#yandere!suguru/satoru
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inorganicone2230 · 1 year ago
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Like Hoarded Gold (Part 1) Yandere!Gojo/Geto x Fem!Reader
Part 2
Summary: Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo are complete strangers to you, but when they unexpectedly learn of the tragic news that has irrevocably shattered your life to pieces, the two of them become determined to help you and make you happy again, whether you want them to or not.
Warnings: Not many for this chapter, just the guys being nosy creeps for now.
Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in this or any future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact that all of this is purely fiction.
“Come on, babe.”
Satoru Gojo moaned shamelessly into the kiss he shared with his lifelong friend and romantic partner, Suguru Geto, as he pressed the dark haired man down into the gym mat of the darkened storeroom they had snuck into.
“You're so fucking needy.” 
Suguru playfully taunted him, even as he groaned and pawed at the other young man just as desperately, his hands finally finding purchase on Satoru’s hips so he could grind their still clothed and aching erections together.
They’d had a break between lectures and when Satoru had teasingly suggested that the two of them find a quiet spot for a quicky, he had been more than happy to agree, which was how they now found themselves in their current situation; namely, the two of them laid out on an old mat in the storeroom of the college gym, desperately dry-humping one another.
“You're not gonna sound so cocky once I’m balls-deep in your tight fucking ass.” Satoru shot back, nipping his neck hard enough that it was surely going to leave a very noticeable bruise, one he knew Suguru would wear with immense pride and satisfaction.
Suguru’s chuckle was deep and sensual as he reached between them to begin unbuckling his boyfriend's belt and pants, desperate to get his large hands wrapped around Satoru’s fat cock.
“Wanna bet on-”
The door to the storeroom suddenly creaked open and both men instantly froze as dim light from the previously empty gym briefly flooded the space before closing and going dark again.
“Shit!” Satoru whispered harshly into his ear, just loud enough so only he would hear it. “Did a professor or someone else follow us?”
It's not like the two of them had ever tried to hide their relationship from the public, such a thing would have been an impossible endeavor anyway, what with how affectionate and touchy Satoru could be most of the time. But even with their relationship being public knowledge, it still hadn't stopped the occasional creeper or fame-chaser from trying to catch them in compromising situations, usually to try and extort the white haired young man for a cut of his rather impressively large fortune and inheritance.
With the unexpected death of his parents only four years prior, and Satoru being their only child, he had been the sole beneficiary to the Gojo family's vast wealth and assets, and while he still had to graduate college first before he could receive the entirety of his inheritance in full, the monthly stipend he received every month to fund their lifestyle until then was certainly nothing to sneeze at.
But it also had the unfortunate drawback of painting a big red bullseye on his back, and subsequently Suguru’s as well, one that led some people to think that they would be an easy target for some quick cash if a compromising photo could be taken and dangled over their heads.
“Just stay quiet for now.” Suguru replied, then tenderly kissed Satoru's cheek with the kind of affection he knew would leave the Gojo heir blushing. “If they try anything, I'll be the one to handle it.”
And he meant it to, he had already beat the shit out of a few creeps for trying this kind of shit, and would be more than willing to do so again if it came down to it.
Satoru was his, and he would always have his back, just like he knew Satoru would always have his.
The two of them, thankfully, were tucked away in a corner of the storeroom behind some stacked boxes of equipment, so they would see anyone that came around the corner, but when no one came, the two of them slowly rose to their feet to take a peek around, wondering if maybe the individual actually hadn't stuck around and left when the door shut.
But there, leaning against the wall next to the door was a young girl, one who both men briefly recognized as a first year, more specifically, she was a foreign exchange student who they just so happened to share one or two classes with this semester.
You had your phone drawn up to your ear and seemed to be calling the same number repeatedly as your expression grew more and more frantic every time the person(s) on the other end failed to pick up.
“The fuck?” Satoru silently mouthed as they looked at one another, confusion written all over each other's faces, but Suguru was just as lost as his partner and only shook his head at him.
He now suspected that you had no idea you weren't alone in here, which meant that you weren't a threat, so his posture had relaxed once more, but now he was also fairly curious as to what had brought you here, and who you were so desperately trying to get ahold of.
And based on the noticeable gleam in Satoru's bright blue eyes, Suguru knew he was also just as curious.
And then, as if their nosiness had triggered something on the other end of your phone, they suddenly heard your voice speak, your tone sounding both relieved and panicked as words, in what they were able to tell was English, began tumbling out of your mouth in fast succession.
The only problem however, was that neither of them knew enough of the language to be able to piece full sentences together.
“Oh come on!” Satoru quietly groaned in exasperation.
He knew enough to be able to pick out a few words here and there; words like ‘no’ and ‘please’ and ‘wait’, which you seemed to be repeating quite often as your voice grew more and more panicked, but eventually, whoever was on the other end must have abruptly ended the call, because you stopped talking as the phone slowly slid from your slackened grip and fell to the floor with a loud enough crash that he knew without even seeing it that the damn things screen was likely shattered to bits from the impact with the concrete flooring.
You looked so sad and heartbroken in that moment, and before either man knew what was happening, you dropped to your knees with a sickening thud that left both of them wincing. Your knees were most definitely going to be in a world of hurt once you finally managed to pull yourself out of whatever dark hole that conversation had thrown you into.
And then came the wailing…
The sounds that came pouring out of you were absolutely gut wrenching, and despite not knowing anything about you, not even your name, it took everything Satoru and Suguru had to stop themselves from going to you and demanding what it was that had caused this.
You had your arms wrapped so tightly around yourself, like you would fall to pieces if you weren't holding yourself together in that lonely embrace, and you were sobbing so hard that they both feared you might actually make yourself sick if you didn't get your breathing under control.
“What do you think we should do?” Suguru whispered.
Satoru didn't once take his eyes off you as he shook his head in uncertainty.
“I honestly don't know.” He answered. “We would probably just make things worse if we suddenly pop out and she learns we've been here this whole time.”
Suguru had to agree, and as much as it killed him to stand back and let your trauma unfold like this, he knew that Satoru was right.
Neither of them completely understood why they had this unexplainable urge to go to you, someone who was a complete and total stranger, but it was a matter they were going to have to ponder together and discuss at great length before making any solid decisions on.
But for now, they simply had to let the situation run its natural course and hope for the best, even if waiting and patience was never either of their strong suits.
And so they did.
They waited for almost thirty minutes, watching and listening to the sound of your very soul shattering as you cried yourself into exhaustion before you eventually managed to pick yourself back up off the floor and slowly and silently exit the storage space. Neither of them failed to notice the dead expression on your face or how utterly lifeless your eyes appeared to be, and both men knew it had little to do with the poor lighting from the few small windows sprinkled along the walls near the ceiling.
And only once they were certain they were alone again did both Satoru and Suguru finally release the breath neither of them realized they were simultaneously holding.
“Fucking hell…” Satoru groaned and slumped down to the floor to sit on his haunches. “What was that all about?” He asked, looking up at Suguru through feather soft lashes.
Suguru leaned back against the wall across from him and let out his own sigh of frustration.
He didn't understand what this feeling was or where it was coming from, but it was taking all his restraint not to go chasing after you, to make certain you didn't do anything foolish.
Perhaps it had something to do with seeing you in such a vulnerable state when you thought you were completely alone…
He had seen plenty of his friends in bad moods or had been a shoulder for them to cry on when they were stressed and upset, but he had never seen anyone in real life break apart so uncontrollably the way you had just now; not even Satoru after the death of his parents, if one could even call those two absent shit-stains by the title of parent.
“I don't know.” He whispered. “Maybe she has a significant other back home and they got into a fight or something?”
He saw the darkened look that flashed across Satoru's face and knew immediately that the thought of that prospect didn't settle with him any better than it did with Suguru himself.
“Or someone she knows could have gotten hurt, or even died.” Satoru casually stated, and wondered what it must have said about him that he hoped it was that and not Suguru's option.
This was not what either of them had expected to deal with today, not that anyone could have predicted it, but now that they had witnessed what you obviously must have thought was a moment of extreme vulnerability, their interest was thoroughly piqued and he knew that neither he nor Suguru would be able to walk away and just forget about it so easily.
At the very least, he wanted to know the details of the situation, even if they couldn't do anything about it to help you in the end, because if he didn't, then those mournful cries of yours would follow him for a long time, possibly forever, and he wasn't entirely sure he could stay sane if the burning question of it wasn't answered.
“Come on, let's go home for the rest of the day and figure out what we want to do.” Suguru said, and held his hand out to help his boyfriend rise to his feet. “There's no point in attending any more of our classes today if neither of us will be able to properly concentrate.”
It wasn't until they were almost to the door that something caught Satoru's attention and he had to pause for a moment to thank the heavens for his good fortune, because there was your shattered phone, still laying on the ground where it had originally dropped.
“It must be our lucky day, babe.” He said with a grin, bending down to pick up the device.
“I'm not too surprised, the poor thing was practically catatonic when she left, and a broken phone was probably the last thing on her mind.” Suguru wrapped his arms around Satoru's middle and rested his chin in the crook of his neck to look over his shoulder and watch him gingerly tap at the screen. “Maybe we could use returning it as an excuse to talk to her?” He suggested, but dismissed the idea just as quickly when he realized that would mean needing to explain how they found it and how they knew it was yours.
Satoru nodded his head absentmindedly, already knowing that he and Suguru had likely reached the same conclusion on that option, but he had one that might prove to be a bit more useful to them in the long run, especially as the lock screen lit up and showed both men that it was only the protective cover over the screen that was shattered. The sturdy case and screen protector had spared it from any true damage, and as he stared at the picture you had set of you and what appeared to be your parents at your high school graduation ceremony, he couldn't help but feel that fate was too good a word to describe this opportunity, and it had to mean something so much more.
“Let's stop by a cell-phone store on the way home.” He suggested, before pocketing the device and turning to give his boyfriend a conspiratorial wink and smile. “I have an idea of my own that I think you'll like a whole lot more.”
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Later on that night, Satoru and Suguru found themselves snuggled up together on the couch that faced the large wall of windows in their penthouse apartment that overlooked the Tokyo city skyline.
When the two of them had first graduated high school together nearly four years earlier and started apartment hunting together, they had immediately been sold on this particular property, located in Minato, based solely on the views it provided of the city at night, and naturally, with Satoru being who he was, they ended up with the absolute best the building had to offer, right at the very top on the 45th floor.
It had already come fully furnished at the time they had first moved in, but over the course of their almost four year residency, they had slowly replaced everything with pieces that were more suited to their own tastes and preferences.
That was one thing that he loved so much about Satoru, despite the apartment being in his name and the money from his monthly stipends paying for everything they had, his boyfriend never made him feel less than for not being able to contribute more than his ability to cook and help clean. Satoru always told him that the money was just as much his, and had even gone so far as to get Suguru's name put on the account and debit/credit cards of his very own so he never had to ask for money.
Satoru, for all his childish tendencies and spoiled entitlement, saw the two of them as equal partners in their relationship, and did everything he possibly could to show him that at every opportunity.
But the greatest gift of all, besides just being in his life, had been in the form of his college expenses.
Satoru had always been destined to attend his parents alma mater, the University of Tokyo, but for Suguru, with his poorer background and lack of financial resources, despite his excellent grades and a long list of extracurriculars that had earned him a full scholarship to the elite high school they had both attended, the prestigious university had always felt more like a far off and unattainable dream as he'd sent in his application for it, and half a dozen other more affordable and realistic schools.
Schools that were far enough away that it would have seen him and Satoru separated and likely to break up.
So when, mere days after his parents' funeral, Satoru had expressed a keen desire to pay for his tuition entirely from his own pocket, just to help him achieve his dreams and keep them from being separated, Suguru had known then and there that the white haired young man was the one for him.
It wasn't about the money though, Suguru had never given a single thought to asking his, admittedly very wealthy boyfriend, for financial assistance. It was Satoru's genuine desire to help him and not lose each other that had cemented it in his mind that they were it for one another; that, come hell or high water, he would fight tooth and nail to keep what they had, and Satoru had been more that eager to share the sentiment.
And now, here they were, making what might be one of the biggest decisions of their life together as they scrolled through your now deactivated phone, and seething with rage at what they were learning.
“You're reading the same thing as me, right? I’m not misinterpreting this?” Satoru asked through clenched teeth.
Suguru's mood wasn't much better as he took the phone from his boyfriend's tightening grip to read the translated email more closely.
“No, you're not.”
After leaving campus for the day, the first thing they had done was drive to a small electronics store on the outskirts of the city to have your phone deactivated. And thankfully, with the help of a very hefty bribe, the creep working the shady storefront had been more than happy to ignore the questionable ethics of forcefully disconnecting and resetting the password on a phone that clearly didn't belong to either of the men asking for it to be done, and in less than thirty minutes, the two had been on their merry way back home.
It had been Suguru's idea to run everything on your phone through a translator app so they could try and figure out what was going on with you, and while they both felt a mild sense of guilt over snooping so deeply into your private life, they told themselves it was for your own good, that they were only trying to help.
The translations were by no means perfect, but both men were smart enough to read between the lines and mentally fix whatever errors there were in the process, and while your text messages had been a bust, with most of them being fairly quick and concise, your emails proved to be much more fruitful.
And rage inducing…
Satoru had been right in assuming that whatever had brought on your traumatic breakdown had to do with your family, but if what they were reading had any kind of truth to it, which neither of them were truly doubting, then it was so much worse than just someone you knew and loved dying on you.
The email in question was from your mother and read as followed;
(Y/N), I know this will come as a tremendous shock to you whenever you read this, and I need you to understand that me and your father are not making this decision to be cruel to you, but you are no longer a child, you are a grown woman on her own at college, in another country no less, and I feel like I should be allowed to be honest with you about the changes both our lives are about to take.
I think you are well aware by now that having you was not a choice neither I nor your father made willingly, you were a genuine accident, and while we care about you and want you to succeed more than anything, you are grown now and fully capable of no longer needing us. Me and your father put our dreams and desires on hold and raised you for nineteen years, and now it is time for us to be allowed to live our lives how we see fit. We have already sold the house and all but its most important items, all of your belongings have been packed up and moved to a storage unit that I have provided the number for down below. It has been paid off for the next six months while you decide how and what to do with it, but this is the final assistance we will give you, as we need all the money we can spare to begin our new lives elsewhere.
I know this is going to be very hard for you to understand, but your father and I were free spirits before we had you, travel and adventure was our life, and while we did our due diligence upon having you, I won't lie and say that you were our greatest joy. Having to be tied down to one place for so long in order to give you the stability you required, it killed us a little inside with each year that passed, and now that we are finally free, we feel it is best we no longer keep in contact with you going forward. It will only serve to remind us of a time we no longer want to think about, and it will only give you false hope in the end that things could go back to your perceived version of normal, and that is not fair to any of us.
We will be replacing our phones and numbers at the end of the week, so feel free to call us anytime between now and then if you have anything to say or add.
And please, take care of yourself and live your life to the fullest.
That was where the email ended.
It had been sent less than 24 hours ago, and a quick check of your call log showed them that your parents were indeed the last people you had tried calling, your mother having been the one to finally pick up and respond to your, now understandably, very frantic calls earlier in the storage room.
“What kind of sorry excuse for a mother would do this to their own child?” Satoru asked, his voice as cold and icy as his eyes and hair. “My parents were shit at being parents, and even they would have never done something as cruel and heartless as this.”
Suguru nodded in complete agreement as he reread the words on the screen again for a third time, and had to fight down every urge he had to punch this awful woman's number into his own phone and give her a piece of his mind.
“The only kind of people who could do this with as little remorse as she seems to have, are the kind that should have never been allowed to conceive in the first place.” The dark haired man responded, and draped an arm over his loves shoulders for comfort.
The two sat in silence for a long while after that, slowly processing everything they had learned, and in that time, Satoru had opened up your photo gallery for them to look through, idly scrolling through picture after picture, wanting to understand you further and gain insight into who you were. They started from the oldest ones at the very top, which seemed to date back three years, and while you seemed more interested in taking pictures of other people and the things and places around you, when a photo of yourself did eventually pop up every now and then, it always blindsided then how joyful and happy you seemed, especially in contrast with how they had seen you earlier, so sad and broken.
“So, what do we do now, Suguru?”
Suguru sighed, having known they would eventually have to discuss this.
“I know we were mostly just curious to find out what was the cause of her breakdown earlier, but now that we know the whole story, I don't think I can just leave this situation alone.” He said, and felt Satoru relax beside him, that was enough to tell him that his partner felt the same as him.
“Normally, I'd say that destiny and fate can suck my fat cock, but I don't feel like it was just mere coincidence that led to us being in that storage room with her today, it was definitely something more.” Satoru said, his confidence returning in full force as he stared down at a picture of your bright and smiling face, wishing more than anything that they could see it in person. “So who better to help a poor damsel in distress than the two best equipped guys in the city; we have the money, the means, and the time to show her were on her side.”
“I couldn't have said it better myself.” Suguru chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Now the only question is how do we proceed and make it happen?”
Satoru flashed him that signature too confident grin as he leaned back into his arms and pulled out his own phone.
“Don't worry, I got us covered on that front.” He said, scrolling through his minimal contacts to find the one he needed. “She might not figure it out right away, but our girl isn't going to know what to do with herself once she realizes she's got two knights in shining armor looking out for her.”
I've recently gotten really into JJK and since I'm not really feeling the motivation to write for any of my other fics at the moment, here is the newest idea that is rotting my brain from the inside out.
Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup  for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories! I’m sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for all of their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read this to go over to their page or their AO3 account under the same name and check out their works, especially Chaos and Erase The Shadow. They are two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME! And who has also started their own Yandere!Overhaul fic called Crossroads and is set in a 1920′s prohibition style era, it’s amazing and you need to check it out!
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hurlingdown · 2 months ago
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‎        ★ ❛ HOT DEMON B!TCHES NEAR U ! ! ! ❜
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synopsis. getting two sex-addicted hot demon bitches as your roommates wasn't exactly part of the contract, but they might just be the second best part of it. oh. and the best part? they are utterly, uncontrollably obsessed with you. wc. 5.3k
tags. top master! reader, bottom succubi! gojo & geto. reader has a cock. hardcore dom/sub. mean dom! reader, masochistic! gojo. threesome, womb tattoos, breeding kink, creampie(s), rimming, face-sitting, rough anal sex, multiple orgasms, riding, blowjob, male squirting, spanking, dacryphilia, somnophilia (slight dub-con), slut-shaming, degradation, praise kink, voyeurism, jealousy, felching, yandere! gojo undertones, aphrodisiacs, both of them are whiny, needy and hungry for your cock.
a/n. this might just be the filthiest thing i've ever written. do enjoy <3
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In hindsight, you really, really should have known that your two roommates were promiscuous, sex-obsessed freaks before moving in with them. No, scratch that. You should have long known that they weren’t even entirely. . . human. 
Not that they were exactly being subtle with it. Once, you had walked in on Satoru naked in the middle of ‘certain peculiar activities’ with his door half-open, wings, tail and dark pink womb tattoo on full display, stretching across the expanse of his lower abdomen in obscene heart-shaped swirls. You were taken aback at first, sure, but you weren’t mean with it, even offering to keep his identity a secret—and he had taken your politeness for something more. 
Now, he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. In point of fact, he flaunted it. 
Satoru would curl his tail around your thigh playfully whenever he would walk past you in the house, stretching his horned fuchsia wings while shooting you a sultry over-the-shoulder glance whenever you were behind him, even purposefully wearing shirts a size too small around you so that the fabric would ride above his waist whenever he had to ‘stretch’ or reach for something—perfectly showing off his pretty womb tattoo. 
It drove you insane with desire. And if that wasn’t bad enough for you, Satoru’s best friend, who also happened to be a succubus and your other roommate—Suguru, decided that the white-haired succubus accidentally outing himself was his cue to start courting you. 
You didn’t even know that succubi courted. You supposed there was always a first for everything. 
Suguru was far from being openly vulgar like Satoru was, but just as indicative of his wants. And that happened to be you. With long black hair, dark wings and a sharp, swift tail of the same colour, he was eerily gorgeous. He took his sweet time courting you, laying blooming red peonies all over your bed that worked as aphrodisiacs, spending his weekends making you wine-flavoured chocolates in the shape of hearts, hoping to get you drunk and all to himself. You would also constantly find missing pieces of clothing from the underwear section of your wardrobe, the distinctive mouth-watering scent of an aroused succubus left behind in their stead. 
Satoru and Suguru were beautiful in a way that most things were—poisonous and addictive. You had told yourself that you wouldn’t get swayed by their honeyed façade and fall into their trap. You had told yourself, but. . . 
The last thing you expected to wake up to was a wet, searing mouth on your hard cock. 
You groaned, shuddering as mind-numbing pleasure wracked through your body in overwhelming waves, reaching out blindly to hold onto something before it consumed you—fingers digging into the sheets so hard you heard it rip. You couldn’t explain why or how it felt so good, the pleasure almost other-worldly—the sensation of an incredibly soft tongue licking up your length, dragging a trail of heat and drool on sensitive skin. The air smelt sweet, like roses and cherries, the sharp sting of arousal zipping up your spine as you took a deep whiff. 
“D-does it feel good, master?” a voice panted, whined, “am I doing good for you?” 
You looked down to find two teary, dilated blue eyes staring up at you, and two you knew very well. “Satoru,” you managed, fighting down a shiver as his hot breaths smothered your shaft with unbearable warmth. Everything felt fuzzy and smelt too sweet, like someone had sprayed intoxicating perfume in your bedroom a thousand times over. “What the hell are you doing here?” 
He gripped your cock tighter with a pout, like he was worried that you would take away his favourite toy. “I just… I just thought I could make you f-feel better. Some de-stressing after a hard day, y’know?” He sighed, rubbing his cheek against your spit-soaked length, raised tail quivering behind him, shyly curling forward to show off the heart-shaped end of it. 
You couldn’t help but look. Satoru was dressed in a satin white shrug shirt that fully exposed his plump chest while allowing his wings to stretch out prettily, and you followed the tempting curves of his toned torso down to where his womb tattoo was pulsing and glowing red, as though showing off that he was eager to be bred. He was wearing the sluttiest, tiniest pair of lingerie underwear that barely covered his ass, the cute bulge of his cock visible from the front, his weeping cockhead poking out, strapped to his stomach. His outfit gave you the perfect glimpse of his soft milky thighs, before the rest was obscured by cream lace stockings that hugged his legs perfectly, leaving you wanting more. 
Sweet Lord. If this wasn’t heaven, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what heaven would be like. 
The succubus trembled under your scrutinizing, squeezing his thighs together as though he wanted to hide the evidence of his arousal. “A-are you done looking?” he mumbled, glancing at you through his lashes. “Can I continue? Please, I’ve been so good and you know it.” You could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate even more when his gaze returned to your erect cock, a line of drool running down his chin as his throat bobbed, as though he were imagining what it would feel like to swallow your cum. 
“Hold on,” you breathed, carding your hand through his soft hair to gently stop him from getting closer to your crotch. “Does Suguru know about this?” 
Satoru’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, his pout fading into something more. . . wary. “No,” he said, quietly. “He doesn’t.” 
“I’d thought so. Suguru wouldn’t—” 
“Stop talking about Suguru,” he whined, like he was actually hurt over this. “Suguru’s not about to suck your cock.” 
You frowned. And what gave him the right to sneak into your room and do blasphemous things to your body while you were sleeping, then? You tightened your grip on his hair, just enough to make him let out a low, pitiful whimper. “And you’re going to be the one to do it, then, Satoru?” 
His eyes widened like a guilty child. 
“I’m impressed,” you scorned, “You actually think you deserve it.” 
Satoru bit his lip, as though he was turned on by your sudden change in behaviour. “I… Master, please. I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been asking for it for ages, I just couldn’t wait anymore—I needed you so bad. Please let me make it up to you. Please, please,” he stammered, hands grasping your knees and thighs in almost desperation while looking up at you with a forlorn expression. 
You looked at him, steering your expression into something like a leer. 
“You want to make it up to me? Is that so?” You pretended to think, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp, and he moaned softly, leaning into your touch. “Fine. Get on the bed.” 
The succubus clambered onto the bed clumsily, settling on all fours as he looked at you over his shoulder with a deep flush, tail quivering with arousal. “L-like this?” 
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” you muttered, hands coming to rest on each of his asscheeks, kneading the flesh softly. Satoru whined, back pressing into an arch as he pushed his rump towards you, eager to please. “So, tell me, Satoru. I’m curious. What makes. . . a good slut?” 
“S-someone who listens to orders,” he replied, obediently. 
“That’s correct.” You whistled, hooking two fingers over the waistband of his underwear, slowly sliding it down to his knees until you completely exposed his leaking cock and hole, the latter clenching and dripping with… slick, like a pussy would. You went back to playing with his ass, ignoring it for the time being. “And does a good slut ever talk back to their master?” 
“No,” he whimpered. 
“What about,” you began, stroking his sensitive inner thighs, “taking what they want without permission?” 
“No,” he repeated, biting back a whine as a slow sense of dread filled him. “That’s what… that’s what n-naughty sluts do.” The words sounded strangely obscene in his mouth, and he flushed, ears turning red. 
“Very good,” you praised. “Last question, Satoru. You’ve answered every question perfectly so far—this one will be easy.” You flashed him a vicious smile, taking great pleasure in his ordeal. “Do you think naughty sluts deserve to be punished?” 
The succubus shivered in both fear and anticipation, swallowing harshly. “Y-yes,” he whispered. “They do.” 
Satoru didn’t even have time to beg for mercy because your hand fell hard on his ass, the force of it sending a loud smack echoing across the room, making him jerk forward with a pleasured cry. 
The pain was electric, and so was the pleasure, a white-hot burn curling in his lower stomach as his cock gave a violent lurch—Satoru doesn’t think he has ever felt pleasure this good before in all his years of being a sex demon. You were a hard hitter too. The skin on his ass stung pleasantly, and he moaned out loud at the thought of you slapping his ass again and again until your handprint was burnt into his flesh, wanting more already. 
“You really are a slut,” you whispered, almost in awe. 
“Please,” he whined. He would take anything you were going to give him—praise or punishment. He was yours. 
You gently massaged the bruised area on his ass, leaning down to give it a tender kiss. “Turn around for me, baby.” You opted for a softer tone, trying to coax him into letting you see his face after the harsh treatment. You couldn’t believe you ever thought that he was the danger here. Things were turning out in the most perfect way, you would believe it was a dream if not for how solid Satoru felt under your touch. 
Satoru parted his lips, as though he wanted to argue—but quickly remembered your words. The pain was good, incredibly good, but it was also fleeting. If this was his first and last chance with you, then he would make the pleasure last. 
He flipped over on his back, removing his underwear and quietly spreading his shaky legs for you. His cock gave a weak twitch as your gaze swept across his body with interest, letting a low whine. 
“Good boy, Satoru,” you muttered, eyes zeroing in on the heart-shaped swirls of his pulsing womb tattoo. Admittedly, you had looked it up on the internet and found out all sorts of things about succubi, terms that ranged from ‘breeding’ and ‘fertility’ to ‘cum-addiction’, and you couldn’t wait to experiment them on him. “Gonna open you up now.” 
You rubbed your fingers against his soft and wet entrance, slathering them in his slick, before starting to push two in, just to be mean. The succubus was already panting, mindlessly arching his back and pushing against your fingers. “Hah… Master… please, more…” 
“More what? Tell me what you want, Satoru.” 
Satoru let out a lewd cry as you rubbed at his sensitive walls, hips jerking. “P-Please!” he squeaked. “Want your cum… inside my womb.” 
You could feel a sadistic smile pulling at your lips. So this was his true objective. To be bred like a cockslut—no, an animal. An animal bound by divine instruction to reproduce again and again and again, brainlessly offering up its holes to be filled with semen until its belly swells with the early stages of pregnancy. Perhaps the rumours about succubi on the internet were true, after all. 
You weren’t going to give him what he wanted so easily, though. You weren’t that nice—he hasn’t earned it yet. 
“Greedy,” you settled for a simple comment, leer morphing into something more innocent. You made sure to crook your fingers at a certain angle while pumping them in and out of his drooling hole, searching for the spot that made his toes curl and back arch, a filthy wail forcing his lips to part. “You sure you can handle that, baby?” 
“Y-yeah,” Satoru moaned, “Breed me… please. Wanna carry master’s children.” 
His womb tattoo glowed brighter, scorching hot underneath your touch. Satoru looked fucked out already and the night was still young, lidded eyes unfocused and glassy while he continued to grind down against your fingers, as though searching for something wider, thicker, deeper. 
“Slut,” you snarled, and the word was barely fitting for how the succubus was acting. You pulled your fingers out, the emptiness making him ache. He gave a loud whine, his hips giving a desperate buck into the empty air, neglected cock red and hard, smearing pre-cum all over his womb tattoo. 
“‘m your good slut,” he babbled, slurred for how drunk and stupid he sounded. You were sure anyone standing outside your bedroom would hear him with how loud he was being. 
His mouth felt empty, you decided. A little too empty. You hooked a thumb into the stretchy side of his mouth before rubbing your fingers on his bottom lip, and he gave a soft keen, parting his lips for you to slide them inside, before lightly sucking on them—tasting his own juices. 
“If you keep this up,” you warned, “Suguru will hear. You don’t want him hearing me making you scream, do you, Satoru? Or are you more of a pervert than I thought?” 
“No,” he said, muffled by your fingers stuffing his mouth full, tears dribbling down his cheeks. 
“Good sluts don’t talk with their mouth full,” you reminded him, gently brushing away his tears. 
He shook his head quickly, whining. Satoru didn’t like to share, and you knew that. You were his bond, his human. You didn’t need another succubus. Right? 
You bit down a smile at his blatant jealousy, pretending not to notice the presence right outside your room, the rustle of fabric unmistakable—barely covered by Satoru’s loud whimpers. It was a little too early to reveal it, with how both of them were enjoying themselves. You would indulge them a little longer. 
You coated your fingers with his spit generously before pulling them out, a string of drool connecting the two, before reaching down and unceremoniously plugging them back into his needy hole. Satoru yelped, trying to snap his thighs shut at the sudden intrusion, and you took the opportunity to guide them to wrap around your waist. He flushed, stammering out an apology, but you wouldn’t miss this chance to tease him. 
“Look at you, Satoru.” You continued to scissor him, occasionally pulling out to slather your cock with his sweet-smelling slick. “I haven’t even put it in yet, and here you are, drooling like we’ve been at it all night. Messy cockslut.” 
“Your cockslut,” he whimpered, and it sharpened into a keen when you slowly drove forward to dip the head of your cock in his hole. It clenched around you greedily, and it felt incredible even with only the tip in, soft and wet and hungry, warmth oozing into you, making you burn with desire. What was even more incredible was the fact that Satoru was crying, tears spilling over red, flushed cheeks as he struggled to stay still for you, wanting to please, wanting forgiveness. “Hnngh… master…” 
He was right. Satoru was your cockslut. 
You leaned down to caress his wet cheek, the action only causing your cock to nudge deeper inside, the warm tightness nearly sending you into overdrive—making you moan. You had never been inside a hole this heavenly before. The snug stretch around your girth was insane, and if that wasn’t enough, his hole kept on fluttering and clenching around you, making delicious sensations bleed into you. 
So the myths were true, after all—succubi were demons crafted for the sake of providing pleasure. 
Your vision was growing hazy with lust, the heat in your belly growing. The pleasure was almost too much—but you held on. You would drain him before he drained you. 
Grabbing him by the thick of his hips, you buried yourself to the hilt in one go, and Satoru let out a wrecked cry, fingers bunching up the sheets at the sudden stimulation. His womb tattoo sizzled and pulsed obscenely, and you reached down to gently press your palm against it, making him whimper loudly. 
You didn’t know if you would be able to hold it in for much longer—with how the poor thing was squirming on your cock, sweet slick coating your cock with every thrust in and drive out, the carnal smell of it all making your appetite grow tenfold, making you want to strip him of all dignity and devour. 
“Satoru,” you murmured, thrusting forward, and he answered with a keening wail of your name. “It seems like… we have a rather eager spectator. Should we invite him inside?” 
“Wh-what…” Satoru said dumbly, whines interrupting his words as his eyes struggled to focus. “Spectator…?” 
“Yeah.” You grinned as he realised who you were talking about, stiffening and shaking his head with a cry. He wanted to have you all to himself for a little longer… you haven’t even cum inside him yet. This wasn’t fair. “Let’s see if he’s just as much of a cock-hungry slut as you are, mm?” 
You turned your head to the door. “Suguru. Come in.” 
The door hesitantly creaked open, and Suguru stepped inside. Immediately, the sweetness of aroused succubi intensified in the room, a clash between Satoru’s sugary scent and Suguru’s honeyed one making you dizzy with want. 
“Master,” Suguru swallowed, a red flush on his cheeks. He was dressed in a revealing dark purple night-robe, a ravishing complement to the long, black hair that cascaded down his shoulders. He looked at the two of you calmly, but you didn’t fail to notice the shine between his thighs, giving away how bothered he really was. “How long have you known?” 
“Quite a while. Get on the bed and prepare yourself,” you ordered, turning back to the other succubus who was currently grinding himself senseless on your cock, little whines and pleas plucked out with each desperate roll of his hips. “I’ll deal with you after I’m done with Satoru.” 
Suguru listened obediently, laying down on the bed on his back, night robe gracefully falling open to reveal his purple womb tattoo, already throbbing and glowing with heat and need. He reached down between his parted thighs, rubbing and pleasuring his hole while watching the two of you, soaking the mattress with how much slick he was producing. 
You turned back to Satoru, the sight of his red, crying face sending a jolt of heat straight into your abdomen. “What?” You grinned, gripping his waist and starting to thrust into his tight heat again. “I did warn you.” 
“S-so mean,” he sobbed, arching his back at the pleasure. He was whimpering again, warm walls hugging your length firmly every time you drove in, and you could tell he was getting close again, had been close before you had so cruelly stopped to indulge someone else. Satoru turned his head to look at the other succubus, their simultaneous pants and whines serving to make each other even more aroused, Satoru’s slick drenching your cock while Suguru’s messily dribbled all over his hand, obscene squelching noises like heavenly music to your ears. 
“Gonna cum,” you announced, and both of them answered you with needy, high-pitched whines, Suguru fingering himself to your thrusts while Satoru laid there, moaning and sobbing, reduced to nothing but a pliable body made to take and take and take. 
The latter blinked up at you with glossy eyes, tears dotting on his lashes and crying out lewdly while you continued to pound into him like a rabid animal. Satoru loved it, how rough and careless you were treating him, your gentle hands telling a different story as they caressed his face, the contrast of pain and pleasure making him shiver. No one had been able to satisfy him like this before. You were perfect for him. 
“Please… your cum…” he pleaded, laying a hand on his pulsating womb tattoo, begging for you to fulfil his only purpose in life—to be filled and bred like the dumb slut he was. “I w-want it inside…” 
You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, his warm hole sucking you deeper in with every flutter, every clench, showering you in waves of stimulation to the point where it teetered between pleasure and pain. Just when stars began to float across your vision in hazy swirls, a sign that you were close to orgasm, you pulled out hastily, ignoring Satoru’s desperate, keening sob, yanking Suguru towards you by the hips before roughly plunging your cock into his needy hole. 
The startled moan that you pulled out from the other succubus was enough to drive you to the peak of your arousal, and you thrust a few more times before spilling into warm wetness with a loud, guttural groan. 
When you came to be, there were two kinds of noises rebounding in the room—Satoru’s cries and Suguru’s whines. 
“Master!” Satoru sobbed, bucking his hips into empty air as tears messily dripped down his face. 
“M-master,” Suguru whimpered, drooling and panting, stuffed so full of cum and cock he could barely speak. 
You moaned as you drew out from Suguru’s heat, watching as cum dribbled out from his puffy hole and onto the soaked mattress—and he let out a soft, needy whine, plugging two fingers inside himself to stop anything more from leaking out, as though to replace the fullness that he had felt before. You watched as he lay there shivering weakly, glowing womb tattoo tainted with streaks of white, and you realised that he had come just from you releasing inside him. 
You swallowed, feeling your cock fill out again. Suguru really was a good slut. Perfect, even. 
“Master…!” Satoru cried out again, gaze lingering on you and Suguru with an expression that could only be described as heartbroken, and you would feel sorry for him, if not for you catching sight of the softening cock resting against his heaving abdomen. The perverted thing had orgasmed from watching you cum inside someone else. If that wasn’t a sight. 
“I never promised you anything, Satoru.” You looked down at the mess you had created, smiling innocently. “Plus, Suguru’s a far better slut than you are, don’t you think? After all, he waited patiently for his turn to be bred, unlike you.” You slumped down onto the bed with a heavy sigh, turning to Suguru and patting your lap. “Sit on my cock, baby.” 
Suguru rubbed at his eyes, compliantly trudging over and straddling your waist, the length of your cock rubbing lewdly between his cheeks. He bit his lip, raising his hips until the tip of it nudged against his sore hole, the growing stretch more pleasurable than anything. Your cum turned out to be the perfect lubricant, and the intrusion was met with little resistance, allowing him to slowly sink down with a hungry whine. 
“F-feels so goood,” he slurred, his eyes rolling back as you bottomed out, making the both of you moan. He mindlessly rubbed at his stomach, right above his womb, where you had gifted him a baby. 
“See?” You looked at Satoru lazily, the poor thing watching in a mixture of arousal and frustration. “Suguru’s been so good for me. What have you done?” 
Satoru wanted to cry again at your demeaning tone. This was too much. You were being so mean to him, when he was trying his best to atone for his wrongdoings! He didn’t deserve this treatment, not one bit. If Suguru gets a baby, then he should get one, too. 
“I’m s-sorry,” he snivelled weakly. “Please, master… I promise I won’t ever misbehave again. I’ll be a good slut… I’ll do anything you want.” 
You smiled. “Anything I want?” 
He nodded, desperate. 
“Sit on my face and I’ll think about it.” 
Satoru wanted to protest, yank Suguru off your cock and ride it himself until you spurted heavy into his womb, showing you that he could please you just as much as the other succubus did, maybe even more. You were his, and naturally, your pleasure belonged to him as well. Suguru might be his best friend, but that didn’t mean Satoru liked to share his toys with him. But. . . if this was his last shot at gaining your forgiveness, then he would do whatever it takes to please you, even if it meant suppressing his needs for the time being. 
He scrambled over to where you were lying, carefully placing one knee on each side of your face, trembling with effort as he slowly lowered himself onto your face. He let out a soft, whiny keen as his position pressed his hole directly against your parted lips, and he struggled not to rut against your face—holding himself back from chasing after the addictive pleasure. 
You gently lifted him by the hips to breathe, before pressing a light kiss to the twitching hole. Licking around Satoru’s swollen rim in an attempt to loosen him up, you rolled your hips up into the welcoming warmth of the other succubus, jolting out an erotic moan. 
“You can start riding me, Suguru,” you muttered, closing your eyes and letting out a drawn-out moan as he gave a filthy clench around your length at the mention of his name. “Don’t hold back.” 
“Yes, master,” Suguru whined, rolling his hips against yours in smooth, circular motions, and you could feel the slick leaking out from his hole, smothering your length with the abundance of it, sweet and sleek and thick. The succubus rode you like he was made to do it, his cock slapping against his womb tattoo messily with every bounce, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure—letting out a stream of whimpers and pleas while his hole fluttered around you tirelessly, trying to get you to cum inside him a second time. 
You returned to your task at hand—giving a broad lick over Satoru’s dripping hole to gather some of his slick on your tongue, making him sob out a whine. It was sweet and intoxicating, addictive flavour melting in your mouth like sugar, and you couldn’t get enough—shoving your entire tongue into him before eating him out in earnest. 
And sweet lord, did he taste good. He was squeezing around you deliciously, releasing so much slick that it dripped all over your chin and down the column of your throat, making a mess. It drove you crazy. Before you knew it, you were making animalistic noises against his swollen entrance as you made love to it with your tongue, the vibrations making him croon with pleasure. And by now, you were sure that succubi slick had aphrodisiac effects, because with every mouthful that you swallowed, you found it harder and harder to control yourself, wanting to just give in to your arousal and take. 
“Please,” Satoru was sobbing loudly, feeling wet and loose and dirty, thighs trembling with little restraint as you lifted him up and down your tongue with ease, reaching so deep one would think you were trying to plunder his soul. “Gonna… gonna cum already…” 
“M-me too,” Suguru chimed in with a moan, hips growing wearier with every lift, his impending orgasm making him weak, the fullness of cock giving him the illusion of heaviness, and he held his belly as though he were pregnant already. 
You continued to pleasure the both of them the best you could, tongue curling inside Satoru with precision to press against his sweet spot until he was shaking and whimpering with overstimulation—while rolling your hips up to meet Suguru’s, feeling him needily clench around you every time you rammed up just right. 
You could feel yourself getting closer as well, the noises that your two obscene lovers were making serving to turn you on even more. Combined with the sinful pressure of Satoru’s sopping hole clenching around your tongue and the searing tightness of Suguru jumping on your cock, this was practically heaven. 
Reaching over to grip Suguru’s hips, you thrust up repeatedly into his tight warmth, leaving the other to ride your tongue on his own. You groaned your pleasure into Satoru’s hole, and the succubus answered with a keening cry of “Master!”, grinding down against your face with wild abandon. Both of their womb tattoos were glowing brighter than ever, screaming at you to breed them, take them, devour them—and you did just that. 
You rammed your hips up with a muffled shout, gripping Suguru’s waist so tightly you were sure it would leave dark bruises for days to come—unloading everything into his womb for the second time tonight—your seed, your love, your legacy. Suguru cried out loudly at the feeling of your cum filling him up, shuddering as his cock squirted all over the three of you—his stomach, your chest, Satoru’s back—while Satoru clenched around your tongue so tightly as his orgasm crashed over him like a hurricane, cumming all over your face and the mattress with a hoarse scream. 
You gasped for breath the moment Satoru slid off your face and collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily, black spots swirling heavily in your vision—the aftermath of the most intense orgasm you’ve had in your entire life. Succubi—no, your succubi really were something. 
Suguru was too tired to even protest as your softening cock slid out from his sheath, dragging out a trail of slick and cum. Yawning, he shifted to lay on the bed on his stomach, mumbling “Thank you, master,” before his eyes drooped shut in exhaustion. You watched him fondly, reaching out to card a hand through his silky hair, before a soft, almost petulant whine caught your attention. 
Satoru was glaring at the other succubus with jealousy. Sure, he had gotten a mind-blowing orgasm out of it, but he wanted you filling him up until he felt bloated with your cum, wanted to be bred. 
You let out an amused laugh. “You want my cum that bad?” 
He nodded his head frantically. 
“Well, then…” You turned to where Suguru had fallen asleep, cum trickling out of his asshole and sliding down his perineum steadily. You guess it would be somewhat of a waste to just leave him be. “Since Suguru took your share for the night. . . there you go. Have a taste.” 
Satoru’s face was slightly pale when you turned back to look at him, a sick grin stretching at your lips. He didn’t question you, however, quietly crawling over until he was kneeling between Suguru’s legs. His heart was pounding, your words earlier that night replaying in his head again and again like mantra—a good slut listens to orders. 
Making eye contact with you, he poked his tongue out, slowly leaning down before giving the excess cum a tentative lick. . . and swallowed. 
You were sure those were hearts exploding in his eyes. 
kinktober masterlist! masterlist!
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lanadelreylover11 · 6 months ago
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I feel like a virgin when I search up “x Reader” with a new character I like
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envy-of-the-apple · 4 months ago
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Third Wheel
Dark!SatoSugu x reader
(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)
Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back
Word Count: 7.3k
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When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV. 
It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep. 
It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates. 
And you were just extra baggage. 
You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted. 
But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you. 
It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did. 
"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space. 
Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you. 
"Yeah." You give. "Rough day." 
You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider. 
You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all. 
When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak. 
You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever. 
"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?" 
He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys. 
"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back." 
Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders. 
When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob. 
~
I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore
That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out. 
"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise." 
You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being. 
"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them. 
"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other." 
Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could." 
You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left. 
~
Satoru appears first. 
You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting. 
Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream. 
When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry. 
"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes. 
You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?" 
"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-" 
He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat. 
He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms. 
"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you." 
It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair. 
You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to. 
"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay." 
You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused. 
"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?" 
He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter." 
There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it. 
"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word." 
He freezes. You smile at Utahime. 
"Could you give us some time?" You ask. 
She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you. 
"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room. 
"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him. 
"For what?" 
He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories. 
"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry." 
You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-" 
"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up. 
"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker. 
"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves. 
"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did." 
He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you." 
Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again. 
But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick. 
"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru." 
I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter. 
Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying. 
A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay. 
"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him. 
He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone. 
"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer." 
His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed. 
"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't." 
How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.
You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship. 
"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand. 
"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better." 
You shake your head, slipping away from his grip. 
"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now." 
"You haven't even given us a chance to-" 
"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods. 
"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house." 
He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare. 
There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort. 
"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you. 
"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"
"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not." 
You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you. 
"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes. 
"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic." 
Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her. 
Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown. 
You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around. 
"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear. 
"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?" 
Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes. 
"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends." 
Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs. 
"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue. 
Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side. 
"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better." 
You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better. 
When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared. 
He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure. 
And so did Suguru. 
You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first. 
"How have you been?" He asks nicely. 
"Good." You respond. "You?" 
"Good." 
Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long. 
"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school." 
"I bet you two were scarier." You counter. 
He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not. 
"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh. 
It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable. 
"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same." 
"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine." 
"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were." 
That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to. 
But now, you don't have that desire anymore. 
And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest. 
"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly." 
Suguru frowns, troubled. 
"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-" 
"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable." 
"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place." 
He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift. 
"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that." 
You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru." 
You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately. 
"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?" 
It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole. 
You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you. 
You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours. 
"I love you." 
It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse. 
"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't. 
You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding. 
You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet. 
He's miserable. 
You did this. This was all you. 
"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him." 
They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru. 
Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.
But Shoko was right. You deserved better. 
 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal." 
Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this. 
Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset. 
"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought. 
"But what?" You press. 
Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face. 
"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out." 
You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation. 
"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?" 
You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach. 
~
It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.
You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her. 
"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long. 
"You'll see!" You chirp back. 
Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later. 
"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."
"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise." 
She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'. 
As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy. 
Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought. 
Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass. 
"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you." 
Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!" 
You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore." 
Shoko freezes mid-sip. 
"What?" She asks. 
"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-" 
You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears. 
"What's wrong?" You ask. 
"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?" 
That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?
"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again." 
They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces. 
"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal. 
Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand." 
At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-" 
And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time. 
"Oh." You breathe. 
"Oh." Utahime whispers. 
"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass. 
"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?" 
"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!" 
"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle." 
"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties." 
"I thought we were just doing friend things!" 
"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified. 
"I-I-" You give up. 
All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot. 
Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes. 
"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko. 
"Do you want us?" 
You take a deep breath. 
You nod. 
She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely. 
Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more. 
You break away, panting. 
"You good?" She asks. 
You nod. 
"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now." 
"What?" 
Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses. 
"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks." 
She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit. 
"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh. 
"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?" 
"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy. 
"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy." 
Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next. 
And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation. 
"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you." 
"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy. 
They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes. 
"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?" 
There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush. 
"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet." 
When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself. 
You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm. 
When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair. 
"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight. 
You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime. 
Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue. 
When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go." 
You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams. 
"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always." 
"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep. 
Shoko slaps your thigh. 
"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face." 
Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much. 
You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them. 
Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper. 
"Awake?" She asks. 
"Yeah." You softly say back. 
She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch. 
"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist. 
Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes. 
"I'm gonna get food." 
Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you. 
"What do you want?" She prompts. 
You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door. 
The interaction makes your heart warm. 
Still, it can't last. 
When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist. 
"And where are you going?" She prods. 
You fumble. "Back to my room?" 
"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now." 
"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?" 
"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?" 
"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine." 
"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly. 
"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder." 
You laugh. 
"That's not a joke." She warns. 
"I know." And you kiss her again. 
It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place. 
They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up. 
Everything was just perfect. 
And then, it just wasn't. 
You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled. 
"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone. 
Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold. 
You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay? 
You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it. 
The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about? 
The living room is horrific. 
They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels. 
Suguru doesn't even blink. 
"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal. 
"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?" 
Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth. 
"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition." 
You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos. 
"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands. 
"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that." 
You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting. 
But you know you aren't expecting...that. 
His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore. 
"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them." 
You step back. They step forward. 
Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far. 
"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-" 
"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already." 
He smiles again. 
"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores." 
"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."
They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete. 
The worst part is that everything was your fault. 
Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.
And you speak. 
"I'm sorry." 
Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions. 
"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two." 
Satoru halts. You caught him. 
"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."
Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder. 
"You missed us?" He wonders. 
The lie feels like sand. 
"More than anything." 
His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry. 
"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault." 
Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much. 
Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh. 
"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms. 
"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands. 
You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance. 
I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry. 
Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat. 
"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed." 
His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here. 
"I'm sorry," you say anyway. 
He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. 
"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells. 
And then, he grins. 
"But you will be."
Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely. 
~
You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore. 
The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much. 
The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness. 
They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you. 
You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you. 
Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share. 
"You were out for a while." Suguru comments. 
"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs. 
You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.
"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."
"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.
"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."
You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.
"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.
"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."
Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.
"Satoru, please."
"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.
Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.
"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."
The door shuts, and everything goes dark.
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kekewrites · 20 days ago
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Tw. Insecure/bratty/tsundere reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, obsession, sloppy blowjob, attempted breakup, manipulation, size kink, overstimulation, multiple creampies, cunningless, baby trapping, coercion, aftercare
***
Thinking about dating an angelic guy.
You always wonder why, out of all the pretty and influential girls chasing after him, he chose you. It doesn't help how of a unit he is. Your typical perfect guy, popular, rich, and body that's comparable to a Greek God... and his voice— how you love his gentle and warm voice, there's just something about it that hypnotize you.
He always compliments you, shower you with affection, and be an absolute sweetheart. It gets you pissy. You don't know why you're always in a foul mood around him, he's not even doing anything that could trigger you. He takes a breath and you're already fuming. Grumbling profanities that he would laugh at wholeheartedly, like you didn't curse his entire being.
You hate how perfect he is. Hate how much you adore him. Hate how much you love him, and inside your mind you always question if he genuinely loves you. Maybe he's just playing with you? Waiting for the day he'd humiliate you, telling how you're too idiotic to even believe someone like him could ever love you.
That's probably why you're always cautious around him, you don't believe him enough to love an average girl like you.
***
He can't believe he's dating the cutest in the world. Everytime you scowl, show that adorable pout, he just wants to squish your cheeks together and kiss you plenty. Like a little kitty hissing when you sneer curses at him.
It's adorable really.
You'd say you didn't want to go to the movies he chose. Yet, you arrived earlier than expected, wearing a hint of makeup in that cute dress of yours. Makes him want to crush you. You put in the effort, took the time, even gave him the watch he'd been talking about—his favorite.
He really loves you. Really really loves you but why are you acting like he doesn't? He's confused. Hasn't he done enough to show you, tell how much he adores you? It makes him sad. Don't you know how much he's holding back? There's only so much he could take, you know. He could just take you everytime you run that cute foul mouth of you, shove his cock to make you shut up. But he's so patient with you because he loves you.
So don't push him too much, ok? Or else you might not like it when he finally show you his desire.
***
"You're late," you grumble, sending him a glare. Your arms are crossed, and your foot taps impatiently on the ground.
He chuckles, a soft, knowing smile playing on his lips. "I arrived just on time, sweetie," he says, stepping closer. "You're just too excited for our date, no?" His voice is teasing, but his eyes are warm, sparkling with affection.
You huff in response, but you can feel the corners of your mouth betraying you, tugging into a smile. He notices and takes your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.
"You're just so cute, you know? I really wanna crush— ow!" He hiss slightly as you swat his arm. He pouts a little, "You're strong, you're gonna leave a bruise."
You roll your eyes— as if that's gonna happen. Huffing you tug on his hand, "Let's go. I'm starving."
He smiles, looking at your back, "Ok, sweetie~."
Ah, you really are so cute.
He can't wait to fuck you.
***
"Why're you not eating, sweetie? Is the food not to your liking?"
Your appetite was gone the moment that waitress flirted with him, leaving you empty and bitter. This always happen. You're sick of it, sick of being jealous and feeling shitty for not looking like his girlfriend. Are you really worthless by his side? Do people not see you as his companion?
"Sweetie?"
You didn't want to lash out on him so you remained silent. Too bitter to talk. Even the food turned bitter, leaving you more upset.
He's such an idiot. But you're more of an idiot for being triggered by that stupid waitress, too much of a wuss to tell her he's taken, that he's yours. You're the idiot.
"I don't wanna eat anymore," you bitterly muttered, your face covered by the shadows of your hair, hiding that frown you wore he always seems to love on you.
He gets a sick twisted feeling in his guts, watching how jealous you get whenever some worthless wench tries to get his attention. It satisfies his urge, his sick thoughts hidden by his angelic face. You really love him, don't you? His lips curving into a sweet smile, eyes twinkling with desires. If only you know how much he gets off with you being jealous, you'd never doubted your pretty little self.
So… why are you saying such stupid things?
“Let’s break up.”
“Hm?”
“I said…” You take a breath, steadying your voice. “Let’s break up.”
For a moment, his smile wavers. Just a fraction. His right eye twitches ever so slightly, a crack in the carefully crafted mask he wears. But then, like a master of illusions, he recovers, his sweet facade sliding back into place, though something darker lingers beneath the surface.
“Now, now,” he says, his voice dripping with a saccharine softness that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “What’s the matter?” His tone is gentle, almost soothing, but there’s a sharp edge to it—a venomous undercurrent that cuts through the air.
You don’t answer immediately, your chest tightening under his unblinking stare. It’s as if he’s waiting, watching every little twitch of your expression, trying to peel you apart without lifting a finger.
“I just think…” you start, your voice faltering as his head tilts slightly, his smile remaining unnervingly intact. “I-I think we’re not… good for each other anymore.”
His smile widens, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, his gaze sharpens, a predator sizing up its prey. He takes a step closer, the air between you growing heavy. “Not good for each other?” he repeats, feigning confusion. “Sweetheart, where’s this nonsense coming from? Didn’t we promise forever?”
The sweetness in his tone sends a chill down your spine, but you hold your ground. “Forever shouldn’t feel like this,” you say, trying to steady your trembling hands.
It shouldn't make you feel bad about yourself, shouldn't make you anxious, shouldn't make feel... pressured.
For a moment, he says nothing, his eyes boring into yours. Then, his chuckle breaks the tension, soft and low. “Ah, I see,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for you to feel the weight of his presence. “You’re upset. That’s all. We’ll talk this through, won’t we?”
But his words aren’t a question—they’re a command, wrapped in the guise of concern. And as his smile lingers, you realize leaving might not be as simple as you hoped.
***
Why is this happening?
You thought he would accept and move on.
"Mmm, that's it sweetie. Take it deeper." He coaxes, his grip on your hair tightening. He starts to push forward, forcing more of his thick length past your stretched lips.
So why?
Your eyes squeeze shut tighter as he pushes in deeper, your throat convulsing around his invading cock. He throws his head back with a guttural moan.
"That's a good girl. Mhm, your throat feels so good wrapped around my dick." He grunts, starting to set a steady pace. Fucking into your mouth, using your face like a cock sleeve.
It was gross. He never did that to you.
Lewd, wet sounds fill the office as he picks up speed, his heavy balls slapping against your chin with each rough thrust. Drool escapes the seal of your lips, dripping down your chin and onto your messed up clothes.
He looks down, taking in the debauched sight of you on your knees, choking on his cock. His dick is spit-shined and glistening, streaked with their drool. Shit. The sight makes him thrust harder, faster, chasing his pleasure.
"Look at me," He demands breathlessly, wanting to see the tears and desperation in their eyes as he uses their mouth ruthlessly. He's close, so fucking close already from the intense, vice-like grip of your inexperienced throat. He grunts and curses, slamming forward one last time before pulling out abruptly.
Thick ropes of cum paint your face and hair, marking you as his. Some of it even lands in your eyes, making them sting and water.
"You're so pretty... You look so pretty covered in my cum," he whispers lovingly, smearing the head of his cock across your messy face, pushing the hot seed into their skin like makeup. "The prettiest girl in the world."
You were supposed to break up with him...
How did it escalated to this?
***
It's not like he's losing a lot... you aren't that special. So why is he acting this way? There are a lot of better options for him, prettier, smarter, and richer girls. Someone who can actually match him, who doesn't embarrass him, worthier to stand beside him.
Why is he fucking you like his life depends on it?
Your eyes already hazy and unfocused, breathing hard as you couldn't count how many times you've already come.
One of his hands snakes up your trembling body, finding a soft breast. He squeezes the supple mound roughly, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as he kneads and gropes. He finds a pert nipple and pinches it cruelly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging until it stands stiff and aching in the cool air of the room.
"Hm? Are you already tired? We're just starting," he coo, his hips slamming forward with renewed vigor. He leans down, his mouth finding your neck, sharp teeth sinking into the tender skin. He bites and sucks, determined to leave his mark on you, to claim you as his own. His. He can feel his orgasm building, his heavy balls tightening as he ruts into your abused cunt. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling fill the room, punctuated by the creaking of the bed and your cries. He's close, so fucking close to filling your cunt with his seed.
"Gonna... hngh... fill this pussy..." He grunts between clenched teeth, slamming home one last time. His cock throbs and pulses as he starts to come, thick ropes of hot cum painting your inner walls. He grinds against them, making sure they take every last drop as he marks your womb with his essence.
Finally, with a last shuddering groan, he collapses on top of you, his softening cock still buried deep inside your tender, cream-filled pussy. He pants harshly against the shell of their ear, his hands still groping and fondling your sensitive body.
"Y-You're an idiot..." You sniffle, "Why me? There's a lot of—."
He cuts you off, "You know, I would never cheat on you, right?" He whispers tenderly, kissing your ears as if assuring. "No matter who comes to me, I would never pay attention to them. Never. You're the only one I want." His other hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze.
It was the first time you ever heard his voice to be so... vulnerable.
"The only girl I want... So..." You can hear his voice shake, "Don't break up with me, ok?"
Your eyes glaze with tears, your heart tugging at his words. No, it wasn't supposed to end up like this. You made up your mind a few weeks ago, always nagging at the back of your mind. Ending your relationship would be the best for you two—.
He kisses you then, any doubts in your mind disappearing as his mouth claiming theirs in a brutal, dominating kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, plundering the warm cavern as he grinds his hips forward, rubbing his throbbing erection against your thigh.
Ah, you don't care anymore.
"Don't think anymore, ok? Just let me do it for you."
He starts to rub the broad head of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your combined juices. "Tell you what, sweetheart. I'll be gentle like the usual... for now." He promises darkly, his voice rough with restrained lust. "I'll make this first part nice and slow, nice and easy for you."
"H-Huh?"
With that, he starts to push forward, the thick length of his cock slowly sinking into your tight, clutching heat. He has to fight the urge to slam forward, to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. But he resists, forcing himself to go slowly, to savor the exquisite feeling of your walls stretching around him.
"Ah, you're still so tight." He grits out through clenched teeth, his fingers flexing against your hips as he fights for control. "Such a perfect cunt."
"Too soon! I'm still... s-sensitive!" You cried out but he starts to move then, his hips rocking in a slow, sensual rhythm as he fucks into you with deep, deliberate strokes. Each thrust pushes him a little deeper, a little harder, until he's finally buried to the hilt inside you. He pauses for a moment, letting you feel the heavy weight of him, the way he's stretching you impossibly full.
"Hehe, sorry can't help it. Does that feel gentle enough for you, sweetie?" He asks, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, yet his angelic face covers it. "Or do you need me to be even more... careful?" He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust of his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit.
Your brain short circuit by the overstimulation, all you could think about was him, and his big cock, "A-Ah, you— ish... so good~!"
He snarls in feral pleasure as he feels your pussy clench and ripple around his pistoning cock. The way you are moaning and crying out, begging him not to stop... it's the headiest fucking thing he's ever heard. It makes him want to ruin you, to fuck you so hard and so deep that you'll never forget the feeling of his cock splitting you open.
You came in surprise, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, chest heaving, "C-Can't too much..!"
"You can do it," He growls, his voice a dark, distorted rumble. He can feel his own release building, his balls drawing up tight as he fucks into you with wild abandon, "A-ah~ clench this greedy cunt around my dick, dollface. Milk it for all it's worth.
You never saw this side of him before, a more vulgar side to him. Spouting dirty words that's the opposite of his facade. Maybe, you didn't know your boyfriend that well? He was always gentleman to you in bed, always going with your pace and being mindful about his words but now...
"N-No~ I really ah! Can't!" You shake your head frantically, having enough of the sensitivity.
"Yes, you can! You will, sweetie~!"
He buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin as he chases his pleasure. He wants to mark you, to leave his claim all over your body for everyone to see. He wants the whole world to know that you belong to him, that you're his to fuck and fill and love as he sees fit. The thought of another man putting his hand on you makes him mad, you're only his and he isn't afraid to take that way for you to be officially his.
"I'm gonna cum, sweetie." He grits out, his hips slamming forward with sharp, brutal thrusts. "I'm gonna pump this tight little pussy full of my seed, gonna breed this fucking cunt until it's dripping with my cum."
Breed?
He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing mercilessly at the sensitive bundle of nerves. "I want to feel you cum on my cock, sweetheart. I want to feel you shake and quake as I fill you with my my child."
Wait...!
His other hand slides up, wrapping around your throat and squeezing lightly. It's enough to make you gasp for air, pulse jumping wildly beneath his touch. It's enough to make you even tighter, body instinctively clenching down around him as he fucks into you with short, vicious thrusts.
Too much!
"Now, sweetie~ cum. Now." He commands, his voice a dark and sinful. And with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself balls deep inside her and starts to cum. His cock jerks and pulses as he paints your insides with thick ropes of his hot seed, filling you up just like he promised.
So full...
You gasp out, your skin flushed and damp with sweat. The room spins around you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress as you struggle to catch your breath. Body aches all over, especially between your legs. The feeling of his cum painting your insides is strange, unsettling.
Your vision having black spots, your consciousness fading as you hear him murmur promises to you.
"I'll take responsibility whether we have a child or not, we'll get married and have a cute child."
You feel a warm kiss on your forehead.
"I love you. I love you more than anyone else, I only love you."
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yandere-daydreams · 5 months ago
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Title: Cherry Red.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).
Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.
Word Count: 1.9k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.
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Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.
Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep – or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.
It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.
Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”
‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.
Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”
“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”
Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”
It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”
And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”
If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”
It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—
Oh, god.
As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.
He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”
For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”
You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.
There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”
Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”
A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.
You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.
~
You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.
Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”
Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”
“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”
You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.
You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.
At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.
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delulustateofmind · 1 month ago
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This is Love, Right?
Part two of Can My Friend Join?
Next part: It's all your fault, isn't it?
Yan!SatoSugu x Reader
Sum: You're starting to grow used to Suguru, maybe evening learning to accept his love.
TW: Yandere Behaviors (Cameras, Obsession, Manipulation, trapping), Really toxic relationship, dubcon, oral (F and M receiving), Brief smut, Reader is going through it. SatoSugu (Just a warning in itself), Angst
WC: 4.7k
A/n: Listened to a random Mitski playlist and it lowkey made me depressed while writing this, expect some fluff after this one.
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This is love.
You keep telling yourself that, don’t you?
Even as silent tears streak down your cheeks in the furthest bathroom—the one tucked away from the master bedroom, the one even Satoru’s Six Eyes can’t reach.
This is love.
The way Satoru leans down, his snowy white hair falling across his forehead in that effortlessly tousled way, pressing a fleeting kiss to your lips before heading out on a mission. His crystalline blue eyes, so striking they feel otherworldly, linger on you for a moment too long before he straightens up, a lopsided grin pulling at his lips. Suguru follows, his dark hair tied neatly back, though loose strands frame his sharp, beautiful face. He gives you a casual wave, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint, teasing smile as he murmurs, “I love you.”
You’ve never seen Satoru happier than he’s been since Suguru joined your relationship. Happier than back when it was just the two of you, curled up on the couch, his long legs stretched across the cushions while you laughed at some cheesy anime. Back then, his laugh was unrestrained, carefree. The way his shoulders would shake, his hand coming up to push his blindfold up and wipe away a tear—it felt real.
You miss those days.
You didn’t cry as much back then.
But they love you, don’t they?
They still pay your tuition, still ensure your life is cushioned and cared for. Suguru, always measured and composed, suggested once, “Maybe you should switch to online classes.” His voice was soft, his tone coaxing. It made sense, didn’t it? His reasoning was sound: “There was a special grade curse at the school the other day. We just worry about you, baby.”
Suguru always seems so calm, his velvety voice soothing and warm yet guarded dark eyes giving him an air of quiet authority. You begin to find comfort in that. However, the weight of his presence feels heavy, suffocating even some days.
Satoru, on the other hand, radiates energy. His presence fills the room like sunlight—blinding, inescapable. His tall, lanky frame always seems so relaxed, but you know better. Behind the teasing lilt of his voice and his constant grin lies a man who rarely lets his guard down. The way he looms, leaning just a little too close, reminds you of the distance he refuses to let exist between the two of you.
They worry about you so much. Yet whenever you voice concern for them, they hush you. Suguru’s deep voice reassures you, as if he’s talking to a child, while Satoru’s lips curl into a too-bright smile, his hand patting your head like you’re something fragile.
They love you. They take care of you. It would be selfish to leave them, wouldn’t it?
And Satoru—he’s never been this happy.
He’s working less, smiling more. Suguru’s return has lifted a weight off his shoulders. He’s not carrying the burden of being the strongest alone anymore. You can see it in the way his smile softens when Suguru speaks, in the way his gaze lingers on him longer than it ever lingers on you.
And yet, you tell yourself:
This is love.
Still, you wonder… wasn’t Suguru supposed to be going to therapy? You think back to his promises—vague, half-hearted reassurances—but did he ever actually leave for a session? Ever join a voice call?
You don’t recall.
You try to push the thought away, like so many others. Ignore the red flags. Focus on the green.
The relationship has its moments. You’re growing used to Suguru.
Especially your drunk self—the one that gravitates toward him, curling up on his lap like a loyal dog, seeking out his touch and the warmth of his arms. He always accepts you, his large hands stroking your back or brushing through your hair with a tenderness that feels almost too loving, almost cruel. You wonder what side of yourself that is, the part that craves his affection so desperately, the part that lets the lines blur between love and dependency.
You might even say you’re learning to love him—or at least the version of him that exists in the quiet of the night. The version that pulls you close under the weight of darkness, his voice low and unguarded as he whispers, “I love you.”
It’s in those moments that he feels human, almost fragile. A man with calloused hands and a broken heart trying to mend himself through you.
And it’s hard not to wonder—are you really learning to love him, or are you simply surrendering to the inevitability of it all?
Satoru, though… he never used to cuddle at night. Even before Suguru entered the picture, he always sprawled out in his ridiculously expensive sheets, claiming restlessness from the constant hum of his cursed energy. He needed the space, he said, and you told yourself he deserved it.
Suguru, however—Suguru surprised you.
At first glance, he didn’t seem the type for soft affections, but you quickly learned otherwise. Every night, his arms would find their way around you, wrapping you in a firm but gentle embrace. His warmth seeped into you, grounding and comforting, as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His lips would brush your skin with soft kisses, a tenderness you hadn’t expected from him.
Sometimes, his deep voice would murmur, “Sorry we came home so late,” heavy with sincerity. Other times, his words were more vulnerable, whispered just above a breath: “I love you,” spoken in the dark when he thought you were asleep.
It’s hard not to love him in those moments. Hard not to feel your resolve slip as his presence surrounds you. His breath fans against your neck, steady and warm. His rhythmic breathing eventually syncs with yours, as if his body is learning the cadence of your every inhale and exhale.
For those fleeting moments, you almost forget the cracks beneath the surface.
Other good moments were the intimate ones, the kind that left no room for doubt about how thoroughly they possessed you.
Suguru’s lips would meet yours in slow, deliberate kisses, his touch soft and coaxing, as Satoru’s tongue worked between your legs. The wet, obscene sounds filled the room, clouding your vision and overwhelming your senses. Satoru’s tongue moved with precision, his mouth relentless as he lapped at your cunt, delving deep until your mind felt as hazy as your breathless moans.
Suguru’s fingers never faltered, rubbing tight circles around your clit in perfect rhythm with Satoru’s ministrations. Their combined efforts dragged you over the edge again and again, your body trembling and giving in to the relentless waves of pleasure.
It became impossible to think of anything else—impossible to care about anything other than the bliss they brought you. Their hardened cocks stretched you beyond your limits, filling you completely, their stamina nearly too much for your quivering form.
Suguru would cradle your face in his hands, his dark eyes soft yet intense as he cooed sweet nothings. He’d murmur praises, soothing and possessive, as Satoru pressed the tip of his cock into your overstimulated, leaking cunt. The stretch made you gasp—a sound Suguru captured with his lips, his kiss slow, methodical, leaving you no room to shy away.
Satoru’s hands gripped your hips harshly, his long fingers digging into your flesh, ensuring you stayed exactly where he wanted you. You could already tell the marks would bloom into bruises by morning, a physical reminder of their claim. Suguru, ever attentive, would turn your face gently toward the camera, his voice a low murmur against your lips. “You’re such a good girl,” he’d praise, his thumb brushing your cheek before pulling you into another kiss.
When they were finally spent, when your body gave out completely, Suguru always carried you to the bath. His embrace was steady, grounding, as the warm water soothed your trembling form. You’d lean against his chest, your body limp, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.
Sometimes, Satoru would join, his tall frame slipping into the water beside you. Their voices would soften as they spoke over you, discussing mundane things or recounting their mission. Occasionally, a kiss would press against your temple—a fleeting gesture, tender and claiming all at once—as you drifted in and out of sleep.
For a little while, it felt like you belonged.
And then, when he thinks you’re asleep, Satoru murmurs, “I knew you’d come around.”
You’re never sure who he’s talking to—Suguru, the man who swore to eradicate non-sorcerers? Or you, the girl who’s finally learning to love the monster who holds her at night?
It’s in these moments that you find yourself slipping out of bed, mumbling an excuse to use the bathroom. Suguru always lets you go with a teasing “Come back fast, or I’ll come get you.” You never linger long enough to see if he’s joking.
Once inside the furthest bathroom, the one that feels like your only sanctuary, you clutch the edge of the sink and sob. Quietly, so no one hears. Until your knees give out and you’re on the floor, shaking and clutching yourself.
This is love. Right?
They loved you. So why were you crying in the bathroom?
Why did each love bite feel like a brand, etched into your skin with every lingering gaze in the mirror? Why did their cum, warm as it seeped down your thighs, burn like it was searing itself into you, a mark you couldn’t erase? Why did the blank, soulless stare of the camera lens feel like an accusation, making you flinch away from any piece of technology?
Before too long, you would wipe your tears, force a smile to your lips—steadying it just enough so it wouldn’t wobble—and return to Suguru’s waiting arms. His hum would vibrate against your back as his dark hair tickled your neck. He’d cradle you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Goodnight, baby,” he’d murmur, and you’d close your eyes, pretending his embrace felt like comfort instead of confinement.
But mornings brought their own discomforts.
You found yourself rifling through the master bathroom, searching the countertop with rising panic. Where is it? The nagging thought ate at you.
Satoru, brushing his teeth beside you, glanced over with those striking blue eyes. His tone was soft, almost too casual. “What’s up, baby?”
“I can’t find my birth control,” you admitted, the words trembling as much as your hands.
“Did you misplace it? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He walked over, his long arms wrapping around your waist. A kiss brushed the top of your head, his voice gentle but firm. “Go ask Sugu. He’s the one who organizes everything.”
So you did. Suguru was at the desk in the living room, working through a report. From over his shoulder, you could see the numbers—charge rates, payments for missions—enough to know your schooling costs barely amounted to a fraction of what they earned in a single week.
“Your birth control?” he repeated absentmindedly, his tone light, almost dismissive. “You’ve been misplacing that a lot, haven’t you, baby?”
His words felt condescending, like you were a child searching for a lost toy.
“Where is it?” you asked, voice still soft but with a growing edge of desperation. You were five minutes late—exactly.
“Ah-ah, no need for that tone, baby,” he chided, his eyes still glued to his paperwork. “Check the kitchen counter. Your purse? Maybe your school bag.”
It took thirty agonizing minutes of searching, panic simmering under your skin, before you found it—perched on top of the fridge.
You stared at it for a moment, unmoving. You would have never put it there.
Suguru’s behavior had become harder to ignore. There were moments when his touch lingered, his eyes softened, and his voice carried a wistful tone. He had baby fever—you could tell. Maybe it was tied to the twins he lost.
You’d asked him about them once. His face shuttered, dark and unreadable, and he didn’t respond.
You tried asking Satoru, but he had simply glanced away, his usual bravado vanishing for a moment too long.
You decided not to ask again.
Some questions weren’t meant to be answered. You had a sinking feeling the truth lay buried somewhere with the higher-ups, in a place you weren’t allowed to tread.
Suguru’s baby fever didn’t fade, no matter how much you tried to ignore it.
When the three of you went to the store, you’d catch that soft smile tugging at his lips whenever he saw a child. It wasn’t the type of smile he gave just anyone—it was warm, tender, hopeful. And it was always followed by a kiss pressed to your temple. A gesture you used to pull away from, but now, you found yourself smiling through.
Sometimes, he’d suggest wandering into the baby section, his tone casual, almost playful. “Just in case. Want to see what’s out there.”
The words always made your skin crawl.
Because no matter how innocuous they sounded, your mind couldn’t help but spiral. It always went back to the hidden birth control, the misplaced pills, and the monthly pregnancy tests he insisted on. He’d stand there, watching you pee on the stick, his arms crossed but his expression almost serene—waiting, anticipating. He wanted to know right away.
You tried to shove those thoughts into the furthest corner of your mind. Tried to convince yourself it was all harmless.
Satoru, by contrast, didn’t seem to care much for babies. He never lingered in the baby aisle and rarely commented on Suguru’s behavior. But he’d hum softly, his hand clasping yours, and flash you a loving smile.
You liked to think that as long as everyone else was happy, Satoru was happy.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
Occasionally, when they left for long missions, the apartment felt suffocating in its emptiness. You’d pad softly through the vast, cold space, the silence amplifying every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet.
Your eyes darted around, searching for the hidden cameras you knew were there. You weren’t sure where they all were, or when they liked to check the footage, but you’d found one blind spot: the hallway closet.
You moved slowly, deliberately, ensuring you didn’t do anything that might raise suspicion. Even though you were alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
All because they loved you.
Slipping into the closet, you nestled yourself on the floor, silky yukatas hanging above like a shroud. Your laptop glowed faintly in the darkness as you opened it and began your quiet rebellion.
You searched for apartments—something small, something within your budget. Each listing felt like a whisper of hope. You lingered on them, imagining the freedom they promised, before methodically deleting your browser history. Clearing the cache. Erasing every trace.
It was a silly idea. A foolish one, really.
But for a few stolen moments, it was yours.
It didn’t seem so silly after the heated argument with Satoru when he got home.
He was already overstimulated, frustrated, and teetering on the edge of losing his patience. Those moments were the worst—when the teasing lilt in his voice faded, replaced by something sharp and mean. His cerulean eyes, usually playful and glinting with mischief, turned cold and calculating, the glow of his Six Eyes adding an eerie sharpness to his gaze.
All he wanted was release. That was all.
“It shouldn’t be a big deal,” he said, his tone flat but brimming with expectation.
Except you weren’t in the mood.
“I’m sorry, Toru, I just—”
“I do everything for you, and you can’t even provide me with a little comfort?” His words came out harsh, the grin curling his lips into something too sharp to be soft. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over you. His presence always felt overwhelming—broad shoulders, perfectly sculpted face framed by stark white hair, and a lean body that seemed to hum with restrained power. You swallowed hard. Did he get taller?
“I just got off my period, so it’s—”
“It’s what?” His voice cut through your hesitation, his hands flexing as if he were trying to leash himself. “Come on, baby. Just a quickie. Or let me use your mouth.”
The fight drained out of you before you even realized it.
You ended up on your knees, the cold tile biting into your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed face. His long fingers twisted tightly into your hair, guiding your head as if you were nothing more than a puppet for his pleasure. His pale chest rose and fell steadily, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, glinting like cruel punctuation to his earlier frustration.
The tip of his cock pushed past your lips, the stretch almost unbearable as he moved with slow, deliberate thrusts. His head tilted back, exposing the sharp lines of his jaw, tightening with every wet sound that filled the room. A low groan rumbled deep in his throat, vibrating in the space between you like a growl of satisfaction.
Your throat burned, gagging and gasping as you struggled to adjust. Your hands clutched at his thighs for balance, fingers digging into the hard, taut muscles beneath his impossibly smooth skin. His hips began to move with more force, his breaths growing heavier, the faintest smirk curling on his lips as he reveled in your struggle.
His moans grew louder, rougher, until with a sharp tug of your hair, he pulled out. Hot ropes of cum painted your face, the heat of it stark against your flushed skin. You blinked through the haze, barely catching your breath, the sting of humiliation bubbling up in your chest.
Before you could even reach for something to wipe yourself clean, the sharp click of a camera shutter echoed through the room.
You didn’t need to look up to know what he was doing. You could already imagine him grinning at the screen, tapping a few buttons with casual ease. You could picture the caption as clearly as if he’d whispered it into your ear:
"Our girl is so beautiful, isn’t she? <3"
The thought sat heavy in your chest, a mix of shame, anger, and something else you didn’t want to name.
And then, as if nothing had happened, Satoru turned sweet again.
He brought you a towel, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he wiped your face. “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice softening. He guided you to the bathroom, his fingers lacing with yours, and drew you into the shower.
Under the warm water, he washed your hair, his hands threading through your strands with care. His crystalline eyes softened as he began to tell you about his mission, his lips quirking into a small smile. From the counter, he produced a small box of mochi, your favorite snack.
“You’re everything to me, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. His arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressing against your back. “I’m going to marry you one day. You know that, right?”
And just like that, the storm passed, leaving behind only his affection.. 
Your heart sank at the mention of marriage. With them, you knew they’d find a way to make it happen—the three of you, bound together, no matter how impossible it seemed.
After the shower, you slipped into bed, craving the comforting warmth of the sheets. It was a small solace, a fleeting moment where you could envelop yourself in something soft and familiar.
Satoru liked to cuddle during naps, and true to form, his lanky arms found their way around you. He pulled you close, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzled into you. His kisses came next, peppered across your lips with deliberate exaggeration, loud and obnoxious.
You used to giggle when he did that. You used to squirm and laugh, batting him away as he grinned and pulled you closer.
But now, you stayed still, letting him press his kisses and settle into a nap with you.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled like that. Or the last time you’d laughed at all.
On their next mission, you had exactly six hours.
Exactly six hours for a stupid idea. A fleeting thought. 
You’d planned this carefully, down to the second. When they asked where you’d be, you made some excuse about a doctor’s appointment. It was believable enough—Suguru always asked to see the summary of your visits when you got back, a habit you knew was less about care and more about control.
But this time, you lied.
There was no appointment.
Instead, you booked a one-way trip. Far, far away from Tokyo. Far enough that they wouldn’t be able to find you, at least not right away.
The States. It was the only place you could afford with the small stash of cash you’d scraped together over the years—birthday cards, Christmas cards, anything you’d managed to squirrel away without raising suspicion. You even bought a prepaid flight gift card, ensuring it couldn’t be traced back to you.
No suitcases, no sentimental keepsakes, nothing but the clothes on your back.
Before you left, you scrawled a simple note, placing it where you knew they’d find it. Just three words:
"I love you."
Ironic, isn’t it? 
As you sat at your terminal, the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. You told yourself a 14-hour flight wouldn’t be so bad. It was freedom, wasn’t it? The first real breath you’d taken in months.
But then, a familiar figure caught your eye.
Megumi.
He wasn’t alone—the other first-years trailed beside him—but it was Megumi’s gaze that stopped your heart. His dark eyes widened when they locked onto yours, a flash of recognition that made your stomach churn.
Your anxiety hit you like a freight train, crawling under your skin, seeping into your every bone as they walked past. Megumi glanced back at you one more time, his lips parting just enough to mouth the words: “I’m sorry.”
And then you saw it—his hand reaching for his phone, his fingers already dialing.
You didn’t have to guess who he was calling.
Your heart sank, but you told yourself it wasn’t his fault. You knew Megumi had his reasons—his own happiness to protect, his own precarious balance to maintain. He was trying to survive too, wasn’t he?
You understood. You really did.
But understanding didn’t make the fear any less suffocating.
You cried the entire car ride home, your sobs tearing from your throat, raw and uncontrollable.
Satoru didn’t even glance your way. His icy, dull gaze stayed fixed on the window, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might snap. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by your muffled cries and the hum of the car engine.
In the passenger seat, Suguru sat quietly, his expression unreadable. His hands rested on his knees, fingers drumming absently, as if the tension in the car didn’t weigh as heavily on him.
Poor Ijichi-san gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, clearly caught in a situation he didn’t want to be in. He glanced at you through the rearview mirror—sympathy flashing briefly in his eyes—before he quickly looked away, the moment shattered by Satoru’s cold, piercing glare.
The car felt suffocating, like the air had been sucked out, leaving only the weight of your despair and the oppressive silence of the two men who claimed to love you.
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the familiar sight of your apartment complex slip past the window. Panic prickled at the edge of your already frayed nerves, your grip tightening on the fabric of your clothes. A small sniffle left your nose, your voice coming out hoarse and broken.
“Where are we going, Toru?”
You turned your gaze to Satoru, hoping for an answer, for anything—but he didn’t look at you. He didn’t respond. His profile was cold, distant, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Your stomach twisted, guilt clawing at your insides. You must have hurt him. He always clung to your love like it was his lifeline. You must have broken that lifeline, snapped it in two with your attempt to run.
You shifted your gaze to Suguru, hoping for some clarity, but his face gave nothing away. His dark eyes flickered toward you for the briefest of moments before returning to the road ahead, his expression as still and unreadable as ever.
The car veered away from familiar streets, the urban sprawl giving way to the shadowy embrace of the woods.
Your chest tightened.
Every nerve in your body screamed as the car crept deeper into the forest, the tall trees looming like silent sentinels. Your mind raced with grim possibilities. Were they planning to leave you here? Like an unwanted dog, cast into the cold for daring to run away?
But then, just as the panic began to claw at you, your gaze caught the sight of something familiar—something that made your heart sink even further.
The tall, imposing torii gates emerged through the mist, their vibrant red striking against the muted greens and grays of the forest.
Oh.
The Gojo Estate.
“I don’t think I can trust you enough not to leave again,” Satoru said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically calm, almost detached.
He wasn’t usually the one to chide you—that was Suguru’s role. Suguru, who would dole out punishments with a sharp tongue or a chilling, parental tone, as though you were a misbehaving child. But now, Satoru’s words held a gravity that made your chest tighten.
“So,” he continued, his crystalline eyes fixed ahead, “I figured here, you could have a few more eyes on you. Maybe even enjoy it more. Who knows? You might even come around to the idea of being Mrs. Gojo or Mrs. Geto. Your pick.”
He smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“We already filled out the documentation. You’re married.”
The words hit you like a physical blow, the weight of them crashing into your chest. Your mind spun, unable to comprehend the sheer audacity of it, the sheer finality.
You felt chained.
Like a dog, tethered to their will, stripped of freedom, and locked away under the pretense of love.
They didn’t say anything as they walked you through the grand, silent halls of the Gojo Estate, and for that, you were almost thankful. The air was heavy with whispers and disdainful glances from the servants. A non-sorcerer? Their murmurs carried through the air, sharp and cutting, as though your very presence was an affront to their world.
When you reached the bedroom, Satoru’s hand guided you forward with surprising gentleness, his fingers brushing yours as though nothing had changed. He led you to the edge of the plush, sprawling bed, and you forced a small, trembling smile to your lips—a weak attempt at peace, at hope.
His bright eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought maybe, just maybe, you could reason with him.
But then his hands caught your wrists.
A light kiss brushed your lips, so soft you barely registered it over the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. The faint click of the cuffs was almost lost in the quiet, but the cold metal digging into your skin was impossible to ignore.
He stepped back, his expression unreadable.
It was Suguru’s voice that filled the air next, low and calm, like a lullaby that promised nightmares.
“You’re going to provide us an heir,” he said, his smile almost serene, even as your eyes widened in horror. “It was Satoru’s idea, actually.”
His smile deepened, almost teasing, as though he enjoyed the shock and betrayal etched across your face. “And you’re not leaving this room until you’re safe and pregnant.”
The words hung in the air, suffocating you.
Suguru’s tone carried a quiet, unmistakable happiness, as though this was something he’d always wanted. Maybe it was—he’d always longed for a child, hadn’t he? You turned your gaze to Satoru, searching for something, anything.
But all you found was the lovesick smile he gave Suguru.
Not you.
Your chest tightened as tears pricked your eyes, the overwhelming urge to scream, to sob, to lash out building inside you.
But you didn’t. You couldn’t.
Instead, you sat there, the cold metal biting into your wrists, the weight of their love crushing the last sliver of hope you’d held onto.
You had grown numb.
Must be from all the love, right?
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shaisuki · 1 month ago
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JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST
DATE UPDATED: 12/30/24
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— ITADORI YUUJI
# ITADORI JERKING TO TODO'S GIRLFRIEND PHOTOS
# ITADORI SHARING HIS GIRLFRIEND TO MEGUMI
# GREAT PRETENDER
# APOLOGY ACCEPTED
# DACRYPHILIA WITH ITADORI
# ITADORI LOVE KISSING HIS CHUBBY GIRLFRIEND
# ITADORI AND SUKUNA TAKING "TURNS"
SUKUNA RYOUMEN
# SUKUNA AND HIS FAVORITE CONCUBINE - 1 2
# ONE'S PLEASURE
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
GOJO SATORU
# FLUFF DRABBLE 1 2
# SMUT DRABBLE 1 2 3 4 5
# WHAT DO YOU NEED, BABY?
# ANGST DRABBLE
# HEAVENLY DELIGHT
# OUT OF CONTROL
# EDGING WITH GOJO SATORU
# GOJO BIRTHDAY DRABBLE 1
# I STILL THINK OF MY EX SOMETIMES, SOMETIMES
# BITE BACK
GETO SUGURU
# MY HUSBAND'S BESTFRIEND
# GODSEND TO HIM, A SIN FOR THE OTHER
# PIECE BY PIECE
# GETO SPOILING HIS CHUBBY S/O
# GETO CATCHING HIS ROOMMATE MASTURBATING DRABBLE
# I CAUGHT MY ROOMMATE MASTURBATING, NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT
# TASTE THE SUGAR ON MY LIPS
# BITE BACK
NANAMI KENTO
# HIDDEN INTENTIONS
# A DAY IN A WORK
# RIDING NANAMI
# YANDERE! NANAMI PUNISHING CHUBBY DARLING
# OCEAN WAVES
CHOSO KAMO
# BLOOD FOR BLOOD
# STEPCEST WITH CHOSO-NII
— TOJI FUSHIGURO
# CHUBBY DARLING TEACHING TOJI
# GIVING YOU FLOWERS
# REACTING TO YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT
# MY LOVE IS MINE, ALL MINE
# NIGHTS LIKE THIS
# SON, YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS CUTE. MIND IF I HAVE A TASTE?
# GUN PLAY WITH TOJI
# WOLF! TOJI BEING PICKED BY HIS CHUBBY HUMAN S/O
# CHUBBY DARLING FIGHTING YANDERE! TOJI
# WOLF! TOJI DEALING WITH PUP! MEGUMI
INO TAKUMA
# CRUSHING ON NANAMI'S S/O
— MULTIPLE CHARACTERS
# JJK BOYS REACTING TO THEIR CHUBBY S/O BEING HIT ON
# JJK BOYS REACTING TO THEIR CHUBBY S/O CALLING THEIR NAME WHILE ASLEEP
# TEEN! JJK MEN PINING OVER YOU
# ITADORI AND GOJO WITH A CRYBABY S/O
# GOJO AND NANAMI COMFORTING THEIR S/O AFTER A BAD DAY
# YANDERE! JJK MEN CONFRONTING THEIR CHUBBY DARLING FAILED ESCAPE
# YANDERE! JJK MEN REACTING TO THEIR CHUBBY DARLING BEING AFFECTIONATE
# YANDERE! JJK MEN REACTING TO CHUBBY DARLING BEING PREGNANT
# JJK MEN REACTING TO THEIR S/O BEING KIDNAPPED
# YANDERE! JJK MEN REACTING TO CHUBBY DARLING ACCIDENTALLY HURTING THEM
# YANDERE! JJK MEN FINDING OUT CHUBBY DARLING HAD A CHILD WITH THEM AFTER ESCAPING THEM
# ALPHA GOJO AND NANAMI COURTING CHUBBY OMEGA
# YANDERE! JJK MEN PUTTING COLLAR ON CHUBBY DARLING
# YANDERE! JJK MEN ORIGINS
# JJK SMAU
# YANDERE! JJK MEN FINDING THEIR CHUBBY DARLING AFTER ESCAPING
# JJK MEN WITH A YANDERE! CHUBBY DARLING
# BULLY! JJK MEN TAKING YOU ON A PRIVATE PLACE
— SERIES
# THE CURSE THAT BINDS US
# WHAT MAKES OUR HEART BLEED
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specialgradefckr · 2 months ago
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Beat Your Heart to Death
tw: explicit content, extremely toxic dynamics. gojo/geto, gojo/reader, geto/reader, and yes, stsg/reader. female!reader. mutual pining, requited unrequited feelings, the yearning, good god, the YEARNING. relatively unwilling voyeurism. EXTREMELY manipulative dynamics – boundary pushing, gaslighting, etc.
satoru and suguru are completely fucking deranged. their brains are operating on a level where human consciousness and emotion just hits different. they say INSANE shit at the end of this fic. you have been warned.
Sequel: Heartline Gone Flat
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This must be what dying feels like.
You watch them, together. Leaning against one another, sleeping, vulnerable. Curled up in each other's embrace.
This must be what dying feels like. Seeing the man you love and the man you lust for, so painfully, peacefully, blissfully in love with each other.
If this is dying, you're surely going to hell for thinking something so awful about a feeling so beautiful.
It’s the sort of thing you think to yourself, bury deep – deep – inside the recesses of your mind. Dredging it out in the late hours of the night when you can’t sleep. Wallowing in your unrequited love, feeling sorry for yourself, while also comforting yourself with the thought that at least now you didn’t have to do anything.
You would never have to approach your longtime crush, Suguru Geto, and potentially ruin your friendship with him. It was something you’d struggled with for years, and after Gojo showed up – you didn’t have to struggle anymore. It was already lost.
And the insane twists your fantasies would play out for you, in those lonely nights in bed – you could be free of those, too. You could completely dismiss the insane idea of propositioning the man-whore menace of a human being who made your heart race, Satoru Gojo.
Satoru and Suguru loved each other, and it would be wrong to get in the way of that. At this point, even saying anything to either of them would be a trespass on your friendship, with both of them.
That was all there was to it. Nothing more to be done. You were mourning your feelings. Strangling your dreamy sighs at Suguru’s kind gestures, stomping the flutter in your chest when you caught Satoru smiling. Killing your heart and leaving it to rot, stepping around it like it’s not there.  
Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape the fact that all three of you lived together.
It doesn’t help that Satoru is just as prone to PDA with Suguru as he was with all his numerous hookups. More, even, because he doesn’t keep it to just his bedroom, doesn’t make the token efforts to stay quiet at night and shoo them out in the morning.
You do your best. Look away. Try to ignore how your heart jumps, twists, does all sorts of funny things at the sight of them kissing.
Satoru’s pretty white lashes flutter closed, Suguru’s warm gaze softens, cheeks flushed as Satoru’s hands jump up to cling to him. He cups Satoru’s face like it’s a treasure, tilting his head and leaning into the kiss like he can’t get enough of it –
You’re staring, fuck. You’re looking too closely. The scene burns itself into your eyes and you want to rip them out, never see it again. But you struggle to avert your gaze, greedy mind committing every detail to memory with a racing heart, dry mouth.
Thirsty, you’re so thirsty, in every sense of the word. They lean into each other, so in sync and so affectionate in a way that tugs on your every heart string. Fuck!
You start to just leave the room when it happens. You’d rather die than get caught staring, you’d rather go without water than thirst for droplets.
And you’d really, really, rather cut your fucking eyes out than face the feelings the sight awakens in you. Longing, yearning, how you want to tear them both off each other at once, how you want to see more, more, more, you want to touch, you want to taste –
God, fuck. You’re like one of those shitty girls who fetishizes male relationships. Aren’t you? You feel like this might be that. But you’re attracted to both of them individually, so it can’t be that, right? You’re not a creep, you’re just greedy. You leave the room when they kiss! You’re respecting their privacy!
They notice, though, is the thing. Not your staring (god you fucking hope they’ve never noticed the staring) but how you leave the room when they get affectionate with each other. It’s Suguru who pulls you aside to ask.
“…and listen, I know you’re not like that, I totally know, so does Satoru. It just… makes him feel a little weird, you know? He was raised by a traditional family, so they either think this is a phase, or call him disgusting to his face.”
Fuck your life. Actually fuck your ENTIRE life. “Of course not – I never – ”
“No no no, I know, I told you, he does too, it’s just – it’s a little disconcerting for him. But I can talk to him, make him understand. This is your house, too, you have the right not to see that sort of stuff.”
That just makes you feel a bit worse, actually. Satoru and Suguru shouldn’t have to hide away in their room whenever they want to kiss. It’s their own home.
“I’m sorry, Suguru, I – I don’t have any problem with you guys doing it around the house. I just…” You shift uncomfortably. “I’m not super comfortable with… PDA sort of stuff. It has nothing to do with you both being guys.”
Suguru nods, “No, I understand completely. Satoru will be disappointed, but you’re setting boundaries, and I respect that – ”
“It’s not that,” You say, “I – you can do whatever you like, really, I’ll just leave – ”
“No,” Suguru interrupts with a sigh, “That’s what’s bothering him. I think deep down he’s a little worried that you find it… disturbing.”
Your chest tightens with anxiety as you rush to reassure him, “Of course I don’t!”  
“No, I know, I know, we both do,” Suguru says in that warm, comforting voice of his, “It’s just how he feels – you know he can’t control that.”
And then your stupid mouth rushes ahead of you. Writes a check your heart can’t afford to cash.
“It’s fine! You don’t have to stop, I. Just… tell him I felt like I was intruding. I didn’t think he saw it as me being disgusted.”
And your heart will pay willingly, because Suguru gives you that smile. Warm and affectionate. The smile you’d fallen in love with.
“You’re not intruding at all. I’ll tell him you said so, it’ll be a great weight off his mind.”
So now the love of your life makes out with his boyfriend and you can’t even leave the room. Hahah. God. Maybe you should start thinking of a way to move out?
Problem: When Satoru moved in, he’d basically started paying all the bills. He didn’t have to worry about being cut off from the family money – even at his young age, he had his own financial success. Even if it started out with a few trust funds and an appointed position at one of his parent’s companies.
Every rent listing looked expensive when your current rate was “free”. And fuck, rent was expensive. You’d have to deal with other roommates, people you didn’t know (and love) as long as Suguru (and Satoru, at this point, you’d known him for years), and you’d be paying for the privilege.
You try, oh, do you ever try to get over it. Sexuality is fluid, after all, so it’s perfectly possible that Satoru and Suguru just ended up being gay. Being with either of them may never have been an option, except maybe as one of Satoru’s flings.
And wouldn’t that just suck? To have one night with Satoru only to watch him realize he’s gay and mutually in love with your longtime crush? Better to never sleep with him at all. You can’t miss something you’ve never had. And you wouldn’t want to be a fling anyways.
The thought stings more than it should, because deep down –
(You’d take it. You know you’d take it. That’s why you’re still here, really, under all the excuses. You’re fucking pathetic, pining for both of them. You’d take anything you could get.)
It doesn’t help that they get freer with their affections after your talk with Suguru. Looser. So unrestrained. You walk in on them fucking in the living room, having come back early from class, face burning up as you stand there stock still for a moment.
They don’t stop, or freak out, or cover themselves or anything. You see Suguru’s naked chest above the couch, Satoru’s hands pinned over the armrest of it, their bare legs and feet entwined and sticking over the other side of the couch. They’re both so fucking tall.
So beautiful. Satoru moans so pretty, and you hear Suguru purr, low and filthy, “Like that, you little whore?” and you feel yourself clenching all the way to your core.
You make a wild dash across the living room, staying on the other side of the couch so they can’t see you. Closing the door to your bedroom as quickly and quietly as you can, panting to yourself, feeling the heat rising on your face and the warm pulse between your legs.
(Pathetic, fucking pathetic. It’s like you’re actually some horny teenage boy with a crush on a pretty girl out of his league, rubbing one out every time you see her with her equally hot girlfriend.)
You’ve got to get ahold of yourself.
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Your routine has changed, with the both of them being together, so openly. There were little things you’d shared, now gone, lost to the unfathomable whirlpool that was their relationship.
Used to be you’d buy sweets on grocery trips to share with Satoru. It was an old habit of yours, and when he’d first moved in, he’d caught you with them. Reaching for some with a grin before you smacked him away.
The look he gave you, a slow smirk before he went all wide-eyed and pleading, staggering to his knees like a proper starving drama queen – god, he had to know how he’d made your heart flutter. He probably pulled that on so many people.
Still, he would eat the candies right out of your hand, lips just teasing on your fingertips, eyes lingering on you while he licked his lips. It made you feel weird, at first, but you eventually realized that Satoru was just a weird guy.
He’d yawn and stretch and if he caught you or Suguru watching he’d flash his whole chest, like a girl flashing her tits. He slept naked and left the bathroom door open when he was using it, and he’d often knock when on your bathroom when you were in there, even if he had his own.
He had about ten different game consoles and games for them, plus a huge collection of movies, which he likes to watch with the room completely dark. He sleeps with a nightlight on, and his social media picture is an ugly picture of him from high school with these weird round sunglasses.
Not at all what you expected from a pretty boy like him. But Satoru’s eccentric charm, and the unstoppable allure of his perfect face and body, it rewired your brain somehow. You feel like you’ve wanted him for as long as you’ve known him.
You try to find other people. But the problem with living with Satoru and Suguru is that no one is up to your standards. You’ll never meet anyone as handsome or beautiful as either of them, so why bother?
In your defense, Suguru is hard to fall out of love with.
It’s not uncommon to wake up to the sound of your favorite breakfast being cooked while Suguru hums away in the kitchen, his pretty hair all tied back. If you sneak in quietly enough you can catch a tender smile on his face, the smell of freshly ground and brewed coffee he makes for Satoru in some expensive machine.
If you are unlucky, he’ll catch you, and that smile will grow as soon as his eyes are on you and you’ll fall in love all over again. If you’re lucky, you can sneak back away, but Suguru will eventually come and wake you up with a knock so gentle you suspect he already knows you’re up.
He shares his hair care routine, and it leaves your hair shiny and lovely. But your hair isn’t exactly like his, so he must have adjusted it.
He offers to help you brush or style it, himself, and asks you if you wouldn’t mind repaying the favor. Like you wouldn’t kill or die for the honor of running your hands through his silken locks.
Suguru is the type of guy who remembers when you get your period and asks if you need anything for it. You magically find your favorite fruits in the fridge, cut up, dipped in chocolate or caramel or yoghurt, however you like them best.
He does your laundry without being asked because he says it’s easier, and cleans dishes before you can get to them.
Every birthday he throws you a party, bakes a cake and he’ll spend hours to perfect a meal from scratch to go along with it. He’s perfect at finding a thoughtful present – Satoru just gives you cash, or some expensive luxury purchase you find fashionable but would never buy for yourself (Suguru definitely went shopping with him).
You get why Satoru likes him. Satoru’s sort of a slob, always leaving clothes on the floor – walking around shirtless like he knows exactly what it does to anyone watching “Just providing a public service, babe~” – and Suguru is so perfectly domestic.
Almost motherly. Whenever you misplace something, the fastest way to find it is invariably to ask Suguru, if he doesn’t approach you first with a concerned smile after watching you look.
After enough times catching Suguru sternly chide him for not putting away his clothes, leaving wrappers on the table, forgetting to put his shoes away; you’re relatively sure Satoru’s called him mom or mommy at some point. Possibly during sex.
And god, you get it. Those gentle tones of “Is everything all right?”, and “I tweaked the recipe, how do you like it?” and “I’m just really happy you enjoyed it.”, it’s enough to make your heart ache.
How, exactly, are you supposed to fall out of love with Suguru Geto?
How are you supposed to leave, how are you supposed to want to, especially when you swear you hear him call himself Daddy, and you find your face getting hotter than it should be.
Whispering to Satoru how “I’ve got you, baby,” and “Let Daddy take care of you, mhhm?”
And god, the high-pitched whimpers Satoru makes in response. He’s a tall guy, mewling, melting beneath Suguru’s hands, his words, his cock – and you could so easily imagine yourself in his place –
How are you supposed to be platonic about this?
 How are you supposed to stop touching yourself when they’re practically putting on personalized porn shows for you?
It's after the third time that you start to think they're doing this on purpose.
Whatever’s between them is something you just couldn’t understand. You get that, you do.
The way they look into each other’s eyes – there’s no way Suguru has ever looked at you like that, no way Satoru would ever want you that badly.
It’s something magnetic that makes them slot together at all times, draws their gazes to one another, leaves no room for anyone else –
But you stumble on them… a lot.
Never mind making out on the couch. You turn into the laundry room to see Satoru backed against the washer machine, his cock so far Suguru’s throat you can see it bulge.
His face is flushed, eyes teary, one hand loosely in Suguru’s hair while he whimpers. Dark eyes gazing up at him, fierce, Adam’s apple bobbing and another noise escaping him.
Or Satoru’s sitting rather innocently in Suguru’s lap, at a certain angle, but the sounds he’s making are less than innocent. Vile, even. Suguru’s broad hand wrapped around Satoru’s cock, pumping up and down, Satoru’s body shifting as you can tell he’s grinding down against something below.
And sometimes it’s really just the noises. You’ve heard them so often now it feels like you can put expressions to every moan and grunt and whimper and whine. Satoru makes a certain sort of gasp and your imagination jumps to think of how deep Suguru must be inside him, how his pretty face must look, twisted in pleasure.
They come back sometimes, from parties, drunk together. Leaning on one another like they could never lean on you – you’re not tall, not built like either of them are. Cheeks flushed as they whisper words into one another’s ears, Satoru giggling, kissing his cheek, Suguru laughing and squeezing his waist as they stumble into their room.
Like they’re in their own little world that you could never intrude on. You just catch glimpses every now and then. They don’t even look at you, it’s like you’re not even there – their eyes are locked on one another.
But that isn’t the worst of it.
Satoru and Suguru start bringing other people in.
No - they start bringing other girls into it. Like it's a punishment for catching them, only, you're fairly certain they wanted to be caught.
Satoru’s never been shy when he had a girl over, about walking around shirtless – maybe it’s an exhibitionism thing. And you’re someone they know well, someone tolerant (pathetic) enough to not say anything.
Either that or they’re both just that good at pretending you aren’t there. But they talk to you, all the time. You eat meals together, have movie nights (if you ignore how Satoru will not-so-discreetly put his hand on the inside of Suguru’s thigh while you’re all sitting together), grocery shop together, smile and laugh and share things about your day.
It’s just that they’re also dating each other. And in love, so in love, it’s painfully obvious that there’s no room for anyone else between them. Which makes the girls they bring over turn your stomach even more.
Sure, they’re one night stands. But they don’t even try to keep it quiet. You hear unfamiliar, high-pitched moans and whimpers, a wet smacking sound that has to be Satoru overdramatically eating pussy.
You wonder what his face looks like. What his eyes look like. Is he staring up at her when she does it? Does she have a hand in the feather-down softness of his hair? Or maybe Suguru’s hand, shoving him forward, that sly smirk that creeps over his lips when you’ve seen his eyes grow dark with want.
Is she whimpering because she’s close? Do they tease her, edging her, enjoying the expressions on her face, the way her body trembles? When she begs, is it for them to stop, or keep going? Whose dick is it inside her? Satoru’s, Suguru’s? What does it feel like? Satoru’s stupid enough to do it without a condom but Suguru isn’t.
What are they doing when she cums? You hear Suguru groan (you know how his groans sound, you know how both of them sound), so he must be cumming too. What’s Satoru doing? He’s too needy to be left alone for long.
Is he watching while he jerks himself? Has Suguru forced him to sit back? Or maybe he’s down where the action is, right where Suguru’s cock is buried inside her, laving over her clit and his cock like the slut he is until they both cum all over his face.
Why can’t that be you? Why don’t they want you?
Your fists clench harder than they should be One night you stumble onto them in the middle of the living room, all at it in plain view.
Satoru is in Suguru’s lap, tall enough to tower over him. Suguru’s hand wrapped around his throat, choking him, head tilted back in bliss as his lashes flutter. There’s a woman on her knees, between their spread legs, sucking Satoru off.
And you can tell, by the way Satoru shudders, how he’s loose like putty in Suguru’s arms, that Suguru’s dick is buried deep inside him.
Satoru and Suguru don’t even try to pretend it was an accident. Some fucking roommates they are.
Suguru will smile and blush when you ask him about it, apologizing in soothing, kind tones, offering to never bring another girl home again if it bothered you – you’ve been through the goddamn song and dance so many times already.
He has this way of just. Making you feel guilty for even asking in the first place. Like you were presumptuous to say anything at all, unless it was something he wanted to hear.
It’s turned you into this. So eager to please but desperate to keep them at arm’s length. Wanting, longing, and starving for it. Watching because you quite literally can’t do anything else, sights burned into your eyes. Unable to look away. Unable to keep watching.
You don't know what they want from you.
You don’t think you want to, anymore.
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Satoru and Suguru are getting impatient.
No, Suguru is getting impatient. Satoru is getting desperate. It was his idea to start going out and finding girls to bring back and fuck.
It wasn’t particularly difficult between the two of them. And promising, at first – after all, what was more likely to get you to snap than watching – hearing – the two of them give some other girl everything you’ve ever wanted on a silver platter?
But you just keep going. Gritting your teeth and bearing with it. Suguru spent a whole week dislodging your vibrator slightly from its charging port, slowly squeezing your lube bottle empty, doing everything he could to drive you to the brink.
Satoru’s starting to remark how much it’s a waste of time. He gets snippy when he’s needy, and lately, Suguru’s cock just isn’t enough for him. He has to go through your laundry, plant a camera in your bedroom on one of those few nights they stay out late enough to give you some private time.
Satoru makes him wear your clothes when Suguru fucks him, lets Suguru gag him with your panties when it’s the other way around.
They play dress-up together and watch you touch yourself at awkward angles with muddied sound quality. It’s not enough, not nearly enough.
Privately, Suguru is a little worried. Satoru’s getting weird – not that he hasn’t always been. But weirder.
He goes right into the bathroom after every time you use it. He’s always quick to reach your drinks for a “taste test” after you’ve had a sip. And Suguru knows for a fact Satoru isn’t using his own toothbrush at night.
He keeps talking about you. Looking at you. Whispering dirty suggestions in his ears, asking impatiently if you look like you’re going to snap.
Satoru is needy like that, demanding, and you’d always balanced him out while helping Suguru relax.
But there’s a distance now that wasn’t there before. The tension builds and builds, needs unmet for so long that desperation is clawing at both of them.
And that’s to say nothing of his own desires. Satoru, for all his faults, still has self-control.
Suguru passes your door every night and stops for a moment. He serves you dinner with a smile, domestic as he is, and thinks how easy it would be to slip something in there. To make sure you’d sleep through the night.
Would it even matter if you didn’t? You let him get away with so much. You love him, you must love him, don’t you? There’s no other reason you would put up with all of this. If he did slip, you’d forgive him, wouldn’t you? You’d drink up all his honeyed words with the same smile you always gave him.
But if he gave you such a convenient excuse, then he would always doubt. Whether you really loved him or if he just made it convenient to love him.
More importantly, you’re looking at them different. It was good, at first; your pretty eyes darting in a different direction, the way you try to hide your face, keep your words especially cool.
 They want you to TAKE what you want. Want you yelling and screaming and scratching them up like the hellcat they know you are, deep down.
“How long,” He whines between groans as Geto works between his legs, fingering him as he sucks his cock, “Is she gonna make us wait – fuck!”
Suguru pulls away with a pop. Saliva and precum dripping from his lips. Satoru pulls him in for a kiss, by the hair.
“You know she’s liked me a while,” Suguru murmurs, swallowing a moan or two as he works another finger into his hole. “She’s scared of pushing me away. And now that you’re my boyfriend, she probably wouldn’t want to break us up.”
“Fuck, but imagine if she did.” Satoru bucks into him, “She wants us, I know she does.”
He’s always so needy, like a puppy. Suguru likes it, but he can admit that he wants you, too. Misses the energy you’d provide. You’re not demanding like Satoru is. Too prideful. Satoru’s shameless. But you want, oh, do you ever want, and they both do know it.
Once he’s stretched Satoru out enough, he wastes no time shoving him onto his belly, burying himself in his hole from behind – “Fuck! Suguru!”
“On it right now,” He purrs, close to Satoru’s back, reaching lazily for his cock.
Satoru doesn’t like to cum too soon anyways. He likes to cum from getting fucked, to be edged into oblivion – or he likes going hard and fast and overstimulated to no end. Not much in between, unless he was the one in charge.
“Imagine it,” He pants like a dog beneath him. He’s pretty, so pretty, and the only thing Suguru could imagine that would be better is to see your face looking up at him from underneath Satoru, “Suguru!”
He grunts, thrusting his hips harder, “Imagining. What am I imagining?” God, Satoru’s a slut and a nuisance, but it’s always been worth it to indulge him.
“Her,” Satoru breathes after a particularly hard thrust, “Trying to break us up.”
Suguru grabs his hips for better leverage. Satoru dirty talks best when he’s getting fucked hard, after all.
“Fuck, imagine if she got me drunk or something, hngh, finally followed through on those fuck-me eyes she’s always giving me, ghhgh, fuck yes like that, and. Just fucked me in our room, waiting for you to walk in on us together.”
And he can see it, picture it so well.
A drunk night with the most beautiful man alive, because that’s what Satoru is; pretty even now, beneath him, all sweat and lean body trembling as he gets utterly railed.
You’ve always had the attraction, and Satoru couldn’t handle his liquor, and all the sudden, you’d slept together.
“Would you – ah, ahHhh, would you get mad, Suguru?” His voice is teasing now, even through the groans and utterances, “Would you cry~?”
“Ha!” He half-chokes out the laugh, because Satoru clenches around him and it’s hard not to cum right away. He’s going to leave bruises from how hard he’s holding those narrow, lovely hips.
“No," Suguru grinds out, "But I’m sure you both would. She’s the type, and you’re so fucking – gah, so fucking needy. What would you want me to do? Forgive you?”
His pace slows down, and he reaches to squeeze his cock in return, just for a taste.
“Nah – fuck! Yes, keep doing that, fuck.” Satoru bucks into his touch, always, always chasing after him, “She’s too fucking nice all the time. If she did it, it would be – hnng – like. A revenge thing. She should be fucking mad already, pissed off. She should make me cum inside her, say she’s pregnant. Make me dump you and marry her, so if she can’t have you, nobody can.”
Suguru barks out a laugh at the concept, and then a moan, choked off as he feels the heat shooting through him at the idea.
You’re too nice, like Satoru says, it’s a laughable concept, you acting like this –
But what had he seen in your eyes that day after you caught them both with that girl?
“Fuck, I swear I feel you twitching inside me – ”
“What would you do, then?” Suguru purrs hotly into his ear, “You want to win her heart while you’re married?”
“Well, we’d fuck all the time,” Satoru wheezes out a giggle, trembling as Suguru’s hand slides along his cock, “Fuck you – haaaahhh. But I’d be making nice with her, being a good husband, and then you could come and have an affair – ”
Fuck, fuck, that’s too much, “Close,” He grunts, driving himself deep and hard, chasing the edge, “Fuck, I could tell her I love her, blackmail her, even – threaten to tell you.”
A groan as Satoru gets closer, and Suguru continues, “I could fuck her, leave her coming home to you full of my cum – ”
“I’d eat it out of her,” Satoru laughs, near deranged as he jerks between fucking back into Suguru and rutting into his hand, “Jerk me off already – ah, fuck, what if you got her pregnant – ”
White-hot, like the idea of your face beneath him, both of them, accepting them with an open heart full of rage and bitterness and lust, Suguru cums.
He’s just aware enough to fist Satoru’s cock, sliding harshly along it until he hears the lovely whore beneath him gasping, twitching, spilling in his hand.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” Satoru whimpers. “Hnghh… god, just the idea of her coming home from the hospital with a black-haired baby.”
“Fuck you,” Suguru barks, because now he wants to cum inside you. He wants, so, so fucking bad to cum inside you.
But god, do you even want them?
You sit there, all day, looking away, running away. That’s not love, is it?
And he’s a romantic, at heart. Satoru is, too. They don’t want anything less than your whole heart. Your entire life, your mind, body, and soul, dedicated to them the way they are to each other. Mad with jealousy and rage and possession.
Satoru had left him with bruises, the day he found out Suguru was crushing on you. When Suguru told him, in no uncertain terms, that he’s been wanted you for over a decade now and he wasn’t leaving before he got you. Blue fury in his eyes, heart twisting in his chest.
He’d looked him in the eye, grin wild and wide. Staring down as he has him pinned. Suguru had raised his knee up between his legs to find his cock desperately hard and throbbing.
“I want to fuck her first,” had been his wicked demand. Pain and pleasure traded like currency in return for love, each of them furious at the other for wanting you. They reaped the cost of their love on each other, settled their scores deep in their souls.
Because even if Suguru had seen you first, could he really say he’d wanted you first? Did he really want to fuck you before Satoru moved in, before he saw you flustered from your attraction and playfully trading banter with Satoru?
Had he wanted Satoru because you wanted Satoru? Had Satoru wanted him because he could see that you did?
Lines cross and uncross between you and the two of them, too tangled to ever unravel.
Time to tighten the knot.
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yanderenightmare · 2 months ago
Text
Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru
♡ TW: fear, prank, prank gone too far, dubcon-ish
♡ GN reader
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“Haha, ‘Toru—nice try,” is all you say to the tall figure, having stood patiently in wait and perfectly positioned to do a jump scare with his silly store-bought Ghostface mask on.
You sigh and go back to your dealings, and he remains as if the gist isn’t up—ever-committed to the task as if you’re suddenly going to forget that it’s him. Like—of course, it’s him! Despite what the movies will have you believe, not a lot of guys have bodies like that.
If he was really committed to tricking you, he should have worn something baggier to hide his perfectly shredded chest. But no—he’s set on wearing his black muscle shirt—probably opting to make you both scared and horny at the same time.
You carry on with what you’d been doing—cleaning up the kitchen. “Oi, quit standing there already and come help me.”
He doesn’t. But that’s not unlike him—he’ll take any excuse not to do the dishes. And right now, the excuse is this dumb prank. But it’s your fault in any case—you’re the one that put him up to it by saying he’d never be able to get a rise out of you.
You sigh and scold yourself for being so short-sighted—should’ve kept my dumb mouth shut. Knowing him, he’s probably going to be this way all through October, the insufferable prick.
He still stands there. Silent. And still. Eerily unlike him. And almost, just almost, utterly unlike him.
But no—don’t be stupid! He’s the same height and the same build, for fuck’s sake! What are the odds of someone with the exact same measurements as your boyfriend breaking in right at the time he isn’t around in something so cliche and dumb as a Ghostface replica? No, it stinks of Satoru—it’s got his goofy antics written all over it.
You scoff again—a little winded this time, a little strained. You have to hand it to him—he is a little scary when he shuts up for this long.
“You can knock it off, Satoru. I know it’s you.” You face him again, hand on your hip, with a frown. 
You sigh again when he still doesn’t answer, insisting on his stupid tactic of psyching you out. And you’re getting pissed that it’s actually almost working.
“Ugh, you’re so stupid.” You start stomping over—aiming to rip that dumb thing off his head and point your death glare directly in his insufferable blue eyes—those insufferable blue eyes you’re actually starting to hope are under there more than knowing without a doubt are there for sure. 
“Tch—it’s insulting if you think some half-assed performance like this is gonna be enough to scare me. At least have the creativity to come up with something somewhat decent–”
You stop in your tracks halfway over. Hair is peaking out from under the mask. You hadn’t seen it from afar, matted against the black shirt he was wearing—but how could you? How could you when it’s not white hair?
You flinch backward. Stumbling. Assessing the dark, silken locks a second time before looking up at the mask again—that soulless white warped skull with pitch-black bottomless eyesockets.
You take another step back. Breath hitching in your throat when the figure takes a step as well—toward you.
Your heart flares. It’s not Satoru.
Eyes peeled, you feel the panic overthrow you in an instant—like a cold rush, reaching all the way into your bonemarrow, making it hard to move, hard to do much of anything without feeling vulnerable to what it might trigger.
But once the figure pulls his hand out from behind his back, brandishing a butcher’s knife that catches the light and glints in the air—you have no other choice but to run.
What a perfect fucking day to wear fuzzy fucking socks! Fucking October cold is going to be the reason you die—stabbed to death in your own house by some cringey Scream fanboy. No—this can’t be the end—not this way! Why isn’t Satoru home yet? Why can’t he ever be where you need him to be?
You make your way through the house—hoping to reach the door, but turning the corner has you slip and fall, and the intruder’s on you—knife raised, poised prettily in the air above your helpless body, clad in your tiny heart-print pj’s—like the perfect hot airhead in any slasher spoof.
You scream and squeeze your eyes shut, “No! No—please! Please! Satoru, help!”
And right as the knife is supposed to come down and puncture your chest, making it spurt out red until you finally bleed out, dead and gone, there’s a bang instead as two palms land flat on the floor on either side of your head.
Joined by a muffled voice, “Are yah scared yet?”
With your eyes wide open again, you look up at not one mask blocking out the ceiling light but two. And with all the pure alarm savaging your chest, you manage to let out a real horror-movie squeal—unlike a sound you’ve ever made before.
And then, of all things, there’s laughter—no, not laughter—straight cackling.
And—fortunately or unfortunately—you’re quite sure you recognize that sound.
The last one pulls off his mask, and you really can’t believe it—pretty porcelain face squished in amusement with tears of joy in the corner of his insufferable blue eyes.
That fucking bitch.
“You should have seen your face!” he chortles—downright heaves. But for all his handsome features, he truly must be the ugliest laugher there is. Or maybe it’s just that the bastard always laughs at your expense, and after one too many times, it’s left a bad taste in your mouth.
Still, you sigh, eyes closed in relief, “I hate you, ‘Toru. You took it way too far, you ass.”
“No, no, Satoru, help~” he ignores you and mocks in a high-pitched moan, showing not a sign of remorse—holding his hand over his stomach as he falls to the floor, struggling to leave room for breath between hooting and howling.
Your eyes go to the original perpetrator. “And you? You proud or what?”
The wearer pulls off its mask and is revealed to be none other than Satoru’s best friend—Geto.
Honestly, you should have fucking known...
“Sorry, hehe…”
You’re upset—you make that clear with your pout, giving him your best guilt-tripping look from where you rest beneath him.
But still, within, your heart eases at the sight of his kind face and that apologetic smile across it—ever thankful to see him and not the cold-blooded murderer you were convinced was going to kill you only a moment ago—even when pinned beneath him in a position that should be making Satoru jealous.
But your boyfriend couldn’t care less, it seems—too busy rolling on the floor and laughing out loud quite literally, even banging his fist against the wood. Prick.
“I’m gonna throw up–” you say as the nerves finally settle. “And when I’m done, I’m gonna kill you. Both of you.”
Geto seems to think that’s fair, still with that sheepish smile on his face, but Satoru is quick to interject—laughing fit over as he shakes his head, “Nuh-uh. You said if I manage to scare you once this Halloween, I’d get whatever I want.”
You swear he can be such a child sometimes.
Oh, who are you kidding? He’s always a child. It’s only surprising he’s managed to rope Geto into all this—a guy who’s usually so mature.
“I don’t remember saying that…” you sigh, laying the back of your hand atop your forehead, still calming your breaths and the pounding in your head—your body not yet caught up to the fact that it’s trepidation over impending death was all just some silly joke played on you by two idiots.
You can’t believe him—you can’t believe either of them.
“Fucking shit, Geto—I thought I was gonna die.”
He still hasn’t gotten off you—the look of worry on his face tells you he’s probably just wanting to stay close to make you feel safe. You appreciate it, though it’s a little awkward lying beneath him like this—it’s not exactly a position you share with just anyone…
“Honestly, I didn’t think it would work,” he says—eyes slim like always, in that charming way. “I always thought you were smarter than to fall for something this stupid.”
You pull a frown at that—taking it all back. He’s as childish and dumb as Satoru is. He’s just better at hiding it. 
“Oh, shut up—as if you wouldn’t scream if someone chased you down with a knife,” you grumble. “Now get off, you prick.”
You begin to lift yourself onto your elbows, yet despite the clear intention of getting up, Geto doesn’t budge to make it happen.
No, instead, he leans further in—fine-kempt raven hair slipping off his shoulders, falling with the same grace as a veil.
“I was told there’d be a prize for the one that got you to crack, and seeing as I’m the one that made that happen—I want it.”
You have to blink—blanched at the sudden demand.
Satoru, as well, a little stunned—looks wide-eyed at the two of you, upside down where he lies flat on his back, long limbs stretched out like a starfish.
“You what now?” both of you ask in unison.
Geto chuckles before repeating, “My prize. I want it. It’s only fair,” as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
Satoru rolls over onto his stomach to view you both the right way, pursing his lips in thought. “Hmm…” Hand on his chin as if it’s really something to deliberate when the dumbass very well knows what the two of you had bet on and how it very much isn’t a reward you can give to just anyone.
Yet, despite that. “Okay,” he agrees—as if it’s even up to him.
“Hold on now, wait a minute.” You intervene in the almost business-esque dealing they’d somehow held without you. "Not happening.”
“Why not?” they both ask, looking at you. 
And you can’t keep from gaping. The nerve.
Spluttering as you explain, “Because it’s—well, because it was a bet between me and my dumbass boyfriend, and it was very clear what the prize was gonna be, come winner or loser—so, sorry to break it to you, but there is no prize.”
But that doesn’t seem to deter Geto. “Oh, I think there is…” he all but purrs as he leans down further.
“Satoru already agreed. And you’re already on your back beneath me.”
His smile isn’t all so friendly anymore, and still… you can’t help but blush being caught beneath it, holding your breath with fear a little different from the one before but no different in how it makes your heart pound.
“So, if neither of you mind…" he grins slyly. "I think I’ll just take it.” 
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♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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madamechrissy · 3 months ago
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Gojo can't stop thinking about fucking Geto's girl
MDNI- Explicit Yandere Gojo jerks off thinking about you, Geto's girlfriend
Part 2>>>
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Part One
Satoru Gojo is thinking of you, Suguru's pretty girlfriend, as he's taking a break in his office, locking his door, pulling out the pretty picture he stole from Suguru's phone of you. You're laying on the bed in nothing but a little garter belt and stockings, fuck it's his favorite, how many times has he stroked himself to it?
He's picturing being between those thighs, having your cum pour all down his lips, while he unzips his dress pants, his cock already straining against his boxers. By the time he releases his cock, precum is dripping out of his pretty pink tip. Fuck, imagine your tongue lapping it up, as you look at him with those eyes.
His head leans back against his office chair, that huge leather one you'd look so pretty in, or perhaps on his desk, bent over, your ass in the air. He scrolls to the next picture he has, one he took of your ass under your skirt. He probably shouldn't have, but he needed a good picture of it, to picture his hand print, as he fucks you so good you're drooling all over that polished cherry wood.
Satoru moans softly as he pumps his cock, up and down, swirling his hand and shutting his gorgeous blue eyes, his white lashes fluttering shut, pretty pink lips parted. Imagine pumping into you, no it would be wetter, wouldn't it? He spits on his cock once, twice, three times, using the white bubbly liquid with his precum, huge hands stroking his veiny cock, imagining that perfect pussy.
"F-fuck... you're so tight, aren't you? Oh, am I too big? You can take it, can't you, brat?" He whispers, as he keeps pumping, picturing railing you right here, picturing your moans, your cries.
He shouldn't think of his best friend's girl, he knows it, but you're all he can think of, now he's pinching that tip, and more precum is pouring out, little pearly white drops, he'd grab that hair of yours and pull it, arch your back, pressing that ass out for him. As he beats your pretty pussy up, he's getting closer and closer now, stroking faster, little whines from his throat as he whispers your name.
Fuck your name sounds good on his lips.
Satoru starts cumming then, picturing filling you up so full, so full your stomach is pumped, cum dripping down your pretty pussy, feeling you throb around his cock. He'd fill you over and over, until you're dripping for days, until he bred you, babies in your tummy, over and over. Keep you pregnant, keep you at his home, fuck you on every surface. His cum is spilling out as he moans, white streams all over his cock, his hand.
He winces, shaking at how intense it was, then he hears a knock on his door. Panicking, he quickly wipes himself up, putting his pants back on and clearing his throat. He opens the door, slicking back his white hair, and it's you. Fuck you look so pretty in your little sundress, perfect for him to raise up and fuck you, isn't it?
But Suguru is right behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, making Satoru roll his eyes. "Hey Satoru! Missed you!" You hug him then, your perfect breasts pressing against him, fuck if he's not hard again, as Suguru walks in your office.
"Missed you I guess." Satoru grumbles, making you giggle, and he's just picturing cumming all over your gorgeous face and-
"The fuck, Satoru!?" Comes Suguru's voice then, and you both turn to look, as Suguru Geto is holding up the phone, with the naked picture he stole.
Well, shit.
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Disclaimer I guess- Yandere behavior isn't cool IRL, just in fiction with Gojo and Geto lmaoo <3
Part 2
Full Gojo fics of mine: Cruel Duke Gojo story here - Sweet Lawyer Gojo here -Psycho Yandere Gojo here - Cocky CEO Gojo here - Gojo Drabbles - Oneshots
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saintkaylaa · 10 months ago
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pretending you forgot them…
(ft. choso, kento, satoru, suguru, toge, megumi, yuji, & yuta)
warnings: cursing, sexual comments, yandere!yuta, f!reader
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– choso
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– kento
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– satoru
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– suguru
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– toge
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– megumi
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– yuji
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– yuta
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appleblueberry-pie · 11 months ago
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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's
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A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.
SCENARIO:
"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."
You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.
"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."
You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.
"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."
YANDERE REACTIONS:
Sukuna:
Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?
He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.
He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.
Kento:
Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.
But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.
"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.
Suguru:
"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.
"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?
"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.
"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.
Choso:
Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.
He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.
Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.
He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.
He hates this park.
"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"
Toji:
Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.
No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.
You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.
He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.
Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.
Satoru:
Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.
He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."
Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.
He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.
"Satoru??"
He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.
He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.
"Satoru!"
Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.
Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."
No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.
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kekewrites · 5 months ago
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Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read
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Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.
You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.
Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.
Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.
Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.
College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".
Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.
Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.
But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.
So what's a good way to relieve tension?
Some good ol' fleshlight.
The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.
It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.
***
You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.
You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.
You're scared.
The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.
What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?
Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.
***
Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.
He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.
He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.
Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.
***
You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.
Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.
But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.
Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.
No way...
Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.
This can't be happening.
You felt the thick thing stretch you open.
***
Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.
With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.
He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.
But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.
He sheath inside in one thrust.
Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?
Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.
His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.
He wonder if he can break the toy.
***
With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.
Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.
Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?
Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.
And it snaps.
Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.
Ah. You never felt this... good before.
It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.
You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.
... you wonder what it was.
***
After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.
He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.
You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.
"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.
"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.
His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.
"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"
You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."
***
You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.
You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...
But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...
Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.
You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.
No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.
You need help. Badly.
You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.
***
"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.
You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."
He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."
Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.
He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.
By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.
You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.
Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.
***
He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.
Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?
He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.
"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.
You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."
He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.
"O-ok... I trust you."
Dumb little girl.
You shouldn't have said that.
Now you've sealed your fate.
***
He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.
He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.
Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.
He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?
He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.
An onahole...
If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,
He's not that picky too.
This'll do for him.
A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.
6K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 8 months ago
Text
Title: Till The Water Boils Over Or The Frog Drowns.
Pairing: Yan!Gojo x Reader x Yan!Geto (JJK).
Word Count: 5.8k.
TW: No Curses AU, Dub/Con -> Non/Con (Revoked Consent), Fem!Reader, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Kidnapping, Financial Abuse, Psychological Abuse, Infantilization, Spanking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Forced Codependency. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
[Part Two]
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It started the day Satoru first introduced the concept of ‘time out’ to your relationship.
He was immature and you were stubborn. You loved him, but without Suguru’s even temper and calming presence, sparks tended to fly in a way that left you at each other’s throats. With your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed, you’d watched him sigh, roll his eyes, and storm out of your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You gave yourself a second, then another – sucking in a shallow breath and shutting your eyes, talking yourself through all your usual cool-down methods. You were supposed to go out, tonight, to a restaurant you and Satoru had both been talking about for weeks. You still had about an hour before Suguru was supposed to get home, before you were all supposed to leave together. It wasn’t a good day to fight, even if you knew Suguru would smooth everything over as soon as he got home.
When you were done, you moved to the bedroom door. One hour was plenty of time to talk things out. One hour was plenty of time to kiss and make up, even if you would hold a grudge for a—
You pushed gently on the door. It didn’t budge.
You tried the knob. It turned, but the door still didn’t open.
You pressed your shoulder into the wood, shoving with more force than you ever should’ve had to use. Something shifted – a chair slotted underneath the handle, Satoru’s back leaning against the other side of the thin wood – but didn’t give.
The frustration you’d only just managed to suppress resurfaced immediately. Still pressed against your side of the door, you called out, attempting to keep your tone soft, light. “Satoru? Baby?”
 The sweetness in his voice was equally artificial. “I’m right here, angel.”
“I—I think the door might be jammed.” You tried the knob again, rattling the metal for emphasis. Satoru only hummed in response, and you grimaced. “Are you gonna let me out, ‘toru? I really don’t have time to be—”
“Ninety minutes.”
“…ninety minutes?”
“Ninety minutes,” he repeated. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “After that, we can check and see if you’re still feelin’ so bratty.”
You were almost thankful there was a door between you. If it hadn’t been there, you might not have been able to stop yourself from throttling him. “Satoru, I really don’t have time to—”
There was an obnoxiously loud hum, the sound of footsteps moving down the hall. You groaned, resting your forehead against the cool wood. Whatever. He was being petty, again. You could do ninety minutes. And, even if you couldn’t, he’d probably be back in ten, tail between his legs and pouting for your attention.
You quickly resigned yourself to passing the time as quickly as possible. You laid face-down on your bed, bemoaning your taste in men and picturing all the ways you could break up with Satoru, once he let you out. You scrolled through your phone, spamming Suguru with half-coherent messages and memes from the very depths of your camera roll. You re-organized your closet, sorting your clothes by color and alphabetizing your shoes. You managed to read a full page of one of the bulky historical fiction novels Suguru kept on the bedside table before deciding you’d be better off breaking up with both your current boyfriends.
You checked the time when you were done, and discovered that you’d managed to kill a whopping fifteen minutes.
God, you were so fucked.
Only half-consciously, you gravitated back to the door, slumping against it. You opened your mouth, ready to call out to Satoru and say whatever you had to say to get out, but another voice cut in before you got the chance. “Baby?”
Suguru. He must’ve gotten back early. You let out a shallow sigh, letting your head fall forward in relief. “Right here,” you said, making no effort to hide your exasperation. “Can you open the door? I think ‘toru blocked me in.”
His deep chuckle was muffled, but still clearly audible. “I’m afraid I can’t. He’s still pretty mad, couldn’t stop talking about how you copped an attitude with him.” There was a pause, a shoulder being rested against the other side of the door. “I think he mentioned something about a dress?”
You were glad he couldn’t see you – he would’ve hated the way you grimaced at the reminder. “It’s a nice restaurant. I wanted to dress up a little, but he’s just so immature, and when he saw the dress I wanted to wear—”
Suguru cut in. “The red one, right?”
“Yeah, with the window on the chest.” You sighed. “Please, Suguru? I really don’t want to spend the next hour of my life locked in my own bedroom.”
Another laugh, this one more stifled than the first. “He just knows how pretty you’d look, babe. Probably doesn’t want anyone else to find out how beautiful our partner is.” When you didn’t respond, he added, “Didn’t he just buy you somethin’ brand new? He can’t complain if he’s the one who picked it out, right?”
You pursed your lips. He had – a pure ivory dress, a little shorter than mid-thigh and sleeveless, not exactly conservative, but not meant to show as much skin as you usually preferred to. It’d come with matching gold jewelry, and you’d politely accepted the gift, kissed him on the cheek, and stashed it under your bed to rot. It wasn’t ugly, nothing so expensive could be, but it suited Satoru’s tastes, not yours.
“I don’t know,” you muttered, trying to soften the harsher edges of your distaste. “You know how Satoru is. Everything he picks out is just so—so him.”
“I’m starting to think you both might be causing problems.” You kicked the base of the door, but Suguru didn’t indulge your outburst with acknowledgement. “Just try it on, alright? If it’s that bad, we can always go without him.”
It took another minute or so of condoling, but soon enough, you were slipping into Satoru’s gifted dress, cursing as you struggled with the tiny, finicky zipper and smoothed wrinkles out of abused silk. You pulled your fingers through your hair once before returning to the bedroom door and knocking defeatedly. As if to add insult to injury, the door swung open in an instant, a smiling Suguru waiting on the threshold.
“See? Absolutely gorgeous, as always.” He leaned forward, cupping your cheek. You let his lips brush over your forehead before pulling away. Thankfully, he wasn’t cruel enough to draw it out any longer – his hand falling to yours and taking it up, tugging you gently towards the living room. “Satoru’s going to forget he was ever mad at all as soon as he sees you.”
You didn’t bother responding, only slumping against his side and letting him guide you forward. Distantly, you heard Suguru calling out to Satoru, but you were already busy – too occupied promising yourself that this would never, ever happen again to care what either of them was saying.
You would, of course, be wrong.
~
Barricaded doors quickly became a weekly inconvenience. You and Satoru fought often (never intensely and never for very long, but often), and he owned the apartment – meaning, despite all your whining, you couldn’t exactly tell him that his doors couldn’t all lock from the outside. Your ‘cool-down sessions’ (Suguru’s words, not yours) lasted anywhere from twenty minutes to a couple of hours, and Suguru was always the one to let you out. When you couldn’t be locked up and left to stew, Satoru would take it upon himself to leave the apartment – if only for as long as he thought it would take for you to forget you’d argued at all. You got used to it quickly. It wasn’t fair, you didn’t enjoy it, but you got used to it. You’d always had more patience than you really should’ve, when it came to Satoru’s antics.
And then, Suguru started showering with you.
Finding time to spend together was an ever-present obstacle in your relationship. Satoru alternated sporadically between planning lectures and grading papers late into the night to rolling his eyes at the concept of due dates and dulling out extra credit on a whim, and trying to guess if Suguru would be free was a pursuit in futility – his sermons were scheduled, but he was almost always being called out on some mysterious errand on behalf of one of his countless, faceless apostles. You didn’t work at all, but you went to school, and you kept yourself busy. You’d never be as busy as Satoru and Suguru, but you did your best to keep up with them.
Currently, you were basking in the afterglow with Suguru, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Satoru was already gone, rushed off to some early-morning lecture, but Suguru didn’t have anything to do, and you—well, you could miss a lecture or two if it meant spending time with him. And, even if you couldn’t, it was hard to imagine tearing yourself away from the feeling of his calloused fingers tracing aimless patterns into the small of your back, of his lips pushing warm, open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your collarbone, your throat. His hands drifted to your hips, grip tightening ever-so-slightly, and you felt a raspy groan reverberate against the side of your neck, Suguru pulling you close as he—
“Save it,” you said, drawing back. He pouted and you grinned, pecking the corner of his jaw and sitting up, letting his sheets pool around your waist. “Just for a few minutes – I feel gross.” A full groan, this time. You laughed, combing his disheveled hair back and pressing another kiss into his forehead, this one lingering just a beat longer than the first. “You’ll survive a shower, Suguru.”
You felt him shift underneath you. Before you had a chance to pull away, he was sitting up, his arms still around your waist – keeping you messily laid across his lap. “I’ll come with you.”
“You’ll wait your turn.” And then, when he only hummed in response, “I’m being serious. Somebody in this relationship has to wash their hair every now and then.”
His face was already buried in the crook of your neck, and he was moving toward the edge of the mattress with your body still tucked against his chest. He was planning on carrying you, presumably. Sometimes, it felt like if it were up to Suguru, you’d never walk anywhere on your own again. “I know.” His voice was still raspy with sleep, his usual articulation weighed down by the fatigue that came with a morning spent in bed. “I’ll help.”
“That’s really sweet, but—” You strung your arms around his neck as he stood up, taking you with him. “—I think I’ll be alright on my own, Suguru.”
For the first time all morning, his eyes flickered open, wandering idly in your direction. He held your gaze for a beat, then another.
Finally, the edge of his lips quirked upward – the sly, knowing grin you’d fallen in love with soon painted across his lips. When he spoke, it was in a tone to match, all confidence and cloying, calculated sweetness. “No.”
You faltered, at that. “…no?”
“Don’t wanna be away from you for that long,” he mumbled, by way of explanation. “Whatever you need to do, I’ll take care of. Don’t want you to have to worry your pretty little head over anything.”
You tried your best to laugh, but it was a weak effort, better left unacknowledged. “I don’t know how I feel about my boyfriend offering to, I don’t know, shave my legs or something.”
He only soldiered on, as if you hadn’t said anything at all.
~
You felt Satoru’s hands on your waist first, then his chest against your back. His mouth found the curve of your throat as if by instinct, teeth grazing against a bruise Suguru had left in the same spot the day before. You felt him lean against you and dropped the knife you were holding onto a nearby cutting board, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter to compensate.
You glanced over your shoulder as his head bowed, face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. He must’ve just gotten home – he was still wearing his sunglasses, only the first three buttons on his shirt undone. You grinned, twisting around just far enough to kiss the top of his head before turning back to your ingredients. “Rough lecture?”
“Grad students,” he muttered, the dread in his voice plainly audible. “One more fucking extension request, and I swear, I’ll fail the entire class.”
You hummed, letting him sink further into you. You might’ve let him stay there, too, if one of his hands hadn’t fallen to your ass while the other slipped underneath your loose shirt. Before he could creep upward, you jabbed an elbow into his chest. “Keep it in your pants. You still smell like a college campus.”
Of course, he didn’t budge. “But I missed you,” he whined, as shameless as he was clingy. “I had to leave so early, and I was stuck in my office for so long, and I’m gonna die if I have to wait any longer. Is that what you want? For me to die?”
“You could always go to Suguru, if you’re that insatiable.”
“But I want you.” You felt a thumb slip below the waistband of your sweatpants (or, Suguru’s sweatpants, technically – he’d been unbearable unless you were wearing his clothes, recently) and batted his hand away. Your efforts were, predictably, unsuccessful. “Please, baby?” And then, after a beat. “You don’t care about dinner more than you care about me, do you?”
You felt something delicate inside of you falter, crack, then fall apart entirely. It was strange – how long you could nurse a wound without acknowledging it existed at all. “It’s not that, I just—” You stuttered, then stopped entirely. You deflated underneath Satoru’s weight, and as if in response, he held you that much tighter, keeping you as close as you could be, lest he carve open his chest and force you into the open cavity. “I… I guess I feel like I haven’t really been doing a lot for you two, lately. You pay all the bills, and Suguru goes out of his way to take care of me, and there just… It makes me feel kind of useless.” You tried to punctuate the confession with a smile, a laugh, but both were hollow beyond the point of recognizability. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t tried at all. “You get it, right? I just—I don’t want to be the only one not doing anything.”
There was a beat of silence. You felt Satoru settle against you, his chest pressing into your back before he pulled away, detaching from you entirely. You sighed, letting yourself relax.
And then, just as suddenly, you were off of your feet and in Satoru’s arm, one tucked under the bend of your knees while the other supported your back. You managed a stammered, half-coherent protest, but if Satoru was listening, he wasn’t bothered.
He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, your half-finished recipe forgotten in favor of dropping you onto the nearest couch and kneeling over you, already pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Sounds like our baby’s been thinkin’ too much.” He was grinning, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “Let me put a stop to that.”
You opened your mouth, but you didn’t have time to respond. His mouth was already crashing into yours; swallowing down anything you might’ve said and replacing it with a breathy moan, a haze over your conscious thoughts.
You didn’t bother trying to talk your way out from underneath Satoru, again.
~
You couldn’t breathe.
It took you a moment to realize what was wrong, another to put together why. You felt the blunt tip of Suguru’s cock hit the back of your throat as Satoru’s chest pressed into yours, the latter pressing the air out of your lungs while the former forced you to choke what little was left up. Satoru had set a relentless pace; his thrusts brutal, his tempo erratic, his hips crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. Two of Suguru’s thick, calloused fingers were lodged between your body and Satoru’s drawing quick, precise patterns into your clit, while both of Satoru’s hands were wrapped around the underside of your thighs, keeping your knees pinned to your chest, your body folded in half and pressed into the mattress. They’d always been taller than you, with Suguru kneeling by your head and Satoru looming over you, they both seemed so much bigger. They both seemed so, so much stronger than they ever had before.
You couldn’t breathe. The lack of oxygen was already rushing to your head, already replacing your sense of logic with a shrill, panicked buzz. Your body hurt everywhere they touched it, the warmth pooling in your core and arousal left behind by previous climaxes not enough to dull the sharp sting of Satoru’s nails against your skin, not enough to soften the harsh edge of the grin you could only barely see spread across Suguru’s lips out of the corner of your eye. It was a struggle just to move your jaw, and even then, any sounds you were able to make were borderline incoherent – your little chants of ‘red, red, red’ so stifled and so garbled by Suguru’s cock that you couldn’t have blamed him for not hearing you at all. It was only when you tried to pull your head back that his eyes fell away from where Satoru’s cock was fucking into your dripping cunt and to your face, tears of distress already beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. You let out one more panicked cry, hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to see the fear in your expression and know something was wrong, but that grin you had loved so much only widened, sharpened. “Like that, princess?” You felt his free hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair while the patterns being pushed into your sensitive clit sped up, intensified. “Faster,” he cooed to Satoru, his voice laced with something vicious and mocking. “If she can still cry, she can still fuck.”
He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. Suguru just liked to be mean in bed, and Satoru liked to indulge him. That was the only reason they were doing this to you, that was the only reason Satoru listened; leaning that much more of his weight onto as his cock beat against the walls of your cunt. “Fuck,” Satoru muttered, as Suguru’s cock twitched against the roof of your mouth. “Got tighter when you said that. Is that what you want? For me and him to fuck you unconscious?”
This time, you didn’t try to pull back, you jerked – lurching out of Suguru’s hold, drawing back until you could gasp and pant and fill your aching lungs. “Red,” you half-choked, half-cried. “Red, red, stop, too much, I can’t—”
Satoru cut you off with a throat groan. You felt his form tense against yours, heard a shameless moan spill past his lips, and suddenly, it was like you’d forgotten how to breathe entirely. “Too close for that,” he muttered, his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “You can take it for me, angel.”
You couldn’t, but you didn’t have time to tell him that. You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to spit out was a keening, pitiful whine as you felt something deep in your core pull taut and snap, as your cunt clenched around him and you came undone on Satoru’s cock for the nth time. At the same time, he went stiffed above you, forcing his hips flush with yours and filling your abused pussy with something thick and searing. The feeling was alien, strange. You could’ve sworn he said he would wear a condom, tonight.
It felt like you laid there for a small eternity – trapped under Satoru’s limp body, Suguru still petting idly through your hair. You stared unblinkingly at the ceiling until, days later, Satoru pulled himself upright with a raspy grunt, turning to Suguru. You were vaguely aware of his head being lowered into Suguru’s lap, moving to finish the job you hadn’t wanted to, but that seemed distant, unimportant. The room was too small, too closed-off. You weren’t getting enough air. You were too warm. You were too small. You—
You needed to leave.
Your body was on the edge of the mattress before your mind could make the conscious decision to move. You were shaking, despite the damp humidity clinging to your skin, but you tried to ignore that and focus on getting your feet underneath you, on fishing Satoru’s shirt off the floor and pulling it over your head. You’d need pants, too, and your wallet – maybe you’d still have a little cash stowed away, something from before Satoru insisted you start carrying one of his platinum cards. You’d spend the night in a hotel, or better yet, rent a car – get out of Tokyo altogether. You had a friend who lived outside of the city – or, you used to, at least. You couldn’t remember the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru and Suguru.
You made it to the doorway before Suguru called out. “Going somewhere, princess?”
You froze, but didn’t look over your shoulder. You could barely stand. You needed to go. “I just—I think I need a little air.”
“Give us a minute. Me or ‘toru should go with you.” There was a lull to his voice, an airiness just barely audible over the slick, sloppy sound of Satoru’s mouth moving over his shaft. You could remember admiring that about him, once, constantly thinking about how lucky you were to have such a cool, confident boyfriend. Right now, though, it was hard to think of his unfaltering composure as anything but inhuman. “It just wouldn’t be safe to let you—”
“I need air,” you repeated, because it was true, because you did. Little, black spots were already starting to dot your vision, and it felt like someone was trying to wrap their hands around your throat and squeeze. “I… I think I might be gone for a while, too.”
For all his tenderness, Suguru didn’t sound very concerned. “How long?”
“A couple hours,” you tried, and then, much more quietly, when he let out a disbelieving hum. “…a few days?”
This time, Suguru didn’t have to say anything at all. Leaning against the doorway, Satoru’s cum still dripping down the inside of your thigh, it took less than a minute for you to crack on your own. “I think we… I think I might need a little space.”
There was another beat of silence, occupied only by a soft groan from Suguru, the sound of noisy swallowing from Satoru. Finally, he sighed. You didn’t dare to look, but you could picture him shaking his head, smiling as he rolled his eyes. Acting as if you’d just said the stupidest thing in the world. “What do you think, Satoru? Have we waited long enough.”
“—too long.” Satoru’s voice was hoarse, breathy. In your peripheral, you could see him dragging the back of his hand across his lips as he raised his head. “We’ve had everything ready for months, now.”
That was all Suguru needed to hear. He turned back to you, letting his head lull to the side. “Come back to bed, won’t you, princess?”
You didn’t respond. What little air you still had hitched in your collapsing throat as you attempted to move forward, only for a hand to catch your shoulder and hold you in-place. It was Satoru – now standing less than a full step behind you. He didn’t bother with a warning before wrapping his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his chest and off of your feet. You made a weak effort to thrash, to squirm, to dig your nails into the forearm laid over your midriff, but Satoru didn’t make a sound, didn’t let you go, only hauling you back to where Suguru sat on the edge of the mattress. You shouldn’t have felt as betrayed as you did. They’d both always been able to pick you up and throw you around like a kitten, being carried from place to place by its scruff. It was always only going to be a matter of time before they stopped listening to your half-hearted protests entirely.
“Over the knee,” Suguru said with a sort of flippant, beckoning gesture. “I want to make sure we get off on the right foot.”
Wordlessly, unceremoniously, you were dropped face-down into Suguru’s lap – his thighs pressing into your exposed stomach. Satoru lowered himself to the floor in front of you, sitting cross-legged and reaching out, cupping your face delicately. More out of reflex than anything intelligent, you tried to push yourself up, but a hand on the small of your back was enough to keep you paralyzed. Sometime between the doorway and the bed, the shaking had gotten worse. You doubted you’d be able to keep your legs underneath you, anymore. “Twenty-five,” he announced – an executioner reading out his victim’s sentence. “Fifteen for trying to leave us, and ten more for not listening to me. Does that sound fair, Satoru.”
“So mean, Sugu’,” Satoru whined, but you could already see a crooked smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “The poor thing doesn’t even know what’s going on.”
“Which is why we have to make a strong impression. I want her to know there’ll be consequences for misbehavior.” You felt his hand drifting up the length of your spine, lingering on the sensitive junction between your shoulder blades. “Twenty-five, okay, princess? I’m going to need you to count for me – if you lose track, we’ll have to start over.”
“Suguru, ‘toru, I don’t—I don’t understand what—” You were cut off by a sudden, bruising blow to the plush of your ass – all force, no friction. It took you a second to realize that it was Suguru’s hand, another to consciously acknowledge that he’d spanked you. Like you were some bratty toddler. Like he wanted to hurt you.
It took another lash to know you out of your spell-bound state and send a keening, pitchy cry spilling past your lips. The tears you’d managed to hold back minutes ago were back in full-force, dripping down your cheeks and pooling on your chin, accompanied by the occasional sniffle or ragged sob. Suguru hummed, but any sympathy he might’ve had remained unexpressed, hidden behind a thick veil of strict impassivity. “I need you to count. I know it’s hard, but it’ll only get more difficult if you don’t cooperate.” He paused, clicked his tongue. “We’re still on one. Are you going to be good, or do I have to get the belt?”
“Hurts, Suguru, you’re hurting—”
Another blow, this one to the back of your thighs and twice as harsh as the first two. Meekly, you mumbled a weak “…one.”
You couldn’t see past your own tears by the fifth strike, and by the tenth, you were sobbing openly. Each blow leaves your skin burning and your ass pulsing, but despite everything, he was far from brutal. His pace was measured, precise, and he was strategic – careful to never abuse the same spot to the point of numbness. After the fifteenth, you sniffled and forced yourself to raise your head, meeting Satoru’s eyes and silently pleading for his pity, for his help. Rather than empathy, you found a glassy stare and his hand in his lap, pumping idly over his cock. A few hours ago, you could picture yourself teasing him for not being able to go a full minute without someone touching him, even himself. Right now, the sight alone was enough to make bile rise into the back of your throat.
His thumb ran over your cheek, his palm settling under your chin and tilting your head back. “Don’t give me that look. This is twice as gentle as he’s ever been with me.”
By the time it was over, you were near-inconsolable, every number followed immediately by a string of distorted gibberish, a disjointed plea for him to stop, or be gentle, or let you go. You laid limp across Suguru’s lap as he drew slow, tender patterns into your abused flesh, every little touch sparking a new kind of pain, dragging another ragged sob up from somewhere deep and visceral in your chest. He was talking to you, cooing sweet nothings, but you couldn’t hear him. You didn’t want to hear him. You wanted to leave.
But, you couldn’t, and even if you’d had the strength to try, you wouldn’t have gotten very far. You hadn’t seen him move, but at some point, Satoru must’ve left the room. When your crying began to wane and you could bare the thought of opening your eyes, you found him standing in front of you, holding a glass of water in one hand and three white pills in the other. “Open up,” he said, drawing out each syllable for a beat longer than he really had to. “It’ll help with the pain, promise.”
You pursed your lips, grit your teeth, but Suguru’s thumb pressed into a fresh bruise and fear immediately overwhelmed your sense of caution. Suguru took precious seconds to reposition you – drawing you up by your shoulders to straddle his thigh – and Satoru’s hand found its way back to your cheek, his thumb tapping your bottom lip and slipping onto your tongue as you, reluctantly, opened your mouth. The pills were first, allowed to sit on your tongue until their bitterness reached the back of your throat, then the water, poured sloppily enough for the excess to spill out of the corners of your mouth. The reaction was instantaneous – a wave of nausea, then fatigue, your eyes immediately too heavy to keep open, your body too distant to justify attempting to control. You went slack, falling against Suguru, and he chuckled, bowing his head.
The last thing you felt was his mouth against your throat before everything went numb.
~
You woke up hours later, tucked into a bed that wasn’t yours and in more pain than you’d ever felt before.
Shock and terror startled you into consciousness before you could so much as attempt to fade back into blissful oblivion. You tried to curl up, to make yourself as small and as safe as possible, but your leg caught on something – a leather cuff, discovered after throwing the sheets that’d been laid over you to the side. A shackle, lined in velvet and sitting loosely at the base of your ankle, a silver chain connecting it to an unseen point underneath the bed. You gave it another tug, just to check, and unsurprisingly, it refused to budge. You choose to look away before the pit quickly opening up inside of your chest could deepen any further.
Instead, you turned your attention outward – to the rest of the bedroom. It wasn’t the one you shared with Satoru and Suguru, or the undecorated guestroom Satoru had semi-converted into a home office. The walls were a pale pink, the shelves already stocked with stuffed animals, fairy lights, jewelry boxes that (knowing Satoru) were no doubt filled to the brim. You weren’t wearing Suguru’s shirt anymore, either. Your blood ran cold as you glanced down and found yourself in a pastel blue nightgown – all lace and silk and frills no one could ever hope to actually sleep in. You didn’t know whether to be disgusted that they’d re-dressed you while you were unconscious, without your permission, or thankful they hadn’t waited until you were awake enough to try and stop them.
Seconds seemed to move in thick, dripping clumps. You couldn’t be sure how long passed until your disoriented stillness was interrupted, but by the time the plain, white door (a neat row of undone deadbolts visible above to the knob) swung open, Satoru stepping through with Suguru following shortly behind him. Automatically, you started to move towards them, but caught yourself, pressing you back into the headboard and crossing your arms over your chest, as if that gave you any kind of authority. As if there was any authority you could have, chained to the floor in the bedroom of a pre-schooler.
“You were beginning to worry us,” Suguru started, sitting on the foot of the bed. “But, then again, our little princess was always a delicate one, wasn’t she?”
You stiffened, bristled. You opened your mouth, but closed it as Satoru draped an arm over your shoulders, collapsing next to you. “Here,” he said, holding something out. “Suguru wanted to make you ask, but I’m not that stingy.”
 You attempted to shift away from him, but Satoru had never made things that easy. He clung to you that much tighter as your eyes fell to his hand, finding—
A cup.
A sippy cup, pink and plastic and decorated with little, glittering clouds.
The nausea was immediate, nearly overwhelming. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to throw it across the room. You wanted to do anything but accept it, but your throat was bone-dry, a steady throbbing already begging to root in the back of your skull. Wordlessly, you snatched it out of his hand and (with more than a little strain) pulled off the lid, drinking as quickly as you could. Satoru’s nails scraped against your bicep, but neither of them commented.
Suguru waited until you were finished to go on. “You’ll get used to it, after a few weeks. It’s really not that different from our prior relationship, just a few aesthetic changes ‘toru and I thought a—” He paused, grinned. “—softer environment might suit you.”
“We can be more honest now, too.” Satoru sounded too giddy, too happy. “Those last couple of days practically killed me – having to watch you leave the apartment, acting all independent n’ shit. This way, there won’t be anything stopping us from keeping you all to ourselves.”
A beat passed in silence. It took you a moment to realize you were supposed to say something, and another to actually open your mouth, to find your voice when all you wanted to do was shrivel up and shut your eyes. “I don’t really understand what’s going on,” you muttered, like that would make it true. Like enough stuttering, simpering obliviousness would be what made them change their minds. “When are you going to let me go?”
Beside you, you heard Satoru try and fail to suppress a breath of a laugh, and Suguru’s grin only seemed to widen.
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cumironi · 3 months ago
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FOREVER, OURS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU
& sum. the night before, you and your boyfriends talking about having kids. for them, having a child in these moments wasn’t the right decision, especially with them too busy with missions and averything, and the next morning, you just happened to be pregnant.
warning. established relationship au, fluff, bit angst, baby-trap, very-very suggestive start.
[☆] MASTERLIST
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the soft glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you relaxed in your shared bedroom with geto and gojo. the air was filled with a peaceful quiet, the kind that comes from being completely comfortable in each other’s presence.
geto was beside you, his attention absorbed in a book, the pages softly turning as he read. gojo was lying on the other side, his phone held loosely in his hand, occasionally tapping on the screen with a faint smirk.
you had your own book in hand, but you found yourself distracted. the comforting presence of your two boyfriends made it hard to focus. you glanced up from your page, watching geto's brow furrow slightly in concentration, then shifted your gaze to gojo, who was chuckling softly at something on his phone.
a contented sigh escaped your lips as you nestled deeper into the pillows, feeling the warmth and love that filled the room. there was no need for words; just being together like this was enough.
geto noticed your relaxed demeanor and couldn’t help but smile. he closed his book and gently placed it on the bedside table, shifting his attention towards you.
“you’re awfully quiet tonight,” he remarked, his voice soft and gentle. gojo, sensing the change in atmosphere, put aside his phone, and turned his gaze towards you. a mischievous look danced in his eyes, his smirk widening into a sly grin.
“are you enjoying the view or lost in thought?” gojo teased, his head tilted to the side as he studied your expression. geto chuckled, unable to hide the affectionate look in his eyes. “knowing you, you’re probably multitasking, thinking and ogling us at the same time.”
you glanced up at geto, offering him a small smile in response to his soft observation, then returned to your book without saying a word. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk; you were simply content, basking in the quiet comfort of their presence.
gojo, however, wasn’t going to let you off so easily. he leaned in closer, the corners of his mouth lifting as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “not even a little kiss for us tonight?” he teased, his voice dripping with playfulness.
you scrunched your nose, pretending to ignore him, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the pages in front of you. but the faint twitch of a smile gave you away.
gojo chuckled, his smirk turning into a cocky grin as he saw through your little act. “oh, you’re playing hard to get tonight, are you?” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
geto chuckled at your stubbornness. he knew you well, and he could tell that you were struggling to maintain your aloof act. he shifted closer, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, giving it an affectionate squeeze. he, who had been watching with silent amusement, spoke up, “leave her be, satoru.”
but gojo pretended not to hear him, instead inching closer to you. “come on, just a tiny little kiss...” he practically begged, exaggerating his plea as he inched closer.
you barely had a moment to react before gojo snatched the book from your hands, his grin widening as he held it just out of your reach. “enough reading for tonight,” he declared smugly, setting the book aside on the nightstand. “it’s time you give us some attention.”
you shot him a mock glare, but couldn’t help the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. gojo's antics were relentless, and he knew exactly how to get under your skin.
“oh, so now you’re deciding my bedtime routine?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
gojo gave a dramatic sigh, as if the very idea of you resisting was unheard of. “exactly,” he quipped, his tone dripping with playful authority. “i mean, you can’t really blame us for wanting your undivided attention.”
geto, still chuckling at gojo's antics, slipped his arm around you, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your back. “don’t mind him,” he murmured softly, his eyes warm. “but... i have to admit, he’s right.” his voice softened, and his gaze met yours, a gentle, coaxing look that made your resolve waver.
you rolled your eyes, feeling your heart flutter at their combined attention. “fine, fine,” you conceded with a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated, even though you secretly loved every second of it. “but you two better make it worth my time.”
gojo and geto shared a grin, pleased at your pretend reluctance to give them attention.
“oh, don’t worry,” gojo said with a mock seriousness, “we’ll make sure you’re well entertained... or should we say, ‘well-distracted’?” he winked at you.
geto chuckled, his hand still tracing gentle circles on your back. “what kind of entertainment do you prefer, my dear?” he asked, his voice low and sultry. “something more... physical, perhaps?”
gojo, unable to wait any longer, leaned closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. his voice was a whisper, but the heat behind his words was clear. “i vote for physical.”
geto, sensing the tension, shifted his body closer to you, his chest now pressed against your back. his hand, which had been tracing gentle circles, now moved to your hip, his fingers gripping subtly. “i second that vote,” he murmured, his mouth now close to your neck.
a soft hum escaped your lips, the warmth of their proximity sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. you let out a quiet chuckle, savoring the anticipation in the air as their teasing words lingered. without another word, you slowly shifted, turning onto your back, so you could face them both. their gazes met yours—gojo’s eyes glinting with playful mischief and geto’s with a steady, affectionate warmth.
with a smirk, you leaned in just enough for your breath to brush against their skin, whispering, “i vote for the physical.”
gojo’s smirk grew impossibly wider, his eyes lighting up with a delighted spark as he chuckled softly. “finally, a unanimous vote.” his fingers found yours, intertwining as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, deliberate motion.
geto, not one to be outdone, leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of your jaw, his hand resting comfortably on your waist. “looks like we’re all in agreement,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a gentle, comforting hum that only made your heart beat faster.
you sighed, content and caught between them, feeling completely wrapped up in their warmth and attention.
gojo, ever the impatient one, wasted no time. he moved closer, his free hand slipping under your shirt, his fingers tracing lazy lines against your stomach. the touch was light, a mere preview of things to come.
geto, the more patient of the two, continued to pepper soft kisses along your jaw, his fingers tracing light patterns on your hip. gojo, leaning even closer, his breath hot on your skin, whispered in your ear, “just say the word, and we’ll show you some real ‘physical entertainment.’”
geto chuckled, his lips against your jaw now moving down to your neck. he left a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him. “we aim to please, y’know,” he added, his voice a hot breath against your skin.
your hand slipped up to cup gojo’s face, your fingers brushing softly along his hair as you guided his gaze to meet yours. the playful glint in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of something more intense as he held your gaze.
“kiss me,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, each word laced with anticipation.
gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of eagerness and possessiveness. without a moment's hesitation, he moved in, closing the small gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss.
his hand slid from your stomach to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet loving. gojo’s other hand cradled your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he deepened the kiss.
as gojo poured his passion into the kiss, geto's hands wandered, sliding from your hip to your thighs, slowly moving up and under your shirt, his fingers lightly tracing against your skin. his head dipped, his mouth now on your neck, his kisses gradually becoming more heated as he began to leave a trail of soft hickies.
as gojo’s kisses trailed down to your jaw, then to the other side of your neck, his lips leaving a blazing path, a breathless moan slipped from your lips. your hands tangled in both their hair, grounding yourself in the heat of their touches. you felt the slow brush of geto’s fingers sliding up your thighs, his touch gentle yet purposeful, as his mouth continued to leave a trail of soft marks on your skin.
but as your gaze drifted up, your eyes landed on the ceiling—and there, among the glowing stars you’d carefully arranged, you noticed a few missing. a pout formed on your lips, and you sighed out, “aww… some of the stars are gone.”
as soon as the disappointed sigh left your lips, both gojo and geto let out exasperated groans against your neck, their frustration almost in perfect sync. you felt their warm breaths against your skin, both of them pausing their affections as they processed yet another one of your “star interruptions.”
gojo leaned back slightly, his forehead pressing to yours, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “really? again with the stars?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the situation. “we’re in the middle of something here, you know…”
geto sighed, though there was a fond smile on his face as he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling with you. his hand stayed firm on your waist, grounding you as he shook his head softly. “one day, we’re going to get through a night without you being distracted by constellations,” he teased, though his tone was warm and affectionate.
they both knew this wasn’t the first—or even the fifth—time you’d interrupted a heated moment with a sudden focus on the stars. it had practically become a ritual at this point. and although it was frustrating, the way you’d get so wrapped up in something as simple as the glowing shapes overhead was something they couldn’t help but adore about you.
you scrunched up your nose, pouting slightly as you looked at both of them. “i just don’t like missing stars,” you mumbled, sounding adorably stubborn, your eyes flicking up to the ceiling before back to their amused faces.
gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, sighing in unison before both of them turned onto their backs, settling beside you but still keeping close. geto’s hand remained gently on your waist, his thumb tracing idle circles, while gojo let out a playful scoff, his arm resting just behind your head.
“only you would care this much about glow-in-the-dark stickers,” gojo chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk, though his tone was filled with affection.
geto couldn’t help but laugh softly, his fingers still tracing the same idle circles on your waist. “you really have a thing for those stars, huh?” he teased, his fond smile mirroring gojo’s.
gojo chimed in, propping himself up on his elbow to hover over you slightly. “you’d think they were real, the way you’re so fixated on them.” his smirk widened as he teased, his tone still playful. despite their slight teasing, both gojo and geto made no move to resume the heated moment from before. instead, they settled comfortably on either side of you.
you tilted your head to look up at gojo, rolling your eyes with a playful scoff. “i’m not stupid, satoru,” you huffed, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “of course i don’t think they’re real stars.”
gojo grinned wider, clearly enjoying your reaction, while geto chuckled softly beside you, his fingers still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. “could’ve fooled us,” gojo teased, arching a brow as he settled back down beside you, still grinning like he’d won something.
you nudged his shoulder lightly, shooting him a mock glare. “just because i like them doesn’t mean i think they’re real.” your voice softened as you added, “they just… make me happy, okay?”
the playful grins on gojo’s and geto’s faces softened slightly at your admission. they both knew how much those stars meant to you, even if they didn’t fully understand your fixation.
gojo’s hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together in a gentle squeeze. “ah, so it’s an emotional attachment,” he teased, his tone more teasing than mocking.
geto, still tracing his thumb over your waist, chuckled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your shoulder. “adorable as it is, it sure kills the mood…”
you rolled your eyes at their teasing, glancing back up at the stars with a faint smile. “it’s not an emotional attachment,” you insisted, though the truth lingered just beneath your words. your gaze softened as you fell silent, memories from childhood drifting through your mind.
a quiet moment passed, the playful mood shifting as you thought back to simpler days. you remembered how, as a kid, you’d admired the glowing stars on the ceilings of friends’ bedrooms—their dads hanging them up like tiny constellations just for them. in a way, those stars had always felt like a small, unreachable piece of normal life, something untouched by the rules and expectations of growing up in a sorcerer family.
you hesitated, then finally let out a soft sigh. “when i was a kid, i used to see them in my friends’ rooms,” you murmured, your voice just above a whisper. “i always wanted some for myself, but… well, my family wasn’t really the type to hang glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.”
both gojo and geto listened in silence, their teasing remarks forgotten as they noticed the shift in your mood from playful to nostalgic.
gojo’s grip tightened around your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles in a soft, reassuring gesture, while geto’s touch on your waist moved to gently rub small circles on your back, trying to offer a small comfort.
they exchanged a glance over your head, silently communicating, before focusing their attention back on you. gojo remained silent for a moment, waiting for you to continue, while geto let out a soft, encouraging hum.
gojo leaned in close, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his voice a gentle murmur against your skin. “first thing tomorrow, we’re getting as many as you want,” he promised, his usual playful tone softened with sincerity. “we’ll cover the whole ceiling—no, the whole house if you want.” he smiled, his eyes glinting with a determination to make up for what you’d missed.
he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze filled with a mix of affection and resolve. “you’re gonna have the brightest ceiling in the world, and every time you look up, you’ll see all the stars you want, made just for you.”
you turned your head to the side, meeting gojo’s gaze with a soft smile. there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart swell, and you could feel the sincerity in every word he had just spoken. without another thought, you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his.
“thank you, satoru,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. the words were simple, but they carried so much emotion, a quiet gratitude for his understanding and the gentle way he was willing to make up for what you’d missed.
gojo’s smile softened at your words, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and tenderness. he knew how much those stars meant to you, and he was determined to make up for lost time. “don’t worry, my love,” he whispered, his hand gently caressing your cheek. “you’ll have a whole sky full of stars, just as you always wanted.”
geto, still tucked close beside you, listened in silence. his hand continued tracing soothing circles on your back, his touch gentle and comforting. he remained quiet, letting gojo take the lead.
you looked between them, a playful glint in your eyes as you couldn’t resist teasing. “you know,” you said with a smirk, “you two are going to be the best fathers.”
a moment of stunned silence followed your words. both gojo and geto were caught completely off guard, their jaws hanging open in surprise.
gojo recovered first, his stunned expression morphing into a mix of surprise and pride. a wide, almost giddy grin spread across his face. “fathers, huh?” he echoed, a hint of wonder in his voice.
geto chuckled, his hand on your back stilling for a moment before resuming its gentle circles. he shook his head, a softer smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he teased gently.
you chuckled softly, the warmth of the moment making you a little bolder. “do you two think we’d actually start a family someday?” you asked, the question slipping out without much thought as your gaze drifted back up to the ceiling.
you didn’t notice how your words seemed to hang in the air, nor did you catch the unreadable expressions that briefly crossed their faces. gojo’s grin faded slightly, replaced by something unreadable, a flicker of deep thought behind his usually carefree eyes. geto’s hand on your back stilled again, his gaze turning contemplative as he glanced at gojo, a silent understanding passing between them.
as you looked up at the ceiling, blissfully unaware of the deeper meanings your words had unintentionally stirred, gojo and geto were quietly reflecting on your casual question. the air seemed to shift subtly with a hint of weight.
gojo’s grin disappeared, replaced by a soft, pensive expression. he averted his gaze, his eyes wandering to the ceiling to avoid your gaze. geto, on the other hand, was silently looking at gojo, his own thoughts mirroring the same contemplative expression.
the room was silent for a moment, broken only by the sound of your slightly heavy breaths. both gojo and geto remained thoughtfully quiet, their gazes trained on the ceiling.
finally, gojo broke the silence, his voice barely above a murmur. “it’s… an interesting thought, isn’t it?” he began, his tone casual, but his eyes betraying a hint of seriousness. geto kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his fingers resuming their gentle circles on your back. he hummed softly, a non-committal noise of agreement.
you turned your head slightly, gaze drifting to gojo’s face. he wore that familiar, unreadable expression—one that masked so much, but over the years, you’d learned to pick up on the faint traces of emotion he sometimes couldn’t fully hide. his eyes, usually so full of mischief or confidence, held a hint of something softer now, a depth he rarely let show.
after a moment, you let out a quiet “yeah,” a gentle agreement that felt like it carried the weight of a promise, even if unspoken. returning your gaze to the ceiling, you traced the shapes of the stars you’d carefully arranged above, feeling the warmth of their presence around you. it was comforting to imagine a future like this—a family, a home filled with stars, laughter, and quiet moments like these.
gojo glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he noticed the shift in your expression. he knew you well enough to recognize that gleam in your eyes—the one that hinted at a distant hope and longing. the corners of his mouth twitched into a small, almost secretive smile.
geto, too, observed the silent exchange, his own heart swelling with a mixture of tenderness and melancholy. he knew the ache for such a future all too well. gojo’s voice broke the silence again, gently drawing your focus back to the conversation. “you’d actually want that, huh?”
your voice was barely above a whisper as you replied, “i don’t want it if you don’t.” you kept your gaze on the ceiling, the faint glow of the stars casting soft shadows across the room, but you didn’t need to look to feel the subtle shift in their emotions. it was as if they both tensed, caught between the vulnerability of the moment and their instinct to shield you from it.
you could feel gojo’s hand go still, his thumb frozen mid-stroke against your knuckles. his usual confidence seemed to waver, a quiet uncertainty flickering beneath his calm exterior. meanwhile, geto’s fingers on your back faltered, his touch gentle, yet hesitant—as if he, too, was processing emotions he wasn’t ready to voice.
you waited, the silence stretching between the three of you. it felt like they were trying to redirect, maybe even shift the conversation toward something safer. but you stayed quiet, not wanting to push, but hoping they’d know that whatever path they chose, you’d walk it together, even if it means there is will be no family.
the room fell into a silence thick with emotion. gojo and geto struggled to maintain their usual composure, their thoughts and feelings clearly shaken by your response.
gojo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his gaze shifting from the ceiling to your face. he wanted to reply, to say something, but the words seemed to elude him. finally, geto broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “it’s not that we don’t want it, love,” he began, his fingers resuming their gentle circles on your back.
both gojo and geto were grappling with a mixture of emotions, their responses a delicate balance between honesty and the need to protect you. they both knew that bringing a child into this world, as powerful sorcerers, came with a whole new set of challenges and dangers, and the thought of putting a child through that was a heavy burden to bear.
“it’s just… complicated, “ gojo admitted, his voice low and heavy. “we would give anything to watch you become a mother, to see you care for and nurture a little bundle of joy, but...”
his voice trailed off, his gaze wandering to the ceiling once more. geto continued for him, his tone gentle yet tinged with sadness. “it’s not a simple world, love. we’re constantly facing threats and dangers most people can’t even imagine. bringing a child into that world... it would mean putting that child at risk.”
their words settled over you like a weight, pressing down on your chest. you didn’t respond immediately, simply letting their voices fade into the quiet of the room. you’d known this reality, had seen firsthand the constant battles and dangers they faced as sorcerers. but hearing it laid out like this—so openly, so vulnerably—made it all feel painfully real.
as you kept your gaze fixed on the glowing stars above, a dull ache bloomed in your heart, a quiet longing mixed with acceptance. part of you had always dreamed of that future, of a family, of a little one with their combined stubbornness, strength, and warmth. yet, you knew the truth: the life you shared with them was far from ordinary, far from safe.
the silence stretched, each of you lost in your own thoughts, until finally, you whispered, barely audible, “i know...”
your words hung in the air, soft and wistful. you didn’t need them to make any promises or change their minds—you just wanted them to know that the thought of a future, even a fragile one, was something you held onto, even if it was just a dream.
the silence that followed your soft, wistful admission was heavy with unspoken emotions. gojo and geto both stared upwards, their eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if searching for the right words to say.
after a moment, gojo’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb tracing circles on your knuckles in a silent, comforting gesture. geto, still tracing those same circles on your back, let out a deep sigh, his heart heavy with a mixture of love and sorrow.
and then, in a hushed voice, geto spoke up, his words careful. “it’s not that we’re ruling it out entirely,” he continued, his voice low. “but it’s not a decision we should make lightly, knowing the risks involved.”
gojo nodded, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes slightly widened as he searched for the right words to comfort you. “it’s not like we don’t want it, love,” he repeated, his tone sincere. “we just… we want to give you everything you deserve, including a safe and normal life.”
there was another pause as the weight of their words sunk in. both gojo and geto were silently contemplating this complex, uncharted territory, struggling to find a way to express their emotions and fears.
then, gojo finally spoke up, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. “you know we both love you more than anything,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “we just want to make sure you’re happy, and that any child we bring into this world is safe. that’s our main priority.”
“we’re not saying no forever,” geto added, his voice softer now. “just… not right now.” he paused for a moment, his hand pausing its soothing motion on your back as he chose his words carefully.
“we’d want nothing more than to see you as a mother, but the life we lead… it’s not an easy one. and bringing a child into this world would be a responsibility we’d take seriously.”
the room fell into a heavy silence as your heart felt the weight of their words, the ache in your chest growing stronger with each passing moment. you didn’t say anything, your eyes still trained on the ceiling, though your thoughts swirled in a mix of disappointment, longing, and acceptance. it was hard to put into words the sudden heartbreak that came with realizing a dream might never be realized, at least not the way you had imagined.
geto noticed the subtle shift in your expression, the way your body seemed to fold in on itself, a sign that you were retreating into your own thoughts, maybe even into yourself. his heart tugged at the sight of you in such a quiet, vulnerable state. he could see the storm behind your eyes, the words you weren’t saying but felt deep inside.
sighing softly, he leaned in, his voice tender as he whispered, “come here.”
he slid his arm under your head, gently pulling you closer until your body melted into his. you didn’t resist, turning to lay on your side and burying your face in his chest. the warmth of his embrace surrounded you like a quiet sanctuary, the steady rise and fall of his chest offering a moment of comfort.
your arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, the action grounding you, as you sought solace in his familiar presence.
as you buried your face in geto’s chest, gojo let out a soft sigh, watching the exchange silently. his expression was a mixture of understanding and sadness. he knew your dreams, your hopes and longings, and seeing you so silently devastated was more painful than he could’ve imagined.
slowly, he moved closer, his body molding against your back as he wrapped his arms around you both, enveloping you in a protective embrace. his breaths were slow and steady, his chin resting softly on your shoulder.
the three of you lay there in a tangle of limbs and emotions, each of you lost in your own thoughts. the room remained quiet, the only sound being the soft inhale and exhale of breaths.
after several moments, gojo broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know it’s not what you wanted to hear, love.” geto’s arm tightened around you, his hand continuing to gently brush against your back, offering silent reassurance. he remained quiet, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, leaving it to gojo to continue.
gojo sighed, his breath caressing your skin as he spoke. “i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice laced with guilt and regret. “i wish it could be different. we all do. but…”
he broke off, clearly struggling to find the right words, his hands clenching slightly around the fabric of your clothes. “we just want the best for you,” he murmured after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. “and as much as we want to give you anything you desire, we can’t risk putting you in harm’s way.”
the room remained still, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing, as you lay between gojo and geto. the weight of the conversation still lingered in the air, but the tension seemed to ease as time passed. their presence, their warmth, was a comforting reminder that, in this moment, you didn’t have to carry the burden alone.
gojo had shifted slightly, his hand now resting on your back, fingers gently stroking the skin beneath your shirt. geto’s grip was steady around your waist, his presence solid and unwavering. both of them didn’t say anything further, allowing you to sink into the quiet comfort of their touch, not rushing you to speak or to feel anything you weren’t ready to.
the air was thick with unsaid words, but in that stillness, something comforting bloomed. the kind of quiet that spoke volumes in its own way. your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion from the emotional weight of the conversation finally taking its toll. your breath deepened, and slowly, the world around you started to fade.
the last thing you felt was the warmth of their bodies close to you, the steady heartbeat of geto beneath your ear, and the gentle pulse of gojo’s hand moving slowly over your skin. with a quiet sigh, you let yourself surrender to the moment, allowing sleep to pull you under, leaving the worries and complexities of the world behind for just a while.
as you slowly drifted off to sleep, both gojo and geto silently watched, their eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and worry. they remained still, not moving an inch, not wanting to disturb your finally relaxed expression.
the room was now filled with a deep sense of quiet, the silence broken only by the soft sound of your breaths and the steady beats of their hearts. they stayed like that, their arms wrapped around you, not willing to let go just yet. gojo, ever the more restless of the two, reached for the blanket and carefully pulled it over you.
geto’s eyes were still fixed on the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts. “i hate this,” he muttered softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip.
gojo let out a low hum of agreement. “yeah, me too,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. his hand continued to move gently over your skin, his touch a soothing comfort.
“it’’ll take some time,” gojo continued. “for her to accept it, i mean.” he paused, swallowing a lump in his throat.
gojo hummed softly, a small, smile tugging at his lips as he tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer into the warmth of his embrace. his hand found geto’s, gently intertwining their fingers, the quiet comfort of their touch a silent promise to stick together through the complexities that lay ahead.
“just a little while,” gojo whispered, his voice soft, almost tender as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. his lips lingered there for a moment, a quiet vow, a reassurance to both you and himself that, no matter the uncertainties, they would face them together. the night fell around them in peaceful silence, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten in the safety of their arms.
geto, noticing the subtle shift in gojo’s demeanor, smiled to himself, his fingers gently intertwining with gojo’s in return. he watched silently as gojo leaned down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before settling back down.
“yeah,” geto murmured, his own voice carrying a hint of determination. “just a little while. she’ll come around. she always does.” he paused, his eyes flickering to gojo’s face briefly. there was a silent understanding between them, a silent reassurance that they would weather whatever storm came their way, together.
the following morning, as the three of you prepared for work, gojo and geto were in the bedroom, focused on getting into their uniforms and gathering their things. however, despite the usual morning routine, you were nowhere to be seen.
gojo pulled the black compression shirt over his head, glancing over at geto as he adjusted his own uniform. his brow furrowed in mild confusion, the quiet of the room making it a bit strange that you hadn’t appeared yet.
“hey, where is she?” gojo asked, his voice a little more casual than his growing concern. “i haven’t seen her in, what—twenty minutes?"”he added, pulling at the collar of his shirt to straighten it, a faint edge of worry creeping into his tone. his eyes scanned the room, as if expecting you to pop out from somewhere.
geto, busy fixing his own uniform, glanced up at gojo’s question, a hint of concern mirrored in his expression. “now that you mention it, she’s taking longer than usual.” he said, his eyes darting around the room as well, almost as if he expected you to magically appear from behind a lamp or under a sofa.
his hand paused in the process of buttoning his shirt as that familiar flutter of worry settled in his chest. “maybe she’s in the bathroom?” he suggested, his voice betraying just a hint of unease.
gojo nodded in agreement, though his brow remained furrowed. “yeah, probably,” he replied, his movements a little more restless as he paced around the room. the silence that followed made the air feel heavy, the usual lightness of the situation now replaced by a palpable sense of anxiety.
he turned towards the bathroom, his hand reaching out for the door handle. “i’ll just check on her,” he said, his voice taking on a more firm tone as he prepared to push the door.
on the other side of the bathroom door, you stood there, gripping the edge of the towel wrapped tightly around your body, the soft fabric bunched under your clenched fingers. you looked down at the small, plastic test in your hand, eyes fixed on the faint, unmistakable two lines. each heartbeat felt louder than the last, pounding against your chest with a mix of dread and overwhelming anxiety.
it wasn’t happiness filling you—not the joy or excitement you’d thought might come if you ever held a test like this. instead, a wave of panic rose, cold and sharp, twisting tightly in your stomach. your hand, gripping the towel, started to tremble, and you couldn’t stop it.
strands of your wet hair clung to your bare shoulders, the droplets cooling against your skin but doing little to steady you. your forehead felt damp, from the lingering steam of the shower and from the sudden heat of panic rising within you.
your mind began to replay the conversation from the night before, fragments of their words coming back in echoes—soft, serious voices admitting fears and reasons. you remembered gojo’s tender but worried tone as he said, “we want you happy, but bringing a child into our world… it’s not the right time.” and geto’s gentle yet sad agreement, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “not right now.”
and here you were, facing the reality of it, holding proof of something neither of them were ready for. your gaze drifted over the faded lines on the test, your chest tightening painfully as you tried to breathe through the waves of panic. it felt like the ground beneath you had shifted, leaving you unsteady, your hand shaking even as you tried to steady yourself.
the air in the bathroom felt stifling, the walls closing in on you. the sharp edge of panic pressed down, constricting your chest as you stared down at the two lines. your damp hair clung to your skin, feeling cold and damp against your shoulders, but it did nothing to cool the heat of fear coursing through you.
you felt like you were drowning in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. the memory of last night’s conversation echoed through your mind, the gentle yet firm words of geto and gojo replaying in your head.
a sudden knock on the door made you jump, nearly dropping the test pack. gojo’s voice filtered through, soft but laced with concern. “hey… everything alright in there, love?” he asked, his tone casual but curious as he meet with geto’s gaze.
swallowing hard, you forced your voice to sound steady, even though it felt like every breath was caught in your throat. “y-yeah, i’m alright,” you managed to say, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. your gaze flickered to the door, heart pounding faster with the fear of what lay ahead. you could picture gojo’s face, his lighthearted smile shifting into something more serious, and the thought was enough to make your stomach twist.
you looked down at the test in your hand, the two faint lines glaring back at you like an undeniable truth. images flashed through your mind—imagining their reactions, the shock, the inevitable disappointment, and maybe even anger. you thought of the conversation from last night, their careful words about timing and the dangers of their world, and your chest tightened further. how could you tell them now?
another knock, firmer this time, pulled you back, followed by gojo’s slightly more insistent voice. “love are you hurt? you’ve been in there forever…”
his tone was still light, but the concern was undeniable, and you could imagine his brows drawn together, maybe even a worried frown. you knew you couldn’t stay hidden in here much longer, couldn’t keep the truth hidden from them… but you had no idea how to say it, or what would come after.
gojo’s voice carried through the door again, sounding a little more urgent now. “come on, say something,” he coaxed, his tone still light, but the concern was clear. “you’re starting to scaring us…”
he paused for a moment, listening closely for any hint that you were okay, while geto stood behind him, his usually unreadable expression betraying a hint of worry. the silence that followed was deafening, and gojo’s hand hovered over the door handle, clearly contemplating action.
his patience wearing thin, gojo eventually knocked again, firmly this time, his hand clenching the handle. “please, just say something,” he said, his voice a little more stern, the worry now edged with frustration.
gojo’s mind was racing, a thousand different scenarios playing out at once. each passing moment, the silence from the other side of the door only heightened his anxiety, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each second.
geto spoke up then, his voice joining gojo's. “love, please,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “open the door, or we’re coming in.”
the air was thick with tension as they waited, giving you a moment to respond, to open the door, to do anything to alleviate their growing concern. but when no response came, gojo’s hand grasped the door handle, ready to push it open.
the door creaked open slowly, and you stood there, framed in the doorway with a fragile, almost vulnerable expression that made both gojo and geto go completely silent. their gazes softened instantly, and they could see the unshed tears shimmering in your eyes, the way your hand trembled as you held onto the door, and the nervous, uncertain look on your face.
gojo’s usual lighthearted demeanor disappeared as he took a small step closer, his brows knitting with concern. “hey… what’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice gentle as though afraid to startle you.
geto’s eyes flicked to your hand, clenched tightly behind your back, noticing the way you seemed to be trying to hold something out of sight. he shared a quick look with gojo before he took a steadying breath, his voice low and calming. “we’re here,” he murmured. “whatever it is, you can tell us.”
you took a shaky breath, gathering the last bit of courage you had, feeling the weight of the words stuck in your throat. “i… i need to tell you something,” you whispered, barely able to meet their eyes. you glanced down, biting your lip, feeling the anxiety and panic rise in waves. every word felt like a mountain to climb.
their expressions turned serious, sensing the gravity of the moment. gojo reached out, taking your trembling hand in his and squeezing it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he waited with quiet patience. geto stepped closer too, his hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you in his steady presence.
“take your time,” gojo encouraged softly, his voice a tender murmur. “whatever it is, we’re not going anywhere.”
you stood there in silence, eyes downcast, feeling a tear slip past your resolve despite your best efforts to hold it back. the weight of the decision, the heartache, and the fear mingled together in a painful tangle, twisting in your chest. you knew what had to be done, knew that bringing this up meant making a choice you never wanted to face alone—but the thought of their reaction left you frozen.
gojo’s fingers tightened around yours as he noticed the tear slipping down your cheek, his eyes widening with worry. he tilted his head to try and catch your gaze, his own expression softening with concern. “hey… please, talk to us,” he murmured gently, his voice a mix of desperation and warmth.
geto’s hand on your shoulder gently guided you closer, his thumb rubbing small circles in an attempt to soothe you. he could feel the tension, the weight of something unsaid hanging in the air, and he waited patiently, his own heart aching at the sight of you struggling. gently, he guided you to the bed, sitting you at the edge.
gojo and geto sat on either side of you, their gazes fixed on your face, watching the flurry of emotions flicker across your features. gojo's hand remained clasped around yours, his touch a silent reminder that they were there for you, whatever you had to tell them. geto's hand continued stroking your shoulder, a soft and steady rhythm that spoke of comfort and quiet reassurance.
the silence felt heavy, almost suffocating, as they waited for whatever you were ready to say. the air was thick with anticipation, both of them bracing themselves for whatever revelation might be coming.
gojo’s eyes narrowed as he noticed you hide your other hand behind your back, a subtle but unmistakable movement that sent a wave of unease through him. something was wrong, he could feel it. without saying a word, his hand reached out, gentle but insistent, as he tried to pull your hidden hand from behind your back.
you stiffened, your fingers curling tighter around whatever it was, as if trying to shield it from him. gojo's gaze softened, the concern growing in his chest. “my love,” he said, his voice a tender murmur, yet the underlying firmness was unmistakable. it wasn’t a demand, but a soft warning, a gentle plea for you to let him in.
you hesitated, your grip firming even more in a silent protest, but after a moment, you relented. your hand trembled slightly as he slowly eased it from behind your back, and as his fingers wrapped around yours, the testpack in your hand was finally revealed.
gojo’s heart skipped a beat as he saw it. he didn’t need to say anything. the sight of it—the faint two lines—spoke volumes. his gaze flickered from the testpack to your face, your tear-streaked expression twisting with emotion. his frown deepened, not in anger, but in confusion, concern, and something that could only be described as a heavy ache in his chest.
you whispered barely above a breath, the words tumbling out with a rawness that pierced through the silence. “i’m… i’m pregnant,” you said, your voice breaking, filled with sorrow. “i’m so sorry...”
gojo’s gaze remained fixed on the test pack for a few seconds, his mind struggling to process the words that just came out of your mouth. he could feel his heart pounding faster in his chest, a mix of shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. he glanced up at you, his eyes taking in your distraught expression, the tear-streaked cheeks, and the way you were clenching your jaw.
he opened his mouth, as if to speak, but no words came out. geto, meanwhile, remained silent on your other side, equally stunned and trying to process the news.
the moment the words left your lips, a heavy silence settled between the three of you. gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them. their eyes were filled with unspoken questions, concern, and something deeper—fear, perhaps. they both understood the weight of the decision you were implying, but neither one of them was prepared for it.
but before either of them could speak, you whispered again, your voice barely audible. “you don’t have to worry,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if saying them would make everything easier. “i’ve decided... i’ll terminate the baby.”
the air around you grew thick with tension, each word sinking into the space like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples through the atmosphere. your hands trembled, and even though you tried to mask it, the pain in your eyes was undeniable.
gojo’s heart dropped, and geto’s expression darkened, the weight of your decision settling heavily on both of them. they couldn’t even begin to process the gravity of it, and yet, they knew how deeply conflicted you must’ve been to come to that conclusion.
the moment geto heard the words “terminate the baby,” his heart seemed to stop. his face twisted with a mixture of shock and disbelief, the gravity of your statement weighing heavily on him. without hesitation, he quickly responded, his voice thick with emotion, “no.”
there was a brief pause before he spoke again, this time his tone softer, more pleading. the corner of his lips twitched, as if trying to fight back the ache in his chest. “please, don’t,” he whispered, his voice strained but full of desperation. “it’s our baby,” he continued, his hand gently running through your wet hair, his fingers trembling slightly as they found their way to your scalp, offering a touch of comfort even as he struggled to control the flood of emotions within him.
his words, so gentle yet laced with an undeniable pain, were a stark contrast to the harshness of his initial reaction. he wanted to be strong for you, for the both of you, but in that moment, he was vulnerable, his love for you and the child you carried too strong to ignore. his other hand rested on your shoulder, trying to ground you, to offer reassurance that this decision didn’t have to be made alone, that they would support you no matter what you chose.
“satoru and i... we’re here,” geto murmured, his voice barely audible as he gazed at you with a mixture of love and concern. he was desperate for you to understand that there was no need to face this alone, that they were both willing to take on this responsibility with you, together.
your head snapped up at geto's words, your eyes wide with confusion, as if you couldn't understand what he was saying. the tremble in your hands grew more apparent as you blinked, your mind racing to catch up with the reality of the situation. “but... i thought you didn't want the baby,” you choked out, your voice breaking with a mixture of confusion and hurt.
the words seemed to tumble out of you, your thoughts jumbled, but there was a clarity in the pain in your chest. you hadn't imagined this moment going like this. you'd prepared yourself for the worst—the disappointment, the anger, the rejection. but instead, here they were, offering you support and pleading with you to reconsider.
your chest tightened, and the weight of your emotions pressed down on you like a vice. your eyes were still red from the tears you had fought so hard to keep back, but now, they welled up again, threatening to spill over. your voice cracked as you tried to make sense of it all, your heart torn between the fear of what could come and the love they were offering.
“i thought you... didn’t want this,” you repeated softly, almost to yourself, your eyes searching their faces for some sign that this wasn’t all a misunderstanding. “you said... you weren’t ready.”
geto’s heart ached as he heard your voice break, the confusion and hurt apparent in your words. he could see how much this decision was weighing on you, the weight of the situation clear on your face. he shared a quick glance with gojo, both their expressions mirrored with pain and uncertainty. he knew you hadn’t expected this reaction, hadn’t prepared yourself for their support.
“we...” his voice cracked at first, his own emotions threatening to break through, but he steadied himself and continued. “we never said we didn’t want this.”
gojo, who had been quietly listening for the most part, found his voice in that moment, his words a gentle but firm reassurance. “baby, we were surprised,” he said, drawing your attention to him. his expression softened as he met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and love.
gojo reached out, his fingers gently taking some of your damp hair and tucking it behind your ear, his touch a tender caress. “but we would never in a million years refuse the gift of a child that we love and want with all our hearts.”
you felt a wave of relief and confusion wash over you as gojo spoke, his voice steady and warm. it was as if the air had shifted, and your heart began to slowly unclench, but the anxiety still clung to you. his words, though reassuring, had made you realize just how panicked you had become, all the while assuming the worst.
you bowed your head, guilt flooding through you as you tried to gather your scattered thoughts. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words slipping out shakily. your voice was small, fragile, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile sense of hope you were starting to feel.
“i... i just got so confused,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly. “i was just so scared... especially after what you said last night. i didn’t know what to think.”
your hand tightened around the edge of the blanket, the tension in your body slowly easing as you tried to make sense of it all. you couldn't meet their eyes fully yet, still too embarrassed by your own reaction. you had misunderstood them, let fear dictate your actions, and now you felt as if you had been too quick to assume the worst of them.
“i was just... so scared,” you repeated quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words carried the weight of your emotions.
as you spoke, expressing your fear and confusion, gojo and geto’s expressions remained soft, their eyes filled with a mix of understanding and tenderness.
gojo gently placed his hand on top of yours, his fingers interlacing with yours in a comforting grip. “love, please listen,” he murmured, his voice soft yet firm. he paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before he continued.
“i’m sorry we made you feel that way,” he began. “i didn’t mean to give you the impression that we don’t want this baby.”
geto, on your other side, leaned in closer, his face close to you, his eyes fixed on yours. he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle but reassuring. “we were just surprised, that’s all,” he muttered softly. “we hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.”
gojo gently pulled you into his lap, settling you comfortably against him with your legs dangling lightly in the air. his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close, his warmth seeping into your body. his fingers traced lightly over the towel wrapped around you, his touch soft but full of meaning as he let his hand rest on your stomach.
he met your gaze with a steady, reassuring smile, his eyes full of unwavering support. “hey,” he murmured softly, his voice calm yet filled with conviction. “me and suguru, we’re not going anywhere. we’re always going to be here for you, through everything. you don’t have to face this alone.”
he smiled again, his thumb running gently over your stomach, a quiet promise in his gesture. “for a while, you’ll come around, love. i know it’s a lot right now, but you’ll see. everything’s going to be okay. you’re going to be the luckiest girl, and our child? they’ll be the luckiest too. because we’re going to keep you safe, comfortable, and happy. here, with us. only us.”
his words, full of love and certainty, wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe it.
geto, watching the interaction between you and gojo, couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and tenderness at the sight. gojo’s words had clearly made an impact on you, and he could see how your rigid body was starting to loosen up slightly, the tension in your muscles slowly ebbing away.
he leaned closer towards you, gently taking your hand in his own. he gave it a reassuring squeeze, his fingers tracing tiny circles on your skin. “he’s right, you know,” he mumbled gently. “we’ll always be here for you. and for our baby.”
your heart swelled with emotion as you looked from geto to gojo, taking in the sincerity in both of their faces. the fear and uncertainty that had been gripping you so tightly finally began to loosen, replaced by a comforting warmth that their words and presence brought.
you nodded softly, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips as you whispered, “thank you… thank you both, so much.” your voice was barely audible, but the gratitude in it was clear.
with a gentle sigh, you leaned your head against gojo’s chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your cheek. his hand remained at your waist, his hold protective yet tender, while geto’s fingers continued to trace gentle circles on your hand, grounding you.
gojo felt your weight lean into him and his heart melted. he shifted a bit, wrapping one arm more fully around you, pulling you even closer. his chin rested on your head, his other hand still on your stomach, fingers tracing soft patterns into your skin, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breathing.
geto’s eyes followed the movement, a tender smile on his lips. he watched you both for a few moments before leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple. “we love you,” he murmured against your skin. “always.”
gojo’s tone was soft yet unwavering as he brushed a hand along your cheek, meeting your eyes with gentle determination. “you’re not going to work today, love,” he murmured, his voice leaving no room for protest. “we’ll talk to yaga, and we’ll be with you the entire day. just rest.”
before you could say anything, gojo leaned down, his arms sliding beneath you as he lifted you effortlessly, his grip both steady and comforting. he held you close to his chest, the warmth of his embrace easing some of the lingering tension in your body. as he carried you over to the bed, you could feel his heartbeat—a constant, soothing rhythm that seemed to match your own.
he set you down gently, his fingers brushing over your skin as he slipped the towel from your shoulders, leaving you bare. his touch was careful, almost reverent, as he tucked you in with the soft blankets, smoothing them over your form to ensure you were wrapped in warmth. his gaze softened as he made sure the blanket cocooned you, his thumb gently tracing along your shoulder, a silent promise of his care.
“just rest now, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the back of his hand. “you’ve been through enough for today… don’t want to stress our baby mama,” his words were a quiet vow, full of love and unwavering support.
geto watched the scene in silence, his heart full of tenderness as gojo took care of you with such gentle yet assertive actions. he could see the exhaustion in your eyes and knew that you needed this moment of rest. the way gojo was handling the situation showed a side of him that many rarely got to see—a caring and nurturing side that was normally buried under his carefree demeanor.
he moved across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on your leg over the blankets. “don’t stress about anything,” he echoed gojo’s sentiment, his voice a soft, soothing murmur.
you felt the weight of their love and care surrounding you, and despite the emotional rollercoaster you had just been on, a sense of peace washed over you. your body felt lighter as you allowed yourself to relax into the bed, the warmth of the blankets and their presence making everything else fade away.
with a soft, content smile playing on your lips, you looked at both of them, your voice a soft whisper, “i love you,” you said, your eyes filled with an innocent, trusting affection, all naive and clueless. your heart swelled with the deep love you felt for them, and the reassurance they gave you in that moment meant everything.
gojo, sitting close by, smiled down at you warmly, his eyes soft with admiration as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “we love you, too,” he murmured, his voice full of affection.
geto, his hand still resting on your leg, leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “always, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, a quiet promise that you’d never be alone.
with those words, your eyelids fluttered closed, the exhaustion from the past hours finally catching up to you. your breathing slowed, and you felt yourself drift into a peaceful sleep, knowing you were safe, loved, and cared for by the two people who would always be there, no matter what came next.
as you finally let yourself relax and drift off in a peaceful sleep, gojo and geto both let out a soft sigh, the relief in the room palpable. they both settled in, each on either side of you, close enough so that you were completely surrounded by their presence.
for a while, there was just silence, both of them quietly watching you sleep, their own thoughts swirling in their heads as they took in the sight of you in this vulnerable state. after a moment, gojo broke the silence. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen her look that scared,” he murmured.
as you finally slipped into a peaceful sleep, the quiet settled over the room, but the atmosphere around gojo and geto seemed to pulse with an unspoken energy. they both let out a collective sigh of relief, the weight of the situation lightening just a little as they watched over you. there was something deeply comforting in knowing you were finally able to rest, and yet, something else simmered beneath the surface—an undercurrent of tension and darker thoughts that only they fully understood.
geto, now standing at the edge of the bed, observed your sleeping form with a level of intensity that sent a shiver down the room’s spine. His usual composed demeanor softened only slightly in the quiet, but there was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered on you. his fingers subtly curled into the fabric of his pockets, his posture relaxed yet controlled. his eyes, usually calculating and sharp, softened at the sight of you so vulnerable, so at peace, yet underneath that tenderness, a quiet, twisted amusement began to build.
he hummed softly under his breath, as if trying to savor the moment, the silence between the three of them a thick layer of unspoken emotions. he leaned in a little closer, his breath barely audible, his gaze unwavering. As his lips curled into a smile, it wasn’t one of kindness or affection. no, this smile was darker, more sinister—a slow, knowing curve that spread across his face, one that seemed to stretch wider with each passing second. it was as if the moment had awakened a part of him that had been lying dormant, a part that thrived on control, on manipulation.
the smile deepened, almost to the point of being maniacal, as his eyes never left your face. the vulnerability you displayed only made it worse for him, feeding something twisted and possessive within. his eyes darkened as he muttered under his breath, his voice low and controlled, yet thick with an undercurrent of satisfaction. “good,” he whispered, a single word that carried the weight of far more than just the moment. it was a word wrapped in meaning that only gojo could fully comprehend.
his smile grew more pronounced as he repeated the sentiment, his voice soft but deliberate. “she’ll come around. eventually.” the words, so simple, carried the venom of a promise, one that was not comforting but instead laden with a subtle threat.
gojo, though silent for a moment, couldn’t stop himself from responding to geto’s words. his lips tightened, his jaw setting slightly as he tried to suppress the subtle twitch at the corner of his own lips. the smile that pulled at the edge of geto’s lips was infectious, and the darker undertones in the air did not escape him. he understood that geto was speaking in a language they both shared—a language of control and manipulation, where the line between care and cruelty blurred into something much more dangerous.
for just a moment, the two of them stood in a charged silence, each aware of the shifting dynamic between them. the tension between gojo and geto was palpable, an undercurrent that you would remain unaware of for now. but in this brief moment, a shared understanding passed between them—an understanding that their influence over you was just beginning, and that they would both ensure that you came around to their way of thinking, whether you realized it or not.
the unspoken connection between them, the quiet shift in their relationship, was something you would not yet recognize, ever. but it was there, simmering beneath the surface, a storm just waiting to break.
gojo’s lips pressed together in a hard line as he fixed geto with a glare, the tension in his gaze like a quiet warning. for a moment, his usually lighthearted expression had vanished, replaced by something almost dangerous. but even as he tried to maintain his irritation, the corner of his mouth betrayed him, twitching with the beginnings of a smile that he couldn’t quite suppress.
“cut it out,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with barely concealed annoyance. “she’ll know what we do if you don’t stop acting like a maniac and a fucking psycho.”
geto merely chuckled, his laughter a soft and unnervingly calm sound that held no remorse. his smile didn’t waver—in fact, it only grew wider, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint as he gave gojo an innocent look that didn’t fool him for a second. “what’s the matter?” he asked, voice smooth and teasing, as if daring gojo to go on.
despite himself, gojo felt his own irritation start to melt into something else entirely. the smirk that had threatened to break through finally won out, his lips curving into a smile he couldn’t hold back. his gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the underlying edge in his voice.
“she’ll know we’re the ones who got her pregnant on purpose,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to geto with a knowing glint, “if you doesn’t stop acting like that.”
there was something darkly playful in his words, a mixture of affection and mischief as he spoke. it was a subtle acknowledgment of the deeper intentions that lay beneath their actions, a quiet understanding between him and geto that the two of them were deeply entwined in a plan that only they fully understood. as he looked at you, resting peacefully and oblivious to the weight of the conversation, he felt a surge of possessive affection, a fierce desire to keep you close, safe, and entirely theirs.
geto’s smile only broadened at gojo’s words, his eyes gleaming with a feral flicker that belied the affection and playfulness in his own tone. he chuckled softly, as if enjoying the twisted game they were playing.
“what, and spoil the fun?” he said, his voice lilting with a wicked sort of amusement. his gaze returned to you, his expression one of smug satisfaction as he added, “she’ll figure it out sooner or later. and by then, it’ll be too late for her to run, won’t it?”
gojo rolled his eyes at geto’s words, his irritation still simmering but now mixed with a hint of a smirk. he knew that geto was enjoying this way too much, getting a twisted sort of pleasure out of manipulating the situation to his advantage.
“don’t act like you’re not enjoying this too much,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of amusement despite himself. “you’ve never been good at hiding your sadistic and obsessive streak, suguru.”
“and you aren’t any better,” geto retorted, his voice still dripping with that same unsettling mix of amusement and dark intent. there was a challenge in his words, a subtle dare for gojo to push back. “remember, you’re the one who suggested this in the first place.”
gojo chuckled softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed down at your sleeping face, lingering on the bare curve of your shoulder and the delicate chain around your neck—a necklace adorned with the initials G.S., another quiet mark of their claim. “she doesn’t need to know,” he murmured, almost to himself, fingers lightly tracing the line of the necklace as though sealing the sentiment.
no, you didn’t need to know how they had exchanged smirks and carefully worded reassurances the night before, expertly hiding the way their words danced with a double meaning that only they understood. how the notion of not wanting a child was a game, a pretense, just so they could savor the moment you’d discover otherwise, unprepared and utterly theirs.
you didn’t need to know how each moment of intimacy was orchestrated with care, how they ensured you took every part of them without fail, their silent rituals cementing you deeper into their lives.
you didn’t need to know the subtle ways they interfered, leaving your pills out in the sun or “forgetting” to replace certain things—all with that same twisted devotion. or how they took measures to ensure no barriers stood between you and the life they had planned in secret, an existence where you were wholly theirs.
and you would never need to know. that beneath the surface of their love, a darker obsession lay, a primal need to bind you to them irrevocably, to ensure you’d stay in the house they had built for you, forever enveloped in the illusion of warmth and devotion they wove around you.
geto watched as gojo’s gaze trailed down to your necklace, a possessive glint in his eyes as he touched the initials. he knew the meaning behind that look, the quiet satisfaction that came with staking such a visible claim on you. it was one of their many quiet acts of possession, a twisted way of ensuring you were truly theirs.
he knew the lengths they had gone to for this moment, the careful planning and manipulation that had led to your ignorant bliss, and it only stoked the fire of his twisted desire even further.
his smile widened as he felt the weight of the knowledge that they were shaping your life and future without your knowledge or consent, the dark thrill of it all sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. he relished in the way they had subtly manipulated the situation, making sure you had no choice but to follow their will, and all while keeping you blinded to their true intentions.
“i wonder,” geto murmured, “how long will it take you to realize you’re a trapped bird in our grasp?” he murmured, eyes locked to your beautiful face.
his eyes gleamed with a twisted sort of satisfaction as he watched your peaceful, oblivious sleeping form. you had no idea what was in store for you, no clue how deep their control over you had already become. and by the time you finally figured it all out, it would be far too late to escape.
gojo chuckled at geto’s words, his eyes still fixed on the necklace. “you forget that she loves us,” he said, his tone carrying the confidence of someone who knew he had the upper hand. “and love can be a stronger chain than any force we can use.”
but beneath his flippant tone, there was another layer, a darker current of possessiveness that ran deep. he knew your love for him and geto went beyond what was healthy, a twisted form of affection that they had carefully nurtured. “we’ve loved her for the past ten years, we do what we do because of love.”
geto let out a dismissive snort, not entirely convinced. he knew all too well how easily love could be twisted and manipulated, used as a leash to keep someone under control.
“love isn’t always a good thing, you know that,” he muttered, his smile taking on a darker edge as he mused, “sometimes it’s just a pretty word for obsession.”
he met gojo’s gaze, his eyes cold and calculating. “and you and i both know our love for her is more possessive than it is healthy,” geto added, his voice almost gleeful at the admission.
“it’s healthy, we love her.”
geto’s smile widened at gojo’s words, his gaze calculating as he leaned back slightly, his arms folding over his chest in a manner that spoke of dominance and control. “you’re fooling yourself, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low, almost like a taunt. “love isn’t always as pure as we tell ourselves it is. sometimes, it’s just a way to justify what we want.”
he let the words linger in the air, his eyes locking with gojo’s, daring him to deny the truth. geto didn’t believe in the comforting illusions of love, not anymore. he knew the truth about the darkness that could lie beneath it, how easily love could be turned into something possessive, something suffocating.
“satoru, don’t act like we don’t both know. we’re not here because of some innocent love,” geto said, his voice a mix of amusement and malice. “we’re here because we can't stand the thought of losing her.”
gojo remained silent for a moment, his lips thinning, the air between them charged with an unspoken understanding. but then, his gaze softened, just a fraction. “we love her,” he said firmly, shaking his head as if trying to shake off geto's words. “it’s not unhealthy. we give her everything she wants, everything she needs. we don’t force her to do anything, we’ve never done anything to make her unhappy. we want to make her life perfect.”
he paused, his eyes looking toward you, still peacefully asleep between them. “it’s just... a little more love. getting her pregnant—it’s just a way to make sure she’s always ours, that we’re never apart.”
there was a certain heaviness in gojo’s words, a quiet vulnerability beneath his usual bravado. he knew, deep down, that they were both terrified of the possibility of losing you—terrified of the thought that you could slip away from them. their love, twisted as it may be, was rooted in that fear.
“it’s the right thing,” gojo continued, his voice tinged with something raw and desperate. “we just... we can’t lose her.”
geto regarded gojo silently, studying his face intently. there was a small part of him that felt a pang of sympathy at the vulnerability in gojo's words, at the fear that he saw lurking beneath his facade. but he pushed it down, refusing to let it soften him.
“you’re delusional,” he said bluntly, shaking his head. “you can call it love all you like, but the truth is, it's possession. you want to own her completely, to make her dependent on us. and you’ll stop at nothing to achieve that.”
gojo listened to geto’s words, his expression unreadable for a moment, but a soft hum escaped his lips as he leaned closer, his gaze softening as it landed on you. without a word, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.
as he pulled back, he whispered, almost reverently, “she is ours,” the words a quiet affirmation, a promise that seemed to echo through the air between them.
his fingers trailed gently across your cheek, running his knuckles over your skin, the touch delicate yet filled with a possessive warmth. there was a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watched you, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as though to reassure himself that you were still there, still his.
gojo'’ demeanor softened again, and for a brief moment, the raw, vulnerable side of him surfaced—just a fleeting glimpse of the man who feared losing you. but it was quickly masked by the quiet confidence, the undeniable possessiveness that had always been there. he wasn’t delusional, at least not in his mind. he was simply ensuring that you would never be taken from him, from both of them.
his eyes flicked to geto, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “you can call it whatever you want,” he murmured, “but this is love, suguru. and we're never letting her go.”
gojo’s hand rubs soft, gentle circles on your belly over the soft blanket, his eyes fixated on the spot where your baby is growing. a possessive smile plays at the corner of his lips, his voice soft when he speaks. “ours to love, to protect—to keep.”
geto hummed in satisfaction, his gaze lingering on you, taking in the peacefulness of your sleep. there was something about seeing you like this that made his possessiveness flare even more, but it was a contented, almost affectionate kind of obsession.
he stepped closer to gojo, his hand reaching out to rest gently against his boyfriend’s back, a subtle reassurance. “let her rest,” he said, his voice calm, though there was a quiet excitement in his tone. “she’s been through a lot.”
his fingers then slid up to gojo’s undercut, his touch soft, almost tender, as he whispered with a smile, “maybe we should start looking for a room in the house… turn it into a nursery.”
there was a spark of genuine excitement in geto’s eyes, despite knowing that it was still a long time before the baby would arrive. but that didn’t stop him from feeling an intense, almost overwhelming sense of anticipation. this was their first child, after all—their child—and he couldn’t wait for the moment when everything would finally be real.
gojo’s lips curled into a proud grin at the mention of a nursery. he knew it was too early to start planning and preparing, but he couldn’t help but jump on the idea instantly.
“yeah,” he agreed, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and adoration. “we should start working on decorating the room, picking out furniture, maybe start buying some cute little baby clothes…”
he paused, imagining the room filled with adorable cribs and soft toys, before adding with a smirk, “and maybe we should start thinking of baby names.”
geto chuckled softly at gojo’s words, a slight shake of his head as he listened to his boyfriend’s excited ramblings. the image of gojo, the usually carefree and chaotic force of nature, getting so wrapped up in something as sweet and innocent as baby names, made a rare warmth flicker in his chest.
“you’re already thinking of baby names, huh?” geto murmured with a small, knowing smile. “you really can’t wait, can you?”
gojo making sure you were comfortable and warm, adjusting the blanket around you gently before standing up. then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around geto’s waist, pulling him in close. the two of them silently left the bedroom together, moving into the hallway as the sound of their footsteps echoed softly in the quiet house.
as they walked down the hallway, the feeling of possessiveness and excitement still swirling in the air between them, geto broke the silence. his voice was low but filled with certainty, the dark gleam in his eyes never quite fading as he met gojo’s gaze.
“we are going to give her and our baby the world,” he said, his voice almost reverent, though tinged with a dangerous kind of possessiveness. “aren’t we?” his question was more of a quiet affirmation, a shared understanding between them that no one would take either of you from them—not now, not ever.
gojo gave an unapologetic nod at geto’s words, his arms tightening around his waist. there was no denying how excited he was—he couldn’t help but get carried away sometimes.
he leaned in close to geto, resting his head on the man’s shoulder as they walked down the hallway. “of course,” he murmured, his voice low and intense. “whatever they want, we’ll give them. whatever they need, we’ll provide. they’ll never want for anything.”
then, an amused smirk crossed his face as he added, “we’ll spoil them completely, won’t we?”
geto chuckled a little at gojo’s question, a small hum of agreement escaping his lips. the idea of spoiling the baby, giving them everything they could possibly want, was an appealing one, to say the least.
“you’re already plotting to give them the most lavish birthday parties, aren’t you?” he teased, his tone light though there was a hint of fond amusement in his eyes as he glanced sidelong at his boyfriend.
“we’ll give them everything they could ask for,” gojo said, his voice a low murmur. “the world isn’t enough.”
geto smiled at gojo’s response, his hand reaching up to brush a few strands of hair back from his boyfriend’s forehead. he knew gojo all too well, and the man’s tendency to go overboard when it came to you and the baby was something he was all too familiar with.
he let out a soft, amused snort, shaking his head as he commented, “lavish is an understatement, satoru. you’re probably already planning a theme park for their first birthday.”
gojo chuckled at the thought, imagining the look on the baby’s face as they explored a whole theme park built solely for them. the idea was ridiculous and over-the-top—but that was gojo all over.
“well,” he mused, his voice taking on a playful tone, “they are ours, and our baby deserves the best. so yeah, a theme park might be a good start.”
he shot a sly grin at geto, adding, “though i was actually thinking of something more grand, like maybe a petting zoo. or a small circus.” the thoughts, the ideas swimming freely in his mind, filled with each possible and the things he and geto can and would do for you and their child.
gojo groans, hiding his face on geto’s shoulder, “they haven’t been born yet and i already love them so much.”
upon hearing gojo’s ridiculous ideas for grand birthday parties for a literal baby, geto let out an amused chuckle, his expression a mix of fond exasperation. “a petting zoo,” he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “you're unbelievable. and i thought i was supposed to be the unhinged one in this relationship.”
despite the teasing comments, though, there was a hint of affection in his voice, a begrudging fondness. he knew gojo’s ridiculous tendencies, after all, and this was well within the limits of his boyfriend’s chaotic character.
gojo hummed happily at geto’s words, his face still hidden in the crook of his boyfriend’s shoulder. his heart felt so full in moments like this, where he could just imagine the future and the life they were slowly creating for themselves.
“i just love our babies so much,” he said referring to you and the future child, his voice a little bit muffled, but the tenderness was still clear in his tone.
geto rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts. gojo’s sappy side was a side that he only showed to those he trusted, and geto couldn’t deny that his boyfriend’s affectionate nature was endearing, in his own way.
“you’re such a sap,” he muttered, his voice fond. “you realize there’s still, like, what, 8 months? before the baby’s even born, right? don’t get ahead of yourself now.”
gojo lifted his head a little so he could glance up at geto, an exaggerated pout on his face. “i can’t help it,” he protested, his voice whining a little. “i’m excited, okay? i can’t help it if i’m already thinking about what we’ll dress them up as for halloween and what toys they’ll like and how we’ll decorate the nursery and so on and so on...”
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