#yandere utahime

[snail-day]

Rotations

Sum: You're a rotating nurse but you somehow became the emotional support toy for two department heads.

Yan! Shoko x Reader x Yan! Utahime

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Hospital AU, Noncon/Dubcon, Medical play, Power Imbalance, Blackmail, Overstimulation, Toxic Relationship, femdom, Crying during sex, Squirting, Dead Dove Do Not Eat. MDNI.

WC: 3.5K

a/n: Bruh, what is up with me and baby trapping lately? Anyways, Utahime has a breeding kink <3

Now, you’d think being a nurse has its cons, and yes, there’s the obvious ones. Like how it’s basically working at an airport where everyone is screaming because they missed their flight and somehow it’s your fault the weather is dogshit. Add in a little sprinkle of constant piss and vomit, and ta-da! You've got Healthcare! 

You could deal with that.

What you can’t deal with is being the rotating nurse caught between a couple that should’ve signed divorce papers five years ago. Maybe even a restraining order. 

To be fair, this isn’t your first rodeo. You already peaced out of one department after some white-haired freak and his husband couldn’t take a damn hint that your pussy only gets wet... for, well, pussy. Bless their hearts, though,  at least they didn’t drop the tired “you just haven’t met the right guy yet” line. No, they were polite. Courteous, even. Just a hum and “You know where to find us,” before the dark-haired husband sauntered back to running the psych ward. 

Which is how you ended up bouncing between two fresh levels of hell: Pediatrics, Utahime’s territory,  and ER, Shoko’s battleground.

You don’t have a favorite. Because both are nightmares in their own way.

Pediatrics? Sure, you’ll take the screeching parents, because at least they’re scared for their kid. That you can handle. What you can’t handle is the department head who stares at you like she’s already decided where the nursery’s going. Utahime doesn’t ask. She grabs. Pulls you into whatever broom closet nearest, slams the door, and chucks her pager somewhere into the abyss of trash bags and paper towels. Her lips are soft as they clash against yours, already tugging at the cartoon kittens on your scrubs as she breathes, “Aren’t the babies so cute? God, you’d look so good pregnant.”

It’s easier to pretend with her. To arch into her warm palm, to whimper when her fingers swirl against your clit, to whisper a mangled “I love you too,” because it’s the only thing that gets her to slow down, to kiss you like you’re real.

You're always relieved when her pager goes off. Thanking the universe or whatever higher power has granted you mercy. Watching her pretty pout as she pulls away, whispering she'll "make it up to you later." Honestly, you’d rather she didn’t. Because you’re left there alone, trying not to cry in a supply closet while people outside are praying their babies make it through the night.

It’d be rather pathetic to cry over your little situation, you’d think. So you better suck it up buttercup and make it through another day in the levels of hell. 

Now, Emergency,  that’s a different beast. You’re too busy to get laid most days. Shoko, at least, has the decency to admit the job sucks. Death. Blood. Screaming. She doesn’t sugarcoat it.

She just slips a little candy into your pocket with a scribbled note: Meet me by the smoking area.

And when you get there, she’s already waiting, smoke curling from her lips, eyes narrowed like she’s about to scold you for being late. But the second she sees you, she moves. No hesitation. You're slammed against the concrete wall before you can speak, her mouth ghosting over yours, cigarette still smoldering between two fingers as her free hand slips between your legs, pressing hard through your scrubs.

"You looked so sexy elbow-deep in that guy’s chest," she hums, coffee colored eyes half-lidded, voice smooth. "Bet you’d be even prettier cumming against my hand."

You barely manage a whimper before she’s moving in earnest, tight, punishing circles that leave you gasping and twitching. Your nails scrape down the wall, desperate for something to hold onto, splintering against the concrete as she keeps going.

Shoko's not the type to kiss you. Well, not during quickies like these. Doesn’t let you catch your breath. She doesn’t coo or soothe or give you anything soft.

She just works you over like another procedure, fast and efficient, done right the first time. No mistakes allowed. Just her fingers buried in your tight pretty cunt that sings for her. Leaving you only with that clinical detachment in her eyes, like you’re nothing more than a body on the table.

Her pager goes off again. She doesn’t even glance at it.

"Come on, sweetheart." Her voice is calm, almost bored. "If you take too long, that man’s gonna die. I could be there right now cracking open his ribs. But you had to come find me, huh?"

You try to apologize, try to speak, but she only tuts and presses harder, grinding her palm against the soaked fabric like it’s your fault she’s doing this.

"Jesus," she mutters, half-laughing now. "You’re already dripping. Don’t act like you didn’t want this."

And when you finally cum, hard and far too messy, crying into the crook of her neck, she only pulls back to flick her cigarette to the ground and pick up her pager.

"There we go," she says, slapping your ass once as she straightens her lab coat, already tucking her pager back into her pocket as if she didn’t make you cum against a wall in under ninety seconds. "See? That wasn’t so hard. Now let’s go save a life."

So yeah. Work is its own flavor of hell. It’s not like you haven’t tried going to HR about it. You have. Multiple times. Every time you walk in there, bright-eyed and shaking, it’s the same damn story.

"Well… they’re really respectable individuals!" "Been working here for years, you know!" "They’re married, actually! That’s sweet, right?" "No, no, it’s not that we don’t believe you - "

But their voices always trail off. Replaced by the sound of glances. The kind that say we don’t get paid enough for this.

There’s always a long pause. Then a wince from the intern behind the desk as he leans over and mutters to his mentor, “She’s crying. Should... we go?”

As if you’re the problem. As if the tears pooling in your eyes are the inconvenience, not the fact that Utahime left bite marks on your chest this morning and Shoko made you cum so hard your knees gave out ten minutes ago, between codes.

Because apparently, it’s hard to take a victim seriously when the predators have tenure and a joint tax return.

You sniffle, wiping your mascara with the back of your hand, smearing it more than anything. Your throat aches from holding it together. You’d rather be elbow-deep in shit and vomit, dealing with feral patients and hysterical family members, than sit through one more condescending HR meeting where your trauma gets filed under “miscellaneous.”

So you do what you always do. You drag your aching feet toward the locker room to clock out after your sixteen-hour shift. Your spine’s screaming, your heart in shambles, and your skin still smells like antiseptic and vomit.

You just want to go home. Take a shower. Pee. And go to bed.

But of course, there's only so much luck a person can have; they’re there.

Shoko and Utahime, mid-argument near the lockers, voices hushed. Shoko’s in her usual low drawl, arms crossed, while Utahime’s biting back fury with a tight jaw and flared nostrils. It’s nothing new. They’ve been circling each other like this for weeks.

Maybe it was just the fatigue. Maybe it was the quiet hum of fluorescent lights. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t eaten a real meal in two days.

But you break. Full-body, shaking sobs right there in the entrance to the locker room with the door shutting behind you. A foreign sound ripped from your throat, something you’ve been holding in since your first shift.

And Utahime is on you in seconds.

No longer in her bright hot pink scrubs, now dressed in something civilian, motherly perhaps, given the sweater. Slender hands move to cup your face, swiping away your tears with the pads of her thumbs. Ignoring the snot and the harsh cries echoing in the room.

"What happened?" she coos, voice sugar-sweet. "Shoko and I aren’t arguing, baby." (They were.)

She strokes your cheek, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Murmuring gentle nonsense into your hair, acting unaware that she is part of the actual problem.

Meanwhile, Shoko zips up her bag in front of her locker with all the emotional investment of someone tossing out biohazard. Her scrubs hit the bottom of the bag with a dull thud, still stained at the cuff from whatever last trauma she patched up, and her voice doesn’t so much as waver as she mutters without looking your way:

"What’s wrong? Worried we’d find out about your little HR complaints?"

Utahime shoots her a glare so sharp it could slice. You’re being mean, she mouths, tight-lipped and furious. Voice softening again the second she turns back to you. Hushing your hiccupping sobs gently, guiding you down to sit on the bench by the steel-grey lockers, her hands never wavering from your skin. You feel yourself go limp under her touch. Sometimes its better to be tended to bare it all yourself.

She moves between your legs and crouches in front of you, knees hitting the floor, perfect posture as always, warm palms sliding up your thighs. Those soft brown eyes blink up at you, too wide and warm, like she’s never done a cruel thing in her life.

"I think you’re a little overwhelmed, baby," she murmurs, her voice like honey melting in tea. "Not everybody’s built for days this long. But it’s okay. Shoko and I can take care of you."

Her voice shakes slightly at the end, not with fear, but barely restrained eagerness. You can feel it in her grip. That tremble, that quiet thrum beneath her skin like she’s thrilled. Behind the blurry shimmer of your tears, you can almost see the smile tugging at her lips. That little spark behind her lashes at the thought: You. At their place. Safe. Caged. Loved.

You glance over at Shoko.

She smiles at you, that lazy half-smirk she always wears post-shift, her tired eyes softer now that the chaos of the ER is over. She looks calm. Pleased, even. Right before she tilts her head and drawls,

"It’d be a shame if the authorities found some... really secure medication in your pockets on your way back to your apartment."

Your breath catches, but Utahime doesn’t even flinch. As if this was what they were arguing about. What to do with you.

She just hums, warm and low, and moves her hand closer to the tender heat between your thighs. Again. What was this now? Your third orgasm of the day? Maybe fourth? It all blurred together at this point.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to squirm away. "I’m too sore," you managed to mumble, voice cracking at the edges. A broken sound.

Utahime hushes you gently, her tone almost maternal as her fingers begin peeling your scrubs down your hips with gentle care.

"Shhh, baby," she coos, folding the fabric like she’s tucking in a child. "Just getting you ready to go home."

But her eyes fixate on your panties, the pretty pink rose in the front, slick with arousal. She leans in, slowly and spreads your sore legs from standing on your feet all day wider. Her pretty pink tongue drags a slow, delicate stripe over the pink cloth, circling your covered clit with cruel, experienced swipes. Dampening the cloth. Her perfectly manicured nails dig into your thighs when you try to close them. Barely hard enough to break skin, leaving pretty crescents for later when you cry in the bath looking at them.

Meanwhile, Shoko speaks casually, as if you’re not gasping from her wife's mouth.

"We got a notice from HR today," she says, nudging your chin up with two fingers. "They wanted to fire you, you know. Said you’d been a real problem lately - all that whistleblowing. But we were kind. We made sure our pretty girl was leaving on a good note... contract-wise."

You whimper as Utahime's tongue presses harder, your panties soaked now, fingers tangling into her hair, dragging against her scalp, as your hips buck without thinking. More. Your body doesn’t care that it hurts. That you’re raw. It just wants.

"We told them the whole thing was a cry for attention. That you weren’t being harassed, you were just trying to get between us. Trying to ruin our marriage."

You try to shake your head. Try to deny her. Try to say something, anything, but all that escapes is a wrecked little moan when Utahime finally hooks her fingers into your sopping panties and drags them to the side. Her breath flutters against your folds, watching you twitch and squirm as she moves to dip in. Kissing your sweet little bundle of nerves softly. Lips brushing against your folds, savoring every little taste of you. Ignoring the musk as she swirls her soft, teasing tongue over your clit.

You jerk when her thumb pushes your folds apart, the humid press of her breath causing your thighs to tremble during her first lick. A long stroke against your entrance, slow and savoring before pushing in.

The thick muscle invading your tight walls as you clench around it. Hips bucking to get her to move faster, alas, she's cruel and keeps a slow pace. A broken sob breaks through your throat. A hum vibrates against your folds, low and sweet, as she laps at you with that gentle insistence that makes your thighs forcibly close. The only thing preventing them is her death grip. Those gentle hands, holding your trembling thighs wide open as you try to writhe away from how good it feels.

A good that should feel wrong.

Your walls pathetically flutter around her tongue, helplessly clenching with each slow press deeper. She wiggles it, twisting just enough to make you gasp, and then does it again. And again.

And again.

You let out another broken, pathetic sound - high and choked - as your head falls back against the wall. Your hips try to jerk forward, trying to ride her mouth as Utahime pulls aware with the sweetest giggle. Using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth.

Shoko lets you writhe and whine for a moment before she reaches out and pulls you into her lap, arms cradling you like a doll. Her legs force yours wider, your body trembling as her slender fingers spread your delicate folds open, keeping you exposed as Utahime presses in again. Her tongue pushes into your fluttering, soaked cunt, fucking you lazily with obscene wet sounds echoing in the sterile locker room.

Shoko leans in, her lips brushing your ear.

"So?" she whispers, grip tightening. "How are you going to save our marriage?"

You can't answer.

Your back arches instinctively, helplessly, as Utahime sinks two fingers deep inside your pussy, knuckles flushed to your slick folds, her wrist working unforgiving strokes into your already sore heat. She’s not speaking anymore. Just watching. Lips parted slightly, sweat beading at her temple, eyes locked on the way your cunt sucks her in, greedy and twitching despite the overstimulation.

It’s too much. You’re raw. You’re pulsing. Your body keeps going even when your mind wants to shut down.

Shoko brushes a stray tear from your cheek with the back of her finger, so sweet you might almost forget what her and her spouse are doing, until she speaks again, voice thick like poison.

"So?"

You don’t answer again. Not even when you try to mutter a please stop. Not when Utahime curls her fingers just right, dragging across your most sensitive spot, and your whole body jolts.

Shoko chuckles softly. Shifts beneath you, keeping you cradled in her lap, her long legs spread wide to hold yours open, while her wife treats you like a patient splayed out on the table.

"I asked you a question, dove," she murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "How are you going to fix what you did?"

Utahime’s pace quickens, her palm slapping softly against your pussy with every cruel thrust. It’s wet. Messy. Loud. Resting her cheek on your thigh, not even wincing at the juice spluttering out of your leaking cunt.

You try to answer. You really do. But all that comes out is a pathetic little whimper, your voice catching as your hips jerk forward. Your hands scramble for something, anything, gripping Shoko’s sleeve, clawing at Utahime’s wrist, but neither woman falters.

"Mmm… that’s not a very good apology," Shoko sighs, fingers trailing down your stomach, pressing just above where Utahime’s knuckles disappear into you. "You lied to HR. You embarrassed us."

"Come on, baby," Utahime whispers against your inner thigh, voice trembling, "show us you’re sorry. Let us feel it."

Shoko reaches between your legs, slipping two fingers around your clit and circling slowly, not to help, but to control the rhythm. Your legs kick. Your head tilts back with a sob.

"There she goes," Shoko purrs, grinning as she watches your eyes roll back. "Sweet little slut’s finally ready to make things right."

And when you cum - again - it hits harder than it should. A scream caught in your throat, muscles clenching down on Utahime’s fingers like you’re trying to trap her inside. The world goes fuzzy around the edges.

But they don’t stop. Utahime pumps you through it, still pushing deep, still chasing the next orgasm like it’s her reward for keeping you.

Shoko leans close again, breath warm on your ear.

"That’s a start," she whispers. "But you’ll have to do better than that if you want to keep your job. Or your apartment. Or your sweet little life."

Your hips are shaking , maybe from exhaustion or even from the orgasm still echoing through your nerves. You barely register the shift until you feel it: Utahime’s third finger pushing in slow, knuckle by knuckle, joining the other two already buried deep inside your fluttering cunt.

You release a sharp gasp, a plea of sorts, and Shoko tightens her hold around you, arms banded over your chest, chin resting on your shoulder as she watches your soaked pussy stretch around Utahime’s fingers.

Utahime just grins. Not the soft smile you’re used to. Not the gentle, nurturing head-tilt of the Pediatrics department head.

No, this smile is hungry.

A little wild.

A little too pleased.

"Oh, look at you, baby," she coos, voice thick with delight. "Taking three fingers like such a good girl."

Her pace slows into a more gentle, not to give you mercy, but to make you feel every inch of her boney fingers. The slide. The stretch. The way her palm presses tight to your clit with each drag back, her wrist rolling just right.

"Didn’t think you could handle it. Thought you were sore, huh?"

You try to answer, but it’s impossible not when your mouth refuses to work work, your brain fizzed out somewhere between her second orgasm and this one.

Shoko clicks her tongue above you.

"If she passes out," she says casually, "that’s consent to take her home, right?"

You twitch, whimper, body arching between them, Utahime’s fingers pushing deeper, rubbing a spot that makes your eyes roll back.

"Mmm. Don’t worry," Shoko murmurs, brushing your hair back, "we’ve already got a room ready. Soft sheets. Bottles prepped."

Utahime doesn’t stop fucking you. Doesn’t even slow down. Her other hand rests possessively on your thigh, keeping you open, spread, obedient.

"We’ve been wanting kids for a while now, haven’t we?" she muses aloud, eyes fixed on where her wife's fingers disappear into you. "Neither of us really had the time… but maybe we just needed the right girl to stay home for us."

You shake your head weakly, but it’s useless when your cunt’s tightening, pulsing around her fingers, slick dripping to the floor with every sloppy thrust.

"Shh," Utahime whispers, listening to the way your cunt sings for her. "No need to think so hard, sweetheart. You’ll get all the rest you need when you're carrying."

All you can manage is a choked moan as you gush around her fingers, body trembling, vision blurring at the edges. You hear her giggle with excitement just before your eyes start to flutter shut.

"You're going to be such a good mommy for us"

[dollettiee]

✦ ── 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 .ᐟ

navigation. masterlist. rules. what i/don‘t write.

꒰͡⠀𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓⠀͡꒱ㅤ

𝓢 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍—𝐇𝐎 ;

home late again !

          ꒰       𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡(𝑠)       .ᐟ  .ᐣ       ᡣ𐭩 mdni. yandere, romantic yandere, soft yandere, chubby reader, petnames (yeobo, baby) could be seen as non—squid game au, fluff, bit angst, brief mentions of insecurities.

𝐂𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍—𝐉𝐔 ;

unnie !

          ꒰       𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡(𝑠)       .ᐟ  .ᐣ       ᡣ𐭩 mdni. crybaby! reader, soft yandere, yandere behavior, reader is younger than 12.. chubby! reader. reader calls hyunju unnie.

𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐆—𝐘𝐎𝐎/𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐍 ;

special valentine !

          ꒰ 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡(𝑠) .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩 mdni. yandere, soft yandere, mentioned of slapping, reference to the bread and lottery episode, reader is blind, not much dialogue cus i was a bit lazy in this one, reader is written as chubby, man is so lovestruck, petnames (honey, darling)

꒰͡⠀𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒⠀͡꒱ㅤ

𝓢 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

none

꒰͡⠀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒⠀͡꒱ㅤ

𝓢 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

none

꒰͡⠀𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒⠀͡꒱ㅤ

𝓢 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄

none

© all rights reserved ! none of these images belongs to me ! don‘t copy, plagiarize or modify my works. all works are taken in a form of fiction, do not condone any problematic behavior.

[envy-of-the-apple]

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

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.

[sidsinning]

Yo girl keep it together!

More Heathers!Gojohime

[ddarker-dreams]

being loved by both gojo and geto kinda sounds like a nightmare TBH

[sukioyakio]

Between you and your grumpy villain looking husbands he had it worst when having memorable moments with his and yours baby.

Just like the one time all three of you were sleeping peacefully,not a sound could ruin this blissful night but that wouldn't stay blissful any longer until your sweet angel- or “devil brat “ is what Sukuna says

-Woke up and instead of making any sound to let the two of you know that she was awake she got her chubby little legs and climb on top of sukuna face making him slowly wake up for the fat chubby weight on top of him all of a sudden.

The next thing you know was that sukuna See that his little daughter was jumping on his face with giggle sipping out of her mouth but holy crap he look terrified when he smelled straight up shit in his lips and nose.

And without realizing that your so called angel fucking smeared shit on top of his face making him place her down on the bed and ran through the bathroom.

Louds groans and spiting sounds were heard from the bathroom easily waking you up From the sounds,you quickly rubbed your eyes and jerk up,looking around for your baby until you spot her and that horrible smell.

It didn’t take two to connect where smell was. Your wonderful sweetheart displayed with such innocence but what was not innocent was the shit stained on the clean bed sheets that you had such pleasure cleaning yesterday morning.

The scent of your wonderful baby was literally dreadful like the kind of dreadful that crime scenes are describe in a crime documentary type of thing.

Your face scrunch up in confusion. Ok, yes, she poops like she could kill someone but why was your husband in the bathroom spitting unless something that would be your worst fear has happened. ..

“She got her shit in my FUCKING mouth!!” He yelled furiously as he run water in his mouth,Gagging water down his mouth and tongue.

“Oh..” You whispered with a quiet gasp.Little nova looks at you even in the dim light,as if she could see you perfectly.And her face constructs into a bright smile as well as a few giggles.

Her giggle were contagious effecting you in the same way,your lips trying to not look like your gonna laugh at him but you couldn’t hold it anymore.You laugh out in colorful lights,as well as your baby girl.

As if she finds her father dealing her made shift hell was funny,and you couldn’t help but form a small smile.As a second goes by, and the water stops running. Silence seeps in fast but after a while, only Sukuna’s frustrated voice was heard.

“She Even GOT SOME OF HER SHIT IN MY HAIR!!” He yells at loudly, perfect for you two to hear,making you jump out of you blankets but quickly return in bed just in case your little star decides to do a dangerous spider man land.

His ragged voice made you and nova both giggles.

Sukuna grumble slurs under his mouths, as he went to get a grab his towels,And quickly turned back into the bathroom with a moody look.

“What a lovely way to wake up from” you heard Sukuna’s sarcastic remark.Making you smirk playfully.Nova’s little head turns up in curiosity; towards the direction of the lit up bathroom.

sukuna still has the baby scent on his noses and it smell horrible. God, this isnt one of the way of the ways he would like to be wake up too,especially from his baby.

‘The little brat poop’s more then yuji was when he was fucking young’ Sukuna said to himself.

The bathroom water started to come to your ears as you started to grab the baby to the change her papmer.

And then you saw the crime.It was slightly hanging open.And then the scent became even more stronger,you scrunched up your nose. God…she would kill anyone if she wanted.

The brown shit color had some green color to it,making you do a throwup sounds,as nova doesn’t seem to be faze by the smell but seem to see your expression and smile and giggles loudly.

“Jezz Girl… you’re so nasty” you sigh while chuckling. This little punk is what got the best laughter from you in your whole life.you and sukuna but sukuna wouldnt say anything about it.

But you seen him having the most smile when he playing with your baby. It’s cute and wholesome. too bad sukuna is dying in the inside right now.

Speaking of sukuna he’s been there about like ten minutes or 30 minutes now? Hmm… even baby misses him.

You wonder what if mr grump will answer you about how the baby poop taste.probably not. Maybe later? You chuckle to yourself.

As you tickle nova’s feet smiling at her beautiful giggles sound;staring at her attentively tracing her birth mark that were under her eyes bags.Later you went to put Nova to sleep and went to bed yourself.

Sukuna would get out with a different clothes and had probably washes his teeth for about five times. But when he got out of the bathroom. He walks towards the bed quietly. He pauses before getting inside the bed.

As he looks down the beautiful sight infront of him;how your arms wraps around your baby gracefully.How you both look so peaceful.He hadn’t even notice how his lips were moved into a smile.

He knew that you wouldn’t see it, and he silently whispers to himself.

‘You both little punks are my world..’He promised to himself as he lay down on the bed,his body made the bed creek a bit but slowly he wraps his large arms around the both of you,His head laying on your shoulder later falling asleep.

thank you for reading this.This a alton universe of ‘use me then.’ I hope y’all like this one too. sorry about the grammar mistake.

Taglist: @lil-annonie @scoobysnakz @mxrgodsstuff @lynxslokley @mononijikayu

Made by @sukioyakio 2024

[manikas-whims]

Do you know any mangas that have that Gojohime couple dynamic?

sorry for such a late response anon..i’m not even sure if you check my blog these days but here's some mangas that remind me of GojoHime arranged in the order of most to least similar:

♡ Namaikizakari

• Similarity: its quite like GojoHime in that the female lead is older than the male lead. They are senpai-kouhai just like Gojo and Utahime.

• This is a Sports Shoujo Manga. There's gonna be a lot about basketball as the male lead is a basketball player at his school and the female lead works as a manager for the team.

• Boy likes the girl and decides to pursue her.

♡ The Apothecary Diaries

• Similarity: LITERALLY GOJOHIME IN A HISTORICAL SETTING. the amount of times I've heard people call them gjhm coded. Plus all the crossover fanarts I've seen as well as the fact that Gojo’s ENG VA also voices Jinshi.

• This is a historical, seinen drama. It will revolve around the concubines of the emperor and the royal court politics and conspiracies a lot. Female lead is an apothecary and the male lead’s position in the royal court is somewhat ambiguous but he definitely holds a high position. (DO WATCH THE ANIME)

• Boy develops an interest and later on, a crush on the girl. She dgaf about him. She's very much like Utahime in that 😆. The girl realises her own like for him slightly later. “Hissing Black Cat GF + Happy Golden Retriever BF”

♡ Kaichou wa Maid-sama

• Similarity: very similar because the male lead seems to be good at (and better) at everything, and is quite insufferable. Female lead does not bother with his shit 😆 “the one who easily gets Annoyed + the one who loves to Annoy” dynamic.

• This is a famous classic Shoujo and it’d be surprising if you don't know it already. High School Romance with a lot of comedy, and the occasional heavy moments. The development of the female lead and male lead, and the conclusion is one of my favs.

• Boy develops an interest in the Girl and slowly falls for her. Girl too, slowly begins to see the better sides of him and begins falling for him.

♡ The Script

• Similarity: the hair color? lol the hair colors are similar but aside from that the male lead and the female lead have similar dynamics as the above mentioned.

• Fantasy Romance Manhwa. It also has a light novel (right cover pic) which imo is better. The male lead shape-shifts into a white tiger. The female lead is a shaman and an exorcist. She helps undo curses on people. Love the plot!

• Boy fell first when they met during their childhood. The girl has forgotten him but soon remembers and her feelings reignite as well.

♡ Dreaming Freedom

• Similarity: just like the rest above. Sly Guy and Naive Girl who slowly becomes equally sly 🤭

• ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: Yandere Male Lead, Toxic Relationship, Self Harm, Physical & Emotional Harm to others. This is a psychological, sorta surreal manhwa. It's about lucid dreaming and it's long term effects with a magical twist added so please do look that up if you don't know already.

• Boy fell first is obsessed with the Girl. Boy is possessive and jealous. The Girl becomes equally jealous and possessive of him so if you're into that you'll enjoy.

Hope at least one of these recommendations is to your liking and you have a great time reading! 🥰

[lilacxquartz]

lilac’s bite sized jjk yandere nightmares masterlist

about: exploring darker yandere with short stories/8 chapters max fics—updated every monday with sometimes a break if a chapter/story needs more time.

tw: some of these works will be very intense, the generalised tag is dead dove, but the specific warnings will be listed in the work or chapter as it gets updated. links lead to ao3 as well as tumblr.

ao3 • main masterlist

blessed with blue • tumblr link

angel satoru gojo x mortal reader

to save a broken soul • tumblr link

suguru geto x cursed spirit reader

pretty little trinket • tumblr link

harpy shoko x human reader

beyond hellfire • tumblr link

true form sukuna x reader

the life you lived

kenjaku x vessel reader

limited edition doll

mahito x reader

symbiosis

(turning) zombie choso kamo x reader

entombed

yuki tsukumo x reader

damsel in distress

king kento nanami x peasant reader

in my web

monster utahime x adventurer reader

passenger princess

shiu kong x reader

the lies we tell

higuruma hiromi x reader

never let you go

ghoul naoya x widowed reader

too pretty to die

takuma ino x reader

[ysaefinn]

ᯓᡣ𐭩Gojo Satoru

-Househusband!Satoru blurb (sfw, fluff, domesticity)

-Husband!Gojo fingers his wife (NSFW/romantic)

ᯓᡣ𐭩Geto Suguru

-Suguru's morning ritual blurb (sfw/domesticity/fluff)

-Taking care of Suguru after a bath (fluff/romance)

-Cultleader!Suguru's devotion (yandere undertones)

-Suguru coddles you when you're pouty (blurb)

-Seduction (fluff/suggestive/romance)

-My sword ensures your crown (Royal AU/yandere!knjght!suguru)

-Suguru NSFW headcanons

-Giving Suguru head for the first time (NSFW/romantic)

-Messy baby (Tw: piss kink, infantilization, mommy kink)

-Overprotective (Sfw/yandere undertones)

-Pecs (Sfw/ Suguboobs appreciation blurb)

-Caught with your panties around your ankles (Nsfw, Heavy infantilization)

Happy mother's day mommy!(Nsfw)

ᯓᡣ𐭩Utahime Iori

-Hair bow (NSFW)

-Lady in waiting Utahime (Royal AU/yearning)

ᯓᡣ𐭩SatoSugu

-Dilf boyfriends keep their baby blissfully unemployed

(More to be added :3)

[divinityandfanfics]

“ Foolish Love ”

DIVINITY

a/n; remember - yandere reader !!

blurb; “reader is inlove with satoru, but reader jumps into conclusions too early.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ STARRING: GOJO SATORU , IORI UTAHIME

WARNINGS:

murder , satoru has no clue that utahime is 6 ft under and that reader is utahime , yandere reader , mentions of blood , immense guilt in the end

SHIPS MENTIONED:

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ SATORU GOJO X READER (not really?)

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ SATORU GOJO X UTAHIME IORI

REMINDERS;

☆ afab!reader

☆ reader is a yandere, do not continue if you do not like murder

____________________________________________

LOADING; PLEASE WAIT ...

✧ | ███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ |

✧ | █████▒▒▒▒▒ |

✧ | ██████████ |

LOADING COMPLETED - PLEASE CLICK START !

---------

| START |

---------

____________________________________________

“because you’re weak.” you watch satoru talk to utahime, who was his senior, basically mocking and teasing her.

your jealousy overloaded, looking at satoru and utahime who was making a fuss in the hallway. satoru was grinning at her with those beautiful lips that only you should see.

you frown, seeing satoru’s cheeks have a tint of pink on them because utahime leaned in closer to him. he likes her.

your eyes darkened. catching glance after glance at both of them. mainly giving utahime death stares, but you won’t admit that.

not to your satoru.

remembering your technique, you already know what to do.

your technique was shapeshifting, but, in order to shapeshift, you need the blood of whatever or whoever you’re going to shapeshift into. yes, when you shapeshift into a sorcerer, you get their cursed techniques too.

big amounts of blood = more time in the body

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you pretend to be angry at satoru, in order for him to believe you are utahime iori.

the girl that you were, ( y/n l/n ) was no more.

you would pretend to be someone else for satoru.

everything for him, right?

the world does not compare to him, he has a beautiful face, overpowered techniques, and he has money.

the perfect man.

so, utahime’s blood on your hands was worth it.

feeling satoru so close, talking to you.

you loved it.

you would stay in utahime’s body forever if it means satoru falling in love with you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“come on, utahime! you’re so boring.” satoru tells you, and you look up at him with a fake scowl on your face.

‘i know, satoru. she’s boring. you need someone like me.’ you thought, before answering; “well, sorry if i don’t like to cause mischief, gojo.”

you hated calling him that.

gojo? why not satoru? satoru just feels right.

satoru, the love of your life.

satoru, the man you would kill for.

considering you already killed for him.

you hated calling him gojo.

it’s because it’s his last name.

not his name, his given name.

whatever, you’ll start to call him satoru after a few months in utahime’s body.

you can just lie that you start to get used to suguru calling him satoru.

“maaann, you’re so boring. ehehe!” satoru giggles like a child as he pokes your cheek.

you had to force the glare on your face, slowly turning you head to him.

“s- gojo! stop that!” you huff, but satoru does not stop. oh to be utahime,

to have the perfect man drool over you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you are now dating satoru!

utahime.. is.. i guess..?

now, you’re probably wondering; what about your body? your identity?

you faked your death as you killed utahime, you see, not only can you shapeshift, you can also make other people shapeshift.

you just needed a big amount of your blood.

big enough to last years, and the police found “your” corpse.

and, if everything goes wrong, you, as utahime, just need to give people hints that utahime killed you.

* ring, ring. *

oh! satoru was calling you to go on a date with him.

so, you accepted.

you guys agreed on a nearby café.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“hi utahime~” satoru calls over to you, who was already sitting on a table he picked.

you didn’t want to get reminded of what you did to utahime all the time, so..

“please, don’t call me that, ’toru.” you smile down at him.

“why nott?” he fakes a pout.

“just give me a cheesy nickname or something, we’re dating and you still use my government name?” you scoff at him, holding back a smile.

“okay, hm.. what about- darling!?” he says, as you sit down on the chair in front of him, the table between you both.

“sure,” you nod, i mean, you would want to be called darling by satoru gojo himself.

satoru was looking at you ever so beautifully.

now, you should ask him the question!

“’toru,” you started, and he looked at you with a confused look. “before she died, what did you think of ( y/n )?” you as utahime asked.

“oh, ( y/n )?” satoru repeated. “well, she was very attractive, and very kind too. she was like suguru, you know, i liked her a lot.” your eyes widen.

“she was very helpful, her cursed technique was kinda cool too. i mean, you’re the woman i love now, but.. i liked her back then.” he said.

your heart dropped.

“w-well, why did you stop liking her?” you asked.

“was it because of her death?” you added.

“well, yes mainly, but it was because i thought she deserved someone better. i mean, she acted so sweetly around me. but, i wanted her to end up with someone who can act serious around her. i don’t trust myself enough, and i knew that there were plenty of fish in the sea.”

“i thought about asking her out, but then it was reported that she died.” he frowned.

you were still, completely shocked.

“are you okay?” he asked.

and you shrug him off, “yeah, just thought of something. h-hey, i’ll just go to the bathroom, yeah? i just get a little nervous when the topic is about dead people.” you lie.

he says okay, and you rush to the bathroom.

your tears overflowed, you killed for someone who actually liked you back.

you felt so stupid. why did you do this?

you killed an innocent person for.. nothing.

maybe you should’ve confessed first before this.

[snail-day]

Thinking about mornings with yan! Shoko x reader x yan! Utahime

TW: Yandere Behaviors, emotional manipulation from utahime.

You’re not sure who’s holding you until your cheek registers the warmth beneath it, smooth skin and the soft beat of a steady heart. Then there’s the smell of antiseptic on clean sheets, the faint press of a cigarette-scented kiss against your forehead.

Shoko.

Most of the time, she sleeps on her back, an arm wrapped firmly around your waist like a weight, keeping you close. Her skin is cool, the kind that drinks in your warmth. You shift slightly, and her hold tightens. Barely awake, she hums, voice raspy and full of sleep.

“Mm-mm. Where do you think you’re going?”

Your lips part to answer, but you don’t get the chance. She tugs you back in until your face is buried against the soft curve of her chest, one hand stroking lazily through your hair. Her other palm spreads across your back. Possessive. Loving in a way as her fingertips glide across your skin.

“I’m on call this morning,” she murmurs into your hair, a soft peck. “Didn’t want to wake you, but I hate going in without you.”

You blink blearily against her skin. “I thought you said I could sleep in today…”

A low chuckle. “You can. In my office. On the cot. Where I can check on you between patients.” Her thumb rubs a slow, dizzying circle against your spine. “Can’t concentrate without you close, Dove. Stresses me out. Makes me smoke more, you understand right?”

When you try to protest, she kisses your hair again, soft and final.

“No baby, you can’t leave my side. You know that.”

On the mornings Utahime has you in her clutches, it’s different, but just as smothering. With her in bed, it's much warmer, messier, ruffled floral sheets and tangled limbs. You wake to her breath on your neck, slender arms wrapped tight around your middle, her body pressed flush against your back. You try to shift and feel the grip tighten.

“No,” she whines softly, voice thick with sleep. “Stay.”

You’re groggy and barely able to function, but she’s already coaxing you back into the crook of her body, cupping your chest with one hand and pressing a sleepy kiss to your shoulder. Her voice, though sweet, holds an edge of warning - don’t even try to leave me yet.

“You’re so warm,” she whispers, nuzzling close. “I can feel your heartbeat. Don’t you want me to know you’re safe?”

A pause.

“…Don’t you want to make sure I’m okay?”

You give in. You have to pick your battles with this one.

Eventually, she coaxes you out of bed and into a warm bath. She sits behind you, running sudsy, soft hands across your chest and up your arms, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your shoulder. “We have to match today,” she murmurs as she helps you dry off, already laying out coordinated outfits. Something traditional, as always. “You’re my precious girl. Everyone needs to know that.”

And when you ask what you’ll be doing with her that day, she smiles.

“Oh, nothing much,” she says lightly. “Just sitting with me in class, looking cute. That’s your whole job, baby.”

She cups your face in both hands, chestnut eyes soft, voice quieter - deadly sweet.

“And you won’t talk to anyone, right? You won’t even look at them unless I say it’s okay?”

You nod. Slowly. Sleepily.

Her lips press against yours. Lingering. Savoring. As if she could drink you whole.

“Good girl.”

[mia-can-yap-too]

part two here

What? :- 'Gojo's step wise guide to wooing your dream girl!'

Warnings :- fluff, crack, sfw, kind of yandere!gojo (very minimal though), mentions of stalking (it’s not as dark as it seems i swear), Shoko falling off a tree (she’s okay)

“This is going to work!” Gojo insists.

Suguru rolls his eyes as Shoko looks at the PowerPoint presentation Gojo prepared with boredom. “This is not going to work.”

“You just don’t have faith in me! Just see, all these steps are completely foolproof! She’ll fall for me before even she knows it!”

Gojo shrinks under your hard glare and avoids your eyes like the plague.

He had bumped into you just as planned. The only problem was that he was trying so hard to be nonchalant that he didn’t notice the steaming cup of coffee in your hands.

“What, are you blind?! My new shirt is completely ruined!”

Gojo hesitates. This was not planned, but nonetheless the show must go on.

Onto the second part of Step 1; drop a cool one liner.

He puts on his usual smug smirk and makes sure to thread his fingers through his hair in a way he knows makes girls swoon.

“Guess I just found the hottest thing in the room, and it wasn’t that coffee you just spilled all over yourself.”

Your eyes widen as his audacity renders you speechless. Did he really just blame it all on you?!

“T-that I spilled over?! God, you really are as insufferable as Utahime said!”

You passive aggressively throw the empty cup into a bin, flip your hair hard enough that it slaps his face and storm away from him.

Reaction gauged. Fit of rage and anger.

At least you looked hot screaming at him and he got to smell your shampoo, so he’ll take it as a successful mission.

Smiling giddily, he walks away with a skip in his step to have a talk with Utahime.

After some casual looking around forcing Ichiji to find out Gojo found a bookstore that you just so happen to frequent. Wow, what a coincidence!

With his signature sunglasses stylishly propped on his nose, he fakes surprise when he sees you in an aisle.

“Oh my God, is that you, Y/n? I didn’t know you were such a nerd. I also come here often, you can never have too much knowledge you know? Next Aristotle type shit, heh.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Ah, so it seems you still haven’t gotten over the coffee incident. Good thing the next part of the plan is perfect for this!

“Let me buy you a book. Or five. As a peace offering for the coffee incident. And also because I’m rich and generous and charming.”

“Charming? You ruined my shirt!”

“Exactly! That’s why I’m buying back your forgiveness in paperback form!”

And so, Gojo follows you like a lost puppy as you try to find a book.

He grabs a book that catches his eye. “This one has a dragon on it, wait, no there’s a shirtless guy too, don’t buy this one.” He puts it away and grabs another one. “How about this instead? There’s three aliens fighting in space. Romance, too. You’re into romance, right?”

You scoff. “What makes you think I’m into reading a ‘why-choose trashy alien romance’ book?”

He continues to trail close behind you when you move into another isle. Eyes a bit bright, you pick up a Kafka book.

Gojo raises his brows from underneath his sunglasses skeptically. “Kafka? Wasn’t that guy clinically insane?”

“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”

He sighs dramatically. “Why are you so into serious books? Why don’t you read something like ‘How to Fall in Love with the Guy that Spilled Coffee on You’”?

“That’s not a book.”

“Yet.”

His eyes wander to a display of bookmarks stacked in a way that would attract customers.

He snorts. “Ha, look at the way they stacked the— Ow! My finger! Papercut!”

People look as he starts to cause a scene, loudly exclaiming how he would never be able to use his hand again.

In order to save yourself from the embarrassment, you quickly grab your book and end up paying for it yourself.

Gojo catches up to you and insists to walk you home, mouth never shutting and his finger wrapped in a paper towel like some badge of glory.

You and Gojo just completed a low stakes mission in an abandoned amusement park. Or, rather, he did.

He was obviously showing off with the way he was dancing around the curse, dodging attacks like second nature. He obliterated the curse in one flashy move and dusted his jacket off like it was a chore.

His white hair is still perfectly styled and his glasses are pristine. You, however, are left picking popcorn out of your hair.

Gojo turns to you, somehow glowing. “That was just a warm up, can you believe they sent their strongest and their hottest after a low grade like this? Anyways, mission’s over, do you want me to carry you bridal style for dramatic effect?”

You are very much not impressed. “Warm up? Gojo, you blew up the popcorn machine and almost hit a pigeon.”

He just winks at you. “Collateral damage in the name of looking cool is always worth it.”

A few days later, he is ready to commence the next part of Step 3.

After three days of continuous begging for help, he managed to convince Suguru and Shoko (with the promise of cigarettes) to aid him.

You are currently sitting on a bench at the park, with Gojo sitting next to you, bothering you like always.

Out of nowhere, you hear a suspiciously tall elderly woman with an obnoxiously high-pitched voice scream, “Oh no! My puppy! It’s stuck in a tree!”

Since when do dogs climb tree?

Quickly, you both approach the 'elderly woman' like the good Samaritans you are, with Gojo being the much more eager one.

"Worry not, you old hag! I'll get your dog in no time!" With that he rushes to climb the tree.

With Gojo out of the way, you finally get to have a good look at the 'elderly woman'.

The 'elderly woman' who's mop of grey hair was revealing straight black hair underneath. And who also has gauges. And who's eyes are concealed by thin oval glasses. And who is more or less 6 feet tall...

Flabbergasted, your eyes widen. "Suguru, is that you?!"

The 'elderly woman' shakes her head frantically. "Suguru? Who's that? Oh, look over there! Your boyfriend has already climbed the tree! What a brave gentleman, you must be very lucky to have him!"

Sure, enough, Gojo is at the top of the tree with the dog secured safely in his arms, waving like a madman at you.

From the corner of your eye, you see another figure up in a nearby tree, trying to get down without falling. A figure with a bob cut. A figure who looks like she uses RCT.

"S-Shoko?!"

She falls down.

Gojo lands gracefully next to you, and shoves the dog in Suguru's arms.

"Being so strong and wonderful and amazing gets so tiring sometimes." He says as he casually flexes his muscles.

It takes him a moment to realize that his friends' cover has been blown. "Y/n! There's this mochi shop I've been dying to try! Let's go! Right now!"

He takes your hand and starts to pull you away. "B-But weren't those Suguru and Shoko?!"

"Uh, no? Probably just a huge coincidence, don't worry about it!"

You do not believe him.

(if it isn’t obivious Shoko put the dog in the tree, that’s why she was on the tree)

Gojo and you are sitting in a booth at a 24-hour ramen shop.

The both of you have just finished a mission, your clothes still damp with sweat and hair disheveled.

Gojo slurps his ramen loudly, an obvious contrast to the soft pitter patter of the rain outside. He pretends to be deep in thought and sighs dramatically every two minutes.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet ever since we walked in,” you ask

Gojo answers gravely, still looking off into the distance. “Sometimes… I look at the rain and wonder if it’s the sky crying… or just me, perhaps.”

You sigh internally. “…You’re inside. Eating noodles, Satoru.”

“That’s what makes it metaphorical.”

Silence ensues.

“Back when I was a kid… the clan members, they…”He trails off, eyes getting misty.

You listen intently now. Sure, he made you annoyed, but you weren’t heartless. It wasn’t like you hated him. “What did they do?”

“They…” he sniffs, “they would never let me eat mochi for breakfast… it was so cruel.”

You take it back. You do hate him. “Are you serious, right now?”

“How could they deny a one-of-a-kind child like me his means to live? But it’s okay now, I can buy all the mochi I want.”

Silence ensues once more.

Suddenly, he digs through his pocket and retrieves a tiny notebook labeled “Thoughts of a Lonely Sorcerer”. He flips open a page and reads aloud, “Entry #69, am I the strongest…or just the most alone?”

You glare at him. “Satoru, I will throw that book into the broth.”

He is unfazed. “You wouldn’t destroy art.”

You deadpan. He eats a whole egg like a sad little seal.

“Sometimes, I think I joke too much… because if I stopped, I’d cry.”

“Sometimes, I think I’m going to cry. Because you never stop.”

At the end of the night, he tries to make you listen to his playlist titled “Sad Boy Infinite Void” which you end up renaming to “Cry me a Satoru.”

He stand across from you, mouth pulled into his signature smug smirk.

Cracking his knuckles, he says, “Alright, let’s spar! I’ll go easy on you since you’re so pretty.”

You roll your eyes, something you seem to do a lot when you’re around him. “Go easy on yourself. I won’t.”

With that you charge at him. But just as you’re an inch away from hitting him, he disappears, which makes you trip and fall.

You turn around to look at him behind you, hanging upside down from a tree like a bat. “Did it hurt?” he asks smugly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t you dare.”

“When you fell for me during this fight just now?”

You throw your staff at his face. He dodges.

After some pleading, you get him to seriously train with you. Halfway through, he insists you stop for a water break.

Instead of giving you the water, he holds it hostage. “Say I’m handsome and you can hydrate,” he smirks.

You forcefully rip it from his hands. “Say you’re annoying and I’ll shove this down your throat.”

He gasps. “Kinky. But fair.”

He sits down next to you as you drink.

“You know… I usually flirt with everyone… but with you, I actually mean it,” he says softly.

You are stunned for a moment. A blush climbs up you face too.

But of course since it’s Gojo Satoru, he ruins the moment almost immediately.

“Also you have something on your face. It’s my future.”

You get up and leave that instant.

He calls after you, nonetheless. “WAS THAT TOO MUCH? BE HONEST!”

a/n:- this was a lot of work. Hope you enjoyed tho! the next five steps will be in part 2, which will come out soon too!

taglist:- @jeonwiixard @pickledsoda @satorus-princess @rohfulike @stxrysnow @nonamebbsblog @sukunaslilsocks

Oh, you’re curious about my past works? Well, luckily for you, all the deliveries are neatly archived! Just head over to the Archive of Deliveries and browse through what I’ve sent out in the past. Enjoy the trip down memory lane!

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?

— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji

gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)

“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.

the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.

“but if you keep up with that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.

“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”

“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.

“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.

“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”

“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”

gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.

“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t ya?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”

gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used the honorific with.

“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“

“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“

“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.

“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.

“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.

he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.

“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”

“that’s rude, toji is—“

“did you think you could change him or something?”

“i— no, why—“

“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.

“gojo, i swear—“

“was it the sex?”

you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.

“jackpot” satoru whispers.

“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.

“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.

“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”

“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.

gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.

“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”

“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.

“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”

“no!”

“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.

“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.

“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just waiting for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.

“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.

“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.

“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.

“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.

“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”

“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.

“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”

“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.

“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.

“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.

satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.

“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.

“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.

“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.

“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”

satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.

he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.

he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—

“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.

“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”

“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.

which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.

when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.

“desk, now” you demand needly.

“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.

you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.

you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.

“ask me” he pleads.

“for what?”

“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.

“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.

gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.

the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.

“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.

“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.

“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.

“unbelievable…”

“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.

“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.

he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.

his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.

“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.

the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.

or was it something else you feared?

“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.

“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”

“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.

“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.

“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.

“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.

“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.

“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.

“you’re not… on anything?”

“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”

“go on” gojo massages your thigh.

“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.

satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.

“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.

all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.

the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.

“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.

he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.

“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.

he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.

“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.

you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.

“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.

you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.

“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.

he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.

god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

if only…

“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.

after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”

“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.

“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.

you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”

“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.

gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.

a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.

gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.

“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.

gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.

“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.

on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.

“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”

“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.

“about… us? of course not.”

“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.

“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”

“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”

“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.

“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”

“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.

“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.

before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.

satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.

he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

23:54pm: three’s a crowd

warnings: 18+ mdni, stalking, trespassing, voyeurism, yandere!sukuna, pervy!sukuna, nonconsensual recording, mentions of panty stealing, mild act of violence, masturbation, not proofread

college student!sukuna had been deathly quiet since shoko squealed about your date with a guy on your course to the rest of the group. everyone was over at gojo’s frat house for drinks, just the ‘inner circle’ (gojo’s words), to catch up. and for reasons that continue to elude you, your bff thought it would be the funniest thing ever to make you reveal your plans over a stupid game of truth or dare. 

you couldn’t bring yourself to glance at college student!sukuna whilst the group howled and wolf-whistled. perhaps it was because you knew there would be no reason to; he isn’t your boyfriend, you owe him nothing. but maybe, just maybe, it was because you weren’t brave enough to find the answer to a question you had been asking yourself when you said yes to your classmate. 

would he care?

it would, undoubtedly, break your heart if he was cheering you on just like everyone else. so, after the events of last night, you go to your date with an excitement that didn’t come naturally, like a plastic mask, rigid and cheap. but you enjoy yourself regardless - he’s sweet, kind and cute in a boy-next-door type of way. he makes you laugh, he opens doors and pays for dinner. 

of course, you don’t plan on inviting him up to your apartment, even if shoko had excused herself for the night with a salacious wink, choosing to room with utahime to ‘cleanse’ themselves from ‘male energy’. but when you make the mistake of viewing gojo’s story just as he’s dropping you off at your door and see that your friend’s at yet another party, you change your mind. 

because there in the background is college student!sukuna with a girl clinging to his shirt with her leg thrown over his lap and her face buried in his neck. in a flurry of hastily thrown clothes and clumsy clashing of teeth, you wind up in your bed with this boy before you even realise that your front door had been unlocked. 

college student!sukuna wasn’t pleased to hear the news, to say the least. what you hadn’t seen was the flex of his jaw, the tick of his brow and the darkening look in his eyes. he decided there and then that he was going to ruin your plans. at first, he figured he could crash your date or spread rumours the guy had an std or a micro-penis. but then he thought he should let the boy take you on a date so you could at least get a free dinner, his girl shouldn’t go hungry after all. 

college student!sukuna chose to distract himself by tagging along with the guys to a sorority party, allowed a girl to touch him up so he could pretend it was him you were with. 

but then a thought occurred to him; a free dinner might not be all the guy would offer. with a sudden fury, he threw aside the girl whose name he never actually heard, nor asked for, and drove over to your place. he had a spare key made that neither you nor shoko knew about, so he let himself in, planning to sit on the sofa, fists ready to be thrown if someone other than you (or shoko) came through the door. 

that was he had originally planned. 

college student!sukuna hadn’t intended to be distracted by the realisation that your room would be empty. he was just going to sniff your pillows and rifle through your dirty laundry basket for new material. he hadn’t meant to be distracted by a lingerie set hanging in your closet. so when he heard the sudden rush of footsteps he made the split decision to tuck himself away with your clothes, leaving a crack for him to peer through. 

so there he is, fighting the urge to drag that stupid guy off you and replace him with his own body. he knows for a fact he can make you feel so much better than that loser. guy didn’t even bother eating you out, didn’t look up from your tits to see if your face is scrunched up from pleasure. certainly doesn’t even think to suffocate you with his mouth and tongue or to bend you into different positions to leave you sore all over. 

you’re only in your bra and your skirt’s pooling over your waist whilst the guy thrusts without any kind of rhythm into you. he’s sweaty and loud, like a pig, and you hate the feeling of his baby-soft, clammy hands on your skin and the high pitched whining in your ear. you find yourself craving rough palms gripping your hips, low growls vibrating through your bones, hard muscles pinning you down to the bed, maybe a hand pressing you into your pillows as you get plowed down with relentless thrusts. 

why did you let jealousy fuel your actions?

possibly one of the stupidest things you’d ever done. 

college student!sukuna agrees. he knows you’re regretting it, can tell by the half-hearted moans you’re pushing out, by your limp arms, and by the fact that the guy comes only a couple minutes later. the noticeable annoyance on your face might make him laugh if it isn’t for the incessant throbbing in his jeans. 

it doesn’t even occur to him to be worried about what would happen if you found him in your closet with a boner because all he can focus on is your creeping hands teasing your folds before you begin rubbing your clit with a frustrated fervour. you have your phone in your hand, clearly needing visual stimuli to get going. 

college student!sukuna wishes he could see what you’re looking at, itching to know what sick kinks you have hiding in there and desperate to know if they align with his. your date’s passed out, snoring away with his dick barely tucked back in, and you’re cupping your tit over the lace as you moan under your breath, desperate to keep quiet. 

your orgasm is weak, barely there and you hate that gross feeling of bodily fluids and bad decisions catching up to you. eventually, you push yourself up and head into the bathroom to clean up, hoping the guy will leave by the time you’re done. when you come out, you’re pleased to see he is, you don’t even care he didn’t say bye or thanks, and you’re sure he won’t ever contact you again. 

thank god.

college student!sukuna left too. snuck out right behind your date and shoved him into a bush from behind before getting into his car to rush back home so he could release the ache in his cock. he almost reached into his jeans to jerk off in time with your hand but decided against it — he didn’t want to cum to the sight of you naked with a guy next to you. if you weren’t so goddamn hot, his boner would have deflated. 

no, college student!sukuna wants to cum in his own bed to the recording of you he didn’t even realise he took until he was checking the time on his phone and noticed the video still going. guess it was second nature for him to press record as soon as you were remotely vulnerable. 

and he knows saving his load for this shaky video of you would be so worth it because if he pressed his phone to his ear and turned the volume all the way up, he’d hear the faintest, annoyingly quiet, barely audible whisper of his name leaving your lips. 

college student!sukuna's heart, and cock, is full of so much love for you, his sweet girl, always thinking of him. 

you and him are a match made in heaven. 

[mymoonisgrey]

B2B

❤︎ ໋𓈒 back to back, love to hate, hate to love— your relationship with gojo satoru was a mess, but, you can’t really leave, can you?

warnings. 18+, smut, satoru is a munch, yearning, brief cameo of yandere!satoru, breeding kink if you squint, borderline obsession and possessiveness, toxicity, masturbation (m)

wc. 7,43k

You were reminiscing on decisions you made in high-school that got you to this point.

You were never the type to generally date. It wasn’t your thing, never was—you once said your perdition would come as a man trying to ruin your life, or ruin you generally, body and soul.

However, the 19-year-old theory hit you hard, because Gojo Satoru weaved himself into your life like a cobweb you can't seem to dust. You didn’t give in so easily, no. You took your sweet time to finally get in the scene, without ever seeking advice from friends because somehow situationships always disappear when you tell a friend about them.

But Gojo? He was persistent. He had his hands in your pockets before you even realized he was slipping his fingers between yours. His charm was something built into his DNA, impossible to resist, even when you swore you would. He knew how to make you laugh when you were furious, knew how to touch you like he was mapping out constellations on your skin. And maybe that’s why, even when it hurt, even when you knew better, you always came back.

The fights were cinematic—shouting matches in rain-soaked streets, doors slamming, voices breaking on words too sharp to take back. But the reunions? They were something biblical. You’d fold into him like he was home, let him press his apologies into your skin, your lips, your throat. And just like that, you’d start again. Back-to-back, love to hate, hate to love. A cycle neither of you wanted to break.

Because both of you had flaws neither of you could fix, but only learn to love. There’s constantly something to worry about—whether it was Utahime’s closeness to him and how it managed to get on every nerve of yours—or how men swarmed around you like ants on glucose, it was fucked up. He once had to verbally warn his ex-best friend to leave you alone.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

OCTOBER

You walk in with a sense of dread—you ‘broke’ up with Gojo two months ago, and it has been like... the longest you two have been separated since high school. Jujutsu Tech was lively and it made you nostalgic for the days you ran around as a student rather than a sorceress-to-be, life was much easier back then anyway, wasn’t it?

You know you’ll see him as usual, he runs this place, walks like he owns it because hell—if someone had the power he did, they’d be a lot cockier and haughty than he is. Satoru is considered humble compared to the rest of the power-hungry geezers you put your neck out there for.

The memories flood in before you can stop them. The late-night missions where exhaustion blurred the lines between camaraderie and something deeper. The way he’d lean into you, mask slipping—only for a second—before the world called him back. The stolen moments in between duty and destiny, the whispered confessions between bruises and battle scars. You remember the way he looked at you then, like you were something sacred, something he wasn’t quite allowed to have but couldn’t help but claim anyway.

And then, the downfall. The slow unraveling, the fights that started small but snowballed into something monstrous. The jealousy, the frustration, the push and pull of two people who loved too hard and hurt even harder. You remember walking away that night, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back, the ache in your chest that felt like a wound that would never close.

You shake the thought away, forcing yourself back into the present. You weren’t here for him, not really. You had a job to do. And yet, as you step further into the familiar halls, you can’t help but feel it—the pull, the inevitability of it all. Because no matter how far you run, how long you stay away, it always leads back to him.

Back-to-back. Love to hate. Hate to love.

Your line of sight drifts to the bright green fields stretching out, where a couple of students train one-on-one—blades clashing, curses forming, sweat glistening under the afternoon sun. Your gaze flickers, unintentional, to those three students: pink hair, black hair, and brown hair with a voice loud enough to carry over the clash of sparring.

Then, your eyes find him.

That white, silvery hair you know the soft texture of like your own name. He’s dressed simply—a white tee, his usual slacks, hands tucked into his pockets. A pair of God-knows-how-expensive sunglasses shields his eyes, but you know what’s behind them. That easy smile graces his lips, effortlessly relaxed as he watches his students, his posture all confidence, all control.

Your stomach churns with something familiar, a tangled mess of longing, resentment, and something you won’t dare name. And then—your heart plummets, crashing straight to the pit of your stomach when his head snaps with surgical precision, turning directly toward you. Of course, he felt it. He always does.

His gaze pins you in place, a tether snapping taut between you, even from across the field. There’s no mistaking it, the way recognition flickers behind those ridiculous shades.

You almost want to disappear, but it’s too late. How the hell—scratch that. Of course, he’d know. Him and those freak-show eyes you love so fucking much.

Your face remains neutral, betraying none of the storm beneath, despite the way your fingers dig into your palms, nails carving crescents into your skin. He doesn’t look away. Instead, he smiles, slow and easy, like he has all the time in the world. His eyes flicker downward, just for a second, shameless and languid, before locking with yours again. And in that moment, through the tinted lenses, you catch it—a glimmer of iridescent blue, a ghost of something unspoken.

His lips part, and you swear you see the tip of his tongue dart out to wet them. His head tilts, the corner of his mouth quirking like he’s thinking something inappropriate—no, scratch that, he definitely is.

Then he raises a hand in a lazy wave, and you can hear it in your head before he even says it. Miss me, baby?

God, you hate him. And even worse? He knows you don’t.

You spare him a nod, offering a brief, almost nonexistent smile, before turning away and heading toward the administration building.

Your pulse is erratic, but you keep your steps measured. Controlled. Like he didn’t just unravel something inside you with a single look.

This is why you never did love—because how the hell are you supposed to just... forget someone and move on? Like flipping a switch? Like love is something that fades if you just give it enough time? That wasn’t you. You weren’t built for that kind of indifference.

And as for him...

You don’t know.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That his life—his thoughts, his wants—are no longer yours to consider. But there’s an itch in the back of your mind, a whisper of doubt crawling up your spine.

Would he ever get over you?

Would he even try?

❤︎ ໋𓈒

Gojo had never moved toward his office as quickly as he did now, his long strides purposeful, nearly frantic, his heart hammering in his chest. Seeing you—hell, even just feeling your presence—had turned his entire world on its axis, and no amount of cocky bravado could hide it. Who the fuck was he kidding? He needed you back. Pronto.

The moment he shut the door behind him, his back hit the wood with a heavy thud, his head tilting upward as he stared at the ceiling. His breath was uneven, hands twitching at his sides.

And then there was the other problem.

The one currently straining against the fabric of his pants.

"Fuck," he muttered, his brows knitting together as the ache in his chest twisted into something darker, heavier. His body felt like it was fighting itself, caught in the crossfire between want and restraint.

He had no idea what the hell he was even horny for—you hadn’t been wearing anything particularly revealing, hadn’t even done anything except stand there looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. And yet, his entire body reacted like it had been starved for you. Because it had.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before unbuckling his belt, frustration coiling hot and tight in his stomach. He palmed himself through his slacks first, the friction barely enough to ease the throbbing pulse of his cock, already leaking against the fabric.

His sunglasses were thrown somewhere across the room as he pulled himself free, hissing at the rush of cool air against burning-hot skin. His cock was hard, thick, an angry red at the tip, drooling precum like it was begging for relief.

The only cure was you.

He spat into his palm, a filthy, wet sound breaking the silence, and wrapped his fingers around himself, squeezing at the base before giving a slow, torturous stroke upward. "Shit," he groaned, his voice husky, dripping with need. His shirt bunched between his teeth as his free hand gripped his desk, knuckles going white.

His pace picked up, faster, rougher, as images of you flooded his mind. You, with your legs spread wide for him, your lips swollen from his kisses, your body arching, gasping his name like a prayer.

"Fuck, baby..." he panted, hips jerking into his fist, his strokes messy, erratic. "Miss this fuckin' pussy... goddamn, you made for me. Shit—gonna fuckin'—"

The orgasm ripped through him, his whole body shuddering as thick ropes of cum spilled over his fingers, his stomach, his mind blanking out in white-hot pleasure. His breath was ragged, uneven, body twitching as the aftershocks coursed through him.

And then...

The silence hit. Hard.

Post-nut clarity slammed into him like a freight train.

What the fuck was he doing?

This wasn’t enough. Not even close.

He needed you. Bad. Toxicity be damned.

Because no matter how fucked up the cycle was, no matter how many times you tore each other apart, he knew one thing for certain.

He wasn’t letting you go. Not again.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

The only time Yaga ever felt generous enough to take his hardworking sorcerers out to dinner—some looked forward to it, others did not. It was just simple barbecue, nothing extravagant, but the company always managed to make it lively—especially Shoko, who was an absolute menace when she got drunk.

The air was thick with the smell of sizzling meat, sweet and smoky, mingling with the distant scent of cigarette smoke. The usual bustling sounds of downtown Tokyo surrounded you—laughter spilling from izakayas, the occasional honk of a car, the chatter of normies oblivious to the weight the people at this particular table carried.

Nanami, naturally, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, his displeased grunts audible every time someone—usually Gojo—spoke too loudly. His arms were crossed, his beer barely touched, his patience thinning with every passing second.

Shoko was already a drink in, lazily leaning against the table with a lopsided smirk. Her brown eyes were hazy under the dim lighting, and the way she swirled the ice in her glass told everyone she was only just getting started.

You sat beside her, one hand propping up your cheek, the other absentmindedly pushing around the meat sizzling on the grill in front of you. There was something about the atmosphere tonight—lively, warm, yet… off. Maybe it was the way you felt his eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, even as he pretended to be fully engrossed in whatever ridiculous conversation he was having with Nanami.

Or maybe it was the way your stomach twisted, knowing he wasn’t just looking.

He was remembering.

His posture was lazy, his usual grin in place, but his fingers drummed against the table with slow, rhythmic taps. You knew him too well—his restless energy, his smug amusement—but this? This was different. His legs were spread wide, arms slung over the back of his seat, and beneath the cover of his dark lenses, his gaze flickered, tracing the curve of your cheek, your lips, your throat.

He looked calm. Completely at ease.

And yet, beneath the table, his fingers curled slightly, the ghost of a grip.

Fuck.

The thought hit him like a truck.

He hadn’t been able to get you out of his head since this afternoon. Since the moment he saw you standing in front of Jujutsu Tech, looking like something he wasn’t sure he deserved but wanted anyway. The way you had looked at him—stiff, hesitant, like you were trying so hard to act unbothered—had sent a wildfire through his veins.

He had barely made it to his office before undoing his belt, his mind already painting too-clear images of you, the way your lips parted, the way your legs felt wrapped around his waist. He had gritted his teeth, hissing your name under his breath, fisting his cock like a starved man—fast, desperate, chasing something that didn’t exist outside his head.

And now, here you were. Sitting just a few feet away, oblivious—or maybe not—to the fact that earlier today, he had been thinking about nothing but you while spilling all over his own hand.

His jaw flexed.

You shifted slightly in your seat, rolling your shoulders as if shaking off the weight of his gaze. The movement made the hem of your top ride up just the tiniest bit, exposing a sliver of skin, and Gojo—despite his reputation, despite his control—felt something snap inside him.

His fingers stopped drumming.

The air between you grew thick, unbearably so, like a taut rope ready to snap.

You still didn’t look at him.

And he didn’t look away.

This was bad.

He needed you back.

Toxic or not.

The weight of his gaze was suffocating. It pressed against your skin, coiled around your throat, settled in the pit of your stomach like something dangerous. You swallowed against it, forcing yourself to stay still, to not react—but your fingers twitched, and your heart pounded, and you knew if you sat there a second longer, your composure would snap.

You leaned toward Shoko, murmuring a quick excuse before pushing back your chair, slipping away before your legs could betray just how unsteady you felt. You barely registered the bustle of the restaurant, the warmth of the air thick with the scent of grilled meat and soju. All you could focus on was the pounding in your chest, the way the tension clung to you like a second skin.

The bathroom door shut behind you with a quiet click. You exhaled sharply, pressing your back against it, your pulse loud in your ears.

What the fuck was this?

Two months. Two fucking months. You should’ve been over it by now. Should’ve built an iron wall around your heart, should’ve let time do its thing and dull the edges of what you felt for him.

And yet, it took nothing. Just a look. Just the ghost of a smirk. Just the knowledge that, beneath that cocky mask, there was something else—something darker, something desperate.

A muscle in your jaw ticked. You refused to be the one to break.

But you should’ve known better than to assume Gojo Satoru would let you leave first.

Out at the table, he was still staring at the closed door.

He knew you weren’t running from the conversation at the table. He knew you weren’t going to throw up from too much soju. He knew exactly why you left. And fuck, if that didn’t send a sick thrill down his spine.

With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket, the screen blank—but that didn’t matter. His movements were smooth, calculated. He glanced up, feigning distraction, catching Shoko’s gaze. She squinted at him, trying to focus through her haze of alcohol, but before she could voice the question forming in her mind, he was already standing.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he stepped away from the table, disappearing into the crowd like a ghost.

Shoko blinked slowly, then exhaled, swirling the ice in her drink.

“…This is gonna be a mess,” she mumbled to herself.

❤︎ ໋𓈒

The bathroom door slammed open so hard it rattled against the hinges.

Your breath caught.

Satoru stood in the doorway, tall, imposing, his presence swallowing the small space whole. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing you both in, the air turning suffocating in an instant.

You straightened, fingers twitching at your sides, but you didn’t move back. You held your ground, even as your pulse roared, even as something electric crawled down your spine.

His hands were still in his pockets, his stance deceptively casual, but you weren’t fooled. His broad chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths, his jaw tense. Those sunglasses of his—arrogant, infuriating—were gone, stuffed somewhere in his pocket, and that meant his eyes were on you.

Unfiltered. Unhidden.

And you felt them.

The weight of them. The hunger in them. The sharp edge of something between obsession and anger.

Seconds passed.

Neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched, taut and fragile, like something was about to snap.

And then, finally—

“…Why are you here?” Your voice was steady, but there was venom beneath it.

His lips curled, slow, deliberate. His head tilted just slightly, like he was amused, like he wasn’t the one who had cornered you in a fucking bathroom like a desperate man.

“You tell me,” he said smoothly. “You ran first.”

Your fingers twitched. “And you followed.”

His eyes dragged over your face, slow, taking his time, like he was savoring something.

“You left me with a problem,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let it show. “Not my issue.”

Gojo clicked his tongue, taking a single step closer. Just one. Just enough to make the space between you feel nonexistent.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he mused, voice dipping lower, dangerous now. “You’ve always been my issue. Even when you don’t wanna be.”

His scent curled around you—clean, sharp, tinged with the faintest trace of the cologne you still remembered, the one you once pressed your face into his neck to breathe in.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs.

This was dangerous.

You knew it.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him.

He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dark. “You have any idea what you did to me earlier?”

Your breath hitched.

Shit.

You knew exactly what he meant.

But you refused to acknowledge it.

Instead, you exhaled sharply, planting a firm hand against his chest, shoving him back—just enough to put space between you. Just enough to make it clear you weren’t playing his game.

“Don’t start,” you bit out, your voice cutting, but the effect was ruined by the way your breath was still uneven.

Satoru barely moved, barely reacted. If anything, the corner of his mouth twitched, like he found it cute.

That pissed you off more than it should have.

“Start what?” he asked lazily, tilting his head. “You’re the one running, sweetheart. And for what? You really think you’re over me?”

Your jaw clenched. “I don’t think—I know.”

He snorted. “Sure. That’s why you’re shaking right now, right?”

Your nostrils flared. “Fuck off, Satoru.”

“Or what?” His voice dropped, teasing but sharp. “You’ll run again? You’ll pretend like none of this ever happened?”

You hated how easily he got under your skin. Hated how he knew exactly where to poke, exactly which wounds to press his fingers into.

“I don’t have to pretend,” you shot back. “It already ended. Two months ago.”

His expression darkened, his smile slipping just slightly. “Yeah? And you’ve been real happy since then, huh?”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him see how your fingers trembled slightly where they dug into your skin.

“Actually?” You forced a smirk. “I’ve never been better.”

It was a lie, and you both knew it.

And for the first time tonight, something flickered in Gojo’s expression.

Something ugly.

Something that twisted and burned behind his eyes.

His lips curled—not in amusement, but in something bitter, something close to anger.

“You really wanna play that game?” he murmured, stepping forward. “Fine. Let’s play.”

He reached up, his fingers gripping your chin—not harshly, but firm, tilting your face up to his.

“Tell me,” he continued, his voice lower now, something dangerous coiled beneath it. “When you’re lying in bed at night, when it’s quiet, when there’s no one else around—do you still touch yourself thinking about me?”

Your stomach clenched, heat flashing through your veins, but you didn’t let it show. Didn’t let him see how that single sentence knocked the breath out of your lungs.

You scoffed instead, eyes narrowing. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Gojo grinned. “Yeah? But you like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

Your mouth opened—but no words came out.

And Satoru saw it.

His grip on your chin tightened, just barely, his thumb brushing over the corner of your lip, his eyes dipping down—watching, waiting.

You hated him.

Hated how easily he broke past your walls.

Hated how, even now, even after everything, your body still reacted to him like this.

Hated how much you fucking wanted him.

And he knew.

Of course he knew.

A slow exhale left him, his breath fanning over your lips, and you felt it—the shift in the air, the way the tension between you snapped from hostility to something darker, something that burned.

“I jacked off to you today,” he murmured, his tone almost conversational, but there was a roughness to it. A rawness. “Couldn’t even fucking help it.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I was pissed, you know?” His thumb dragged down, tracing the curve of your jaw. “Seeing you. Watching you act like I don’t fucking exist. Like you weren’t mine.”

“I’m not yours,” you bit out.

Satoru smiled.

And then he laughed.

Low. Mocking.

Like you just said the funniest shit in the world.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, and your breath caught at the way his voice dipped into something dark, something possessive. “You’ve always been mine.”

Your fingers twitched.

And then you did what your body screamed at you to do.

You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was teeth clashing, hands grasping, months of tension snapping like a rubber band pulled too tight. It was resentment, and love, and lust, and every unsaid word swallowed into the heat of the moment.

Satoru groaned against your mouth, his hands snapping to your hips, yanking you flush against him.

And fuck—he was already hard.

You felt it, pressing against you, his body burning hot, his grip rough as he spun you, backing you against the sink.

“You always do this,” you panted against his lips. “You always—”

“Always what?” he murmured, dragging his teeth along your jaw, his hands slipping under your shirt, burning against your skin. “Make you want me?”

You shuddered, fingers tangling into his hair, tugging harshly—and he groaned, low and wrecked.

“You fucking love it,” he said against your throat.

You hated that he was right.

But you weren’t about to let him win that easily.

Your hand slid down, palming him through his slacks, and his breath hitched, his hips jerking into your touch.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

You smirked. “What was that?”

His grip on you tightened, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that.”

And then he was yanking your head back, capturing your lips in another kiss, and you knew—this wasn’t ending anytime soon.

Your fingers curled tighter into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and the sharp hiss that left his lips sent heat flashing straight down your spine.

But just as fast as it started, you wrenched yourself back.

Breathless.

Satoru’s grip on your waist tightened for a fraction of a second—like he didn’t want to let go. Like he physically couldn’t. But you pushed against his chest, and he let you slip through his fingers, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as you put space between you.

A smirk curled your lips as you leaned back against the sink, crossing your arms. “What happened to all that confidence, Satoru?”

His chest rose and fell with each breath, his jaw ticking.

“Don’t fucking start,” he muttered.

“Or what?” You tilted your head, faux innocence dripping from your tone. “You’ll break?”

The muscle in his jaw clenched harder. His hands twitched. His eyes—fuck, those fucking eyes—burned into yours with something wild, something unrestrained.

And then, just when you thought he was going to snap—he laughed.

Not his usual laugh. Not the carefree, cocky one he tossed around like spare change.

This was different.

Low. Dark. Wrecked.

Like he already knew he was losing.

Satoru took a slow step forward, closing the distance you put between you, his fingers dragging along the edge of the sink counter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You wanna play, baby?” His voice was soft. Dangerous. “Fine. Let’s play.”

You didn’t move when he caged you in, his hands bracketing your hips, his breath fanning against your cheek.

“But we both know how this ends,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “Enlighten me.”

His lips brushed against your jaw—so close, but not touching. Just there. Just teasing.

“It ends with you on your knees,” he said, voice thick with something sinful. “Or maybe I’ll be on mine. You know I never minded.”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you didn’t let it show.

Instead, you let your lips curl into a slow, deliberate smirk. “I think you need me more than I need you.”

That got him.

His nostrils flared. His fingers flexed against the counter. His whole body tensed like a live wire about to snap.

And you had him.

For a split second, he looked like he was going to crack, to give in—

But then—

He stepped back.

The loss of his warmth, the absence of his presence, sent something hollow through your chest.

Satoru exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his head tilting back toward the ceiling. “You drive me fucking insane,” he muttered.

And then he looked at you—really looked at you.

Like you were something unattainable. Like he could reach for you, but you’d slip through his fingers.

Like he was already mourning the loss of you, even though you were right there.

Something inside you clenched.

Because Satoru never looked at you like that.

Not like he was breaking.

Not like he was crumbling under the weight of you.

And that—that scared you more than anything.

You turned, grabbing the door handle.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was sharp.

You hesitated. Just for a second.

And that second was all he needed.

In one swift movement, he was there again—right behind you, his chest pressing flush against your back, his fingers gripping your hips with bruising force.

“Go ahead,” he murmured into your ear. “Walk out that door.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching against the handle.

His hands slid down, slow, deliberate, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs.

“But we both know you won’t.”

Your breath hitched when he rocked against you, his erection pressing firm against the curve of your ass.

Your fingers clenched around the handle.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder. “I’m going insane.”

You closed your eyes. “Then let me go.”

His laugh was soft. Bitter.

“Never,” he whispered.

And then his fingers dug in, and he spun you—slamming you back against the door.

His hands were everywhere, mapping out the body he had memorized, relearning every curve and dip like he was starving.

“You think I don’t miss you?” he rasped.

Your heart pounded.

He kissed you before you could answer.

Desperate.

Teeth and tongue and months of loneliness crashing into you all at once.

His hands slid under your thighs, hoisting you up, pinning you between him and the door.

“I can still taste you,” he murmured against your lips.

Your breath stuttered.

His grip on you was bruising, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking, biting, marking.

“You think you can just leave me?” His voice was rough. “Think you can just walk away?”

Your head tilted back, breathless, overwhelmed.

“You’re mine,” he muttered against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers tracing the edge of your waistband.

You gasped when his hand dipped lower.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.

You didn’t. You never could.

Because even now, even after everything— You still wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, yanking them down with a sharp tug, and your breath hitched as the cool air kissed your heated skin.

“Satoru—”

“Shh,” he hushed, lips dragging along the column of your throat. “S’okay, jus’ me, baby.”

His voice was low, raspy, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest as he palmed between your legs, fingers running over the damp fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned. “What, you missed me that much?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer.

He didn’t like that.

Without warning, he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, and your hips jerked involuntarily.

“There’s my answer,” he murmured, lips ghosting against your ear.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pushed your panties aside, two fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing.

“Y’know,” he mused, voice like velvet, “I thought jerking off earlier would take the edge off. But look at me.”

You felt him grind against your thigh, the thick outline of his cock straining against his slacks, hot and heavy.

“Didn’t work,” he continued, dragging his fingers through your slickness, circling your clit with lazy, taunting strokes. “Still fuckin’ starving for you.”

Your breath hitched when he pushed a finger inside, slow, teasing, curling it just enough to make you gasp.

“Missed this pretty pussy,” he murmured, adding another finger, stretching you out. “my pretty pussy.”

Your head tilted back against the door, a sharp moan slipping from your lips.

His pace quickened, fingers thrusting in and out, his thumb rubbing circles against your clit, every motion calculated, precise, like he was pulling you apart piece by piece. “Feel good, baby?”

You nodded frantically, hips bucking into his hand.

“voice, honey, use it.”

“Y-yeah,” you choked out. “Feels so fucking good.”

A wicked smile tugged at his lips.

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers suddenly disappearing—making you whine at the loss—before he spun you around, pressing your chest against the door. “Hands up,” he ordered.

You obeyed instantly, pressing your palms against the doorframe, your breath coming in quick, shallow pants. The anticipation burned through you, every nerve in your body attuned to him.

A loud thud echoed behind you, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you found Satoru on his knees, his striking blue eyes locked onto you with a dark, ravenous hunger. His fingers hooked into the band of your flimsy panties, tugging them aside with ease before his nose brushed against the sensitive heat of your core.

“Ah, fuck,” he exhaled, his voice thick with desire. “Yum.”

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver coursing through you, and then—oh god—his lips parted, his tongue swiping through your folds in a slow, deliberate stroke that made your knees tremble. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as he pulled you closer, his grip firm on your thighs.

“You smell so good,” he muttered against your slick skin, his words vibrating against your core. “Fuck—been thinking about this for the past two months— why’re you depriving me of this, wifey?”

Your face twists from anticipation, and moreover, irritation at how he seemed to always think he owned you. news flash, he does.

“you’re acting like—“ you gasp out breathlessly before—His mouth latched onto you, devouring like a man starved. The wet heat of his tongue worked expertly, tracing and teasing, alternating between languid strokes and eager, desperate sucks. Every movement sent shocks of pleasure crackling up your spine, your fingers clenching uselessly against the doorframe as your body melted into his touch.

“Satoru—” you gasped, hips jerking instinctively toward his mouth, craving more. He chuckled against you, the vibration making you whimper.

“So needy,” he murmured, his tongue flicking wickedly before he sucked your clit into his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened as he buried himself deeper, his own groans mingling with the wet, obscene sounds filling the room.

Your legs shook, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach. He could feel it—he always knew. With one hand, he slipped two fingers inside you with ease, curling them just right, pressing into that spot that had you biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice thick with arrogance and lust. “Let me hear you.”

Your hands trembled against the doorframe, fingers pressing uselessly into the wood as a whimper slipped from your lips. Satoru’s pace was relentless—his tongue dragging through your folds, his fingers curling inside you with devastating precision. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, heat pooling low as he worked you over like he had all the time in the world.

“Look at you,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue. “Dripping all over me—fuck.”

You gasped as he pressed his palm flat against your lower stomach, holding you in place while he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against the swollen nub. The pleasure hit you like a wave, rolling through you in sharp, dizzying bursts.

“Satoru—I’m—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Go ahead. Come for me.”

And you did.

Your body seized, pleasure snapping through your core as your orgasm crashed over you, hard and unrelenting. Your knees buckled, and Satoru caught you effortlessly, keeping you steady as you trembled beneath his touch. He groaned as he licked you through it, his fingers stroking you lazily, coaxing out every last aftershock.

When you finally slumped against the doorframe, boneless and breathless, he pulled back, licking his lips like he was savoring the taste of you. His eyes, darkened with lust, raked over your trembling form.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, rising to his feet. He cupped your face, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You good?”

You nodded weakly, still floating in the haze of pleasure.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Think you can take more?”

Before you could answer, his hands were on your waist, spinning you around to face him. He kissed you—deep, filthy, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hands wandered, fingers tracing the curve of your ass before giving it a firm squeeze and letting out a loooowww whistle.

The moment your silence stretched too long, Satoru knew he had you.

A slow, cocky smirk curled on his lips as he rolled his hips forward, pressing his hardness against your core, just to hear the way your breath caught in your throat.

"That's what I thought," he murmured, voice low, rough—wrecked.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter as he lifted you, pinning you between the door and his body, the heat of him searing straight through your clothes. You barely had a moment to gasp before his lips crashed against yours, desperate and bruising.

It was messy. Uncoordinated. More need than finesse.

Teeth clashed. Tongues tangled.

You wanted to hate him for how easily he unraveled you, how quickly he made you forget why you were supposed to be angry, but the way he groaned into your mouth, like he was starving for you, made it impossible.

"Fuck," he muttered, breaking away just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide. "I've been thinking about this all day."

His fingers found the waistband of your pants, yanking them down in a single, impatient motion, his breath hitching at the sight of your bare skin.

"God, baby," he groaned, voice shaking. "You have no fucking idea."

You swallowed hard, gripping at his shirt as he reached down, palming himself through his slacks. The outline of his cock was thick and heavy, and when he popped open the button and shoved his pants down, your mouth watered at the sight of it—hard, flushed red at the tip, pre-cum already leaking.

He gave himself a few strokes, his eyes locked onto your soaked cunt, before he pressed the blunt tip against your entrance.

"You’re already dripping," he murmured, smug. "Missed me that much, huh?"

You wanted to argue, to shove him back and wipe that cocky smirk off his face, but the second he pushed in, stretching you open inch by inch, your brain short-circuited.

"Shit," you gasped, head tipping back against the door.

Satoru grunted, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place as he bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt inside you.

"Tight as ever," he hissed. "Like this pussy was fucking made for me."

You dug your nails into his shoulders, your walls clenching around him as he gave a sharp thrust.

"Shit—" His head dropped to your shoulder, his breath ragged. "You’re gonna kill me."

And then he started moving.

There was no build-up, no easing into it—just raw, desperate thrusts, his hips snapping against yours, his cock driving into you so deep it had you seeing stars.

Your moans filled the small bathroom, drowned out only by the muffled sounds of the restaurant beyond the door. The thrill of it—the risk, the absolute filth of being fucked up against a public bathroom door—only made it worse.

Satoru must have felt the same, because his grip on you turned bruising, his pace brutal.

"This what you wanted, huh?" he growled, lips brushing against your ear. "Wanted me to ruin you like this?"

You could only whimper in response, your legs tightening around his waist.

"You love it," he groaned. "Love letting me fuck you like this, even when you hate me."

His teeth found your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark before soothing it with his tongue.

"Fuck, baby," he panted, "I should keep you like this forever. Stuck on my cock, whining like a bitch in heat."

The filthiness of it sent heat rushing straight to your core, your walls fluttering around him, making him curse under his breath.

"That's it," he muttered. "Come on, baby, give it to me."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing harsh circles, and your body jerked at the sensation.

"Fuck—Satoru—"

"I know, baby," he gritted out. "Come for me. Come on my fucking cock."

The coil in your stomach snapped, and you came with a sharp cry, your walls clenching down so hard on him he nearly collapsed against you.

"Shit, shit, shit—"

His thrusts turned erratic, sloppy, his breath ragged against your skin as he chased his own release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna—"

And then, with one last thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside you with a low, wrecked groan, his body shuddering against yours.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just panting, clinging to each other, the aftershocks still rippling through your bodies.

And then—

Reality crashed down.

His head dropped against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

"Fuck," he murmured, voice hoarse.

You didn’t respond, still coming down from your high, your mind too fogged to process anything else.

But then he spoke again.

"You’re never leaving me."

Your breath hitched.

"You hear me?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his iridescent blue eyes burning.

"This—" He gestured vaguely, his chest still heaving. "Us. It’s never gonna stop."

You swallowed hard. "Satoru—"

"I don’t care how fucked up it is," he interrupted, voice cracking. "I don’t care if we tear each other apart." He sniffled, You swallowed, your throat tight. His words pressed against your skin, heavier than his body pinning you to the door.

"You can’t say that," you whispered, voice barely there.

Satoru’s gaze didn’t waver. He just looked at you, eyes burning with something you weren’t ready to name.

"I can," he murmured. "Because it’s true."

His fingers ghosted over your cheek, sliding down the column of your throat, pressing lightly—just enough for you to feel his touch, like he was mapping you all over again.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the way your body still ached for him, how every inch of you still burned from the way he took you.

"You don’t own me."

He exhaled shakily, his forehead pressing against yours.

"I know," he admitted, his voice a broken rasp. "But you still belong to me."

Your breath stuttered. "That’s not the same thing."

"Isn’t it?" he asked, his hands slipping down to your waist, holding you like you were something fragile. "Tell me, then. Tell me you don’t feel it, too."

You didn’t answer.

Because you did.

You felt it in the way his body curled over yours, in the way his breaths mingled with yours, in the way he held you—not with possession, but with something deeper. Something unshakable.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then another on your cheek, then lower, down to your jaw. He was shaking. His lips trembled against your skin.

"I thought about you every fucking day."

His confession poured into you like warm honey, thick and golden, coating every inch of your chest.

"I know you think this is just obsession," he continued, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. "That I’m selfish and I only want you because I can’t stand the idea of someone else having you. Maybe that’s true."

His hands slid up, wrapping around your wrists, pulling them down from where they’d been pressed defensively to his chest.

"But it’s more than that," he said, kissing your palm. "It always has been."

Your fingers curled slightly against his cheek, as if testing the weight of his words. "Then why do we keep ruining each other?"

He let out a breath, slow and quiet, like it hurt to say the truth out loud.

"Because I don't know how to love you without ruining myself, too."

Your heart clenched.

Satoru lifted his head, his gaze searching yours, his lips parting slightly before he said it.

"And you can’t leave me anyway."

You blinked. "What?"

His hands flexed at your sides, gripping tighter like he was afraid you’d disappear.

"Something’s already taken root inside you," he whispered, almost reverently. "You know it, don’t you?"

Your stomach flipped, your breath catching as something deep inside you—something instinctual, something unspoken—stirred at his words.

Because you did know.

It wasn’t just the way your body still felt like it belonged to him. It wasn’t just the way your heart raced whenever he was near.

It was something more. Something permanent.

Satoru swallowed, his thumb brushing over your lips, his voice raw, like he was barely holding himself together.

"Tell me I’m wrong."

You couldn’t.

His eyes darkened, something deep and knowing settling in them.

"That’s what I thought."

His hands found your hips, gripping them, his thumbs tracing slow circles.

"You’re never leaving," he murmured, softer this time, like a promise. "Not now. Not ever."

You shivered, your head dropping against his chest, your breath unsteady.

Because for the first time in all the years of back-and-forth, of fights and reconciliations, of leaving and coming back—

You believed him.

And maybe… maybe you didn’t want to leave anyway.

Satoru’s arms wound around you, holding you against him like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

His lips pressed against your temple, slow and lingering, and then—

"Marry me."

The words were quiet, barely louder than the sound of your own heartbeat.

Your body froze, rigid, like glass refusing to budge. Satoru only pulled you closer.

"We both know this is forever."

His hands skimmed your sides, like he was memorizing you all over again.

"So let’s stop pretending otherwise."

Your throat went dry.

Because as crazy as it sounded, as reckless and fucked-up as this love was—

Maybe, just maybe—

He was right.

Back to him, you guess. Forever this time.

FIN.

❤︎ ໋𓈒 a/n. hello loves, i was feeling very uninspired towards my long fic “All I Need” so im posting this. I’ll hopefully be back on track once i jot down my ideas for chapter five. I hope you enjoy this one-shot, based on B2b by charlixcx.

© All Rights Reserved mymoonisgrey