The tears were running as Choso pulled you into a hug, listening to you blubber about it being a lie.

“I think if they wanted you dead they would have done so by now.”

His assessment was crude but the truth. Deep down underneath the fear and noxious feeling of encountering those two again, there was still disbelief. A part of you that always denied that the friends you’d seen reveal themselves to you would ever think about reducing you to one of their many victims. Perhaps for your sanity, you’ll have to trust in the friends you know. The friends that confided in such a secret all that time ago.

“So your brother…anyone else?”

He knew what you meant and as he lit a cigarette; he answered with a puff.

“The whole town. Practically wiped out the entire workforce with the stunt they pulled.”

He inhaled with a wince, taking in another painful huff. He hated smoking.

“If they did do anything the whole town would be completely at their mercy…”

Reaching into his coat pocket, you pulled out a cigarette for yourself swiping his lighter to enjoy your cancer stick. Both of you fill the inside of the car with your despair, smoking your anxieties into something smaller. Hopefully weaker.

“Well if it’s for your brother and the whole town then I guess it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

Both of you joylessly laughed, taking long pained drags of the sticks—all the while licking at the tears that escaped your blinking eyes. A couple more puffs of smoke were had before Choso pulled back onto the road.

For whatever reason things were lighter as if that would take away to the possibly dangerous future you’d be subjected to.

“When you can, you should take Itadori to see the city. That’ll really change his life.”

“Any places you recommend?”

“Do you want a list?”

It was nice to fill the space with something positive—a rare activity you two partook in after the court case. It was nice to do it one last time.

The drive wasn’t much longer, eventually pulling up to a small neatly painted house with no car in sight, if it weren’t for Choso’s intel you’d have been none the wiser.

As he put the car in park, he looked at you. As sincerely as he’s always done despite visible tiredness in his face. His arm wrapped around yours with a hesitant hand.

“If you really don’t want to do this you don’t have to. You can punch me and we can say you ran off into those cornfields we passed by earlier.”

Mustering a smile as you leaned your head against his chest, “I’ll be fine Choso. Say ‘hi’ to Yuji for me.”

He helped you get your bags, knocking in a specific tune on the door. The door opened and an old woman revealed herself, welcoming you with a warm smile inviting you both inside. You looked to Choso in confusion as you followed closely behind leading you to a parlour filled with hideously dated and flowery decor. She insisted you sit, promising to fix some lemonade for you both.

“Oh, young man can I have your help with this? I’d get it myself if it weren’t so high.”

Choso hurriedly followed after her, sending a look for you to sit and relax.

This felt weird throwing off your expectations for your meeting with the murderous duo. Managing the burden of a fate to come you allowed your hands and eyes to wander. Letting your eyes glaze over with thoughts of how old the intricate wooden end stand is. Playing with the frayed edges of the quilt decoratively draped over the couch. It kept you distracted long enough, finally breaking out when you saw the long and pale hands coming to wrap around your chest. In a perfect world, it would have been Choso being oddly affectionate but these fingers were longer than his, sculpted to the very knuckle to become a living weapon. Accompanied by an inhale against the top of your head the owner of these hands pulled you further against the back of the couch; further pulling you into the warm soft and sturdy chest of a man you’d feared. A curtain of silky black hair much longer than you remembered dropped just past your shoulders, daring you to look up at its owner who refused you the luxury of space as the shadow-colored eyes stared deeply into yours.

“Hello, Dove. You look radiant as ever.”

Velvety as the day he testified and was sentenced was Suguru Geto. Older but just as handsome as the day you met; exuding the air of gentleness that made anyone feel at ease. That is until he didn’t need to. Those hands long and spindly trailed from your chest and on to your neck tracing your collarbone through your clothes. Finally resting on the middle of your neck, index fingers toying with the organ underneath your skin.

“Hum for me Dove.”

It was just like old times, unwilling to speak and yet plagued by the demand into those dark eyes to give something. So you hummed broken and uneven, in your ears it was hardly the symphony he claimed it was. But it didn’t really matter what you thought now.

“That’s my Dove.”

He annunciated proudly moving his hands to hold your face up, keeping you in place as he softly explored your mouth. Nibbles were soft but urgent as though there was a timer for this reacquaintance unlocking the memories of this exact kiss.

Under the stairwell after a big game, the first after the reveal. Satoru was insistent you come, unable to goad a word out of you, he had you hum. A promise to come to their game and cheer them on. As per usual they won, despite suffering from so many late players the team relied on their surviving all-star players. Unsurprisingly Satoru was majorly credited with their win, allowing Suguru to pick you out from the cheering crowd leading you under the stairwell.

“Aren’t you proud of me, Dove? Show me how proud of me you are.”

The kiss was just like this, still soft but needy. Hands methodically wandering to allow for an opening; some easier access to melt his body into yours in the minutes he had before the others came. It was just like this.

“Aw gorgeous, you missed us?”

Playful as always and hands eagerly running under the hem of your shirt to rub thumbs along the soft expanse of your skin. Pecks in between the hands creeping higher all the while Sugure tightens his grip on your jaw a warning not to forget him. Not ever again.

When Suguru does pull away it’s to suck at your neck, holding you by your shoulders as you’re hands wiggle with uncertainty. Even subconsciously you hesitate to have your hands reciprocate while the two assaulted you with kisses that were getting rougher by the minute. Satoru ignored Suguru when he climbed up higher to meet your lips; and worked to intertwine his fingers with yours. With another attempt, he roughly pulled at Suguru’s lips with his teeth demanding they share a deep kiss of their own before returning to you.

“Oh Gorgeous we’ve been waiting to do this since forever.”

Two more final pecks from each of them, allowed you to breathe leaving you limp and pliable for the especially touchy Gojo Satoru who slotted you into his lap as he settled onto the older couch. Suguru sat closely his arm reaching over the top of the couch to let his hand rub at your neck once again.

“Missed you at the airport.”

The pit in your stomach returned at the loaded judgment and came with a pinch into your side. Under Suguru’s scrutinizing gaze and the feeling of Satoru’s eyes from behind you, had you hoping to defend yourself.

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

You said it with attempted laughter, begging for the laughter of the killers you’ve feared for years–all to confirm that still wasn’t the plan.

Suguru in his forever-contained demeanor sent you a smile with half-lidded eyes. The most unclear answer to the anxiety that hadn’t rested even with the butterflies of kissing these two again. The vibration of a laugh from behind wasn’t an answer either and neither were the muscular arms circling you.

Suguru released your neck, and brought his hand to hold up his head,” So you and the detective. Did you get together, after I left?”

The growl behind his smile reminded you of why it took so much courage to speak out. Something you bore witness to since the couple decided to reveal themselves to you. Not only for the fear of ending up like their victims but for the entirely personal punishment only Suguru in all his infinite fury could conjure.

“No! I’ve been single this whole time.”

That got you a squeal from Satoru who lightly squeezed you tightly into him giving light pecks to your neck. Not stopping anytime soon you turned your attention back to Suguru, who still didn’t look pleased.

“Hm, I’m not convinced.”

The nonchalant claim made you feel like crying again. You remember this conversation when it came to an old friend. Even when you pleaded, silently albeit he’d scoff and smile at you while he remained ‘unconvinced’. Kissing your forehead before leaving to claim another victim for the masked killer.

“He brought you to me …he-he convinced me to talk.”

That wasn’t true. It was you. Through a month of self-care and therapy, you were able to muster the ability to speak again. Choso was great support but it was you who did it. You who gained the courage to move away and restart your life away from the memories of your serial killer boyfriends. Speaking of, you whimper at the sting of pain along your neck.

Straining your gaze to look at the man whose admiring the mark on your neck. Despite the loving caressing of his hand along your neck, the glare of Satoru Gojo was just as frightening as the killer sitting across from you.

“I don’t know I think that’s all the more reason!”

You couldn’t restrain yourself from silently pleading with Suguru looking deeper into the house where Choso disappeared with the older woman. Suguru sent a hand through his unrestrained hair as he sighed.

“I’m not pleased with you (Y/n). Telling on us like you did someone’s got to pay.”

You could hear Gojo smirk behind you.

“So what do you say, babe round 3 of our favorite Halloween Night?”

Suguru released his locks as he mockingly stuck his nose to the sky,“I’ll think about it.”

Suddenly the rickety old house shook from a plane overhead; thinking nothing of it you expectantly looked at Suguru who seemed to be debating. Only for him to abruptly stand and make his way to the door. Satoru hopped up with you in tandem refusing to let you walk on your own without him clinging onto you.

They both made their way to the back porch where the very plane you’d refused to ride a day ago was releasing its stairs. With the steps fully extended Satoru tugged you along as Suguru began to ascend. With the question of Choso’s life still hanging in the balance you dug your feet into the ground pointing at the house which Satoru barely acknowledged until you’ve turned yourself in his direction.

“Wait! My bags! Choso has my bags!”

That had Suguru coming down the steps faster than you could turn; feeling that familiar grip on your jaw as he forced your gaze on him.

“You don’t get to choose if we bring that with you. I didn’t get to choose what I got to bring when you sent me to that cell. ”

You held your gaze as you stood your ground, “Not him. Be mad at me! Not him.”

For a moment those black depths flashed with something violent; a glimpse of what hundreds had seen in their last moments.

It wasn’t for you but how could you know that?

Suguru sighed lessening his grip on your jaw, using both his hands to hold your face. Running his thumbs along the creases of your face as if he had to remember the texture of your skin against his own. Since his reunion with Gojo, he fought tears, pulling you into a hug. One you returned on instinct, somehow even with the blood splattered on his face with the mask of a serial killer hanging on his head he was still your friend. As Gojo closed in from behind you you reminded that you felt the same for him; more than certain that you’d be rendered the same helpless witness to the deaths of so many friends. It would always end this way.

with them at the end of the blade, with the power they’d always have.

Satoru settled a hand on your waist and his other on Suguru’s face, his smile as warm and welcoming as the day you first met.

“Come on you two. Let’s spend this Halloween together. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

Finally entering the plane a part of you felt like you lost. That you succumbed to the imbalanced rulers of the system. But the largest part of you knew since you’d gotten involved with these two, you’d been given the footprint of a giant and it really would be better for everyone if you let them win especially this once.

At least with certainty, you can say this Halloween no one else is dying because of you.

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satoruxx · 10 months ago

Text

pairing: poly!sashisu x f!reader | 2k words summary: mentions of injuries, sashisu fluff, tiny bit of angst, pet names, shoko is literally wife, suguru is super touchy lol, satoru's a menace but he loves you, protective sashisu, extra protective satoru, shoko and satoru bicker for like half of this lol rheya’s note: offers you more of these three and runs away (sorry guys they literally won't leave my mind i swear they'd treat you so good)

one look at shoko’s frowning face and you’re already nervous, squirming in place as she leans in close to inspect your body. you have to take a deep breath—because while normally her close proximity makes you flush and stumble over words, this time you are anxiously silent.

because you can tell that she is anything but pleased. her eyes are narrow as they take in the wound on your stomach, lips pursed like she’s holding back a scolding.

which you know, you definitely deserve.

she scoots her stool closer to the examination table you’re sitting on, fingers coming up to undo the makeshift bandage you had tied around your torso in the midst of the mission.

you try to hold back your wince as she pulls away the fabric that sticks to your blood, but she catches it. she’s always been overly observant.

you shake your head at her when her gaze flickers up to assess your pain levels. “i’m fine.” you don’t mean for your voice to come out so hurried.

“looks like it.” her voice lacks the usual warmth, normally so sweet as she teases and dotes on you like you’re the only thing in her world. but this, this disappointment that she’s not good at hiding, has something in your chest tugging.

you think you might go crazy if she doesn’t smile at you in the next few minutes.

“oh c’mon,” you shrug, laughing carelessly because it’s not that bad. “it’s fine. besides i have a great doctor. i knew i’d be okay.”

shoko takes a deep breath, honey brown eyes boring into yours when she looks up again. “listen to me—” there is something odd about the way she’s speaking that has you sitting up a little straighter. “this is the one thing i hate doing for you.”

your mouth clamps shut, any trace of a smile gone.

“hell babe, i’d do anything for you,” she sighs, leaning closer to your face—so close you can see her dark lashes brush her cheeks when she blinks. “but i hate hearing that i have to come down here and heal you.”

the intensity of her gaze has you chewing on your lip again, an action that her eyes follow. but she doesn’t say anything else, leaning back to continue her work—though there is a freer air about her, like a pressure has been released.

you don’t say anything either, too focused on her and her pretty eyes and her warm hands and the way she loves you.

you hear the sliding door to the infirmary open, and immediately feel a familiar overwhelming presence worming its way into the room.

“you serious?” satoru’s voice goes high at the end of the question—barely concealed panic. “what the fuck happened?”

you hold back a grimace knowing that his focus is only trained on your wound. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you offer weakly, but satoru is already in front of you, brows drawn tight in anger and something else.

“like hell,” he hisses, eyes darting between your face and body. “you almost died!”

“stop yelling at her.” suguru’s voice comes out exasperated as he enters, shooting satoru a weak glare—but you know him well enough to catch that he isn’t happy about this either. he takes a few steps until he’s directly in front of you, crouching next to shoko’s stool so that he’s in your line of sight. lavender eyes take you in, and you can see the the relief that seeps into them.

his palm comes up to gently hold your cheek. “okay baby?”

you’re nodding before he even finishes, doing your best to reassure because if there’s anything you hate it’s making him worry.

making them all worry.

suguru’s hand remains attached to your skin even as he turns to look at shoko. “how bad is it?”

shoko doesn’t look away, focusing on her hands as she sighs. ”it was deep. definitely could’ve been bad but…she’ll be fine.”

her eyes flicker up to yours, and you bite your lip nervously. you hear suguru inhale, fingers twitching against your cheek.

it is satoru who breaks the silence.

“what were you thinking?” he asks, low as he grits his teeth. there is a wild look in his eyes, cerulean glazed over with something you can’t quite place. the tone of his voice has shoko and suguru sharing a look, one that you don’t have the time to decipher because you’re too focused on the way satoru is clenching his fists.

your shoulders drop. “you’re mad.” it’s a statement, not a question, and you see the sharp look suguru sends satoru’s way.

“i’m not—” satoru inhales abruptly, interrupting his own words. “just—”

he stops speaking.

“he wants you to be more careful,” shoko fills the silence, still staring at your abdomen. “you can’t be careless like this.”

there’s a dip in her brows, one that matches the downward tilt of her lips. she doesn’t look at you, and you think you can feel the slight tremor of her hands as they press against your skin.

her expression has you unable to look away, feeling oh so cared for and protected under the warmth of her healing.

so you nod mutely, and almost cry in relief when you see the twitch of her lips as she finishes healing you. suguru chuckles under his breath, his empty hand lacing through your fingers and squeezing—a message that only you understand. “good,” he sighs, tilting his head fondly. “take care of yourself—at least for our sake, yeah sweetheart?”

shoko throws satoru a look even as he crosses his arms and glares at the wall, refusing to look at you. “that goes for you too, dummy!”

satoru’s head whips around to throw her an appalled glare. “i’m plenty careful!”

shoko wordlessly reaches out and tugs up his shirt, where you can see the faint remnants of a fresh battle scar. “didn’t i heal this for you not two days ago?” she rolls her eyes. “and the fact that you can heal it yourself is even worse.”

satoru pulls his shirt down and shoots her a glare that’s half a pout. “well maybe i wouldn’t be so bad at it if you were a better teacher!”

“like i’d spend my free time teaching you.”

“did you just wake up mean one day or were you born this way?”

“idiot. i told you—it’s fwoo, then hyoi!”

“what the hell does that mean, sho?!”

you watch the two bicker with a smile, and suguru looks down at you with a mirrored expression. “scared us a little there, baby.” he lowers his voice, palm sliding through your hair as he pushes a few strands back.

“didn’t mean to,” you grimace, leaning into his touch. “but it seriously wasn’t that bad.”

“i know,” he answers, eyes heavy with affection and fatigue and all the depth in the world. “we weren’t expecting it is all. we came back and nanami let us know what happened. satoru threw a fit y’know?”

you wince internally, knowing that it probably wasn’t very pleasant. “he did?”

“he’s an idiot but you should know he’s crazy about you, sweetheart.” suguru smothers an amused huff. “he stopped hearing anything after they said you were hurt.”

you don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because suguru’s smile widens like he understands. he always does.

“didn’t mean to make him worry,” you mumble, watching as shoko lazily punches at satoru’s gut, to which he dramatically groans even though he’s the one who had his infinity down for her.

“i know,” suguru grins, fingers brushing over your shoulder almost carefully. “he does too.”

you suppress a smile, feeling oddly grateful as you watch satoru whine and complain when shoko shoots sarcastic remarks at him.

something about all of this that makes you feel so blissfully comfortable.

“okay alright guys,” suguru finally sighs, shaking his head. there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice even as he shoots them an exasperated glare. “give it a rest.”

“she started it!” satoru says—indignant.

shoko huffs, rolling her eyes. “whatever.”

she turns back to you, gently cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip. “feeling okay, babe?”

“yeah,” you nod, feeling your skin warm under her touch. “feels a lot better.”

she stands up with a soft smile. “good. then you’re free to go.”

suguru exhales, his smile becoming a little more eased as he pushes your hair away from your neck. “that’s good. let’s go home then, yeah?”

you nod, starting to pull your shirt and uniform jacket back on. suguru steps away to give you room, standing next to shoko who nudges his shoulder affectionately.

“you know, i bet you do things recklessly just so that shoko can heal you,” suguru says to you—a teasing glint in his eyes.

you look up and grin, dramatically covering your mouth. “don’t expose me like that! i’ve been getting her attention like this for years!”

suguru laughs even as shoko shakes her head in amusement. “silly girl. you’re crazy.”

“you can’t blame me,” you shrug playfully, buttoning up your shirt. “it’s your fault for being such a good doctor.”

suguru squeezes shoko’s fingers in agreement, no doubt still lingering with the warmth of her technique. she laughs to herself, rolling her eyes fondly as she watches you finish getting dressed. “you should take a nice bath, babe.” she grins at you. “i can help you if the injury’s still a little sore.”

you nod and suguru smiles, slinging an arm around shoko’s shoulders. “good. then we’ll go back to the dorm and get it ready, yeah?”

you smile at them gratefully, no words needed, and they return the expression before heading out.

the echoing of the door sliding shut pierces the silence between you and the strongest. satoru is staring at the tiled floor like he’s about to kill it, shoulders drawn tight with tension.

you sigh, looking up at him almost meekly—so unlike your usual interactions. “you still angry at me, toru?”

you see the effort with which he exhales, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes just barely concealed by dark frames. he turns to take two full steps towards you, until he towers over your sitting form—and while most people would find it intimidating, you have always found satoru’s overwhelming presence to be a comfort.

his fingers reach up to push a strand of your hair away, deliberately tucking it behind your ear before his hand rests against your jaw. “‘course not,” he answers, voice low. his thumb traces over your jawline. “just panicked.”

“sorry.” you turn to press your lips against his palm, and you see his features soften.

he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your temple, an uncharacteristic softness that only you are privy to see. “‘s okay.”

“but you know i can take care of myself, right?” you ask him, almost imploringly because you have never wanted to look weak in front of someone who is so strong. satoru grins, eyes glinting with what almost seems like pride as he ruffles your hair.

“duh,” he laughs, taking your hands to pull you off the examination table. once you’re standing he slings an arm around your shoulders and presses his nose to your temple. “i’d be stupid not to. you’re crazy strong, y’know?”

you try to hide your pleased smile, even though you know that being acknowledged by him—by all three of them—will forever be what keeps you going.

“well at least you know,” you grin, and satoru rolls his eyes, fingers coming up to poke at your side.

“don’t get cocky.”

“look who’s talking!” you retort and he shakes his head, amused. satoru’s grip tightens imperceptibly, and you think yours does too, something telling you that you’ll never be able to let him go.

“c’mon sweets, let’s go get you that bath now, yeah? sho and suguru are probably waiting.”

you hum, a gentle smile tugging at your lips when you hear his words. you wrap your arm around his waist, leaning into him as he walks you back to the dorm—walks you home.

because that’s what the three of them are to you—home.

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prettiedup · 7 months ago

Note

MORE GOJO SMUT PLS

gave a 2for1 special hehe <3

“mhm, baby suck your dick.” satoru moans. he’s manspreading on the couch, his toned thighs tightening every time you push your head down too far and your throat squeezes around his cockhead, or when your hand that’s decorated with thick saliva and precum fondles with his heavy balls.

satoru’s eyes trail over to suguru who’s already looking at him. suguru’s mouth is agape but sounds are struggling to come out. your pussy is squeezing around his thick cock so deliciously. with every thrust inside your wetness, he feels himself becoming more and more addicted to you. suguru grips your hips even tighter, drilling your pussy faster.

you feel so full from them two. satoru with his long cock filling your throat juuussstt right, and suguru with his cock stretching your pussy in ways that make you see stars. you can't think about anything other than how good you feel at this very moment. your body is littered with marks and spit. you're so dirty, and that fact turns you on even more. your pussy is leaking so much that you're on the borderline from embarrassment. such a needy girl that you needed two cocks to sedate you.

"g'na cum all in this pussy." suguru slurs; pussy-drunk.

you whine out, your clit pulsating from the promise of being filled. satoru groans himself, your cute little whines sending vibrations around his cock. he looks down at you, only to find your eyes squeezed shut. you look to be in absolute bliss.

"slutty girl gettin' all turned on from fuckin' two guys." satoru comments. just seeing you be all submissive makes him want to be mean to you. he reaches for the tip of your nose and squeezes, halting your breathing.

you immediately tense up, suguru lets out a broken moan from the unexpected grip around his cock. he pauses his pounding to take deep breaths, his balls ache to be released and he was on the edge of giving into the urge to cum now. you hum as continue to bob your head up and down while taking it upon yourself to smack your hips against suguru's. satoru decides to let up on your nose seconds later. you pull his cock from your mouth and lay your head on his inner thigh. drool messily leaks from your mouth, coating his skin.

"gimme kiss." you think satoru is talking to you until you suddenly hear lips smacking against each other. your eyes widen and you tilt your head up only to see their lips connected. they're moaning into each others mouths, satoru runs his fingers through suguru's hair while he tilts his head.

the scene is so sexy and the throbbing inbetween your thighs increases. you guess suguru could feel it because he starts thrusting slowly into you again. satoru grips your hair with a hand, guiding your head back to his cock. the sound of your moans and suguru's balls slapping against your skin overpower the sound of the guys kissing.

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lunarpeonie · 1 year ago

Text

life with poly!geto and gojo

poly!geto and gojo argue about which side of the bed they sleep on, always with you in the middle. neither of them ever wants to sleep on the side closest to the bedroom door. satoru complains that it’s because he can feel the draft and suguru wants to be able to see the door if an intruder somehow sneaks in (unlikely).

poly!geto and gojo who like to do home improvement projects within your apartment while you’re away at work, but always make more of a mess than what they started with.

one day you came home to your two lovers in the living room, satoru standing on a ladder and suguru supervising from the floor. satoru was fiddling with the white metal air conditioning vent that was now hanging loosely from the ceiling. (not how it was when you left for work in the morning)

“what are you doing?” you can’t help the words that spill from your mouth, worried that this is going to be another expensive call to the handyman.

“weeeeeell,” satoru starts, “the vent looked a little crooked so suguru and I decided (a subtle protest came from the floor “no satoru decided”) to try and straighten it out, but I accidentally ripped it out of the wall” he says this with a bashful smile with a faint blush on his cheeks.

a sigh mixed with a laugh filters through your lips as you look at suguru. his eyes twinkle with adoration toward satoru, neither of you immune to his antics. he so desperately wanted to be the person that could do it all.

“I already called the handyman, he’ll be here in an hour.” your inky haired boyfriend laughs.

poly!geto and gojo who show their affection in different ways. satoru is touchy feely, always hanging off of you when he’s near. a hand on your thigh, arm resting on your shoulders, arms laced around your waist, somehow someway he’s going to be touching you. suguru likes to show his affection in subtle acts of service and gifts. he’ll buy a case of your favorite soda when he’s grocery shopping (even though he’s been trying to wean you and satoru off the sugar), wash the dishes even though it’s your turn, or let you have the remote when you’re watching tv on the couch.

poly!geto and gojo who are kept up throughout the misty late nights, twilight darkness outside of your windows, whispering over your sleeping form in hushed tones about their fears of protecting you. the title of the strongest duo attracted many dangers and who better to target to injure them deep into the core of their souls than you? you had attended jujutsu high with them, become a sorcerer and continued missions, but didn’t show anything close to the promise that either man did. you were a grade 2, and you were okay with that. your lovers were too, understanding that you had no desire to move up in the ranks. however, they couldn’t stop the visions of fallen comrades, substituted for your face, flashing through their closed eyes after a rough day. those nights, your boys held you extra tight.

I’m absolutely making this a series, this was so fun to write ( ˘ ³˘)♥

#gojo satoru x you #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader x gojo #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #poly!geto and gojo

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specialgradefckr · 5 months ago

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Heatwave: Day 5

tw: explicit content, noncon/heavy dubcon. 4k+ words. Satoru/Reader/Suguru poly. afab!omega!reader, alpha!gojo, alpha!geto. yandere gojo and geto.

mind games, de-socialization/infantilization, caregiver/dependency kinks, piss kink, humiliation/control, captivity, stockholm syndrome, physical restraints, force-feeding (briefly), restricted bathroom access, suggestions of heat/breeding/pregnancy, reader has a panic attack.

Prompt: An omega is made to regularly piss themselves to show submission to the alpha(s) around them.

It’s for different reasons that Gojo and Geto force you to piss yourself during your captivity, but it always ends the same.

Laughter in your ears. A teasing joke – kinder, if it was from Geto – and perhaps they force you to sit there, soaked, for a few minutes until they tire of taunting you and carry you to the bathroom to wash it off.

They never leave you in there unsupervised, so it’s not like you’re ever relieving yourself without either of them present, as awful as the thought is.

That had happened only a couple times, early on.

Gojo had snapped that if you wanted to be left alone so badly, then he’d do it, even as Geto frowned in disapproval.

He’d continued to deliver you meals but otherwise went along with Gojo’s plan… even though you were chained to the bed, unable to so much as go to the bathroom on your own volition.

It was in part due to your own pride that you didn’t ask one of them to help you. You held it as long as you could – surely Geto would have to know.

He’d even asked if you needed anything one day in, and you were just about to ask him to take you to the bathroom when someone – Gojo, presumably – dragged him away.

Then you’d been left in the humiliating position of being forced to soil yourself. Literally, there’d been nothing else you could do.

Afterwards, you’d gone on something of a hunger strike. Couldn’t have your bodily functions and sanitary conditions held hostage if you didn’t eat or drink, right?

You would have been proud of how long you lasted, were it not for how it ended.

It was hard – very hard – to keep on declining food after Gojo started to get desperate, realizing that you really were starving yourself.

He started bringing you offerings of all the best food and drink you could think of. Tempting you with a picnic on the balcony, what would’ve been the first fresh air you’d gotten since they kidnapped you.

That might have been his rut coming on, which would explain his shitty attitude. Being possessive over Geto, over you.

Wanting to provide for you, feed you, growing utterly distraught that you refused to eat the food he presented. Going through a thousand options to please you, like you were his mate.

He was scary. Gojo had always been scary, so upfront and outright with his desires, so unwilling to ever hold anything back.

And it pleased you, somewhere in the dark part of your heart, to make your displeasure – your rejection – so plainly known to the alpha before you.

Later you'd realize that Geto was the scary one. He’d come in one last time, made a final offering and a strict but firm warning.

You turned him down again and he’d returned with a cloth soaked in chloroform.

When you woke up, it was to a tube down your throat and your arms and legs strapped down.

Geto waiting patiently at your bedside for you to wake up, shushing you as you struggled and tried to choke it out, holding your head down gently so you didn’t hurt yourself.

He cooed that you were just so helpless, you couldn’t take care of yourself, couldn’t even eat without being made to, so you absolutely needed to be taken care of.

Couldn’t you see? This was for your own good. You were literally starving yourself, and for what?

Geto reeked of alpha pheromones, which was worse. While Gojo had been inconsolable, seeking your approval and acceptance, Geto’s scent was all delight and satisfaction at having given you what you needed.

Your alpha who knew what was best for you, better than you did yourself, and he was easily able to wrestle his stubborn little omega into submission.

It hadn’t been all his patronizing rambling and smug proclamations.

It had been the fact that you were physically incapable of talking back, telling him he was wrong, telling him you were starving yourself because they did shit like this and you didn’t want to fucking LIVE LIKE THIS –

The fury had choked you, leaving you coughing around the tube for Geto to fuss over you some more, inordinately pleased with the situation.

He’d left you with the tube for two days. You’re sure he would have done it longer, would have left you miserable and uncomfortable like that, forced you to soil the special bed padding made for elderly patients, forced you to endure even more sponge baths like you were an actual invalid.

But Satoru whined about how lame it was to have to change and clean and check your tubes instead of sharing a nice meal together, how boring it was that he couldn’t speak with you, that you’d definitely learned your lesson now, right? Right?

You weren’t even embarrassed to nod as they both stared at you. Look me in the eyes, darling. You wouldn’t put us through that again, right?

Put THEM through it. Like you weren’t the one starving, locked in a room, treated like an actual fucking animal for not wanting to be cozy with your captors.

It’s worse because it plays into your instincts. That’s why they have these expectations, why they go along with all these insane things.

At first you’d been angry, as reluctant as any abductee would be, but the longer you were exposed to their scents, the more you grew accustomed to them.

The more they tried to take care of you, the more you wanted to let them. Two beautiful, strong, lovely alphas who wanted so badly to be good to you, isn’t that what any omega would want?

They knew it, too. That was the worst part.

Your heat was coming up, the first since they’d taken you away, and you weren’t proud or delusional enough to think you’d make it even a day without begging one of them to knot you. If Geto wanted to hold out, you knew Gojo would give in, all you had to do was whine for him.

It fucking stung, the fact that you’d already thought about it so thoroughly. It stung to know their plan was working, that you knew and expected yourself to fuck them during your heat, even as sexual encounters with them became more and more commonplace.

None of them were really consensual, but you weren’t confident calling them rape, either.

Not when they always did stop when you’d asked them to, even once or twice when you’d wanted it bad so so fucking bad.

Pheromones hot and sticky in the air, the scent of pleasure and desire tugging you in. Making everything perfect and right and safe with your alpha for just a few precious moments.

Just by his scent, you knew the alpha was just on the cusp; it was the most arousing thing you’d ever felt in your fucking life and everything inside you screamed to make them cum and give you more of those comforting, arousing, pleasurable pheromones… and you’d told him to stop anyways.

Just to prove that you didn’t actually have any power, this was all because of them. They were in control and they’d fuck you whether or not you wanted them to.

But they did stop.

Even when Geto’s impeccable self-control was in tatters, even when Gojo had gone feral with need fucking you hard; if you told them to stop, they would.

If you told them to get off you, they did. If you said not to touch, then they wouldn’t. At least, not for sexual purposes.

It didn’t stop either one from jerking themselves to completion in front of you; your alpha moaning and whining with a flushed face as he locked eyes with you.

What a tease, Geto would say, Needy little omega wants me to put on a show?

Gojo was no better, Fuck, babe, you kill me, you really do… but what my omega wants, my omega’s gonna get.

Utterly unfazed by rejection, by denial. It wouldn’t even stop him from cumming, from finding release as he gazed at you. The scent of his arousal was more than enough to keep you hot and wanting, hand moving to rub yourself without your permission at the sight.

Sometimes the other one would come and help your partner out, drawn in by the heated noises and obvious arousal thick in the surroundings. Eager to assist with a warm hand or a wet mouth, even locking eyes with you while he did it.

Something dark and possessive flaring inside you at the sight of the alpha that had been inside you seconds ago brought to completion by another.

Something almost worse filling your core with heat at the sight of your alpha being ravished, and another alpha your alpha fluttering his lashes at you as if to say don’t you want to be next? Next to cum, next to us? Inside us, around us, a part of us, like we’re entwined now?

Insane. Insane insane insane they’re driving you insane with this behavior. This façade of care and consideration.

Like you’re really lovers except for how you’re not allowed to choose what room you want to be in at any given time.

You can’t go to the restroom without permission. Can’t eat except for what they feed you. Can’t pick what show to watch, can’t go on the internet, can’t read a book or do anything to entertain yourself without their say-so.

They’ve arranged it somehow so that one of them is always with you. Even your bedtime – in the king-sized bed in the main room of the penthouse – is determined by them. No doubt they schedule it intentionally, so that if they both need to be gone, you’ll be asleep.

You can’t choose anything for yourself, but that’s not an omega’s place. Your alphas will present you with everything you need or want. It’s their duty to know you well enough to keep you satisfied always.

And when you do need to make a choice, when you need that element of control, they’ll give you the options to pick from, so you don’t get too overwhelmed.

Fucking archaic. No one thought that way about omegas anymore. No one treated omegas – anyone – like that anymore.

Nobody but Gojo and Geto, the only alphas in the world with both the power and the perceptiveness to provide so perfectly and so thoroughly.

But even those little moments where they offer you some choice, something they’ll actually follow through with, where your opinion truly counts – even that is just the illusion of power. They decide what to give you, when to give it to you.

And they do what they want, ultimately, hence the current situation. They like to make you drink, bring you glasses of water throughout the day for you to finish, “keep you hydrated”, and it’s laughably transparent what it’s in the service of.

But what can you do? They’ve proven they’re not afraid to force things down your throat. This is infinitely more comfortable than the alternative.

Sometimes if you complain enough they’ll bring you something other than water. Once or twice, Geto would let you pick – “Apple juice or orange, darling? You can always still have water, if it’s too hard to choose.” – and to your utter despair, you felt grateful.

Gojo, you think, genuinely gets off on the scent of your piss.

He’s a bit of a freak, though you’d known that from the beginning. Prone to nuzzling into the scent glands on the side of your neck while he took you from behind against some surface.

Inevitably, he pressed you into it, hard enough to pressure your lower abdomen. Between the pressure of his cock filling you entirely, and the press from outside your body as he fucked you against it, all you could do was whimper.

“S-Satoru,” He’s nicer when you call him by his first name, “Satoru, please, please, I – I have to go – ”

Another thrust, hot, heavy, harder than the rest you think, a grin you can hear, teeth against your ear, “I’ve got you, baby.”

“Eugh – please Satoru I can’t hold it – ”

“If you gotta go, baby, go,” He purrs into your ear, “Just follow your instincts. You can do that, right? Just let go.”

His words make it all the harder to hold back, the innate desire to please an alpha surging through you as your release approaches.

And you’re close, too, about to cum even as you can feel the urge to pee swelling with it. It’s gross, it feels awkward, but you just want it to be over –

“Aww, little omega needs some help? Let alpha help you along~”

Fingers trace over your clit and you squeak, Gojo just laughs while he rubs tighter against you, bringing you all the way over the edge. You cum with a cry, a shudder, clinging to him at your involuntary, humiliating release.

“That’s it, there you go, baby,” He pants, deep breaths as he thrusts his own release into you, “Piss all over my cock. Mark your territory. I can smell you.”

Heat shoots up your body, your cheeks. A sigh of relief as your bladder empties itself. Burning shame. It roils, churns; your thighs feel sticky with more than just cum.

You quiver, burying your head in his neck to avoid the smell. Gojo’s scent is sweet with delight as he rides you through the aftershocks.

He strokes your back while he coos, “There you go, wasn't that nice, baby? Didn't that feel good? Don’t worry, just leave the rest to your alpha.”

He made you do this. But it’s no use getting angry, tensing up or doing anything, really. Your omega instincts are telling you to give in, go limp and obedient and he’ll take care of you.

And you do. It’s either that or soak in your own piss. Gojo’s breaths are deep and he hardens inside you at the scent in the air, and all you can do is whimper.

You don’t complain when he fucks you again in slow strokes to avoid overstimulating you. When he gets fully hard again, you’re starting to clench against your will, and he starts pressing into your clit again in short circles.

His fingers are wet, warm, and it’s not long before he brings you to another peak, warbling high, soft noises while he purrs in satisfaction.

You try not to think about the mess on the inside of your thighs, on his cock. Gojo brings his finger from your clit to his mouth. Blue eyes boring into yours, grinning, while he licks it clean.

So you wait a little while before you whine at Gojo, “Bath,” leveraging the alpha’s need to coddle you.

It usually works. You’re usually only made to sit in your disgust for a few moments of hot, sticky, uncomfortable pleasure before he scoops you up and takes you to the bathroom.

You have a surprisingly thorough skincare routine. Geto likes routines, you think, and Gojo likes sweet-smelling soaps and lotions, and they both like pampering you.

Pretending that you’re their sweet little omega girlfriend they spoil rotten instead of a prisoner who can’t leave.

It could almost be nice. Gojo’s large form in the tub beside you as he carefully scrubs you clean, massages his favorite fruit scented shampoo into your hair.

Grooming you with a diligence that you wouldn’t expect from him, all soft hands and gentle circles. Rinsing everything out.

Your tongue darts out over your lips, purely reflexive, as he cleans you up. For his part, Gojo doesn’t even try to resist the desire to lick over your scent glands when he towels you dry.

You smell like him, after. It makes him hard, but it’s easy to make Gojo hard, like that’s his default state whenever you’re around.

Your bare neck does things to him, you think. It’s stranger that smelling Gojo on you makes Geto hard, when he comes in to make sure he's following your routine correctly.

Gojo kisses at the corner of your mouth before he pops out the cleanser. You sit down obediently for him as Geto walks in, like he can tell you’re going to be put to bed soon.

They fuss in unison; Geto wants a leave-in conditioner for your hair, Gojo thinks that’ll weigh it down. Taking turns massaging your face, your hands, with one product or another. You feel like a doll sitting there – they certainly treat you like one.

Neither of them ask for your input on anything. Gojo styles your hair as he likes, using the hair dryer on you. The one time he hadn’t, Geto threw a fit, saying you could catch a cold.

It feels nice. Hands running through your hair, brushing it. You could almost catch yourself purring. And then Geto will mention a trim, of Gojo will suggest some styling, and you’ll remember with frigid clarity that it’s not really your hair anymore. Just the hair on their pretty little omega doll.

Frighteningly, the thought makes you wet, sometimes. Sometimes you think you’re conditioned to get wet when you feel helpless, because that’s the only useful thing you can do. Get wet enough to make one of your alphas purr and kiss and fuck you into blissful comfort.

Gojo thinks it’s cute, thinks it’s darling, he’ll usually give in to you right away.

Geto actively tries to make you feel helpless. You think that’s what it is, when he makes you piss yourself, that’s what he gets off on. Making you drink more and more, knowing you can’t really refuse. Asking you to hold it just a little longer.

“Come now, we don’t want to make a mess, do we? Just another minute, little omega.” Geto likes it when you make a mess.

Or rather, he likes when you need him to clean you up. When you need him, in general.

“Needy little thing.” He sits you on his lap. The arm wrapped around your waist pressing against your abdomen. “One more minute, love, then we’ll head to the bathroom.”

He doesn’t encourage you like Gojo, but he wants the same thing. You’re not sure which one you hate more. He’s only pretending to fix your hair. Gojo and him are the only ones who see it. It’s not remotely critical, not like your bodily needs –

But you don’t get to decide what’s important. Geto does, and he says you stay here, even when you desperately, desperately need to go.

“Suguru,” You whimper, squirming. You just want it to be over. “Suguruuuu.”

No pretense, anymore. His hand that isn’t constricting your middle darts down between your legs. Rubs your clit over your underwear.

Rock hard. You can smell the arousal on him. But Geto’s worse than Gojo, because Geto doesn’t always care about getting off. Sometimes he’s happy just to finger you. Sometimes he either jerks himself or gets Gojo to get him off. Sometimes he’ll eat you out for hours, claiming you were too fussy, and if he puts his dick in you, you’re not awake for it.

The scent of his arousal has you dripping quickly, it’s not even worth it to stave it off. The best you can do is get him to do it faster, and even that’s not really up to you.

The pleasure comes beneath his fingertips, but it’s sharp, tapered by friction, and he keeps a steady pressure around your abdomen that has the pressure building in your bladder. It’s a painfully familiar feeling.

“Hold it.” He commands, your alpha, and you do, you really do. You don’t want to piss yourself, but you know he does, and he’s just fucking toying with you while he gets you there. “Hold.”

It’s hard, hard, pulling against the tide, fighting the promise of release that swells beneath his touch. You can’t do it long. Full to bursting.

“There you go, just a little more.” He finally drags his fingers beneath your panties. You’re ready to start crying. “So wet. You don’t want to make a mess, do you? Just wait a little longer.”

Lying lying he’s lying and the thought makes it so much harder to control but you don’t WANT to. You don’t!

You really do cry, a sob that catches in your throat when he dips a finger into you and you feel a dam begin to swell against the increased stimulation.

“What a good omega,” He purrs, like he’s noticing your discomfort and trying to relieve you, instead of enjoying it, “Hold it. Hold it.”

Another finger in. So full, you’re so full, it’s like his cock is inside you, there’s so much that it hurts, you just want to let go. He starts rubbing faster against your clit, a sweet friction that you have to fight not to buck into, muscles spasming, control faltering.

“Suguru,” Reduced to pitiful mewls. Just how he likes you.

“Hold it.” He says, and he knows, he fucking knows, he must know –

Fingers darting deep inside you, arm clenching violently against your lower half. Squeezing, squeezing, so hard, all while he pinches tightly at your clit. White hot pleasure pours through you, heady, flooding, and all you know is relief.

“Oh,” He says, like he’s surprised, even though you can feel his smile widen against your neck, “Oh, poor little omega. Had an accident, have you? It’s all right. It’s okay.” He prods tenderly at your clit, nursing you through it.

“I know how it is. You can’t help it, can you, baby?” He kisses against your neck from the left. “Poor thing. Don’t worry. Your alpha will take care of it. It’s only natural, silly little thing like you, you just couldn't help yourself.”

It’s a constant refrain they both like to repeat. Not to be ashamed of your instincts, your body, your needs.

You know why. To your great misfortune, you were born an omega, and so once you go into heat you’ll be struck with the insatiable desire for their knots, and it’s in their best interest for you not to resist that.

The less you resist, the better the chances their claiming bites will stick. Gojo already loves to chew at the glands on your neck – you think he’s even ‘called’ the right side, gnawing at there lazily while Geto is in the room.

For Gojo, it’s just dirty talk, but Geto likes to lecture you. There’s no one in your tiny world who has any level of disgust for your bodily functions.

They’ve seen it all, seen you helpless, sick, all kinds of messy, and they loved you, loved taking care of you. It was an honor for them to see you so vulnerable, an honor only your alphas deserved.

Sometimes he calls it desensitization training, like there’s a purpose to making you piss yourself besides getting high on control and making you humiliate yourself into submission to their whims.

But you do think there’s more to that for Geto.

If they had their way, you’d be a complete degenerate, an invalid, helpless by choice and totally disinterested in changing that.

A spoiled, mewling omega just a few steps away from ferality. They already don’t let you do much on your own, attending to even the simplest things all by themselves.

Knowing only to whine for your alphas to entertain you, provide for you, comfort you, because that’s all you ever needed to do. Utterly incapable of functioning in normal society, and unable to see anything wrong with that.

It’s coming. Soon. You know it is, and you’re sure they do, too. Geto in particular probably knows your body better than you do; probably tracks your hormones and cycles, may even be feeding you suppressants or stimulants.

You can only pray he’s bothered to give you contraceptives, too. Gojo’s a lost cause, he’s probably chomping at the bit to put a baby in you, but Geto would at least be concerned with the implications.

They’d chained you to the bed and locked you up for a couple days alone but they couldn’t leave you alone if you were pregnant. Their instincts just wouldn’t permit it.

Thinking about it makes you shake, uncontrollably. In your shared bed, in their arms, even with their voices cooing in your ear and their purrs and cuddles desperately soothing you.

Your heart trembles. Your heat is coming, it’s coming, and after that you could get pregnant.

They couldn’t leave you alone if you were pregnant. No alpha would ever be able to tear themselves away.

Alone, alone, locked in that tiny room. Chained up. You couldn’t even relieve yourself. Stuck in your own filth, abandoned by your alphas, the ones who were supposed to love you, protect you, provide for you.

They couldn’t, they wouldn’t. No alpha could abandon their omega. But they had once. They had once. They do whatever they want with you, no matter how much you hate it.

You tell yourself desperately you don’t want to be bred, and even you can’t tell if you mean it, excuses flashing back and forth in your mind.

What if they got you pregnant and decided you didn’t deserve their company? Decided you weren’t grateful enough for the calming presence of an alpha during your most vulnerable time? What if they thought you’d look cute, all pregnant and desperate and crying for them?

There’s no fix for this, nothing you can do about it, they’ve taught you that you can’t control anything in your life anymore.

Realization after realization crashes down, each little thing, can’t stop them from leaving, can’t stop them from breeding you, can’t stop them from fucking you in your heat, can’t do anything can’t you can’t you can’t –

They’re going to leave you. You’ll be heavy with child, longing for comfort and affection.

They’re going to make you need them. They’re going to make you weak in the worst possible way. They’re going to use it to hurt you.

Jerking, sniffling. Someone comes closer – it’s warm, paler, probably Gojo – but the shivering just gets worse.

Come closer, leave you alone. They’ll do whatever they want to do. You’ll just have to accept it.

They’re going to leave. Leave you alone. All alone. All by yourself. Locked up, in chains, unable to do anything. They made you need them and they’re going to leave –

Wetness pools in your eyes, and you blink it away without really trying, without noticing so much how the tears roll down your cheek.

The numb terror overwhelms everything. Cold, it’s cold, and somehow so hot. Your heart is trying to bolt out of your chest.

A name you distantly recognize as yours rings in your ears, but you don’t notice, don’t understand.

You’re too busy trying to breathe through all your panting, all the adrenaline rushing through you with the panic.

You feel helpless, completely helpless. Pinned between the two of them.

Larger, stronger, alphas who can subdue your resistance just by existing, emitting pheromones that send you into dizzy complacence or heady lust.

Alone. Alone, alone, they’re here now but it’s not because you want them they don’t care what you want they do what they want you can’t have anything can’t do anything you can’t you can’t you can’t.

The thoughts coil endlessly through your mind, spinning, spinning, spinning in place. A hand rubs against your back, a desperate purr in the distance.

Background noise. You're alone, trapped in your head, trapped with thoughts that won't stop coming.

Spiraling despair that just goes deeper and deeper, new fears unearthed with every thought.

You feel like throwing up.

Would they feel like cleaning you up? You’d be at their mercy, caked in your own vomit.

You feel like you’re dying.

Mabe you are. Maybe this is how they kill you, from the inside out.

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ohimsummer · 11 months ago

Text

✎ . . .❝GOOD GRIEF, SUGURU!❞

— minors dni, period cramps, poly!satosugu rs, established relationship, jokes about period sex (from Suguru lmao), suggestive comments, i wrote this when my uterus was uppercutting my ass

You read recently that a broken femur and childbirth are two of the most painful things a human could experience. The way these cramps feel at the moment, you’re willing to fight someone on that.

“No more of these.”

Gojo snorts. It’s like Geto just revealed the worst news in the world, when in reality he’s just concerned for your health.

Your head jerks to look at him, blinking rounded, puppy dog eyes and hand still reaching for the bottle of pain meds. “Satoru, make him!”

He glances back at Geto, who’s tucking the small pill bottle into his pocket and giving Gojo a sinister side-eye that he doesn’t like being on the receiving end of. “ ‘Fraid I can’t help ya this time, baby, Suguru’s word is law.”

“A lie!,” you whine and try to stuff your hands in Suguru’s pockets. “Suguruu!”

“Darling, you’ve taken enough of these already.,” Geto tries to console you, fingers combing your hair as you bury your face in his neck. “It’s not safe to take anymore within 12 hours. You’ll have to hold off for a bit, my love.”

Your pitiful whine breaks both their hearts, and Satoru reaches for another one of the dark chocolate bars he'd bought for you earlier. “Here, open wide. These should help ease your pain, yeah?”

You sniffle, groaning. “You eat it, 's not workin' for me.”

A beat passes before Satoru replaces the candy bar on his nightstand. “I’ll start running you a warm bath, then. That sound good?”

“. .Okay.” It comes out a feeble whisper, and you shiver in Suguru’s arms. “My nipples hurt.”

Satoru is thankfully out of earshot for that comment, but Geto hears you loud and clear, thumbs massaging the backs of your sore thighs. “I’ll suck on them later.”

“No.,” you mumble into his neck. “You’re gonna try and fuck me after.”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, a soothing vibration. “Maybe.”

“Gross.”

Geto's shoulders tremble as he tries to hold in his laughter. "Ya know orgasms help reduce cramping, too?"

“You would know something like that, weirdo." Your head turns and you catch a peek at the upturn of his lips. "Besides, I don't want blood all over us.”

“Surely it's nothing I can’t lick up?”

“Good grief, Suguru!,” you push yourself up and away from him, scowling at his laughter and the smirk on his face. “You’re disgusting!”

Satoru calls from the bathroom. “Is he talking about period sex again?”

#satosugu x reader #poly! satosugu #poly satosugu #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #jjk x reader #satosugu x reader imagine #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader

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suguru-getos · 6 months ago

Note

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

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hayakawalove · 26 days ago

Text

Cravings

Summary: Suguru decides he wants to quit smoking, but he can't do it without the help of his partners.

A/N: ME WRITING A POLY SATOSUGU FIC? UNHEARD OF... No but I know it's been awhile, I'm sorry. I am going to get back into them once kinktober is done. This fic isn't super long or descriptive, I just wanted to write something simple from an idea I had. I hope you enjoy! Comments are appreciated!

CW: SFW, Fluff, Slight Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Polyamory, Suggestive Themes, Smoking, Addiction, Food, Cigarettes, Alternate Universe, Supportive Partners, Gender Neutral Reader W/C: 3,136

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

“Are you sure about this?” Satoru asks, leaning against the door as he watches Suguru.

Suguru looks up from the fridge, his lips pulled down in a slight pout. He doesn’t know how cute he looks like that.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Satoru tosses a look your way before rolling his eyes. The glance was worth a thousand words. You chuckle to yourself and pick at your pants, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“I don’t know. Maybe cause you’ve smoked since you were in highschool?”

Suguru stands up at that, knocking the fridge door closed with his hip. He’s holding a multitude of ingredients in his hands, all things required for your meal. He sets them down on the counter with a grunt, before looking over his shoulder at Satoru.

“If you don’t have any faith in me, just say that.”

The words don’t cut like they should. His voice is soft around the edges, the comment may even be mistaken for a joke. It might be an attempt at humor on Suguru’s part, but you can tell there’s underlying truth there.

“No, no I do. But you know… in case you don’t make it,” Satoru says your name. “Wanna place a bet?”

Suguru raises a brow at Satoru before scoffing, shaking his head as he looks down to start on lunch.

As funny as that would be, you can’t bring yourself to do it. You knew Suguru was going to struggle, and you couldn’t bet on his downfall.

Not in good faith, anyway.

“Don’t be mean, Satoru.” You murmur, standing up to patter over towards Suguru.

His bottom lip is jutted out ever so slightly, creating a minuscule frown on his face. If you didn’t know him any better, it would be easy to miss. But you do know him. And you know him well. Satoru’s commentary was getting to him. He must actually be nervous about the situation, and that fact tugs at your heart strings.

“I for one think Suguru is more than capable.” You wrap a hand around Suguru’s slender waist, pulling him beside you.

From the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a smirk on his face. You return the act, letting your lips brighten up. Satoru rolls his eyes playfully before taking a seat at the bar across from you. He rests his head on his hand, watching the two of his lovers in front of him.

“Thank you, baby.” Suguru speaks with such reverence it almost makes you flustered.

“I believe in him too! It’s just surprising is all.” Satoru says. “This came out of nowhere.”

It did. You were sort of curious what spurred the moment on, but you figured Suguru would tell you if it was relevant.

Suguru looks slightly uneasy, reaching around to scratch at his neck. You watch the movement carefully, well versed in his body language enough to know that something is up.

“Well I mean, it’s bad for you isn’t it?” He begins.

It was.

“Yeah, but that’s never stopped you before.” You murmur.

“They’re also gross too, if that’s any consolation.” Satoru leans back in his chair.

They were.

Suguru chuckles and leans forward, propping himself up with his arms against the countertop. He still looks like he's thinking about something you're not privy to.

“I just want to be healthy with you guys.” His voice is soft, almost as if he’s embarrassed to say it out loud.

You and Satoru share a look. It was a moment of tenderness that was normal coming from Suguru, but it still struck you in the heart nonetheless. You reach up and run an arm down Suguru’s bicep, smiling brightly at him. The act doesn’t ease his nerves like you were hoping it would. You nibble the inside of your cheek and pinch his hip before bringing your hand back. Suguru jumps slightly at the action before returning to cooking.

“So, are you scared?” You ask, curiosity leaking from your tone.

“I’m not scared,” His tone wobbles at the end. “I’m just…anxious.”

Satoru’s eyes flit between the two of you while he bounces his leg out of habit.

“Do you have anything to use as backup? For when you get the cravings?” You ponder.

Suguru’s expression is thoughtful for a moment. He always thought things through, so you were sure he would have some type of plan.

“No, not really. I was planning on quitting cold turkey.”

You hum at that, rounding the counter to sit next to Satoru. It’s easy to tell that Suguru wants to drop the topic by the way he's avoiding your gaze, so you do, if only for his sake.

~~~

It’s been two weeks.

It’s a quiet evening. The lights are dimmed and the room is silent between you and Suguru. The two of you sit on the couch in the living room, keeping yourselves entertained. You scroll through your phone with your feet propped up in Suguru’s lap, while he sits next to you with a book in his hand. It’s a well loved novel, the edges of the papers crinkled from years of use.

Every few seconds you feel his fingers strum against your ankle, the touch so light it almost feels nonexistent. It’s peaceful.

Suguru’s more or less been doing good in his endeavor. He's been a bit more antsy, a bit more jittery. But he hasn't relapsed, not even once.

Satoru walks in, strolling leisurely until he plops on the other side of the couch beside you. Suguru briefly looks up with an eyebrow raised before returning to his book, an unamused expression on his face.

“What’re you guys up to?” Satoru asks, his voice loud, reverberating off the walls.

You’re engrossed in your phone, so you decide to let Suguru respond.

“Reading.” His voice is short.

Satoru plays with your hair for a moment before leaning over to grab the tv remote. He turns it on, either willfully ignoring or not noticing the glare Suguru sends his way.

“Turn it down.” Suguru says, keeping his eyes focused on the novel in front of him.

If you look close enough, you can see the twitch of his eyebrow.

Satoru’s face changes to incredulous. “What? No. I wanna watch something.”

“Satoru,” Suguru warns, speaking calmly.

“It’s just this part that’s loud, it’s gonna be quiet again, hold on.” Satoru murmurs, eyes focused on the screen in front of him.

“I said turn it down!” Suguru’s voice raises.

The room stills immediately. Suguru never raised his voice. You’ve known him for countless years, and never once has he yelled. You peer around your phone at him before looking back at Satoru, half afraid a fight would break out.

You’re expecting Satoru to at least look slightly bothered, but he doesn’t. His mouth is straight, and his eyes are the same as they always are, wide with curiosity. You would almost think he hadn’t heard Suguru. He did though, as Satoru turns the tv off and stands up straight.

Suguru looks mortified. His eyes are like saucers, with his bottom lip trembling. You think it may have bothered him more than anyone else.

“Satoru, I” he begins to chew the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry,”

Satoru gives a toothy grin as if nothing had happened. Under any other circumstance, the moment would have been a cause for concern. Suguru would only get visibly upset if something was wrong. But the two of you were expecting this. You were expecting his fuse to be a bit shorter, his temperament to be a bit worse.

Satoru saunters over to you, lifting your chin up to place a kiss against your lips. It's gentle, nothing at all like what you’re used to coming from him, before he pulls away.

“Cranky, aren’t we?” He directs at the other man, stepping over towards Suguru.

Suguru’s watching with wide eyes. He doesn’t really know what to expect. Satoru’s a wild card even on his good days, especially on his good days.

Satoru lowers himself to Suguru’s eye level before wrapping his hand around the back of his neck. He gives a little squeeze, not hard by any means but it catches Suguru off guard. Satoru brings his face close to Suguru’s, close enough that they share the same air. Suguru’s unconsciously leaning forward, the magnetic pull of Satoru’s lips too hard to resist.

Unfortunately for Suguru, Satoru likes to play a bit too much. He pulls away before the two of them connect, an evil smirk on his face as he appreciates the confused look on Suguru’s features.

You can almost hear the cogs in Suguru’s brain turning. He's realizing he got swindled, by his own fault of course.

“I'm going to go watch tv in the bedroom, let me know when Suguru decides to behave.”

Well that was rich coming from Satoru of all people.

Satoru takes his leave as the two of you watch. It was hard not to feel bad for Suguru. It wasn’t necessarily his fault he was in a bad mood.

“Hey, you know he’s just teasing.” You aren’t sure why you’re telling Suguru that.

You’re sure he knows Satoru isn't being serious, but his bottom lip is still jutted out in a pout.

Suguru flicks his eyes over to you before back down, where he skims through the book. He must be embarrassed. There's a distinct pink tint covering his cheeks and he looks jittery. Suguru never lost his cool, so you can only imagine how he feels now.

Luckily for him, it doesn’t change your opinion of him at all.

You toss your phone beside you before making your way over to his side of the couch. The well loved piece of furniture creaks slightly as you crawl towards him. Suguru doesn’t know what you’re doing, but he still sets his book aside. He purposely avoids your eyes while you ease on his lap, his hands grasping at your waist to settle you. You almost want to tease him a bit too, but you aren’t Satoru. You’ll wait until he’s more stable. You don't have the heart to tease him when he looks so fragile.

“That was kinda mean of him, huh?” You murmur, keeping your voice low.

He looks so disappointed in himself. You bite back a coo, your body nearly threatening to let it loose.

Suguru finally meets your eyes. Pool of caramel stares right back into yours, making your stomach flip. Even if he was grumpy, he was still cute. You grab onto the front of his shirt, twisting it in your hands. He hums in response, partially because while it was mean, Satoru wasn't wrong.

“Are you craving a cigarette right now?”

“I'm always craving one, that’s the problem.” His voice sounds like it means to be agitated, but instead it comes off annoyed. Not at you, never at you.

“What about it are you craving?” You ask, playing with one of the dark strands of his hair.

He never takes his eyes off you, even when you’re looking away.

“The taste.”

For a second you think he may be lying. Who would want the taste of a cigarette? But when you look at him you notice he’s being completely sincere. You suppose after years of use, the flavor may be comforting.

You lean forward, letting your lips graze against his. Instead of following Satoru’s lead, you press your mouth against Suguru. He greedily accepts, leaning into you a bit more than he usually does. Typically, he's the calm and composed one. Suguru breathes harder as his lips attach to yours, as if he’s holding himself back from devouring you whole. There’s a notable lack of tobacco on his breath. The taste of your peach lip balm bleeds into his mouth, coating his lips and gums until it's all he can taste.

When you pull away he almost looks delirious. He's panting a bit and his eyes are low. “What was that for?” He questions, darting his tongue out to lick up your saliva that paints his bottom lip.

“So you can focus on the flavor of something else instead.”

If you were to peer inside Suguru, you would see how he wants to consume you whole. You would see how his chest aches to have you completely.

But you can’t see inside him.

Suguru attempts to play it cool, letting a gentle smile spread over his mouth as he reaches up to fix your hair. You lean into the touch, feeling relieved that your Suguru is back.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He says lowly, gratitude obvious from his words.

You couldn’t take away the pain completely, but you could at least do this much.

~~~

“Plus, Shoko is being the worst about it. I swear she’s smoking more just to tick me off.”

“I'm sure she doesn’t mean to. She probably wants to quit just as bad.”

The silence between you is deafening. She definitely didn’t want to.

“You know she doesn’t.” Suguru replies, unconvinced with your words.

You can’t really argue there.

“Okay, but just ignore her!”

The hum of the cars driving by fills the air around the two of you as you wait outside the convenience store. Satoru all but dragged you both here, telling you to wait outside while he grabbed something. Suguru leans against the wall, trying not to eye the poor soul who was squatting several feet away and lighting up.

A special form of torture.

To distract him you bury yourself in his chest, hugging until he relents and wraps his arms around you. The air is slightly chilly, but that feeling immediately dissipates the second he engulfs you. You push your face against his chest and inhale, breathing in the sweet scent of your laundry detergent. Normally, his clothes smell reminiscent of tobacco, the scent never welcoming on its own but because it belonged to Suguru you liked it. Now, your lungs are filled with only his cologne and deodorant.

“Are you smelling me?” He asks with a cocked brow, petting your back and looking down at your head.

“No-“ your voice is slightly hard to hear against his body.

At that, you take another large sniff to which he clicks his tongue and squeezes you against him tighter. A bell sounds out, signaling the door next to you was opening. Satoru comes waltzing out with a noisy plastic bag, shaking it around to announce his arrival.

“Hey lovebirds,” he comments, voice muffled due to the lollipop sticking from his pink pouty lips.

Suguru breathes out a chuckle and reaches above your figure, not a hard feat by any means, and drags Satoru’s collar closer to the two of you. Satoru tugs the candy from his lips in preparation. His body collides with the back of yours, leaving you no room for escape as Suguru roughly kisses him.

You wonder what the sight looks like to strangers. Is it weird? You don’t care.

You pretend to flail around beneath them, but they ignore it. Satoru tenderly places a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he kisses Suguru.

“Hey handsome.” Suguru speaks against Satoru’s lips.

Not only is he more grumpy, but he's much more forward now. Not that he was ever really subtle to begin with.

Satoru steps back to give you space to which you gratefully accept, sticking your head up to take a deep breath of air.

“Dramatic,” Satoru comments with a grin.

“Bite me-“ you taunt back.

Satoru sticks his mouth open again, darting his bright red tongue out to lick the candy. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you assume that was probably his goal. He sticks the lollipop back in his mouth.

“Careful. Maybe I will.”

Suguru turns your body around and tugs you until your back lands against his chest. He rests his head on top of yours, using the height difference to his advantage.

“What did you buy?” He questions, wrapping his arms around your stomach to keep you in place.

“Something for you.” Satoru responds, talking around the candy in his mouth.

“Any chance it’s a pack?”

Satoru laughs at that. The sound is heavenly to you, its heartiness filling your body with love. “I’d die before buying one of those things.”

Satoru seamlessly slides the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other, before looking down at the bag in his hands. It's droopy with weight, and curiosity has peaked in your veins.

Satoru finds what he's looking for, producing another lollipop. It’s blue raspberry, you manage to read the label before he tears off the wrapping.

“For you.” He says, stepping closer again.

He shoves the candy into Suguru’s mouth, muffling the protests that were beginning to pour out. Satoru looks happy with himself as he stands back, admiring the sight in front of him. His two sweethearts.

You look up, seeing the stick poke from Suguru’s lips. It’s reminiscent of a cigarette, but instead of being bitter and toxic it’s sugary and sweet.

“I figured you might miss having something in your mouth. I even got the bag with your favorite flavor!” Satoru says with a grin.

It’s a smart idea.

Even if Suguru looks slightly irritated.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that!” Satoru pouts. “I would offer to give your mouth something else, but we are in public.”

Suguru scoffs, his eyes darting away. You can see the way he sucks the flavor from the candy, his jaw ticking as he thinks.

“So, does it help?” The white haired menace asks.

Suguru fiddles with the stick for a moment, debating on his response. “No.”

That means it was helping. He looks a bit reluctant to admit it, but his shoulders sag slightly with relief. Suguru probably just didn’t want to tell Satoru.

Satoru takes the hint and chuckles to himself before opening the bag again, pointing it in your direction. When you peer inside you see a multitude of sweets. Lollipops, chocolate, and popping candy fill the bag. The colors are bright, mixtures of red, blues, and yellows filling the plastic.

It was a typical shopping trip for Satoru.

You grab a strawberry lollipop and unwrap it before placing it in your mouth, the sweet flavor all but melting on your tongue. The three of you all match now, white sticks poking from your lips as you begin the long trek home.

It was definitely hard for Suguru, but slowly it got easier. Blue wrappers take the place of empty cigarette cartons, the evidence littered throughout Suguru’s car and drawers. It’s hard work, but at least he has you and Satoru. Over time he gets better, with the help of peach lip balm and raspberry lollipops.

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