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hi can I request

zhongli dating xianyuns daughter(reader)(well not blood daughter but, shenhe and ganyu are called her daughters) it starts during the days that he's still an archon, xianyun orders the reader to keep the geo archon company or should I say serve him, and they developed their feelings towards each other. Since zhongli is an archon he sees ganyu and shenhe as a little children that xianyun is taking care of, but the reader is an exemption since he sees her as a beautiful woman at age reader is also immortal (electro vision holder)

Dainty

Pt.1

(GIF Is Not Mine)

Dainty Pt.2

Zhongli x F! Adepti Reader

(skin color, height, body, and facial features not mentioned or described in this work of fiction, made for all readers who align with she/her she/they)

Warnings: OOC Zhongli, Blood, Death, Near Death, War, Violence, Arguments (Mentioned/Described), Betrayal/Abandonment From Parental Figures/Home, Nudity, A Little Angst In The Parts Speaking About War And Readers Back Story.

“A proper woman” “A polite lady” and “A sweet girl” Is what you grew up in all your life, all you knew, all you wished to be. Up until you weren’t, up until ‘The Incident’ you were scorned as an outcast. Thrown out for being the ‘Odd’ one simply because you stopped playing house, abandoned, and left for dead, the weakest of the pack. You broke from the abusive chains of your village and ran until you stumbled on the muddy ground you stayed there for days laying on the wet ground dying from starvation and the cold, a light makes you crack your eyes open as an electro vision drifts down to you, you use your remaining strength to grasp the glowing orb “I get my vision when I’m dying, great” you huff.

 The days continue until one day a soft ‘Plump’ makes you open your eyes a white crane with blue feathers stands before you a small fish in its beak you stare at it watching as it tears it into smaller pieces you open your mouth for it to put the fish inside your mouth as you chew it and swallow it down. This repeats for a while the bird would come and feed you fish and let water drip down its beak into your mouth, then huddle on top of you to keep you warm until you have enough energy to walk. You watch as it flies away when you stand then lands a few feet from you, you follow it as it leads you to Mt. Aocang “Beautiful crane why do you lead me here?” you question, the bird shakes its head and begins striding up the mountain forcing you to follow you until you reach the very top. You collapse when you reach the top “I fear I cannot go any farther” you whisper before your eyes close. You awake to a woman with red-rimmed glasses washing out your hair, “W-where am I?” you ask her “My abode” she hums continuing to wash your hair your eyes widen as you realize “Adeptus Cloud Retainer” you say trying to sit up, but she stops you “Rest you are still sick” she whispers pouring hot water into the jade bath you were laying in “Why did you save me?” you ask “What was I supposed to do? Let you poison my lake with your deceased body?” she says sternly. That was what you got as a ‘Warm Welcome’ in your new home, but Cloud Retainer eventually warmed up to you and took you in as her own. She trusted you enough to let you meet Morax “She is mortal” He hums looking at you “And what of it?” Cloud Retainer defends looking over her shoulder as you wade into the pool letting the fish swim around your feet “You are one of my dearest friends and I would hate to see you grieve her death” He sighs his gold eyes watching as you feed the koi, “Are you saying I should abandon her!?” she raises her voice slightly Morax widens his eyes not used to seeing Cloud Retainer’s emotions slip “No, I was thinking of making a contract to turn her into an adeptus” he says sipping on his cup of tea Cloud Retainer whips her head to look at him “Really?” she says in disbelief. He nods his eyes following as the young woman places her hands into the water and a koi happily swims into them to eat the food in her palms. Cloud Retainer calls you from the pond you look up and wade out of the water, your white dress soaked from the mid-thigh down. Morax looks away at the transparency of the cloth clearing his throat “Yes Mother?” you question noticing the tears in her eyes “Rex Lapis and I have been talking, and we are thinking of making a contract so you can be immortal” she hums taking your hand in hers your eyes light up and you pull her into a hug she makes a “Hmph” sound when her head hits you shoulder, but she reciprocates. After a while of reading and understanding the contract and what it entails you got it signed and Morax bestowed a little of his power on you to make your life eternal. But the contract entailed that you were to accompany Morax everywhere he goes, give him anything he needs, and be his loyal servant. 

Years passed as if in a mere blink of an eye, you noticed how Morax was cold with you at the start only talking to you when necessary “Bring us tea” he commands going back to his conversation with Streetward Rambler and Guizhong “As you wish” you hum “You needn’t be so harsh on the girl” Guizhong scolds Morax just grunts Streetward Rambler shakes her head “What were those blue prints you needed me to look over?” he directs the conversation to Guizhong “Oh yeah! Here” she says remembering why she was even here handing him her idea on a new device, but he steals glances in your direction your beautiful white and green robes glimmering in the sun. You sulk as you listen to them banter, waiting for the water to finish boiling, steeping the tea perfectly as you’ve done thousands of times before. Walking over to the table and placing down cups pouring the tea into each one “Enjoy” you hum walking away “Where are you going?” You still at Morax’s words “Ah. . . I was gonna go sit down?” You say as if questioning yourself looking back at him, Guizhong and Streetward Rambler look at you expectantly “What Morax means is for you to come to sit with us” Rambler explains patting the stone seat next to her your eyes widen a happy glint shining in them you find your seat between Morax and Streetward Rambler. You sit between them sitting quietly but content nonetheless just listening to them discuss topics. Morax watches as you sip your tea quietly his eyes tracing over your beautiful features. You meet his eyes giving him a questioning glance “Is something wrong My Lord” You whisper he shakes his head and goes back to his conversation.

The war is tedious but you fight hard, friends and foes falling everywhere you look. You refuse to shed tears and show weakness to anyone who may take advantage of your blind spot, defending your god with a stone heart, letting your sword cut through anyone who would dare try to lay a hand on your god. Static runs through the air as you let electro flow through your movements like wine from a bottle, effortless and graceful swift and solid as you slice through armor as hard as the strongest steel. A cold expression striking fear into the weaker gods who thought you were an easy target, you reek of dirt, blood, and death. Your armor splattered in other's blood as if it was forged in a slaughterhouse. Your only relief was returning to your camp and seeing your friends and god, but one day someone close didn’t return “Rex!” you rush up to him “Where is Guizhong, why isn’t she with you!?” Your eyes search wildly for the god of dust he stays silent pushing past you into his makeshift home, you stand there eyes wide as you sink into the ground hand over your heart, the soiled ground wet and red. Morax closes his eyes when he hears your armor and sword clink as you fall to your knees and let out a scream painful sobs following after, his tears falling as he wishes he could have saved her for your sake.  

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

-

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

-

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

-

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear will all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

-

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

-

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

-

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. you're eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

-

suguru arrived early than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the said.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

-

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

-

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not asked those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

-

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh and it hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

-

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

-

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

After Hours

Synopsis: Alhaitham has multiple, very good reasons for not liking to stay after office hours. You're one of them. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: Female reader x Husband!Alhaitham, Spoilers for the archon quests, Fluff, Domesticity, Slight angst, Pregnancy, Morning sickness (pretty heavy on the morning sickness but nothing graphic, just mentions of puking + inability to keep food down), Pregnancy woes, Established relationship, kind of hidden pregnancy, Alhaitham is 27 in my head and so is the reader A/N: listen. LISTEN. I don't normally write pregnancy but I had this idea and HAD to let it out. There is nothing hotter to me than a smart, dependable man with a stable, cushy job that's utterly in love with you. I'm a gojo writer, but damn. Alhaitham has me feeling some sort of way.

"Given the recent developments, there are many researchers wondering about what will happen to their funding. Acting Grand Sage, do you have any-"

"I'll be taking my leave now."

"H-Huh?"

Alhaitham clears his throat and stands, his chair dragging against the floor. From high-profile staff at the Akademiya, to esteemed researchers searching for an answer, Alhaitham casually shrugs off the bewildered, confused stares they give him.

"It's 5PM," he says nonchalantly. "You can find me at my desk tomorrow morning at 9."

"B-But we're not done with the meeting-"

"Goodbye."

"Wait-"

"My work for the day is done," Alhaitham hums, effectively cutting off whatever it was that was about to be said. Silence befalls the room, tension growing in its stead. "Haven't I already made my stance on this very clear?"

For all that is said and done, at least they knew how to stop talking when he displays his displeasure. Maybe being the Acting Grand Sage wasn't that bad after all. There were very few that would dare challenge his authority.

"But Sir, our meeting just started..."

Maybe not.

"Well, you should have started it earlier." Alhaitham doesn't miss a beat, neatly gathering his documents into a pile for his assigned assistant to take away. There's a tiny smile on his assistant's face, the young, interning scholar finding the entire exchange amusing.

Alhaitham fails to see what could be soooo amusing about working past official office hours.

5:01. Alhaitham clicks his tongue.

"Acting Grand Sage," a scandalised voice begins, but the person he's referring to is in a rush. Alhaitham should be out of the Akademiya by now. He can't risk being late. "It is imperative that you give us the necessary instructions so that Sumeru can still function as per usual..."

He tunes the voice out. It's past 5. He doesn't have to listen.

If they could handle themselves under Azar's so-called leadership, they can handle themselves under no supervision for the next sixteen hours. Sure, years worth of rampant corruption was difficult to erode without work, but it wasn't as if staying past 5 would magically fix everything overnight.

Alhaitham would tell them to go home and leave it for tomorrow... But it's now 5:02 and he's running behind on time. Simply being within the House of Daena was a pleasantry he was not willing to give for even a second longer.

"A-Alhaitham!"

He walks past the old man, past Cyno, and he's out of the door, out of the Akademiya, in mere moments.

The passing scholars greet him, all up to date with the change of hands after the atrocities of the previous Sages had gone public. Various pairs of eyes linger on him. Seemingly overnight, he had become known to the public as one of the core few that had freed Sumeru's Archon and foiled Azar's plan.

A mighty accomplishment in the eyes of the people, indeed.

It doesn't take long to get to the Bazar, where his task at hand was. He's done this tons of times before, but with every passing day, he only seems to get pickier with the produce before him.

Yoghurt, Tomatoes, Ginger, Butter...

"Oh, honey..."

He looks away from a ripe tomato and into the eyes of an older auntie who stood next to him with a fond look on her face.

"You're going to stare a hole into that poor tomato at that rate."

Alhaitham has no idea who she is. Silently, he returns his gaze to the tomato pile and narrows down the select few that had passed his earlier inspection. He'd grab them, pay, and leave.

"Ah ah!" The lady laughs, interrupting his process. "Come, dear. Have these tomatoes instead," she says, offering him her basket of tomatoes. "It's the least I could do for the Grand Sage."

"Acting Grand Sage," he can't help but correct.

"Yes, yes, the Acting Grand Sage. Honestly, what does it matter! Come! Have these. I have a good eye for tomatoes, you know?"

Alhaitham can't help but agree. The tomatoes are perfect. If his departure hadn't been halted, even for those few minutes, he would have gotten to them first. Ripe, juicy, no blemishes whatsoever, fresh... They're good. Declining is the first thought that comes into mind. He has no need to owe anyone any favours. But how can he when he remembers who was waiting for him back home?

"Ahhh, don't be shy!" The auntie shoves them into his own basket, where a few ginger roots sat alongside some cloves of garlic and some extra spices. "You've done so much for Sumeru! This is the least we could do."

She doesn't seem malicious. Or looking for anything in return.

"...Thank you, then."

And that special phrase unleashes hell on earth. The moment the tomatoes make a touchdown in his basket, he gets swamped by the aunties and uncles at the bazar.

"Here! Have some fish!"

"Oh! Oh! Here's some preserved vegetables! Take these, too!"

"Acting Grand Sage! My mama told me to give this to you!" "Me too! Here! Here!"

It's comes and goes as abruptly as a tidal wave. There's not even a chance to reply to anyone, or reject anything. Before Alhaitham knows it, he's decorated with new groceries. Everyone who had gifted him something was long gone, walking away like nothing had happened.

For the first time in a long while, Alhaitham feels awkward standing alone in the Bazar.

"I'll take these..." Alhaitham says, sliding his personal basket to Housein. It's a little difficult to get his mora pouch out while holding so many items, but he manages. It's not like he can just abandon everything at the side of the pavement. There were too many prying eyes.

"Oh, they'll be on the house, Mr Alhaitham!" Housein grins, declining the mora. The produce seller looks pleased with himself. "The Bazar technically owes you for helping to oust Azar! Now the theatre can continue their performances!"

"I insist-"

"Really, it's alright!"

"No, I-"

"Alhaitham! Oh, my sweet boy!" Someone grabs his arm, whisking him away before he could get Housein to accept his mora. Greying hair frames the old lady's face, and Alhaitham recognises her in an instant.

"Auntie?"

"Yes, yes. Come," she ushers him, giddy with excitement. "I have some things that you'll appreciate."

"I don't think that's necessary," he sighs, nodding at the bags he was already carrying. He had fish and chicken slung over his shoulder. Not to mention the countless fresh produce in each bag... "Can it not wait until our next visit?"

"Nonsense," she swats his arm. "You will like what I have!"

Rationality and knowledge cannot override the cultural traditions and norms ingrained in each Sumeru citizen from a young age. Alhaitham follows the former Amurta researcher up to the hospital she now worked at during her retirement.

Dutifully, the Scribe stands in wait, ignoring the stares and awed whispers of the people as the old lady rounds the corner of the reception desk to dig through her stock. Save for a couple of patients and their attending physicians, the Bimarstan is quiet today.

"Here," she hums proudly, brandishing a bundle of pouches. They're beautifully embroidered, with patterns that he could easily identify to be from some of the Seven nations. "I got some supplements for your wife."

The mere mention of you has the tips of Alhaitham's ears warming. The lady might be old, but her eyes are still sharp as ever. She chuckles, patting his arm appreciatively, and some of the staff familiar with you and he smile to themselves, knowing something many did not.

"You two are so adorable," she sighs wistfully. "Come, I'll explain each one to you."

"Thank you."

The old pharmacist explains each supplement in great detail. There's a whole assortment available, from powders, to tea bags, to roots, and to pills and potions from each nation. All of high quality.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it," Alhaitham says, setting down his groceries to pull out his mora pouch. Once again, he's declined.

"If you really want to repay me, then go take better care of your wife," she tuts. The old lady always had a soft spot for you. "It's not healthy to make her worry so much."

The reminder brings forth a surge of emotions that he gingerly represses for now.

"Of course," he bows deeply, "I will. Thank you."

"Ah, I shan't hold you up anymore. Off you go!"

Neatly packing his spoils for the day, Alhaitham bids his farewell and walks off in the direction of his home. Though, unfortunately, it's not fast enough to escape the various food stall owners...

Returning home is no easy feat, not when you're lugging home months worth of groceries. Still, as with anything thrown his way, Alhaitham manages. He's careful with his keys, making sure they don't make too much noise lest you wake from your slumber or worse, run to greet him. And - Oh.

"Habibti," he says, greeting you out of habit even if he can clearly see that you're asleep on the couch.

As quietly as possible, Alhaitham shuffles his way into his house along with all the groceries. It's almost feels like he's a thief in his own house.

The groceries are set on the floor, in a neat pile that he'll sort out later. The citizens were well-meaning, but he needed to do another check to make sure nothing was tainted. He braces himself when the bags crinkle against each other, but you don't wake. Good, he thinks. You needed the rest.

Shoes off, his hands washed, any fatigue laced into his muscles dissipates the moment he comes to stand in front of you. Alhaitham leans down to brush aside stray strands of your hair away from your forehead. His fingers ghost over your soft skin. You looked glowing.

"Good evening," he greets softly, lips pressed against your forehead. You stir, but he soothes you back into dreamland. His palm smooths back and forth between your waist and where your bellybutton was, and he smiles himself when he sees the corner of your lips curl up.

Gently, he plucks your hands from the knitting needles Kaveh had gotten you. The half-done blanket resting on the swell of your belly is removed, set neatly on the coffee table with the rest of your colourful balls of yarn. Alhaitham easily carries you, slipping his an arm under your back and the other under your knees.

Though he wants to tuck you back in bed, he knows you well enough to place you into the comfy armchair he had gotten instead. He leaves, only to return from your shared bedroom with a fluffy blanket to keep you warm. Tucking you in is an terribly short affair. Parting from you takes a lot of willpower.

In the time you're asleep, Alhaitham busies himself around the house. The groceries get checked, washed, and put away, and he takes a much needed shower. He's halfway through sweating the minced garlic and shallots when you finally wake, your tiny, sleepy voice making its way to him.

"Haitham...?"

The fire goes out.

"Yes, habibti?" He pulls his apron off, walking out of the kitchen. Warmth pools in his chest when he takes you in; how your blanket slides off your shoulders; how your eyes blearily search him out.

"Welcome home," you say dazedly, arms open and raised up to beckon him in for a hug. Alhaitham closes the distance in less than a second, pulling you in.

"Mm," he hugs you tight, mindful of your baby bump. His hand splays out protectively over your tummy, and a light giggle erupts from you as you bask in his warmth.

Getting down on one knee, level with the evidence of his, and your, love, he looks up at you and asks, "How was your day, habibti?"

"I was working on the baby blanket," you tell him, gesturing at the knitwork on the table. "I was thinking of making a few."

"It's going well?"

You nod, happily engaging him in conversation before he carefully nudges open a new door of conversation. One that you understood, but didn't like. High on pregnancy hormones (and on stress), he distinctly remembers you crying to him in the middle of the night, telling him that it felt like you were being interrogated whenever he wouldn't let up on the questions.

You had subsequently thrown up dinner.

And promptly fell back asleep on him.

Thus, the small talk.

"Did our baby give you any trouble today?" He asks gently, a hand gently circling your wrist. One finger traces unintelligible symbols against your skin as the other pressed against your pulse.

You shake your head slowly as he counts in his. "Just some nausea."

"And lunch?" He asks, switching hands. "How was lunch? What did you have?"

You shake your head sadly. "Couldn't keep much of it down. Baby bird didn't agree with it."

"They didn't?" Alhaitham frowns, a contemplative look on his face. "I see. Did you drink-"

"Did I drink the tea you made?" You raise a brow, completing the question for him.

"...Yes."

You were catching on. And fast. Silently, he pulls your hand towards his face to kiss the back of your palm, hoping that it would throw you off.

"Did it help?"

"It did," you tell him. The suspicious look you had softens. "It was very good. Helped with the nausea for a bit."

"I see. And did you-"

"Haitham," You admonish gently. "Stop being such a worrywart. I've been taking care of myself. These things happen. It's normal."

"Yes, habibti, I'm aware, but you're already in your second trimester. I just want to check if-"

Accustomed to this, you cut him off with words he can't ignore.

"I'm hungry."

"You're hungry?" He pauses. He supposes that you're bound to be, considering what you had just reported about lunch. "I just started cooking, but the people at the Bazar gave us a lot of food."

"Really? That's nice of them. Why?"

"As thanks," he says vaguely, squeezing your side. "There's a lot of it. Tandoori chicken, Curry, Kebabs, Wraps... Is there anything to your fancy?"

"Mm, I guess," you half-heartedly answer. "Then why are you still cooking?"

"You said you wanted Butter Chicken this morning."

The name of the dish makes your mouth water, the reminder perking you up. The baby nestled deep in your womb agrees.

"Grab something light," he says, recognising that expression of yours. You looked pleased to smell his cooking wafting through the air, only just realising it after the grip of sleep had loosened its hold on you. "I only just started."

"Okay-"

"Sit down. I'll grab it for you. What do you want?" Your husband urges you back into the chair. It begins, once more.

"I don't know," you roll your eyes at him, "I have to get up and see what there is, don't I?"

"I already told you what there is. If it helps, there's Samosas and-"

"I want to look for myself," you interrupt. "I'm pregnant. Not incapable."

"The doctor said you need to be careful."

"The doctor said that I can move around. That I should move around."

"Within reason," he adds, grumbling, just because. Helping you stand after your complaints, you hold him, hugging his arm tightly, and Alhaitham watches you waddle towards the kitchen with him in tow.

He never expected the pregnant waddle to happen so soon. Archons, he hadn't expected you to look so cute, either. You were partway through your second trimester and he can't imagine how it'd be like in your third.

"Oooh," you coo, and he gets dragged back into reality. "There's Baklava?"

"And Panipuri." He says, hovering over you. If he thinks about it, he's almost like a little fly... Even his colours matched. With the way you're looking at him, you must have thought of the same thing. "And Custard. And Cakes. And-"

"Oh! Pudding!" You excitedly nab the Padisarah Pudding out of the cooler, clapping. Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle at your delight, reaching over to grab you a teaspoon so you could enjoy your desert.

"Now sit," he tells you, guiding you to the kitchen island, where there was a chair. He had gotten Kaveh to design and make one for you as part of his rental agreement. "You can watch me cook."

"You're not letting me help again?"

He shakes his head. From temporarily stepping down from your work as a researcher, to repeating dreams, and to Alhaitham having to go away for a mission, you had been stressed out from all the back-to-back changes. Only recently had you been discharged from bed rest after the news that he had gone insane from consuming forbidden knowledge and was exiled had caused you to faint in the middle of Treasure Street.

Alhaitham prides himself on his rational decision making skills, but keeping you in the dark to the happenings in Sumeru's political sphere had been by far the worst decision he had ever made.

You had fallen sick, carrying a fever for five days and five nights as the doctors at the Bimarstan worked around the clock to keep you stable. Luck had been on your side for you to have been found by one of the physicians. He had almost...

Alhaitham shakes his head, focusing instead on the metal band around his finger. Cooking was the least he could do for you after everything you had to handle.

Ignoring the pang in his chest, he resumes cooking. The wok sizzles, and you're happily munching away on your pudding, offering him a spoonful here and there as his ingredients go in in a methodological order. He tosses in peeled and boiled tomatoes, spices, and marinated chicken cubes from last night.

"It smells so good..."

"I know."

"But why aren't you making more?" You ask, leaning over so he could feed you a test bite of the creamy dish. "Is Kaveh not coming home for dinner?"

"It's none of our business, habibti," Alhaitham hums. "Kaveh can freeload food elsewhere."

"Haitham," you giggle. "That's not very kind."

"What? Letting him stay here rent-free is kind enough. I don't have to feed him, too."

"You're making him build our nursery," you remind him. "And baby-proof the house."

"It's part of the rental agreement."

"Still," you huff, watching your husband roll up his sleeves before portioning the dough for your naan. "At least leave him some food."

"He can have whatever we can't finish. Can we agree?" He says, rolling the dough out into flat circles. "We have too much food from the people, anyway. He can have those. The Butter Chicken is yours. You don't have to share."

You're swayed.

"...Fine."

He graduated from the Haravatat. To put it loosely, he's a linguist. A knack for words comes with the job.

"Good," he hums, handing you a bowl of melted butter so you wouldn't feel left out. You stir it with a clean spoon, mixing in garlic paste and chopped coriander.

It's peaceful. Serene. The sizzling in the background is nothing but homey, nothing but comfort. Alhaitham loves it when you sing to him while he cooks, but today he settles for a spritely summary of one of the books he's gotten you.

"Thank you, Haitham."

"Of course," he leans over to peck your temple. After serving you a hearty plate, Alhaitham finally sits with you to eat. "Anything you need."

"What would people say if they knew I had the Acting Grand Sage at home like this?"

"They'd praise me," he deadpans. His own plate lightly clinks against the table. "Especially if they knew the main reason why I helped."

"Show-off."

Wanting to keep his cushy job at the Akademiya may have been what had spurred him to take on a core role in the planning of rescuing Lesser Lord Kusanali, but apart from that, he was not about to leave a year's worth of fully-paid, fully covered paternity leave in the hands of some old man that woke up and decided that he wanted to play god.

Even now, it still sounded ridiculous in his head.

Alhaitham and you were only aware that the Grand Sage had something sinister cooking up, but nothing had been concrete. Investigating further was on the top of your priority list until you were faced with the possibility, and eventual confirmation, of your pregnancy.

Being so unexpected, the news had hit the both of you hard and fast. After both of your priorities needed a complete upheaval, it was a scramble to decide the next course of action.

Having you step down from your work as a result of the rough start to your pregnancy had been hard to hide from the prying eyes of Azar, his minions, and gossiping researchers. The walls of the Akademiya had ears. The barest wisps of whatever Azar was planning that had gotten back to you gave you the impression that they had wanted you to join in on the later stages of their scheme.

Recuperation may have been the main motivator, but the likelihood that a blunt rejection would spur on heavy retaliation had been a major reason why you were urged, and convinced, to take a medical leave of absence as early in as possible. As quietly as possible. Your weakened constitution had only spurred the advance of this plan.

Your sudden request for long medical leave had formed the basis of a well-known rumour that you were adamant on not acknowledging, not when you had suspected Alhaitham to be on Azar's hit list. Few knew of your marriage to him, only that you were in a relationship with the Scribe. He can only imagine what types of words were said behind closed doors.

Those days had been tense. Your act—though it wasn't really an act at all—was convincing, but the Sages seemed adamant on having you stay on. They had even questioned Alhaitham about your supposed illness. Half-truths made the best lie, and when Alhaitham only had the truth to tell them, they had no choice but to turn to other avenues.

Thankfully, the rumours had all died out when Tighnari was invited by the Sages to check on you.

Your long-standing friend had done you a favour that day. Under the watchful eye of the sages, the three of you had shared a look that Tighnari easily interpreted. A strongly worded letter of recommendation for medical leave had been issued, and you were immediately granted long leave. The rumours were put out in an instant. On account for your contributions to the Akademiya and to academia itself, your leave had been fully paid for as well.

Alhaitham makes a mental note to send the forest ranger some gifts again after everything dies down. He's been thinking of taking you on a short trip to Pardis Dhyai so you could visit some old classmates and colleagues. Maybe some crates of wine for him and his subordinates would suffice...

"If you revealed everything, I think they'd have a heart attack first," you muse, picking up your spoon. Looking at you now, it's almost as though your pregnancy had been nothing but smooth sailing. You looked so peaceful. Happy and content and glowing.

"I love your cooking," you sigh between bites, taking meaningful chomps out of your meal. Eyes falling shut to savour the taste, Alhaitham can't help but chuckle at the blissed out expression you made.

It's not rare for Alhaitham to cook for you, especially after finding out that you were expecting, but the way your eyes always light up, glimmering with stars? It makes him wonder just how good his food is to you for you to always react like this.

"Good?"

"Mhm!" You nod happily, shoveling the Butter Chicken coated garlic naan into your mouth. The flatbread was cooked to perfection, just the way you liked it. Too busy with your food, you don't even bother with a conversation.

Alhaitham sits back, watching you eat, making sure that his unborn child enjoys his food, too. It was early on in your pregnancy that he realises just how picky his child was. Coupled with morning sickness, any food that wasn't made by him, your body would reject. He had been tense those weeks, pouring over countless texts in the library trying to find a solution that would guarantee both you and your child's safety.

He had tracked your food intake, just to see if there was any sort of pattern that would emerge. To his surprise, one did. The only meals you could hold down were either those made by you, made by those close to you, or his. The latter worked the best. Alhaitham still has that nutrition table in his office, updated to this day.

Really, it's a wonder how people hadn't realised that you were pregnant. After Sumeru's political situation began to calm, he hadn't bothered hiding it. What did people think he ordered maternity dresses for? Even now, the number of people who knew of your pregnancy was few and far between. Cyno, surprisingly, was one of them.

Oh, well.

After seeing that you showed no sign of nausea, he finally picks up his spoon.

"Shall we go for a walk later tonight?" He asks after swallowing a bite of his food. "The weather is nice today."

Before getting swamped by the citizens, he had been thinking that it would be good to bring you out. So far, the only interactions you've had were either with him, the doctors, the stray cats that would visit, or with Kaveh. Although you hadn't complained, he knew that you were getting lonely.

"Really?" You ask excitedly, biting into your coated naan. "Where to?

"Anywhere you want," he says, pouring another ladel full of butter chicken onto your plate. "But we'll take it slow, okay? You haven't been out in some time. I don't want you to overexert yourself."

You chew slowly.

"I'm not weak."

"I never said that."

"You're implying it."

"I did not."

After a bit of back and forth, in which he could tell you were thoroughly enjoying, he remembers something that Housein had told him earlier in the day.

"I believe Miss Nilou is performing tonight. Would you like to watch?"

"Really? I'd love to!" Compared to him, you had always had a deep appreciation for the Arts. It's been some time since you've seen a live performance. Eyes shimmering, you ask, "Can we go get some sweets at the Bazar, too? The baby's been craving it."

You didn't have to pull the cravings card to get it. Alhaitham would have gotten them for you regardless.

"If you'd like," he agrees. "I was thinking that we could get some more books, as well."

"What," you snicker, "the library you have isn't enough for you?"

"It's good to broaden your horizons. And I mean to get books for our child."

"Hm? Why?"

"Aren't you the Amurta scholar?" He quips. Then his voice grows softer. More gentle. "...I read that our child can start hearing in the second trimester."

The look of confusion on your face turns into a fond smile. "I'm not that far along enough, Haitham. That only happens later."

"Better now than never, don't you think?"

"Are you going to be reading to them, then?" You ask, resting your chin on your palm, a smile on your face as you tease him. "Are we going to have bedtime stories now?"

"Of course."

His bluntness takes you off guard, but Alhaitham fails to see how shocking this revelation can be. Why wouldn't he be reading to his child?

"Oh," you say dumbly. "I... Yeah. That's a good idea—Ah!"

Alhaitham's spoon clatters to the table at the sound of your punctured gasp. He's by your side in an instant, looking over you once, twice, thrice, as you hold onto your stomach, eyes blown wide open, pupils dilated.

"W-What?" Adrenaline rushes through his veins. "What's wrong, albi? What's the matter? Are you alright? What hurts? Stay here, I'll call for someone right now-"

"No," you whisper, grabbing his hand to stop him from running off. They tremble in your hold, and he swallows tightly past the lump in his throat. You stare silently at your belly, and Alhaitham, at you.

"Albi," he insists. "My love. Don't scare me. C'mon, we need to... go..."

Palm covering his, you guide his hand to your belly.

Alhaitham, the Scribe of Sumeru, the star of the Haravatat, for the first time in forever, is at a loss for words. Every letter and every syllable he's come to learn dissipates on the tip of his tongue, his mind blanking out into nothingness. Within him, synapses fire off rapidly, capturing everything about this moment. Everything refocuses onto what rests below his palm.

There's a tiny flutter. One that grows more insistent.

"Haitham... I think our baby is trying to say hi."

Bimarstan: Hospital in Sumeru Habibti: Term of endearment meaning Darling Albi: Term of endearment meaning My love

A/N: bc of this fic i'll have to make a new masterlist and update my pinned aaaaaaa okay goodbye it's time for me to return to my studies (and to gojo) [i say this but tell me why i wanna write about the time cyno found alhaitham at the bimarstan with reader...]

©shiinleaf Do not plagiarise, use, translate and/or share my content outside of Tumblr in any way, shape, or form. Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed!

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FAKE DATE SATORU GOJO WITH REAL FEELINGS? ❞

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: you can't help but say yes when your longtime crush asks you to be his fake girlfriend for a year to get the gojo clan to stop arranging marriage proposals for him. but little did you know, he would be doing both of you a favor.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is the same age as gojo, set during s1 of jjk, fake dating hijinks, drunk! gojo, jealous! reader + gojo, implied satosugu (sorta, i see it more in a soulmate way, whether its platonic or romantic), switch! gojo, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, naoya makes an appearance, gojo clan elders suck, gojo's made up clan responsibilities,

✧ wc: 16,043

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 6 has been sold to @chuluoyi and an anon!

“C’mon, you don’t know until you try, sweetheart,” 

You run at your temples, you didn’t need to feel burgeoning ache of a headache forming to know it was coming — but you knew it would whenever you met with this blue eyed idiot, “Satoru, the last time you said that, you nearly got me killed,” you didn’t care to re-live him sending you on a mission meant for him to take a grade 1 one curse, only to end up fighting two other grade 2 curses along with it. 

You were lucky you made it by the skin of your teeth — and lucky that Shoko woke up when you showed up at her door, half dead. 

“And this time, there’s no risk of death,” he grins, stirring his sugary drink that counts more as sugar than a drink, “that shows great personal growth, don’t ya think?” 

“I think this conversation shows that just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you have an ounce of common sense,” you mutter, as you sip at your drink of choice, “Gojo, I can’t marry you — for one, there would be a risk of death — yours,” 

“Eh you wouldn’t be able to kill me — you’re far too—“ and you raise an eyebrow, daring him to finish that sentence, “kind,” 

You rolled your eyes, “One of the traits you’re looking for in your future partner?” 

“The thing is, you wouldn’t have to marry me at all — it would be a big sham!” He said with a thumbs up, as if that made it any better at all, “just for a couple weeks so I can fool the Gojo Clan into complacency and to stop the search for my future spouse — you’d be sparing the hundreds, no thousands, of possible candidates from facing the burden of my rejection,” 

“And I suppose the fact that the clan would get off your back is just a fringe benefit?” You sigh, “Gojo, why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married?” 

“I’ve tried — but the stubborn old geezers won’t budge — I’m caught between a rock and a hard place — and you know me,” his lips curl, “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” 

Yup, you have a headache now. 

“What would we have to do to convince them we were together?” 

Why were you considering this? 

“Dates, a few public outings, meeting the geezers because they would insist, and you would need to show your face around the clan compound,” he lists off, sipping at his drink, “there may be other things, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” You may jump off a bridge by the time this is over and done with, “what do you say?” 

“I have two questions,” and he leaned back in his chair, back and forth, impatience personified, “how long would we have to do it?” You didn’t want to be stuck in this arrangement for an undisclosed amount of time, but the second question was far more important, “ And why me?” 

“Three months, maybe longer,” you gape at him, “I can pay you?” you raise an eyebrow, “I will pay you,” you sigh, “and choosing you was easy because—“ 

“If you make some sort of joke about me being single, I don’t care if you have infinity, I’ll find a way to murder you,” you grumble. 

“Because you’re a sorcerer, you’re from a minor clan — so you’re an acceptable choice, and I trust you — you’re one of my closest friends,” he adds, for once his words are deprived of any humor. 

And that answer was…almost worse than the joke. The word “friend” stuck in your side like a thorn you could never pull out, festering and growing until it had become a part of you — that ached only when you thought of it. 

Your feelings for him, they were still there? You thought you had discarded them years ago, thought it was safe for you to move back to Tokyo from Kyoto, thought you had finally left that childhood crush behind — dead and buried — but here it was, still stubbornly clinging to life. 

And now it would thrive with new roots, stems, leaves, and buds if you agreed to this. 

He said your name, “Well?” 

He remains as inscrutable as always, But you could never say no to him, could you? “Okay, fine,” it would also help you out in the form of another problem of Naoya Zenin who had been nothing but persistent since you came back…but you didn’t want to dwell on that. Your eyes find Gojo’s again — as they always did. 

It was why you had left for Kyoto in the first place. 

“Is this really necessary?” you grumbled, as the servants that served the Gojo clan fussed over your clothes — it was a traditional kimono in the colors of your clan — a deep indigo, embroidered with white koi fish that swam along the fabric, embroidered with waves. You supposed you were only grateful that Gojo didn’t leave you to get dressed yourself. 

Gojo watched as they adjusted the obi around your waist, and your eyes remained fixed ahead, but your gaze couldn’t help but wander to him. Satoru Gojo was always unfairly gorgeous — there was a reason people fawned over him even when he had just rolled out of bed without even a once over at his appearance — but those same people probably would have passed out if they saw him as he was now. 

His formal wear was a sky blue — the same as his eyes, a coat draped over his shoulders and loose trousers of snow white that was a nod to hair of the same color. His hair remained unkempt as it always was. 

“Gonna change into that but not comb your hair?” You remark, and he smirks, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well I think if I start being too well behaved, they’ll know it’s fake,” and the word sticks in your chest like a dagger between the ribs, as the servants finally finish with your clothes, and you sigh. 

You straighten yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror, “How is it only been a couple hours and I’m already exhausted?” 

“The suffocating grip of old geezers and their backwards traditions would do that to you,” but his eyes linger on you, “but lucky for you sweetheart, it seems to suit you,” 

“Do you have to call me that?” You murmur, cheeks warming, as you pretend to busy yourself with adjusting your clothes in the mirror. 

“You have to get used to it,” his footsteps draw closer, heart battering against your ribcage as he does — surely, it would break free of its bony cage by the end of this, as he slides a shiny pendant around your neck — a sliver infinity with a singular small blue gem glinting in the middle — “after all, you are mine now, aren’t you?” 

“Gojo, this is—“ 

“Satoru,” he reminds you, as his fingers brush against your neck as he clasps the necklace, “how will it look if someone overhears you calling me by my last name in private?” And your fingers brush against the necklace, toying with the pendant as you positioned it properly, “do you like it? I had it made especially,” 

Especially — the lack of ‘for you,’ stuck out to you, as you force a smile on your lips, “it’s perfect — it will definitely sell the act,” and your eyes can’t find his as he adjusts his sunglasses, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your blindfold,” you turn to face him, “doesn’t it drain you not to wear it?” 

“I can wear sunglasses sometimes — usually I get strange looks if I wear a blindfold in normal society — and here,” he pulls off the glasses as his cerulean irises seem to pierce your very form, “it reminds these old men who holds the cards here,” it was already hard enough for you to meet Gojo’s gaze as it was, it always felt as if he could stare right through you — and now, it felt as it your entire soul was beholden to him, “and as a bonus,” he draws close again, as he holds out his hand for your own. You resist the urge to bite your lip, inside giving your hand as he wished, and he lifts to his lips, before tilting his head to press the back of his hand to your cheek, “now I can look at my beautiful girlfriend unobstructed by these pesky eye coverings,” 

You scoff, “You always have something to say, don’t you?” As you try and fail to move your hand away, “Gojo—“ 

“A good escort should never let their lady walk in without their hand being held, don’t you think?” And you sigh, as he leads you out of the frying pan and into the fire  — you only hoped you wouldn’t be burned — your eyes sliding to Gojo again, fingers toying with the fabric over your chest — in more than one way. 

“So you’ve gotten yourself a partner, eh, boy?” the elderly man sits with his eyes closed as he sips his tea, steam rolling off the surface in droves, but he seemed unbothered by the heat — perhaps because of the steam coming out of his ears, “I’m shocked,” you kept your gaze down, only had greeting him upon entering — stating your name and clan, before kneeling beside Satoru on a cushion. 

“Shocked that someone like me could ever find my match? I know I’m truly one of a kind,” lips curled in that smirk that seemed to annoy almost everyone Satoru Gojo knew — including you — but no one showed the level of irritation that this man showed. 

Gojo may be the head of the Gojo clan — but you supposed there were still people he had to answer too, if only due to age and tradition — the two very things Gojo hated the most. 

“Why bother respecting those for aging when they haven’t done anything for me to respect?” he had said flippantly to Yaga one day during a lesson, “I rather die young than live to the age of these old coots without accomplishing a damn thing,” and then Yaga firmly smacked Gojo on the head right after, for disrespecting Gakuganji during the sister school exchange event. 

And you had a feeling this meeting was about to go as well as that class did. 

“Is this serious? Have you proposed?” and you have to keep a straight face, but your cheeks burn. 

“Now, don’t embarrass me and my girlfriend,” his fingers intertwined with yours, “but this is serious — she’s the only woman I want to marry — and I’ll do anything to accomplish that,” he leans forward with a smile, squeezing your hand, “because I love her, and I only will ever love her,” 

His gaze slides from Gojo to you, eyes boring into your skull, “and do you feel the same?” 

You never have been one for lying — lying was an uncomfortable feeling that twisted and turned in your stomach like questionable leftovers that you took a gamble on eating, ones that wanted to come out the same way it went in. But you had learned with time because sometimes it was necessary for a sorcerer to lie, and when it was between telling a lie or dying, you’re forced to become quite adept at things you hate. 

And you had learned, as you meet his hardened look, the best lies had some truth ingrained in them. 

“I do, Satoru and I went to Jujutsu Tech together, and he’s the only man I ever loved,” perhaps it was too much truth, as you forced your voice to be steady, “he’s frustrating, irritating, full of himself—“ 

“You don’t have to be that honest—“ Satoru grumbled. 

“But he’s also selfless, unendingly kind, a great teacher, and a good person, maybe even the best person I know,” you can’t bear to look at Satoru, “and he’s the only man I want to call my husband,” 

The silence lingers in the room for a moment before the old man grunts, “I’ll believe it when I see it,” 

“What kind of answer was that?” You asked as Satoru walked you back to the room, his fingers still laced with yours. 

“It means we have to make him believe it — but he’ll at least stop arranging these meetings for me with prospectives,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “and what will make him believe it?” 

He smirks, as he tugs you a little closer, fingers under your chin, “I could kiss you right now, might sell the act,” 

“No one can see us,” 

“Someone’s always watching,” he murmurs, leaning far too close as your breath catches, eyes widening before they flutter shut and you wait. But instead his lips brush your forehead, followed by a flick, “gotcha,” 

Your eyes snap open in a glare, “Gojo!” And he’s cackling. 

“Satoru,” he corrects, as his hand leaves yours as he opens the sliding door to the room, “you coming?” 

You pout, rubbing your forehead, as you brush past him — this was going to be a long few weeks. 

“Why do I even have to go to this?” You were being led through a bustling mall, his arm around your waist, as if to prevent you from escaping (good idea). Your lips twisted in a grimace, you allowed him to drag you along, knowing him, he would carry you over his shoulder without a hint of shame (you don’t think he even contained the word shame in his own vernacular), “can’t you go and wear a ring and go by yourself?” 

“A ring is not as good as having you on my arm now is it?” he bumps you with his hip, “plus, we’re not engaged yet, unless this is a proposal,” he raises an eyebrow, and your cheeks burn. 

“Shut up, I’d never propose to you,” he laughs, but it’s almost strained.

“Never propose to me like that right? Because I deserve a better proposal than that,” he sighs, leading you into a store, “come on, we have to find you a nice outfit for the wedding,” 

You glance at the store, your jaw dropping, “Gojo, this store is so expensive, I can’t afford this—“ 

He lowers his sunglasses just to show you that he’s rolling his eyes, “Who said you’re paying, Princess?” You stare at him, slack jawed, while a salesperson comes up to the two of you — though she’s clearly only interested in one of you. 

“Hi, what can I help you with finding today?” her lips curled in a smile, as she twirled a strand of her around her fingers, “I’d be more than happy to assist you,” her gaze completely fixed on Gojo, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment for you to spare. 

You bite back a scowl, plastering on a fake smile, as you lean into Gojo, “My boyfriend is looking to buy me an outfit for a wedding we’re attending — baby, could you tell her what style you want me to wear?” 

Gojo glances at you, a flicker of surprise that is quickly covered up by a smirk, his arm tightening around your waist, “Yes, I have to make sure my sweetheart is looking her best — so can you please find these styles of dresses for me?” You can’t help the smile on your lips as the salesperson shuffles away, lips a thin line rather than the grin she once had. 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Gojo chuckles, and you roll your eyes, hoping your expression didn’t give your heart away, the feelings you had stuffed into a crevice of your chest that threatened to burst. 

So you choose to turn it on him instead, as you meet his gaze with a small smirk, “I don’t like people taking what’s mine,” 

But he only takes it in stride, only as Gojo can, “I’m yours, huh?” 

You shrug, choosing to hurt yourself rather than let him do it, “at least for the next two to three months,” and your gaze snaps away and looks to the saleswoman as she comes back with a selection, “if you get to choose my dress, I get to choose a suit for you, deal?” 

Gojo raises an eyebrow, but smiles, “Anything for you, princess.” 

“You just wanted to see me model for you, didn’t you?” Gojo emerges from the changing room in a black button down and white suit coat with a matching white tie — as he tilts his head, “I would say my best suit is my birthday suit,” and you grimace, “oh c’mon, it was a good joke, although—“ 

“Don’t say it’s true,” you lean back, phone in hand as you snap a picture as you did for the last three, “I love to see that self confidence of yours has grown into full blown arrogance,” 

“How can I not be arrogant when I see you snapping pictures of me?” He crosses his arms, the fabric taut and straining over his chest, the top button undone, showing off the adam’s apple that bobs in his throat, “it’s definitely a step up from when you ignored me,” 

You snap from your thoughts, “When did I ignore you?” 

“When we graduated Jujutsu Tech, you’d spend time with Nanami or spend a weekend with Shoko, but whenever I was around, you wouldn’t even reply to a text,” your eyes fall to the floor, chewing your lip, “it wasn’t always like that — I thought we were close,”

It was true — but it wasn’t because you hated him. It was the opposite. You had tried to be his friend, but the more you were his friend, the more it hurt — hurt to see him smile at you like everyone else, hurt to see him with his eyes on the one he wanted, and with his arm around Suguru. 

And you really didn’t hate Suguru —  it was the opposite really — you thought they were perfect, a person who grounded him, made him a better person, and with a much tighter grip on reality than Gojo did — perhaps too tight. Too tight that it shattered apart in his hands, the pieces too far gone to pick out — and too far gone to save him. 

You tried to be there for him — knock on his door when you knew he was home and force him to shower while you and Shoko cleaned up his room. You stayed even when Shoko had long left, holding his hand as he hid his tears from you with his back turned, and you didn’t admit you could hear his nearly silent tears. But eventually, it turned into movie nights, meals shared, and even grocery runs. 

And it became harder and harder to hide how you felt — each minute spent with him was another drop in a bucket that was already overflowing to begin with. At first it had been a crush — an unattainable crush that you were happy to leave at just that. But eventually, it became so much more — you had fallen in love with him, when you really shouldn’t have. Because he didn’t need a partner — he needed a friend. 

“Gojo, I didn’t ignore you—“ 

“I’ve called you sweetheart, did your number change and then magically change back when you came back to Tokyo?” 

But once he had pulled himself together, you were graduating and you requested to be put in Kyoto — your excuse being you were tired being in the city — but to Satoru, you gave no excuse, you quietly left without a word. Because you were really tired of having your heart broken — so you needed space, and you were willing to do anything to get it. 

“Gojo, I didn’t really talk much to Nanami or Shoko when I left either, I just needed space—“ 

“Space from what?” You sighed, parting your lips when his phone rings. He checks it before taking it, “another mission? Yeah, I can leave tonight,” you bit your lip, “send Ijichi to take me to the airport. Yeah, ok,” and he hangs up, “we’ll have to cut this short. I have to go overseas,” 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“Probably just a few days. I’ll be back soon,” you bite your lip, and he tilts his head, “you worried about me, Princess?” 

You flush, opening and closing your mouth, “I am,” and he blinks, seemingly surprised, “come back safe. Text me to let me know when you land,” 

His lips curl, as he ruffles your hair, “I will — and I’ll be back soon enough. Promise,” and he pauses, “you want a souvenir?” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“I want to,” he cuts you off, and your cheeks warm. 

And just then, he gets a text, “Ijichi Is almost here. I’ll have him drop you back first,” and he turns to change out of his clothes.

“Satoru,” you catch him by the sleeve, and he pauses, “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you after all of that. It had nothing to do with you, there was just a lot going on—“ he says your name, but you shake your head, “but it won’t happen again, I promise,”

“Good,” he steps back into the changing room, a grin on his lips, “I wouldn’t let you get away this time anyway, sweetheart.” 

“Gojo?” You say again, and he tilts his head, “get the indigo suit,” 

He grins, “and you have good taste, well, of course you do,” he holds the door open, “I am your boyfriend after all.” 

And the door of the fitting room swings shut, and you hope he’s not looking at you, as your cheeks burn, your heart squeezing in spite of every thought of your mind telling not to go there — not to go down that road, but you should have known, the moment you said yes to this plan—

You were already there. 

You had never known that the buzz of your phone could make you more happy — or anxious. 

But it had been over the course of the last few days. Because you’re probably an idiot, but that wasn’t the point. 

how bad of an idea would it be for me to try this Karanga and Chapati place that Yuta recommended? 

You snorted, Satoru, the last time you had curry — that wasn’t even that spicy, you couldn’t taste anything for a week.

Another buzz, But Yuta said it’s not so bad

You roll your eyes, imagining the pout he undoubtedly has on his lips — Yuta has never seen you cry over a bowl of curry — stick with your desserts, and you chuckle as you add: you may be the strongest but you have the weakest taste buds 

It takes some time for another response to come — and when it does, you realize a grave error on your part was made: never point out any flaw to this idiot because he will take it as a challenge. 

This is Yuta — Gojo-sensei tried it and he’s now in the bathroom. He told me to tell you he’d text you later. 

This was how the last few days flew by — texts with updates about his mission, his work, and his check-ins with Yuta. And the night before he was flying back, just as you were cooking dinner, he called you— 

“Gojo? Isn’t it 2:00 AM there right now?” 

“You learned the time difference for me?” you heard his words slur over the other line, “Sweethearttttt,” I went out with Yuta and Miguel, and I may have gotten a littttttle tipsy,” 

“Isn’t it like 2:00 AM there?” 

He clicks his tongue, “Miguel challenged me to a drinking contest,” and you groan, rubbing a hand down your face, “but they got me back into my hotel room, even though I’m not tired,” he mumbles, as you hear the crinkle of his bedsheets and the rustling of his comforter. 

“Have you drank water? How much alcohol did you have?” 

“Are you worried about me?” he giggles, before sighing, “I’m glad,” 

“Why are you glad?” You hold the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you stir the pan with your dinner currently in it. 

“Because it means you care about me,” he murmurs, “everyone who cares about me always leaves,” he gives a small bitter chuckle, “maybe it’s better for you not to care about me. It’s dangerous to care about someone like me — the type to die young or live far too long,” 

“Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he mutters, voice growing thick with sleep, “call me Satoru,” and his soft snores fill your ear as he falls into the sandman’s grasp — a small reprieve from his feelings — while you were left to dwell in them. 

All this time you had been thinking how you felt, what you were dealing with, what you wanted — and all these years and you hadn’t thought about how your actions made him felt. You thought he was beyond any hurt you could possibly inflict — his infinity meant that he was leagues above anywhere you could possibly reach — but it didn’t. 

He wasn’t. He was a person — and when had you stopped treating him as one? 

You texted Yuta: make sure your sensei is lying on his side and make him drink some water. And don’t let Miguel goad him into drinking ever again. 

Yuta: got it. sorry about that sensei — gojo wouldn’t listen

You scoffed, chuckling at how Yuta called you sensei but did not afford Gojo the same courtesy. 

You stayed on the phone with Gojo, hearing Yuta come in and persuading him to drink some water, before he fell back asleep, but even in his drunken state, he wouldn’t give up his phone — Yuta snapping a picture and sending it to you. You laughed when you saw it — loml with a dozen hearts and a picture of you in your obi, clearly taken when you weren’t looking, but it wasn’t those things that made you laugh — it was the way Gojo clung to his phone, fingers wrapped around it desperately, as he slept. 

You stayed on the phone with him all night, even when you went to bed — of course just to make sure he’s fine — the call waking you when it disconnected after reaching the max call time. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the time — 5:00 AM. And almost like clockwork, your phone rings again, Gojo’s number flashing on your screen. 

You pick up, “Mm, hello?” you yawn, “finally awake sleeping beauty?” 

“Glad you finally decided to acknowledge my beauty,” his voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, and god, you can’t help but imagine waking to this voice every day — “ugh I have a headache,” he murmurs, the crumple you hear must be him burying his face in his pillow because the next question he asks is muffled, “why were we on the phone?” 

“You called me last night after drinking, and refused to hang up after Yuta helped you get settled,” you chuckle, as you hear his groan over the phone, “I got a new contact picture for you out of it, love of my life,” 

“Glad you’re finally on board,” he mutters, growing quiet, “why didn’t you hang up?” 

You pause, “what do you mean?” You ask slowly. 

“You could’ve hung up at any time, but you stayed on the phone, even when you fell asleep,” his voice was soft, “why?” 

“I just,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t lie to him, at least not completely, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and you didn’t want to hang up — so I didn’t,” 

He’s silent for a moment, and you almost wish you could sink into the Earth — but he only says, “okay, now what’s the plan for the day, Princess?” 

Your lips curl, “Well my day has not really began yet since it’s 5:00 AM here, so I’m probably going to sleep for several hours and wake up at an hour that is not bereft of god,” 

“You really couldn’t just say ‘ungodly?’” He snorts. 

“Well, 5:00 AM makes me wax poetic, what can I say?” Another yawn parts your lips, “I’m going to sleep,” 

But he doesn’t hang up, “I’ll be here, sweetheart.”  

You glanced at the time, he’s late. 

Well, he wouldn’t be Gojo if he didn’t make an entrance. You slumped on the couch — even if he was getting home from his mission, there was no guarantee he’d stop by your place to see you. He might want to just go home — or stop by Jujutsu Tech, or be anywhere else. You couldn’t have expectations — expectations were only a  way to be disappointed, a drop from soaring that would only be met with the impact of the cold, unforgiving ground. 

Especially expectations from a fake relationship. You lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling — why were being such an idiot about this? The TV drones on in the background, illuminating the dark of the living room, as you sit barely paying attention to a random rom com you had picked. 

Maybe it was because Satoru had spent the rest of today on the phone with you, even through a security check (warning the security officers not to hang up his call) and at the gate. And then every day after that, he had called and texted you like clockwork — stupid things— good morning and good night, random memes that made him think of you, pictures of his day (including ones of him messing with his students), questions of what sweet you wanted from the shop he had decided to frequent, calls about your day and his own, and hours long conversations about nothing at all. Maybe because you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you — or maybe it was because you were just down bad. 

It was probably the latter. 

You take a throw pillow and pull it over your face. What were you thinking? Falling for your old crush and fake boyfriend a night before a wedding was a trope in a bad rom com that you spent your weekend night watching — it shouldn’t be how you feel. 

“That’s a nice look,” you jump, pulling the pillow away, to be met with Gojo’s gaze hidden behind another pair of sunglasses, “honey, I’m home,” 

You bite back your smile, “one, this isn’t your home, and two, how did you get inside?” 

“It’s pretty easy when you can teleport, you should try it sometime,” he sits beside you, more like collapses as he falls into the couch, his head resting against the top, “although if someone moved in with me, it’d be much easier,” and you laugh. 

“Shouldn’t you ask a girl out before you ask her to move in?” he shrugs, his arm resting across the top of the couch. 

“I’m anything but traditional,” he sighs, glancing at the TV, “what are we watching?” 

“A bad rom com,” 

He snorts, “watching it to mercilessly pick it apart?” And you raise an eyebrow, “what? I did stay awake for some of those movies— it was some of my favorite memories during that time and some of the only times I could actually sleep,” 

“Yeah, it was a nice way for both of us to turn our brains off for a bit,” you glanced at him, “thought it’d be nice for us too,” his gaze slides to you curiously, “I know there’s been a lot on your mind — with itadori and the special grades,” 

He sighs, running fingers through his hair,  “Yeah, old geezers seem to cause problems in all parts of my life,” you snort, “can’t believe they’d try to do away with Itadori while I was gone,” 

“They don’t see anyone as innocent — they see whether you’re an asset or a threat, unfortunately, they see Itadori not as the former,” you shake your head, as your eyes stare at the movie flashing on the screen, but you don’t really watch, “they’re too far gone to see the innocence of children,” 

“You sound like Kento,” and your eyes meet his, his cerulean gaze already on you, his sunglasses discarded on your coffee table. 

“Funny, thought I sounded like you,” he blinks a moment, “Satoru, you’re all about preserving the youth of children — that’s why you saved Megumi, Yuta, and Yuji — even when you had every reason not to,” 

“How could I not? Youth belongs to the young after all,” a wistful smile on his lips, “i don’t want the same to happen to them that happened to us,” 

“To us,” you repeat, a sharp pain sticks between your ribs at the flash of Haibara’s smile and the whisper of Suguru’s laugh, “more like to them,” 

“Yeah,” a silence falling over the two of you as the white noise of the TV filled the quiet, “but sometimes I think we went down along with them,” 

You shake your head, “I think a part of us did — a part of us will stay there—“ frozen in time and seeping like poison in our bones, “but we’re still here,” you risk to toe the line you’d never cross, your fingers brushing his, “and it’s not over for us,” 

And his eyes flicker to your fingers threaded with his, as his fingers squeeze yours slowly, the corner of his lips quirk upwards, as you stretch and sit up, fingers falling away from his, a yawn on your lips, “should we get some sleep?” 

“Come on, let’s finish the movie,” he murmurs, even though sleep seems to weigh heavily on his body, eyelids fluttering shut as he turns to you, cheek pressed against the couch, “hey,” he murmurs, “it wasn’t the movies that let me relax,” and you can hear the unspoken meaning in those words — but that was the problem. 

It was unspoken. 

Your fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to brush your fingers against his cheek — but you can’t. 

You’d allowed yourself to toe the line you’d long drawn in the sand that you’d built into a wall — you had even allowed yourself to stir a few bricks from its place, but you couldn’t cross it. Not now. 

Your eyes are growing heavy. Maybe not ever. 

Your neck hurts. 

The first thought you have as you rouse into aching consciousness. Why was it so bright? Did you forget to draw your curtains? You draw an arm over your face, already dreading the waking hours, until you realize it’s your day off, and you sigh, relaxing into your bed. 

Or what you thought was your bed. 

Except your bed couldn’t move, nor could it pull you closer. But now something or someone was, an arm around your waist with movement behind you that made breath warm your ear. And you probably would have screamed, if you hadn’t heard the familiar voice whisper your name in your ear. 

Gojo. 

Gojo??? 

Your head slowly turned to be met with the strongest sorcerer very much passed out, half behind you, half on top of you — his blue eyes hidden under his eyelids for once instead of any covering that he used to protect himself. His snowy white locks brushed against your skin, the close proximity doing nothing to alleviate your feelings — you had only hoped you could see one flaw, one ick, and maybe you’d be done. But on Satoru Gojo? The man born to be perfect — the same one who sang karaoke for the first time as a teen only to be so incredible that it moved your server to tears? 

You really should have fucking known better. 

Your breath caught, and you wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment—if no one had, you would surely be the first case. You were always a trail blazer. 

And you tried to shift again, if only to maneuver yourself out of this situation, but he moved along with you, seeking out the contact he was losing. And this only ended with him lying on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and his legs straddling one of your legs— and then you felt it — a very distinct bulge pressed against your thigh. 

Fuck. Your. Life. 

He mumbled in his sleep, nose brushing against the hollow of your neck, drawing another shiver from your body. You had a rare opportunity to touch him — didn’t you, no infinity between the two of you — just him and you. You were in a position probably many desired to be in — admirers and enemies alike (neither category being mutually exclusive). You supposed old habits die hard — and so did old crushes. 

Could you let yourself enjoy this for a moment? Enjoy the feeling, no matter how real it never would be? Maybe it was wrong, but — your eyes fluttered shut as your arm wrapped loosely around Gojo — you certainly didn’t want to be the one to wake up first. 

And you weren’t — your eyes flutter open to movement, and your eyes meet cerulean eyes, lips parted in surprise, “Morning,” he manages, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks, “did we fall asleep?” 

“I guess we did,” you bite your lip, “are you going to—” 

And he blinks, before scrambling off of you, “Sorry,” he mumbles, as he turns away to fidget with his phone. 

“Guess that was one very boring movie,” you murmur. 

“Or I was in a very comfortable bed,” he replies with a smirk that turns to a grimace. 

“What is it?” 

“Naoya Zenin is making an appearance at the wedding we’re attending tomorrow,” and you groan, as he raises an eyebrow, “how many proposals had he made you?” 

You scoff, “Proposals? More like propositions,” you shake your head, already aching from the sleep you had barely shaken off and now it had graduated to a shooting pain that made your eye twitch at the thought of that man, “he’s offered to do me the ‘honor’ of being the next heir’s husband half a dozen times. If he ever becomes the head of the Zenin clan, I may help Maki annihilate them myself,” 

Naoya Zenin — the most pretentious and egocentric man you had the displeasure of meeting. Even his pretty face could do nothing to fix his hideous personality ridden with misogyny, hatred, and spite. And you’d been offered his hand in marriage half a dozen times due to your lineage in a lesser known clan family with a unique cursed energy. It was a strategic move to try and secure his place — as was every move he made — he had no room for anyone he deemed useless to his plan. 

Unfortunately, you did not fall into that special category.

“That won’t happen,” Gojo replies, texting on his phone, “plus, he’s too weak to force that to happen — not to mention he’s a first class prick,” 

“You say that, but you basically propositioned me,” you teased, as his eyes flit up from his phone, as you rise from the couch, “quite the proposal you came to me with,” 

He pauses a moment, a small smile on his lips, “one, i don’t recall proposing, and trust me that’s something I’d remember,” and you roll your eyes, “and two, aren’t you just as bad, since you said yes, sweetheart?” 

“Can you blame a girl wanting a little extra money?” And he locks his phone, drawing close, your breath catching as he lets himself linger for a second too long. 

“Can you blame a man for wanting a beautiful and intelligent woman?” And he’s leaning close, but he leans back, only grabbing his coat from the couch, still slung over as it had been. He spares you a smirk at your bewildered expression, “close your mouth, you’ll catch flies, princess, and what a shame that would be,” you scowl, and he laughs as he heads to the door, slipping on his shoes, with a final glance and grin thrown over his shoulder as he opened your door, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

Right. Tomorrow. The wedding. 

Fuck. You were so screwed. 

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Fuck. You scrambled from your vanity as you finished putting the finishing touches on your look for tonight. You didn’t think Satoru Gojo of all people could ever be on time, but you supposed there was a first time for everything. 

You slipped the dress over your head, careful not to smear your makeup or mess up your hair. You were starting to regret not having the Gojo family’s attendants get you ready for this event, if only so you could have turned your mind off for this time. But you knew all too well that your mind could never give you a break — with all of that free time came free real estate for your anxiety to set up camp and put down roots for all the things that could possibly go wrong. So it was better this way, as you reach for the ties on the back of your dress — of course, maybe if you had let yourself be helped, you could actually have someone to tie your corset back on this dress. 

Another knock. 

“Sweetheart?” You hear Gojo’s muffled voice through the door, “you’re not planning on standing me up are you?” 

You stumble your way to the door, clutching the back of your dress, as you take a breath and throw it open, “Can you tie the back of my dress?” 

Fuck. He looked gorgeous. His hair was parted and combed off to the side, a deep blue suit coat and a crisp white collared shirt tucked into a matching suit pant. A pair of sunglasses were tucked into the chest pocket of his jacket in front of a white pocket square. 

“No hello, ‘can you tie my dress?’” Gojo tilts his head, his eyes graze over your appearance, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him, “turn around,” And you do, fingers still clutching at the fabric at the back of your dress, cheeks burning as you do, “gonna have to let go, and let me help you, sweetheart,” 

You slowly let go, but his warm fingers brush against the skin of your bare back as he holds the dress up from slipping, carefully lacing the corset, “I was right, blue is your color,” he murmurs, as he tugs lightly at the strings, “let me know when it’s tight enough,” 

“It’s good now,” you sigh — though the corset wasn’t as tight as your chest now, you face him now, trying to adjust your hair. 

“Let me,” one hand cups your chin gently, your breath catching and you can only hope he can’t feel your pulse through your skin. His fingers run through your soft tresses, your eyes unable to meet his — but you wonder if he can see right through you anyway — “you’ve never been good at asking for help,” 

“Look who’s talking,” you glare at him, as he chuckles, “well, I asked you didn’t I?” 

“Why did you ask me?” You raise an eyebrow, “I’m sure you could have asked anyone,” 

“Well, I didn’t want just anyone,” he murmurs, fingers tracing the blush you had lined your cheeks with, “I wanted you,” 

“Why?” And he parts his lips, a soft smile that pulls at his features — was it a hint of pink across his cheeks. 

“Because—“ and your phone goes off — a reminder with the time of the wedding. And the moment’s broken, as reality settles over you again, “We’ll be late,” 

“I don’t mind being late,” and a heat burns from his touch, from the tips of your fingers to the his fingers leave your cheek, warmth fading as quickly as it came, but he offers his hand, “but if it’s for you, I can be on time,” and your fingers find his, interlacing, before he tugs you close, his arm around your waist, “as long as you stay by my side.”

You never were one for weddings. At least not one like this. 

A stuffy event held in an extravagant manner — a large banquet hall for the reception, but now the guests roamed the gardens the hall opened out into — lush greenery serving as a perfect backdrop for this wedding — a distant branch of the Zenin family was marrying, which meant all of the main clans were invited to attend. Including several elders of the Gojo clan. 

And now you were being subjected to this as well — several dozen eyes on you — all due to the man whose arm you were on. His arm wrapped almost protectively around your waist, his lips nearly brushed against your ear when he whispered in it, letting you know just exactly who was coming over. 

“I didn’t think you were one to care for remembering these things,” you wave at the couple that just left the two of you, his fingers grazing the skin behind your ear as he tucked a stray strand behind it. 

“I usually don’t care, but I know it’d make you uncomfortable otherwise, especially among all these people,” he smirks, his fingers finding yours, and squeezing, “plus, we need to make a good impression, don’t we?” 

“I think we’re making an impression just by being together,” you murmur, and he raises an eyebrow, “everyone’s staring — didn’t you notice?” and he shrugs, a sly smile on his lips. 

“Didn’t notice,” he tilts his head, his eyes fixed on you, “I was too busy looking elsewhere, I guess,” 

Your cheeks burn, but as your lips part to respond, you see him walking over to the discreet corner you had parked yourselves in,  “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, your fingers tightening around his. 

Naoya Zenin strides over in a black yukata kimono, his silver hair pushed back, his lips twisted in a slimy smile that made your skin crawl, your name leaving his lips, “it’s been far too long, you’re looking lovely,” his eyes raked over you like hot coals, “though the company you keep—” 

“Has improved markedly,” Satoru’s lips curl in a grin, “do you have business with my girlfriend?” 

Naoya raises an eyebrow, “Girlfriend?” 

Satoru’s arm tightens around your waist, “I didn’t realize you went hard of hearing — I know your hair had started to go, but your hearing too—” you hid your snort poorly, Naoya’s sharp gaze flickering between the two of you. 

“I’m younger than you are, and my hair is bleached,” he snaps, “or are those six eyes not sharp enough to see that as well? They certainly aren’t enough for you to have found Suguru Geto before he caused a war,” 

And Satoru’s hurt is imperceptible — a hint of hurt that only shows in the tightness of his jaw for a millisecond, before he’s only giving another laugh. 

“At least I am already the head of my clan, because even if I were without my six eyes,” he smirks, but a certain meanness pulls at his features, “I’m still not as weak as you are—”

Naoya’s expression sours, curdled into a foul scowl, “What did you—” 

“Alright,” you hold up your hands, “Let’s save the dick measuring contest for later, okay? This is a wedding, let’s not cause a scene, ok?” you glance between the two of them, and Satoru pouts — while Naoya seems all too pleased, a grin broken across his lips. 

“This is why you’re the perfect woman — you know how to mediate between men’s egos, and—” 

“Naoya, I said let’s not cause a scene, and you’re two steps away from me causing one right now,” you snap, “I wasn’t interested the first dozen times you asked me when I was single, so why would you think I’d be interested now, when I have a boyfriend?” 

His face flushes red, and you’re not sure whether it’s in anger or embarrassment, “I doubt you’re even really a couple,” he hisses, “I know all about the proposals that this idiot has been getting and the pressure to marry,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sure you’ll come running to me once he’s done using you—“ 

Satoru surges forward, but you press a hand against his chest, “We don’t need to justify our relationship to you, so think what you want — but even if Satoru and I break up, I rather die single than ever spend a minute with you,” and you look at Satoru, your gaze softening, “and I rather spend be single for the rest of my life than spend another minute without him,” and you slide your eyes back to Naoya, his fists clenched, as you lean in, “so fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the staff begin to wave everyone into their seats, and the wedding begins. The two of you sit, a silence falling over as others take their seats beside you. A subtle tension as music filled the air and the wedding proceedings began—but you could have cared less— god what the fuck had you said to Naoya? How had Gojo taken it? Does he know how you feel? Does he think it’s an act? 

Then his fingers find yours, “Thank you,” he whispers softly, managing only those two words before the wedding begins. 

And it dawns on you — it wasn’t what you said, it was the fact you had defended him, your heart aches, it was the fact you had defended him when Naoya insulted Suguru. 

Your eyes stay fixed forward as the ceremony begins — it was never about you — as you pulled your fingers away from him. 

Like it always never was. 

The wedding ceremony goes by — as does the reception, without much to-do. The only silver lining is that there’s far too much small talk for the two of you to have a moment to talk alone, especially when the two of you spot the Gojo clan elders side-eyeing you from the table of old folks, not to mention Naoya hovering around that same table, the same scowl on his face. The only remark that Satoru whispered as the two of you floated by the table pointedly, a smirk on his lips as he waved and held you close to his side — “one quick hollow purple could solve my problems,” 

You gave a forced chuckle at that — unfortunately not yours. 

And finally, the two of you head home — in relative silence, the drive being short to Gojo’s apartment, where your car was parked. You sigh as he pulls in, “I’ll head out I guess—” 

“Why don’t you just stay the night?” and your gaze snaps to his, the first time all night, “it’s really late, and I have a guest room—” 

“My apartment isn’t—” 

“Your apartment isn’t far, but I thought we could…talk,” and your heart gallops to a start — talking was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“What is there to talk about?” And his fingers brush against your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. 

“Maybe about why you can’t meet my eyes?” You huff, looking away. 

“Can you blame me? Your blue eyes are freaky,” you grumble, and you can hear the judgment in the silence, a first for Gojo,  “Gojo, what do you want me to say?” 

He stays quiet for a moment, “You don’t have to say anything, just come inside,” So you do — following him inside, the silence hanging over you like a guillotine waiting to slice, “Thank you for what you said—“ 

The door clicks behind him, as you stop, “Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you’re shaking your head. 

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just—“ 

“But what you said—“ 

“I said what I had to—“ 

“You didn’t have to say all that, Princess,” his voice grows soft, “you know you didn’t,” and he’s drawing closer across his living room. 

“He was upsetting you,” you murmur, eyes unable to find his again, falling instead to his plush carpet laid against his hardwood, “I couldn’t stand by and let him — I know it hurt when he brought up Suguru—“ 

“Suguru?” he repeats, and your eyes find his, finally, and you find his brow furrowed, “is that what you think I was thanking you for?” 

“What else would you—“ and he’s stepping even closer, your breath stuck in your throat as his fingertips graze your cheek again, “Satoru—“ 

“Did I mention how beautiful you looked tonight?” he murmurs, a soft chuckle in his voice, “you always look beautiful, but tonight in particular, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” 

“You don’t have to—“ 

“That’s just it, I don’t have to,” his palm slides against your cheek, “I want to — I want to when it’s you,” 

“But, i can’t do this, not like this,” tears burn at the corners of your eyes, water threatening to spill out of a too full glass that had been full for far too long, “not when it will give me—“ you cut yourself off before you cut your own heart out, but he’s only forcing the scalpel back into your hand. 

“Give you what?” 

And you can’t turn back now — you’d turned from this road far too many times, sprinted in the opposite direction only to end up here again — you needed to do this, even if it lead to a dead end cliff, “Give me the wrong idea,” and you’re turning away, but his hand catches you by the wrist, “stop, I—“ 

“It’s not the wrong idea,” and you stop. 

No, it was. It was, right? 

“Satoru—“ and his fingers find your own, as he steps closer, “please, don’t—“ 

“If you want me to really stop and forget about this, I will,” he murmurs, “I’ll turn around and open the door and let you go home right now, sweetheart. I won’t bring this up again,” but you don’t move away, you don’t say anything, so he continues, “but if you don’t want that, and you want the same thing I do—“ 

“And what is it that you want?” And you hear his soft chuckle, his cheek brushing against you, as his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“I thought that was obvious, but I guess I’ll have to spell it out for you,” he squeezes your hand, as he guides your face to look back at him, his lips curled in a small smile, “I want you,” 

Your breath is shaky, no, no — he doesn’t mean that, “No you don’t,” 

He tilts his head, “You don’t think I don’t know what I want?” 

“Satoru, I don’t want to be a substitute for others—“ 

And his hands are sliding around your middle, pulling you closer, “You think I could ever think of you as a second choice?” 

“But—“ and every doubt from when you were younger wells up, every fear of not being enough — but they are erased away, crumbled into dust, by the way he looks at you — entire multitudes of skies all made to look at you. 

“You keep finding reasons not to do this,” and his fingers skim your cheek, before resting under your chin, “but have you tried finding a reason why we should?” 

“Satoru—“ you can’t help but lean into his touch — god, he was a temptation personified — everything you ever wanted, even when you tried not to want it. These feelings were never fake — so why not give in? Just this once. Your fingers slide against his cheek, and you can feel his skin burn under your touch, “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“No, sweetheart,” he leans in even closer, your breaths becoming one, “but I’d love to find out,” 

His lips brush yours — it’s chaste, hesitant, testing the waters — he tastes like sugar, and you almost laugh — he tastes like the frosting from the wedding cake that he had swiped a slice of on the way out that he finished before you two had reached his car. His eyes flutter open for half a second, before your lips are crashing to his this time — a new record for addiction? A second maybe and you were too far gone. 

His hands cup your cheeks, one sliding to the back of your neck, as the other slides down to your waist to pull you ever closer. 

“Did you find it out?” You murmur between kisses, lips meeting and parting if only to allow you both a breath. And his snowy eyelashes flutter, as his lips quirk upwards. 

“Think I need another,” and his lips swallow any coherent thoughts you have, his hands slipping down your sides, lips parting again, “another,” he murmurs, a kiss, “another,” 

“How many do you need?” you ask breathlessly, a chuckle caught in your throat, and his lips press desperate kisses along your jaw, a smirk against your skin. 

“Is infinity an answer?” And you laugh, “have to take responsibility — I’m addicted to you,” 

“And if I’m addicted?” His hands squeeze your hips, drawing a gasp from your lips. 

“I’d be more than happy to take responsibility for you, Princess — always have,” 

Your heart beats against the bars of its cage, threatening to burst out — but you couldn’t — not without knowing, “And if you break my heart?”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” he leans down to press butterfly kisses to your cheek, “but even if I do, I’ll put it back together,” 

“Promise?” You murmur, and his lips meet yours again, and again, as he’s leading you towards his bedroom, his fingers running through your hair.

And the door to his bedroom swings shut, “Promise.”  

“How long are you going to tease me?” you’re grumbling, cheeks hot and eyes averted, the back of your hand pressed against your lips, as Satoru presses needy kisses along your neckline of your dress. 

He looks up at you through his snowy lashes, and you don’t know if you want to slap the smile off his lips or kiss it off, “You’ve been teasing me for years, you can’t give me this time, sweetheart?” His teeth graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “plus, do y’know how fun it is to watch you squirm?” 

Slap. It’s definitely a slap. 

“You’re insufferable,” and he smirks when your breath catches when his lips ghost over the swell of your chest. 

“Yet you’re the one who's under me—“ and you try to get up only for him to pin you back down, a pout on his lips, “alright, alright, can’t blame me for wanting to see you squirm, Princess, how many chances will I get?” 

“Only this one if you keep this up,” and he’s finding your lips in a languid kiss, an apology with no words, a smile filled with affection that only made it hard for you to feign annoyance. 

“Then I better make this count,” he’s gently helping you up, turning you around to undo your corset strings — but you wonder if he’s undoing it or tangling it, “why did we choose a dress with such a complicated back?” It’s his turn to grumble and it only draws a giggle from you. 

“Surprised you haven’t hollow purple’d it by now,” 

“Trust me if you weren’t in it, I would have,” he sighs, as the fabric begins to loosen up, slipping off your shoulders. 

“And here I thought you were good at everything,” you chuckle as he helps you shimmy out of the dress, the fabric falling away from you in a small pool around your ankles. Pools of blue rake over your exposed body, raising goosebumps in its wake, as your arms reflexively try to cover yourself, but his hands find your own, easing them away. 

“I’m good at what counts, Princess,” he kisses your wrist, pulse jumping under his touch, nose brushing against it, he hovers over you, as he undoes his tie, fingers tugging at the knot, as he undoes the top button of his shirt, “and I’ll show you.” 

~~~~

Satoru had dreamed of this — of you and him. He knew when he realized it — although it was too late when he did. Maybe it was the night before you left — the night after graduation — before you left — you had fallen asleep watching the movie you had put on. Your lips parted and mouth ajar, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were out. He had leaned over to grab his phone to snap a picture to tease you with later, only for your fingers to grab onto him, your head on his shoulder, a quiet murmur of his name. 

“Satoru,” — not Gojo, as you had always called him. And he knew he wanted to hear you say it again and again. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away, his head leaning against yours.

Suguru was everything to him for a time — he had come to Satoru at a time where he thought no one else would ever be able to understand him. No one else would be able to reach him — because how does a person reach for a god? But here you were — and the way your head rested on his shoulder and your lips said his name made him want nothing more than you by his side. 

And when you left — you didn’t reply to his messages, you disappeared, just like everyone else did in his life. He was always left alone in the end — maybe it was his fate. 

But then you came back — came back almost right after Suguru left for good. And that part of his heart that was meant for you began to thrive again and again — as he spent more time with you. 

And god, when his clan started to pressure him to find someone to marry — he wrote them off as he always did. He thought he could ride out the ridiculous proposals and dates they had arranged for him — but as he thought more about who he wanted to spend his time with, who he wanted to see after a tiring mission, and who he couldn’t imagine being without —- 

And he realized it was you. 

“Satoru, don’t tease me,” you pouted, teeth bearing down on your bottom lip, legs spread for him, his eyes flirting between your all too cute expression and the growing wet patch on your panties, “fuck, please—“ 

“Gonna have to tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his arm hooked under your knee, your foot pressed against his back, “where do you want me?” 

“You fuck-er—“ the last syllable is a gasp as he kisses your sensitive clit through your soaked underwear, “Toru—“ a whine leaves your throat. 

Fuck, you’re so cute, his fingers toy with the elastic of your panties — and all of this was worth it, worth it to see if these feelings were what he thought they were, worth it to make you smile, and worth to end up with you. 

“How can I refuse you when you say my name like that?” he’s tugging your underwear away, exposing your sipping cunt to a rush of air and his warm breath, “all this f’me, baby?” You mumble something he can’t quite make out, “what was that?” 

Your glassy eyes look up at him, blown wide with lust, “Only f’you, Satoru,” fuck, his dick twitches — he could bust just looking at you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, “g’nna make me cum just with your words,” but he diverts his attention to your needy cunt, his long fingers graze over your pussy, collecting the precum on his fingertips, before he pinches your clit. 

“Toru,” you squirm, as he grins down at you, all too pleased. 

“Imagine if the elders could see you like this — spread out for me like a good little wife,” he’s leaning down to kiss your fluttering folds, leaning back for you to see the shiny pre that clings to his lips that his pink tongue darts out to clean off, “sweetest thing I’ve tasted,” 

“Please, Toru, fuck—“ and finally his finger is circling your hole, before sinking in knuckle deep — fuck, you were fucking tight — he could melt from your warmth, pulling him in like a siren to a drunken sailor, “oh my god,” 

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ princess,” and he earns a glare from you that fades into an open mouthed moan as he begins to pump his finger in and out, “so good for me,” and he’s adding another finger, the wet squelch of your cunt growing louder, as he reaches a hand down to graze against his erection if only for a little relief. 

He wishes he could memorize the way you looked right now — perfect little lips parted for him, his name and soft pants the only sounds you could manage to make, your back arching into his touch, and the way you moaned when his lips found their way around your clit. 

His tongue circles your clit at first before his lips suck at the hard pearl, fingers parting your dripping folds, finally finding that spot that had your walls giving that telltale spasm, “Toru, I’m close—g’nna cum—“ you whimper, his fingers pistoning in and out of your cunt as he sucks hard at your clit, and you cum, hard, around his fingers, drenching his face and finger alike, as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

You’re beautiful — lips parted and chest heaving, as you moan his name again, “good girl,” he’s murmuring, as your eyes flutter open, to watch him lick his lips and fingers clean, “might get addicted to how you taste, sweetheart,” 

And you’re boneless, but still you’re still reaching for him, pulling him into a languid kiss, his cock twitching as he shifts himself over you, hands pressed into the mattress, his clothed cock rubbing against your drenched folds. 

“Wanna make you feel good,” you mumble against his lips, and he’s pulling back an inch — but unknowingly, he’s given you a mile, as you flip him onto his back. 

You’re a vision — your perked up nipples visible through your bra, halfway slipping off your shoulders as it is, hair a lovely mess, and pretty lips kiss ruined. 

“My turn,” and your lips burn a trail down his jaw, along the curve of his neck and the cut of his collarbone. You take your time, if only to pay him back in full for all the teasing he did, “didn’t know you taste so sweet, Toru,” your tongue drags up his chest, “must be all the sugar you eat,” 

And your lips smile against his abs at the sharp gasp he fails to stifle, “I’ll have you know I’m very sweet—“ and your fingers graze over his clothed erection — his hips buck up into your touch, “I’m known for it,” he hisses, as a giggle escapes your lips. 

“Uh-huh, I’m sure almost everyone would care to disagree,” the tip of his cock strains against the fabric, the dark wet patch growing larger the more your thumb beared down on it, “but I wouldn’t be one of them,” and you’re dragging the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock, your eyes nearly hypnotized by the slight of it, thick beads of precum dripping from the slit, before your gaze finds his again, softening, “because I know how much you do for others — and how much you’ve lost because of it,” you kiss his inner thigh softly, nose brushing against the skin. 

“As long I don’t lose you,” he says softly, “I think I’ll be okay,” 

And your fingers find their way around the base of his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, before you lean down and flick your tongue against his leaking tip, “I’m not going anywhere, Toru.” 

Your tongue drags a thick stripe up his cock, before beginning to trace along one of his veins, your fingers slipping up to use his pre to rub up and down his length. Your thumb teases his slit, and a hiss leaves his lips, a smirk against his dick. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” his cheeks burn, dusted with pink surely — as he watches you lick the precum that dripped down your fingers onto your wrist, “knew that mouth would be s’fucking good—“ 

“Turns out you don’t shut up even in bed,” and that earns you a cheeky grin that parts into an ‘o’ as his dick sinks into your mouth. He swears he was closer to death than he was when Toji nearly killed him — not that he’d like to remember that man in this moment — but you’d surely be the death of him, and you would be — if he had to spend another second without you in his life. 

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes half shut, his white knuckled fingers gripping the sheets — you’re gorgeous as you swallow him whole — sucking and licking, nose brushing against his pubes as your eyes water, as you bob along his length from tip to base and back again. 

“S’good for me, so pretty, fuck—” he groans, when his tip brushes against your throat, his fingers finding your scalp to try and ease you off,  I’m s’close princess, g’nna cum—” But your hands only slide to his ass to hold yourself against him, as his dick twitches in your mouth, and your fingers drift to his sack while your tongue flicks along his slit and he’s done. He’s cumming down your throat, hot release painting your mouth.

He’s watching you with half lidded eyes pull away from him— a string of cum and spit strung between your lips and his dick, before beginning to drip from the corner of your mouth. And fuck, it’s enough to make him hard all over again. You lean over him, wiping the release from your lips, as you kiss up his body. 

“Now who’s good at everything?” and he huffs out a chuckle. 

“I stand corrected — actually, don’t think I’ll be standing for a while after that but—” and he’s finding your lips in a kiss, tasting himself you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, as your fingers find his erection again, stroking it, before he’s flipped you onto your back. He runs a hand through his snowy locks, a smile on his lips, “don’t think you’ll be doing much standing after this either,” 

“So full of yourself,” you roll your eyes. 

“That’s what you’re going to be full of in a second—” 

“Oh my god—” and your laugh dies on your lips as he starts to tease your entrance with the head of his cock, “Toru,” you whine, as he watches your needy cunt flutter around nothing as he drags his length up and down your dripping hole, watching your releases mix, “please—” 

“So polite,” he hums, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, “now how can I refuse that?” and he begins to sink his length into your cunt, warm walls nearly pulling his cock in deeper, as he groans your name, “s’perfect, s’good for me, princess, made for me,” and inch by inch, until he’s finally bottoming out. 

“Toru, ngh, s’big—” you gasp, lips parted in a silent moan, as you pull him even closer, face buried in the crook of his neck, but his fingers tugging your hair to show your face. 

“Let me see you,” he murmurs, as his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss as he continues to thrust into you — his hips meeting yours, the wet squelch and skin slapping echoing in his ears. A gasp parting your lips as you pull apart, your head thrown back in a moan as your walls flutter around him as his tip breaches that one spot inside you. 

“Haa, I’m close, Toru,” you groan, and he’s nodding, his fingers reaching between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” and you do — cumming hard, as he notches himself deep inside you, before spilling inside you, his hot release deep in your pussy. He’s moaning your name, as your bodies slow and his fingers cup your cheek gently, and his lips find yours. 

He slowly rolls off of you, your warmth leaving him for a moment, before he’s pulling you close again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Is this a dream?” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut, and a small chuckle leaves his lips, legs entangled. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, “If it is, I hope I never wake up, Princess.” 

Your body aches — that’s your first thought as you stir into consciousness. Fuck, why does you feel so sore? Your eyes try to flutter open, but the sunlight blinds you — a soft groan leaves your lips. You shift, as you stretch, your back aching and muscles tight, but then someone moves behind you, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

Your eyes shoot open, as your head slowly turns to find looking at Satoru. A gasp is caught in your lips. 

Fuck, it was real.  

You slowly turn to face him, his soft breaths leaving his pink lips — god he’s so gorgeous. His pretty white eyelashes resting against his skin, lips parted ever so slightly, and his snowy hair askew and mussed. Your fingers ghost over his cheek lightly — how many people have seen him asleep like this? How many had seen him with his guard down? You knew he didn’t sleep nearly enough, you were surprised he was still asleep — but, your cheeks burned, you both did spend half the night awake. 

But there were more pressing things to think about — what did this mean? You chew on your bottom lip, he had said he wanted you — but what did he want? Just last night? Or something more. 

“I can’t sleep with your thoughts grinding so much,” he mumbles, heat rushing to your cheeks, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, “why are you awake so early?” His nose brushes against your neck, his lips pressing softly against your pulse. 

“I just woke up,” you murmur, a small shiver running up your spine, as you relax into his touch, your fingers running through his soft locks, “did all my thinking wake you?” 

“Yes, and you’ll have to compensate me,” and you snort. 

“You’re rich, like old money rich,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your skin, heat climbing up your body. 

“Money isn’t what I want,” he nuzzles you, nose brushing against the skin of your neck, “wonder what other ways you can repay me,” 

You chuckle, humming at his touch — god even the simplest of touches has your logic up in ash, “I’m sure you can figure out some other methods of payment,” 

And his lips find yours again — it’s a lazy morning kiss, soft and slow, but not bereft of any of the passion from the night before. His fingers slide down your body, as he pulls you impossibly closer. 

“My preferred method of payment wouldn’t have us leaving this room until tomorrow morning,” his lips curl in a smirk, “but I’ll collect my charge tonight — how about I make us breakfast?” 

“You can make breakfast?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“I know how to scramble an egg,” he shrugs, and you snort only for him to pout, and you smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek, before your thumb runs down his lips. 

“How about we make breakfast together?” 

“Was that really your first time making tamagoyaki?” you raise an eyebrow, as you pick up a piece of the rolled omelet between your chopsticks.

“Promise,” and you bite it — it was perfect — the texture, the taste, the seasoning. And you stare at him, an eyebrow raised. 

“Either you’re lying or you really are good at everything,” you mutter, and he grins, as he takes a bite of his food — a sweeter tamagoyaki he had made for himself, far too smug for his own good. 

“I think I proved that last night, Princess,” and you nearly choke on your food. And you chew thoughtfully — you two hadn’t even breached what last night meant yet. You had simply been dancing around it, or at least you had. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up — or rather, you picked up another piece of tamagoyaki up, you didn’t know how to, “what’s going on in that head of yours?” 

And your eyes snap up, “What do you mean?” 

He tilts his head, “You’re not hard to read — you keep thinking about something,” and his lips curl, “last night?” Your hesitation gives you away — and he only smiles wider, “should I refresh your memory?” And your cheeks are burning, and he chuckles, “come on, sweetheart, let’s just talk,” 

You bite your lip — you needed to do this, you couldn’t run away from how you felt, not again  — your fingers fidgeting with your chopsticks, before you place them down on your bowl, “What did last night mean?” 

And his lips curl, but this smile he has is softer, “What do you think sweetheart? Do you think I’m really the—“ And his phone rings, and he picks up his phone, eyes flickering to the caller, and you wave him off, “you can take the call,”

He sighs, “One second,” he gets up to speak, and he hangs up a few minutes later, “text me a location,” 

“Who was that?” And he’s shaking his head, a sigh on his lips, his hand on the back of his neck. 

“The ever breathing and ever irritating geezers want me to meet them to speak about something involving the clan,” he meets your gaze, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes — a drop of water that disappears into the sea as quickly as it formed, “and it’s a good opportunity for me to discuss something I have been wanting to speak with them about,” 

“Something?” and his lips quirk in a small smile. 

“I’ll be back soon enough to explain, sweetheart,” he walks over to you, “will you wait here for me? Think I’ll be able to come back faster if I know you’re here waiting for me,” 

And you can’t help the small flutter your treacherous heart gives, “The great Satoru Gojo will rush for me?” 

“Oh, he would rush day and night if it meant he could come home to you,” and his fingers find your cheek, drawn like a magnet — why was it you could never look away from him? Even in a crowd, your eyes always found his gaze. 

And you’d go to him — like a moth to a flame, “I think I’d prefer just Satoru,” you lean into his touch, your hand over his, “I do owe him after all,” 

“You do,” he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before he’s pulling away, a smile on his lips, “consider that a deposit.” 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. 

Alone in Satoru’s place — you didn’t know what to do with yourself. He had left right after breakfast, and he told you where the TV was, books, and told you could order anything or use anything you needed. But, this place was so him — each place you went, there was just another reminder of him that seemed trail after you, but at the same time, without him, it was like a shell of a place — no soul present. 

And you supposed the soul wasn’t present. 

You ended up back in the bedroom, crawling back under the covers. Fuck, they even smelled of him — you squeezed your eyes shut.

You really didn’t know what you were doing — did you? 

You laid on your back. What were you supposed to make of what happened last night and this morning for that matter? Was this real now? A real relationship with Satoru — you turned over on your stomach, pulling the covers over your head — you could barely imagine it. 

And your phone goes off, as you reach for it blindly on the nightstand. But it wasn’t the white haired sorcerer you hoped it was — your eyebrows knit together — at least you didn’t think it was. A text from a number you don’t recognize — and a picture to top it off from the preview. 

You nearly deleted it — only to spot a familiar mop of white in the picture. 

Your blood runs cold at the sight. Satoru? He was at a restaurant with — a woman? You didn’t recognize her, but his hand held hers, picture taken mid laugh. Your cheeks burn — no, no — there had to be an explanation. 

A text now — Want to see what your boyfriend does in his spare time? Is he done using you now? 

There’s only one person who’d text like that. 

Naoya, how fuck did you even get this picture? You stare at the photo — have you fallen so far in your clan that you have the time to stalk Satoru now? 

He replied, it’s not my fault that they are dining in a Zenin owned business. 

Another picture — Satoru and her were hugging, his arm around her waist, far too close to be friendly. 

You don’t think — you call him. It rings and rings, but no answer — the cut to voicemail makes your heart sink. 

Another text — even if you don’t believe me, do you think this will be the last of your problems? When you’re Satoru Gojo, anyone close to you will have a target on their back — if only to use your blood to paint one on his head. 

You knew you couldn’t trust this. You knew there was an explanation. You knew Satoru wouldn’t do this to you. 

But even still, you wished you could tell your heart that. 

“What is this?” Satoru was led to a table at the restaurant the old geezers had chosen — but there were no wrinkly old cranks in sight. Instead, there was a woman. 

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” And he raises an eyebrow, hands sliding into his pockets. 

“The one and only, now I don’t suppose the old fools of the Gojo clan turned into a woman — so who are you?” She swirls the glass in her hand, before downing the liquid in one go. 

“Figures they had to lie to get you here — seems like we’ve been set up,” she gestures to the chair in front of her, “I’m Airi,” and he takes a reluctant seat, “I was told this was a meeting for us to meet for a potential engagement,” and he scoffs, he should have figured it was something like this, “but judging by the look on your face, you didn’t know that,” 

“I was expecting to meet 

I suppose we’re on the same page,” 

He tilts his head, “Really?” 

“Gojo, you may be a catch, but to me, you’re nothing more than a potential knife to my neck,” she places her glass down, leaning back in her chair, “and plus, I have someone I’m interested in,” and her eyes slide down, “and judging by the bite mark on your neck, you do too,” 

He pays it no mind, a laugh leaving his lips at the thought of you waiting for him at his apartment, “I do,” and he sighs, pushing his chair out, before getting to his feet. “and I have to get back to her,” 

She follows suit pushing out her own chair, rising, a waiter walking by, and she trips. It’s a reflex, he catches her by the wrist and by the waist, steadying her. 

“Sorry,” she pulls away immediately, looking back for the waiter, before biting her tongue, “fucking waiter tripped me,” the two of them glance around, but see no one, “I’ll have to talk to my grandfather’s advisors about this. No one trips the granddaughter of Naobito Zenin,” she mutters, and Satoru’s eyes snap to her. 

“You’re a Zenin?” And it clicks, the wedding, “who arranged this meeting?” 

She tilts her head, “My father, but he heard about this from my cousin, Naoya—“ 

He checks his phone — and he sees a missed call from you. 

Fuck. It was a set-up — in both ways. 

“I have to go,” and he can only hope you wouldn’t do the same to him when he came back. 

Satoru calls you, but you don’t pick up. You can’t bring yourself to stare back at the photo he had set as his contact photo — the picture Yuta had taken of him clutching at his phone with your picture on his screen. 

You needed to talk to him in person. 

And it’s not long before he’s back home — practically teleporting at your feet. 

You swear, stumbling and he grabs you, tugging you close, “Got you,” he smiles, tugging off his blindfold for you to see his eyes — the startling blue that you still couldn’t navigate without drowning in its depths, “does that mean I can keep you?” and you want to pull away, you want to run, but you can’t help but melt into his touch, your fingers gently clutching at the front of his shirt. 

“That depends on whether I’m the only person you’ve said that to,” and you look up at him, his brow furrowed, “and held like this,” 

“The meeting today, it was supposed to be with the elders — I was going to discuss our relationship again but—“ you show him the pictures on your phone, and his brow knit together, “how did you—“ and he doesn’t finish his sentence before he realizes, “it was a set-up,” 

“I know,” and relief washes over features for a moment, but your eyes can’t meet his, your lips a thin line. 

And he glances at the photo again, seeing the one where he’s holding Airi, “She tripped, sweetheart, trust me—“ his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the length of your cheek, “I don’t want to hold anyone but you,” 

“I know Naoya and the Gojo clan probably set this up,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, “but—” you pull away from him, every step away from him a fissure in the foundation of this bridge built, “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” 

And he’s blinking, “Why?” 

“I’m not good enough,” you’re shaking your head, stepping back as he steps forward, “I hurt you by leaving, and I was this close to doing it again—” 

“But you didn’t—” 

“And your clan doesn’t want us together, and I don’t know, I feel even if we’re together,” the words that leave your lips break your heart and his, we’ll only hurt each other in the end,” 

“Why do you always push me away when we get close?” 

“No I don’t—” 

“You don’t think the sorcerer that’s an expert at pushing others away — wouldn’t know if he’s getting pushed away?” 

“This isn’t working out,” you cut him off, as the slice cuts through thin air — but it’s not your head that goes rolling — it’s his heart, “we should stop — I think your clan has been convinced,”

He’s silent for a moment, before he replies, “well, I haven’t been convinced,” 

You scoff, his hands by his side, as his quiet footsteps approach you, “convinced of what?” 

“Convinced that,” he stops in front of you, “you don’t feel the same way I do,” Your breath catches, as his fingers find your cheek, “all these years, sweetheart, and you didn’t know?” 

“But,” you can’t process this, it doesn’t make sense, “but Suguru—“ 

“Was important to me yes,” he murmurs, “but it’s been years, and it doesn’t mean I can’t have deep feelings for someone else — especially when I’ve had them for over a decade,” 

“You—“ was this real? As he stood before you, in his living room low lights, sunlight streaming in from his windows, “what?” 

He laughs, “Didn’t know it was possible to render you speechless, sweetheart — guess there’s a first time for everything,” he steps over your missteps with the same ease he does everything, “I really do have to spell everything out for you, don’t I?” The back of his fingers ghost over your cheek, “I’m in love with you—“ 

“No,” you’re shaking your head, and his face falls, “Satoru, we can’t—“ 

“But—“ 

“Your clan doesn’t approve of me, they won’t stop trying to break us up, and I could put you in danger,” you murmur, “they could use me against you — just like Suguru did,” you couldn’t bear the thought of that, “and is that worth it? Worth it for something that may not be real?” You ask the question you’re afraid of asking him — of asking yourself — “was it ever real?” 

And he’s still trying to reach for you, despite it all — he knows it’s dangerous to be around him, he knows anyone close to him is in danger — and that’s why he was okay when you left. If only you’d be safe — but he knew that if he always played it safe, he would never be happy, “It’s real to me,” 

“It’s not to me,” you turn towards the door, “I’m sorry.” 

And this time he doesn’t stop you. 

It’s for the best. 

That’s what you tell yourself. The same thing you say when you’re leaving his place. The same thing you say the next morning you wake up with only a pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. The same thing when you accept a long mission overseas. 

It was for the best. 

Then why — then why did you think of him? Each and every day, every minute, every second. But it was for the best. He was safer without you, it was easier without you, it was better — better and yet each day seemed to drag when you couldn’t talk to him. And your notes were filled with unsent texts to him — and your mind was filled with nothing but memories. 

And you couldn’t touch memories nor could you talk to them. 

Several months later, you’re sitting in a plane, watching the animation of the plane fly back towards Tokyo. You had been checking in with Yaga several times a month, but you hadn’t heard a thing from Satoru. 

Or rather, Gojo. Not that you expected to — not after what you did. 

And soon enough, you’re arriving home — heading inside your home to find a bunch of your mail had fallen out of your mailbox, knocked out of the rickety box from the storm the night before. You pick up the drenched mail between two fingers that was stuck to the sides of your walls, as you fumble with your keys to open the door. Your suitcase and mail fall to the fall as you close the door behind you, sighing. 

Fuck. You were home. 

You dragged your suitcase inside, picking up the mail off the floor. You collapsed on your couch, tossing the wet envelopes onto the table — when a name catches your eye. 

Gojo? 

You pick up an envelope — the frilly envelope doing nothing to protect the contents inside — you barely can make out any of the text, except the faint inked kanji of his name. 

You gingerly open the envelope, peeling out the insides — and your heart drops. 

Is this an invitation? The faint text was blurred and smudged from the rain — the contents all but faded and you could only make out three things — ““marriage,” today’s date, and bits and pieces of what you thought was an address. 

Satoru was…getting married? 

It felt like logic had fled your mind and panic took its place — as you looked up the parts of the address that you were able to decipher. And you found it — it was a popular venue not far from here. 

You didn’t think — you grabbed your keys and drove. 

You couldn’t let him get married, no, no — you had made a mistake when you left. You thought he was better off, you thought it was for the best — but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be when your chest hurt like this — felt as if your heart was splitting in two with a sword stuck between your ribs. It couldn’t be because you pushed him away because you were scared — scared of getting hurt again, scared of hurting him, scared of being with the only person you ever had loved. 

Basically, you pulled up to the venue, you were an idiot. 

You hadn’t changed, you hadn’t showered off your who knows how long of a flight, and now you were on the steps of a wedding venue that Satoru was getting married at. You froze before the doors. 

You couldn’t do this. He didn’t deserve to have his day ruined by you — not when you had ruined enough. If he had found someone else to spend his life with — whether it was arranged or not, he deserved to be happy. 

Even if it wasn’t with you. 

So you step down — walking off a distance to watch when the couple emerged — which judging by how dark it was and how staff were already almost done setting up — would be any minute now. 

So you wait. 

And finally when the doors swing open, you steel yourself — knowing it would do nothing, nothing to shield you from the pain of seeing—and your eyes find the groom. 

That wasn’t Satoru. 

He certainly had the white hair, but he did not have his blue eyes — he had a lovely bride regardless, who looked at him the way you had always looked at Satoru. Was that the look you had hidden away for so many years? And why were you still hiding? 

And your eyes find Satoru almost instantly — as fast as his eyes find you seemingly, as your name escapes his lips — as he parts through the crowd to your side. He’s wearing the other suit he had tried on — the white suit that had been your second favorite — his white locks parted and combed to the side, but still impossibly unkempt as they always were. 

“You got my invitation?” you blink, tilting your head. 

“But you—what?” and his brow furrows. 

“Don’t tell me you lost your ability to read and speak while overseas, princess,” and a small chuckle escapes your lips as you shake your head, wringing your hands. 

“Satoru, the invitation was wet because of the rain, I thought—” your voice wavers, glancing away as your cheeks burn, “I thought you were getting married.” 

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling, “And you were about to burst in and object?” 

You roll your eyes, but even so you can’t meet his gaze,  “Satoru—” 

His smile only grows wider, “What were you going to say? A passionate speech about how you’re still—” And you’re tugging him close by the collar, and his breath catches, your name leaving his lips. 

“I’m in love with you, Satoru,” your voice is steady as you speak, your hand sliding to his cheek, “I always have been — I was just afraid to admit it, I didn’t want to hurt you — whether it was by my own hand or not,” and his brow furrows, but you continue, “but I’m not scared anymore — because it hurts more to be nothing than something with you—” 

And his lips find yours. It’s everything you want — because it's him, he’s everything you’d ever wanted, and everything you’d ever want. You want the way his arm slides around your waist to pull you closer, you want the way his hand cups your cheek, you want the way his lips smile against yours, and you’d want his past, present, and future. And you’d do anything to keep it. 

“Promise you’ll never leave like that again?” he murmurs, his arm tightening around your waist as he says the words, his forehead pressed against yours, “I already have abandonment issues,” and you chuckle, your fingers finding his cheek. 

“I promise,” you murmur, “I’m sorry I left — both times I left, and there won’t ever be a third,” 

And he smiles, “You proposing to me, sweetheart? I’m not one to rush into things, gotta take me out on a proper date first,” 

“How about tonight?” you find his lips again, the taste of sugar on his lips — undoubtedly from indulging in a slice or several of wedding cake. 

“So soon?” he hums,and his gaze softens, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “someone’s eager,” and your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his, as you would a million times more,

“Well, you don’t know until you try.” 

✧ a/n: ahhh another celebration fic done!! this one was lowkey a struggle towards the end so i hope this turned out okay. it's beyond me understanding if it did or not lmao. i hope you guys enjoy ahhh -- gotta probably put up a poll to decide the next celebration fic this weekend :) (it's only because i'm horribly indecisive).

✧ taglist: @yunjinabla, @weluvsza, @yamaguccitadashi, @gojobbg, @soulofoz, @hfdkhjghjkghfj, @forest-fruits-jam, @cerene-dipity, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @reaperxdeath, @octopishisahybridanimal, @hanlay, @whereflowerswenttodie, @tsukimefuku, @numbing3scapism, @arcswonderland, @kirashuu, @fushitoru, @spider-fan72, @jayathelostdragon, @sunflowmaryam, @satorusmochis, @catsgomurp, @simply-a-s1mp, @kentocalls, @weluvsza, @lucy-xv0202, @mazzd4, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz

fics ♡

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summary: Aki never thought he'd find himself falling for a subordinate, but stranger things happen when you're a devil hunter. At least being the boss has its perks.

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summary: You meant everything to him, and Aki promised to keep you safe, even if it meant dying for you.

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tags: 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus, tender sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, smoking, established relationship, lots and lots of i love you's, soft dom aki

summary: Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you, and there's nowhere he tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him.

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summary: Aki has found you insufferable from the moment you were paired up together. It's bad enough that they're forcing him to work with a damn devil, but you happen to be the most disobedient, irritating devil he's ever met. You seem to have quite the attitude, and brats like you ought to be put in their place.

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under the influence / hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 114.8k

tags: 18+, aki is a virgin, reader is a stripper, plot heavy, drinking & smoking, strangers to lovers, semi-public sex, dry humping, finger sucking, body worship, hand job, blow job, orgasm control, fingering, creampie, virginity loss / virgin kink, cumplay, overstimulation, reader is shorter than aki, reader has nipple piercings, reader has a bit of experience, both reader and aki are incredibly touch-starved

summary: When Aki gets dragged to the most popular strip club in Tokyo in hopes it'll help him "de-stress", against all odds, you help him do just that. In return, he finally cures your itch for something more.

drabbles (sfw) ♡

softcore / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

fluff, established relationship, aki being soft for the reader

indirect kiss / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

fluff, suggestive, aki shares his lollipop with you

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spoilers, angst, hurt no comfort, mild sexual content

kiss / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

fluff, just giving aki lots of kisses

devilish / hayakawa aki x fem!reader

halloween special, strip tease, kissing scene, slight exhibitionism, slight dubcon (both reader and aki are drunk), reader wears a feminine devil costume, suggestive content

embrace / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

fluff & angst, just lots of tender hugs with aki

pocky / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

fluff, playing the pocky game with aki

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choking, slightly suggestive, lots and lots of angst

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fluff, first kiss, lots of hand holding, going to the movies with aki

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fluff, smoking, make-out session, body worship (male receiving), kissing aki's scars

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fluff, aki kisses you the minute the clock strikes twelve

last act / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

angst, hurt no comfort, bad ending, blood, aki watches you die in his arms

drabbles (nsfw) ♡

rosemary / hayakawa aki x fem!reader

smut, handjob, overstimulation, edging, sub aki

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smut, angst, tender sex, established relationship, soft sex with aki after he almost died on a mission

ghost / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

18+, smut, sub aki, handjob, bondage, begging, choking, using the ghost devil power to pleasure aki

bloodthirst / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

18+, blood play, blood sucking, biting, dry humping, grinding, finger sucking, praise, reader is a devil hybrid, aki is a bit mean, power imbalance (aki is the reader's superior), reader refers to aki as "sir"

sense of control / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

18+, suggestive content, aki is the control devil, teasing, corruption, power imbalance, stalking, the office scene from episode 5 but with aki

equalizer / gun fiend!aki x reader

18+, reader is fem bodied, csm spoilers, gun play, fear play, blood play, monster fucking, mirror sex, dubcon, stomach bulge, aki has a metal dick

headcanons ♡

new message !! / CSM x reader

the texts they send you when you're away, includes: aki, denji, & yoshida

married life / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

married life with house-husband aki

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morning routine with boyfriend aki

family life / hayakawa aki x gn!reader

raising a family with your husband, aki

miscellaneous ♡

one / aki, who comes home from work really late and utterly exhausted

two / hayakawa aki drives you home when it rains

three / thinking about how pretty aki would look under you

four / the mattress shifts when aki turns, rolling over to wrap his arms around you

five / aki has never heard anyone tell him they love him

six / the lights in hokkaido seem to glow even brighter when you're here beside him

seven / aki usually wakes up before you

eight / there is an idea of normalcy aki always dreams of

nine / aki teaches you how to ice skate

ten / when aki dies, you find traces of him in your apartment

eleven / texts from boyfriend aki

twelve / aki hugs you tighter than anyone you think you've ever known

thirteen / on your worst days, aki offers to shower with you

i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition

you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.

megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer. 

he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.

closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.

the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.

satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this. 

megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like. 

you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.

still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.

megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.

but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.

you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.

satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.

your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway. 

“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words. 

“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”

it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children. 

“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”

(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).

“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence. 

satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.

he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”

it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.

“mhm.”

“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”

you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”

“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”

“he said that to be nice.”

“when has he ever been nice?”

you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home. 

it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.

satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.

tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.

the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.

“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”

satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.

“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”

a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.

“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”

he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.

“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.

he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”

“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”

“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”

it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.

“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”

satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.

he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students. 

you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”

he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”

his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.

you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.

neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried. 

yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”

it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta. 

you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.

satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.

it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.

a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.

“hello?”

“hey, mom?”

it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.

“yes, megumi?”

“um… are you home?”

you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.

“oh. okay. did you take–“

“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”

you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.

“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”

“thanks.”

he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.

“mom?”

“yeah?”

“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”

you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”

“he’s back tomorrow?”

“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”

“thanks.”

bonus:

satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.

he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.

satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack. 

he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”

the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.

megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said. 

his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.

satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky

Gojo first met you when you where four.

He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.

Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.

He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’

But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.

Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.

The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.

That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.

And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.

Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.

Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.

Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.

But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?

Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.

And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.

You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.

Were you treating him like everyone else after all?

“Gojo?”

Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”

“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.

“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”

“That’s just too bad—!”

From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.

Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.

Where as Shoko had a blast!

She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.

Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.

“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.

Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.

He looks away.

No, too cute.

He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”

Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.

He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.

Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.

But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.

Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’

How stupid!

Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.

He meets you again though.

12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.

But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.

You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.

His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”

“Say it again.”

“Huh…?”

“My name. Satoru…”

You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.

“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I’m with you…”

before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.

Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.

“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.

The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.

But you?

Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?

has this been done yet

How They Eat You Out! - MHA

Everyone is 18+/aged up — if that’s a problem, keep scrolling or block me.

Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki

———————————————————————

Bakugou Katsuki

• Katsuki truly enjoys eating your pussy. It’s just as much for his pleasure as it is for yours. Plus, Katsuki likes to play with his meal before he eats it.

• He definitely gets you worked up first by sharply smacking his fingers against your clit multiple times, forcing you to specifically tell him you want his mouth instead.

• Katsuki teases you with the filth that spills from his mouth “Can’t believe how fucking whiny you are, pretty girl just wants me to eat her pussy so badly, yeah? Beg me for it.” — telling you it’s pathetic, but in the next heartbeat he’s moaning like a whore at the first taste he can get.

• He’s absolutely the guy who presses your thighs so far back into your chest it makes your ass lift off the bed. His shoulders and biceps flex as he keeps you pinned in place, spread wide open so he can see you entirely.

• He runs his tongue from canine to canine, wasting no time before his warm tongue circles your clit in a maddeningly slow fashion. He keeps that up until you plead with him to go faster, promising you’ll never suck his cock again unless he picks up the pace.

• He has the audacity to laugh — but ultimately he bends to your whim. Wrapping his soft lips around your clit, making you see stars when he starts sucking in a slow but steady rhythm. He flicks his tongue up and down at the same time, just to add to the intensity.

• Katsuki can also be an asshole. Often, he has you writhing — toes curling and hips twitching, gripping handfuls of his fluffy hair. He gets you begging for his fingers too, needing them so badly — but no. He forces you to cum just from his tongue, poor pussy tightening around air, aching for him.

• Don’t worry, he more than makes it up to you, stretching you deliciously with his thick cock right after. Fucking you until your legs are numb.

————————————————————————

Kirishima Eijirou

• Eijirou honestly just can’t help himself. He’s enamored with your pussy, drunk on it. He loves eating you out whenever he gets the chance. The man gets rock hard doing it because your pleasure is his pleasure.

• He’s the kind of guy who loves getting on his knees for you. Grabbing your ankles and yanking on you till your ass is on the edge of the bed. He laughs and drapes your thighs over his broad shoulders, making sure your comfortable while you lay on your back.

• Eijirou grabs onto your hips, looking up at you like you hung the moon as he runs his tongue between your lips up to your clit on the first pass. He whines, lids fluttering closed, nails sinking into your skin at how soft and warm your pussy is.

• He licks your clit leisurely at first, like one would eat a popsicle. Eijirou savors the taste, letting his lips meet again and again over your clit. Swirling his tongue in between — as if he’s making out with your pussy.

• Eijirou gets so lost in it, after awhile you have to lace your fingers in his silky red hair and tug gently to get his attention. He opens his eyes in question, cheeks flushed pink as he teases your hole with the tip of his tongue.

• “I wanna cum Ei, please,” you plead sweetly, rolling your hips up to meet his mouth. “Oh! Yes, please cum for me baby girl, want me to use my fingers to help you sweetheart?” Eijirou coos, tone teasing and warm. He rubs your clit with his thumb and nips the soft flesh of your inner thigh while he waits.

• You nod yes and Eijirou hums happily, slipping his middle two fingers into your ridiculously slick pussy with ease. He instantly starts licking over your clit again and thrusting his fingers, curling into your sweet spot perfectly.

• Your thighs tghten around his head, back arching when it takes you no time at all to cum. Gasping his name, tugging at his hair again — and he moans when your pussy doesn’t want to let go of his fingers as he works you through your orgasm.

• Once he lets you go, you find his hand wrapped loosely around his cock, covered in his sticky release. He grins sheepishly, admitting “I couldn’t help it baby, you taste too good.”

• No matter, he’s still hard. Eijirou makes love to you until you cry from overstimulation. Wiping your tears with his thumbs and asking you to give him one more orgasm.

————————————————————————

Todoroki Shouto

• At first, Shouto wasn’t quite sure how to eat pussy. Sure — he could eat pussy, but not well. After your more than willing participation in helping him practice, he eats pussy like a champ now.

• He absolutely loves going down on you. Often he gets you singing his name, toes curling so tight they cramp, squirting all over his face and fingers.

• Shouto starts out slow, spreading you out gently on the bed. Biting kisses into your neck, sucking on your nipples. Letting his thumb rub circles into your clit at the just the right pressure.

• He lays on his belly, placing soft kisses everywhere but your pussy. Sinking his teeth into the sensitive crease of your thigh. Barely ghosting his tongue over your clit.

• Shouto gets a thrill out of the anticipation. He leaves hickies on your inner thighs and pushes two fingers in your pussy, just letting them rest there until you’re begging him for more.

• “Sho please stop teasing,” you whine. Those slender fingers start to move and curl when he responds. “Sorry princess, how about I make you squirt? Will that make up for it?” he purrs, voice low and playful.

• You moan your agreement, gripping the sheets. When Shouto finally, blessedly lets his warm tongue run over your clit, your back arches so hard it almost snaps. You breathe out his name and groans loudly. “Good girl, say my name again,” he demands, smacking the side of your hip harshly.

• You cry out and Shouto takes his fingers from your warmth. He hushes you, sliding a slick finger into your ass up to the last knuckle. Wanting to keep you completely stuffed, the fingers from his free hand find their place in your pussy.

• You pull his soft hair so hard you think it’ll come out in fistfuls. Sobbing his name as he eagerly sucks your clit in between his lips. You start to cum, entire body taught and Shouto happily finger fucks you through it.

• Even when you shove at his forehead he doesn’t stop, bullying your sweet spot till you flutter around him again. He frees himself from your thight holes, using his thumb to rub your clit harshly as you squirt, making a mess of his face.

• It makes him moan brokenly and then he’s desperately crawling between your legs, begging to put his thick cock inside. You agree and he fills your pussy over and over — sweet and slow until you both cum again.

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.

You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.

"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.

You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.

"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.

"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.

"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.

"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.

You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"

Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.

You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.

“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 

Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”

“Huh.”

“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.

“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.

What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          

“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.

“Yes, I am.”

You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.

“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”

Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.

“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.

He smirks. “I’m strategic.”

You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.

You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.

He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.

You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”

He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.

“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”

“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”

His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”

“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.

“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”

His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.

“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.

“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.

Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.

“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…

“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.

“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”

You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.

“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.

“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.

“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”

Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”

“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.

“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.

“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.

“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.

“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??

Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.

You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.

“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”

“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”

You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.

“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.

You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.

“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.

“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.

“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.

“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”

“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.

“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”

Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”

“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.

His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.

“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.

“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.

“Really?” He whispers.

“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.

You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.

Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.

You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.

You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.

“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.

“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.

After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.

“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.

He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.

“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.

He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.

“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.

He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –

A knock on the door causes you both to still.

“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”

“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”

The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.

“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”

“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.

You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.

“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.

Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”

You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.

“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.

“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.

“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.

“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”

“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.

Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.

Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.

Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.

“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”

“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.

As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.

Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.

You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.

“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.

“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.

“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 

“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.

“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.

“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”

Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.

“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”

You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.

“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”

You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.

gojo was talking about his day while you chopped stuff for dinner and smacking his hand whenever he tried to taste something, he said he would help you cook but as a good gold retriever he just stand by you watching and babbling.

megumi entered the kitchen, right after he left the shower, hair wet and sticking to his forehead.

the sight made your heart give one strong beat and stop.

that was man that almost took your life and satoru’s all those years ago. the man who shot a little girl. the man who made your best friend abandon everything you knew.

“gross” megumi murmurs and leaves the kitchen.

you didn’t realize what happened until he spoke. satoru was behind you, arms strongly tightened around your figure.

from megumi’s point of view it seemed he was hugging you.

what he couldn’t see was satoru’s tight grip on your hand that held the knife you were using for food with a new, darker, intention.

“easy” he whispered, helping you put the weapon down. when you came back to your senses you gasped and dropped the knife that fell loudly on the sink.

“fuck— satoru, i don’t know what came over me” you hugged yourself, feeling the scar on your chest throb.

your husband softened his grip, now properly hugging you, “do you think he noticed?” you could feel him slightly shaking.

“no, i covered you” you turned to hug him back, kissing the small scar on his forehead, “someday we’re gonna have to—“

“i know” you cut before he could say the inevitable, the scene that haunts you in your dreams, “just not now. we are happy now” his eyes were dark, unlike the crystal blue you always saw.

you kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. you knew the truth weighted on satoru’s shoulder even more than yours.

“yeah… we’re happy… now” he mumbled on your neck, repeating what you said like a mantra.

I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU

✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+

tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

You’re not sure how it all started.

(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.) 

You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown. 

(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.

You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)

It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.

You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.

“Hello?” 

(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon. 

He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)

“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.

You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat. 

It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times. 

You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.

The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now. 

(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)

He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.

Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”

“I want a kiss,” you told him again.

It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.

(That. That—)

You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."

(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)

You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.

There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.

You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air. 

“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”

That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.

You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.

He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.

“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.

That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.

A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.

(That’s how you think it started.)

~~~~~

Everything’s fine.

Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.

Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble. 

Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.

That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.

“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”

(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.

And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.

Normal.)

Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips. 

“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.

Gojo already has acknowledged this, too. 

“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants. 

“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.

“Mhm.” 

Oh. 

You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”

Your breath hitches because, yes, you would. 

That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.

It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.

Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.

It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday. 

It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either. 

Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar. 

He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan. 

“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.

Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs. 

He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it. 

Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—

The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair. 

His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—

“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”

All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s. 

“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”

Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.

(Because, of course, she knows.

And perhaps she’s not the only one.)

~~~~~

The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work. 

(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)

You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.

A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant. 

Hinata.

A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.

Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.

After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.

“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”

"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.

"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."

"It’s your assistant."

He frowns. “My assistant…?”

“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”

He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.

“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”

“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.” 

“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.

He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.

“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”

“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.

“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."

It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.

Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.

“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”

It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.

“Then…stay.”

…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.

Being your boss’ little slut. Your only job being to sit pretty in your own office and ‘help’ with paper work. You’re on the top floor of the building with him, getting the most luxurious working conditions cause he just adores you so much.

You smile widely when calls you in his office. Your boss lifting you off the floor to wrap your legs around his waist with your arms around his neck. Pressed against his office wall as his lips met yours hungrily.

“Been aching for this sweet pussy all fucking day. Gonna be a good girl and take what i give you, right baby?” He breathes, lifting you further until your legs drape over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his hair when his mouth latches onto your wet folds.

He eats you out like a starved man, kissing and licking your cunt before sucking harshly on your clit. His thick fingers curling into with a groan of his own. You tug at his strands, lips parted with your head against the wall in a string of soft cries. Your boss lapping at your wetness until his chin glistened from your orgasm.

When he’s done, he bends you over his large glass desk. Heels dragging along the floor as he used his knee to spread your legs. Thick cock finding its way buried deep inside you.

He fucks you hard and rough, lewd sounds of skin slapping filling the room as you gripped onto the edge of the desk. Your moans are loud and whiny, his cock throbbing when a hand reaches around your delicate neck. Pulling you upwards so that your back rested flush on his chest, his thumb pressing past your lips while his other hand played with your spilled tits.

“My favorite fucking girl. Gonna move you in here. okay? That way i can fuck you whenever i want.”

Hi! I really really love your kaleidoscope series! Kiku and sai are just SO SO CUTEEEE!! Theyre making me have a baby fever

I just really love seeing Satoru protective of his daughter! Cant imagine what will happen if someone from sai's class or some boy decides to get close to her! Or what will happen when sai's first heartbreak!

Thank you so much sweetheart! And yes I'm also being affected by the baby fever. This is not proofread coz at this point I'm basically just writing what my fingers tap on 😭 will proofread later

Satoru believes he's a reasonable father. So reasonable it's natural he will wreck a riot when he finds out a boy... A BOY! is trying to make a move on his princess.

"This is not a kindergarten. I swear, my daughter is still a baby! Last night she still asked me to read her a bedtime story." He rambled on and on.

You could tell he is genuinely freaking out with how he's pacing around so much you're starting to get dizzy.

"She's just eight Satoru. What do eight years old do? Puppy loves can't be overruled, she's still so young." You tried to assure him but Satoru's face only grew more hopeless, running to your knees.

"What if she gets married early? What am I gonna do? Honey! Do something! I can't just give away my daughter to some wolf like boy who will snatch her away from me after I protected her since she was just 'this small'..." Satoru made a size of a baby from his hand.

You've had enough. Bringing him to face you and flicking his forehead. Someone needs to wake up.

"Calm. Down." There's firmness in your voice prompting Satoru to stop and breathe.

You sighed and patted his head.

"Saika is a reasonable girl, you've taught her more how to kick a boy's groin than to entertain one, okay? Besides she's a logical girl, and all her decision will teach her a lesson she needs to learn, so calm down and watch over her."

Satoru looks at you and finally nods. You sound calm, making him calm too. But still it makes him sad that his daughter has a crush already. He doesn't think he can let her have a boyfriend even in 18.

The next day...

The doorbell rang and Satoru went to get it since you're still eating breakfast. When he opened the door, he wasn't expecting a lost puppy...

"Stop looking at him like a stray Papa." Kouki remarked blankly. "For the record, he is Cat's classmate."

Classmate, huh?

"Oh?" Satoru finally understood from his firstborn's tone. "Really now? Got some bravery in you young man eh?"

The boy, quite tall for an eight-year-old looked at Satoru.

"Good morning Sir, I'm Chiba Masaki. Gojo Saika-san is my classmate and I really like her." The boy looked at Satoru without any hesitance in his eyes.

A vein popped in Satoru's temples.

"You got guts young man." This boy wants a fight or somethin'? Satoru was close to growling. Kouki leered at the two of them, casually leaning on the couch backrest.

"I really like her smile, she's very kind and yet brave enough to never back down. I'm here to tell you, I will take care of her and keep her safe."

Do eight-year-old do this shit? Satoru remembers plucking the flowers in his mom's vase and chasing around cats as an eight years old. Not coming on the front door of his crush and acting like an old man being sizzled under a father's gaze. What's wrong with these kids?

"Do you have a job?" Satoru crossed his arms.

"I will find one!" Masaki answered immediately.

"Do you see this house?" Satoru motioned to the huge house he built for you. "You can come back and ask my permission to court my daughter if you have a house bigger than this. If you have a stable job that can provide her anything she wants. If you have what it takes to make her happy. Until then you're not allowed to touch her, court her, or even think of making her your girlfriend. I only give my daughter the best of the best. This is a man-to-man thing. Do you understand?" Satoru's voice thundered with finality.

The boy squared up and opened his mouth to say something but you appeared, putting a finger over his lips.

"I suggest you don't make that promise yet, young man." You crouched and smiled to the surprised boy. "You're so young... And if you make that promise out of urgency without thinking of it more thoroughly you might break your word. The second you break your promise, your words cannot be trusted anymore."

You smiled and patted his head.

"Don't hurt our Saika alright? If you hurt her, you'll hurt us too." You made a sad face.

"I won't hurt her Ma'am. This much I can promise you."

Masaki's determined face somehow reminds you of someone who chased after you left him and he had to get through your father's anger just to talk to you again.

They're still so young... Time will tell.

"Mama? Papa? What are you doing?" Saika came down the stairs with her backpack ready to go. "Oh, Saki-chan. I told you Kiku-nii can walk me to school."

Masaki look at Saika ang visibly soften. "We talked for a bit. It's an important thing."

"Important thing?" Saika turned to her brother for an explanation.

Kouki shrugged and grab his bag too.

Saika kissed you and Satoru goodbye. But Satoru was still concerned while you held on his arms. Until Kouki pat his Papa's shoulder.

"I got it Pa, don't worry too much." Kouki grinned and walked behind the two eight-years-old, keeping an eye on them.

"He reminds me of someone." You smiled and then back to the kitchen.

"Oh gosh..." Satoru ran his hand over his face realizing who you meant, and close the door. "No, I'm just dreaming... Honey please, that squirt is nothing like me!"

You laughed from the kitchen and hugged him to calm his heart down.

—Grey,

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby  @aeanya  @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you

『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting

Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.

His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.

Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.

He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.

Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.

Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.

The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.

“Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.

Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.

He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.

He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.

Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.

Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.

And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.

He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.

“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.

He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.

You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.

You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.

He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.

Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.

trouble comes twice ࿐ gojo satoru x female reader. satoru falls ill with a case of baby fever after seeing his baby girl dressed up as him.

content . ᕀ gojo and reader are parents [ referred to as ‘dada’ & ‘mama’ ], brief mention of pregnancy, emotional!gojo, sweet fluff with slightly suggestive dialogue at the end. 

“dada- dada, look at me!” 

your daughter screeches out, announcing her arrival with the bright and melodic babble of a mischievous child. she stands on her tippy toes, her fingers covering your own as she helps you twist the knob and open the door to satoru’s office. 

even now, he forgets that he’s a father, until he is reminded in the most wonderful way. sometimes, your five-year-old will beg to wake satoru up two hours before he has to go to work just so they can play with her dolls together, or she’ll step all over his toes as she squeezes in between him and the kitchen counter while the three of you cook dinner together or like right now, crashing towards him with all the subtlety of a carpet bomb of cursed energy— so eager to show off her costume that her feet accidentally stumble over your heels. 

dressed up as a miniature version of him. 

his lips curve into an instant grin, pressing the button on the screen of the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder to end his current call.  the sound of the higher up scolding him cutting off sharp and abrupt makes his grin widen. they can wait, but his baby girl cannot. twisting in his chair, he catches his daughter just as she collides against him with an audible oof. 

“did we interrupt an important call?” you greet him, a soft smile on your glossy lips as you walk around the large desk satoru is seated at. you pat a hand to his knee before leaning against the edge of his desk. “sorry, i tried to get her to wait.” 

“you kiddin’? nothing’s more important than my two best girls,” he says, tugging at the bottom edge of his blindfold to drag it down, his expression playful as he watches his daughter copy him. she hurriedly removes her own blindfold, a tiny scrap of cloth covering her summer blue eyes. 

“so who are you?” he teases her, twitching one milky brow at the bouncing toddler in front of him. “where’s princess? did a curse finally eat my snotty kid?”  

“i’m the strongest!” your daughter chirps excitedly, crisscrossing two baby fingers to mimic his domain summon. 

your bitty sprout is so precious with her tiny white curls, tied into two space buns and her black blindfold that she scratches at with the back of her fist. not to mention, the bottom half of her cherub face is covered by the high collar of the jacket she’s wearing, identical to gojo’s standard uniform and the result of you staying up all night at your sewing machine, shredding one of his spares into a costume for your daughter. 

looking at her like this, she really is a tinier, stickier version of gojo satoru. 

“the strongest, huh? look at that, you’re already my favorite child. megumi would never offer to take my place so i can retire early.” 

“satoru…” you start, shaking your head in half-hearted exasperation. “when she picks up your sass and uses it against you, i’ll be the first to say “i told you so.’” 

“worried you’ll be outnumbered, mama?” he shoots the words at you, flashing a smile that amusement drizzles from like sweet icing. 

you roll your eyes, and then he turns back to his daughter, reaching down to effortlessly gather her against his broad chest before he pulls gently at one of her fat cheeks, nuzzling her close. “how come you chose to dress up as me, jellybean? it’s not october.” 

“i’m going to a costume party for keigo and haru,” she explains excitedly, her little face brightening at the mention of suguru’s sons. “but mama couldn’t find scarlet witch costume.” 

“oh, ouch,” he whines dramatically, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to be wounded by her open honesty. “wound me some more.” 

“dada, you’re so dramatic,” she giggles at him, and though satoru’s genetics may have overpowered your own for the most part, the roll of her eyes is a trait she learned directly from you. 

“second place is a serious injury, little princess. i should go see if shoko’s awake to make sure i’m not dying-”

“i wanted to dress up as dada because he’s a hero, like avengers,” she cuts him off, so perceptive and honest. your daughter latches on to the collar of his jacket so she can pull his head closer and plant him a slobbery mwah! on his cheek, and if you see gojo’s eyes mist over, glassy ocean blue from tears, you don’t comment on it. 

“down, please,” she requests, grunting and wriggling until he sets her down on the floor with a wobbly chuckle. unaware that her father’s expression has glazed over, his mind spiraling from her words. 

gojo satoru doesn’t even shed tears at funerals, but right now? his eyes flicker to you desperately, and you soften like clouds, nodding silently. 

“sweet pea, the party starts at 3:30 so you have plenty of time to show megumi-nii your costume, why don’t you?” you suggest, giving your boyfriend a moment to discreetly wipe the wet away from his cheeks. sure, he’s seen his students grow into formidable sorcerers that he is infinitely proud of and sure, he may have gotten choked up once or twice while snapping memories of megumi’s important milestones— like his middle school graduation, and that one time he didn’t insult gojo loudly when he picked him up from class in front of his peers— but this…? this overwhelms him, the kind of love he feels right now.

this love… this love is so different, something he’s never experienced before. it’s unlike quick flings brought home from bars, trying to lift the weight off his shoulders for a couple of hours with a pretty face. it’s unlike the near religious idolization from his clan, smothering him with their expectations and obsessive admiration. it’s whole and pure— it’s his family, his true one. it’s you and your baby girl driving away his loneliness like sunlight chases down bad dreams. 

“okay, mama!” she agrees, nodding.

“but go directly to his room. remember where it is?” 

“i remember!” 

“i’ll be right behind you after i talk to your da. don’t annoy megumi-nii too much, ‘kay?” you turn around, opening the door to let your daughter out of satoru’s office and into the long corridor where you watch as she waddles in the direction to megumi’s room. when you can no longer see her, you step back into the office and shut the door before turning to look at your boyfriend. “she’s so excited to go to this party. it’s supposed to be superhero-themed and she wanted to dress up as wanda maximoff, but- are you still crying?” 

satoru barely remembers moving so quick, reaching out to hook one of his strong arms around your waist to pull you into his lap sideways.. he barely remembers cupping your cheeks into his big palms as if you’re his most precious thing, a goddess that carved out a piece of heaven for him to hold here on earth. your body is rounded and soft, a comfort to him when his emotions get the best of him. his eyes, pale blue like the northern glaciers, flicker over your face— to your expression that is more than concerned, and your lips that are parting to ask if he’s okay, and then, he’s kissing you—

you gasp, but your initial surprise melts into love, like a piece of chocolate held between your fingertips for too long, because you know what came over him now. you feel it too sometimes, when you see him bonding with your baby girl. it’s sweet, the way he spells words into those kisses— gratitude, affection, and something a little more primal that you can’t place. 

god, he knows you can feel his tears, saltine as they slip traitorously down his cheeks to pool in between the cracks of your joined lips.

when he pulls away a little, you wipe his wet cheeks with your thumbs, your heart tender from the aches until he ruins the moment by whispering four words against your lips that make your big doe eyes widen to full moons. 

“i want another one.” 

huh.

“are you crazy?” you whisper-shout, laying a fist against his chest to keep him from moving closer and indulging him in another kiss. before jellybean was born, having a child together had not been in either of your wishlists for the future, but two pale pink lines gleaming on your bathroom counter five years ago had changed everything and now, you couldn’t imagine life without her. 

but another one? 

“don’t tell me you’re getting baby fever just because she dressed up as you.” 

satoru doesn’t know what has come over him. he never wanted to have children of his own anyway. it was one of those stubborn pacts he made with himself when he was young and flippant. but seeing his baby girl dressed up as him— calling him a hero above all of his faults and failures— is making him want an entire litter with you, a dream team.

“she said i was a hero. i need to hear that from at least one more little me.” 

“we’re not having another baby just to feed your ego, satoru,” you shake your head. “i mean it so stop giving me that look!” 

“what look?”

“that look, the one that tells me you want to bend me over your desk right now,” you huff, “i have a party to go to.” 

“but she was so cute in her little costume, wasn’t she? we make cute kids, i told you that the first time you let me-” 

“i should have left you at dinner that night.” 

“but you didn’t,” he says, grinning toothily, his long, pale fingers sneaking under the hem of your shirt to tease at soft skin underneath. he’s got you already, and he knows it. “just like you ain’t gonna leave this office without another baby in you.”

꒰ LOLLYNOTE ꒱: waaaah, i hope you enjoyed this lil piece ! this was a bit selfshippy and totally self indulgent but i hope you love it anyways <3 thank you to @sleepygetou for letting me use her darling babie ocs keigo & haru too 🥹

FAMILY FORMATION PART FIVE

series masterlist

Summary: before her first date, Tsumiki asks how you and Satoru got together - but, she’ll have to hear the ahem, abridged PG-13 version of the story.

CW: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, also fluff, also a tiny bit of angst but like happy end, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, all consensual, oral sex, fingers, female reader, tiny bit of degradation kink, but just like so fluffy, jjk level violence and some body horror.

MDNI 18+ ONLY

A/N: I’m proud of this, I wanted to get some more young Y/N x Gojo in and thought this would be the cutest way to do it. This is the first time I’ve published smut so pls be nice to me. Reader panicking once she gets to the not so nsfw part of the story and being like WE SAID I LOVE YOU AND HELD HANDS AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END is me no joke

Recommended Listening:

Naruto Bluebird Freestyle - Khantrast (the fight)

Come As You Are - Nirvana (the argument)

The Hills - The Weeknd (the smutty goodness)

“Mama, how did you and Dad get together?”

You were curling Tsumiki’s hair as she got ready for her first date, she was going to meet a boy from her biology class to have a milkshake and you could practically feel the nerves bouncing off her like fleas.

“Well, you’re 15, so I suppose I can tell you the story.”

FLASHBACK

2005

You, Shoko, Geto and Gojo, Shoko being 19 and the rest of you 18, had been sent on a group mission where a Grade One curse had been lurking around an abandoned hospital and devouring the bodies of anyone who came close.

“Jesus this place is fucking spooky.” You mutter under your breath as you all begin to make your way through the winding maze of corridors.

“Aw, you scared, Y/L/N?” Satoru asks with a mock pout and Bambi eyes, arrogant as ever.

“If you’re honestly gonna tell me that this place doesn’t give you the heeby jeebies then you’re even more insane than I originally expected, Gojo.” You roll your eyes as a shiver works its way down your rear.

Geto and Shoko had taken the opposite side of the building to search, leaving you and Satoru with a wink in your direction as you silently screamed at them to not leave you alone with him.

To Geto and Shoko, it had been clear since halfway through the first year that you and Gojo were completely head over heels in love with each other. You were the only person, since day one, who seemed to see through his external shell of arrogance and self-importance, you never paid any mind to his antics or teasing. You matched his energy and thirst for adventure with your own naturally chaotic nature but you also were soothing enough to take the edge off his more obnoxious traits. He seemed to visibly relax in your presence, knowing he could be more himself and that you would always have his back, you knew you’d never match his level of power or cursed energy but he was fully aware and acknowledged what a talented and naturally gifted sorcerer you were. You two were usually found by each other's side, Satoru chattering on with his head on your lap as you carded one hand through his hair and held your book in one hand, small murmurs of agreement coming out of your mouth as he rambled on, he knew you weren’t paying any attention to him and immersed in your book but he liked how he felt around you.

The look on Satoru’s face the last time you had been asked on a date by a guy you all met from Kyoto had been what gave his feelings for you away to Geto, the fury in his eyes and the twitch in his jaw as the boy asked you for coffee turned into a smirk when you politely declined.

Shoko had discovered your feelings when before you were sent on a mission just you and him, you had asked her to curl the back of your hair and had stuttered out a ridiculous reason as to why you wanted to look nice when you were going to exorcise a curse.

Back in the current day, you turned to Satoru who had stopped in the middle of the hall,

“Third door on the right, it’s in there.” He said, smiling and walking toward it. You almost forgot that he could just see the curse, and nearly asked how he could pinpoint it so specifically.

He smiled at you and began walking toward the room, the aura of confidence and borderline menace that begins to come from Satoru is something you probably shouldn’t find as stupidly sexy as you do.

Focusing your mind and shaking your thirsty thoughts from your head, you follow him down the hall.

Outside the room the curse resides, Gojo blasts open the door and so - the fight begins. The room is almost empty bar an old, rusting operating table and the room must be around -5 degrees, despite it being a beautiful spring day.

The curse itself is vaguely humanoid, standing around 9ft tall, except for the fact that its entire torso is cut wide open, organs hanging by veins and sinew dangling around it. The stench of rot is mixed with the acidic smell which you vaguely recognise as a disinfectant. The curse is screaming and screaming as if it’s in pain and begins to lash out at you and Satoru. It’s powerful, definitely a first grade, the pain and sorrow from the hospital manifesting itself as this horrific monstrosity in front of you.

Satoru and yourself begin to try to fight it, realising soon enough that it can separate itself into several different mangled bodies and back to back, you start to take them down one by one.

Satoru is taking one down on his left when he sees you on other side of the room jumps and wraps your thighs around the head of the corpse while whipping both of your small, silver cursed daggers from their holsters on each of their thighs as you spin and stab them into the curse head and it crumbles to nothingness and you swiftly move onto the next one. He thinks at that moment, you might be the sexiest woman he’s ever seen. Distracted for a moment, and have used quite a bit of energy from his six eyes to find the curse in the huge derelict building and fending off attacks from all directions, he didn’t notice the amalgamation of 2 curses behind him, lunging for his neck.

However, you did.

As the curse flung itself, claws bared toward Gojo, you swung yourself in between them, barely managing to use both daggers to slice through its head. Your clean execution came at the price of getting the top of your arm caught in the sharp talons of the curse.

Satoru turned to find the curse dead at his feet, having just taken 5 down himself, and you clutched your arm and shoulder with your hand slowly turning crimson.

At that exact moment Shoko and Geto burst into the room, being drawn by the sound, but there was nothing left for them to do. Shoko ran to you and began working on your arm, while Geto stared at a seething Satoru who quickly stormed out of the room. Analysing the room and residuals geto quickly pieced together what had happened. He followed Satoru, with you and Shoko following a bit behind.

“Seems like you two had it handled then. Nice easy day for Shoko and I.” Suguru tests the waters with Satoru, however, he can tell exactly what he’s going to say.

“Don’t fucking start. Y/N was reckless and arrogant, trying to play like she’s better than me and save my ass. I’m the strongest there is, I had it handled. I don’t need to be saved like some fucking princess.” The anger in Satoru’s voice made Suguru smirk. He knew that wasn’t why he was mad but Gojo being the slightly idiotic boy he was couldn’t piece together the reasons for his anger being he didn’t want you to get hurt. Geto had done the same thing on a few occasions and he’d never had this reaction.

“Oh yeah man, cos that’s why your upset with her. It’s not because you love her and can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt for you.” He claps him on the back as Satoru begins he retorts he whips out his phone to call their driver.

The car ride home was strange as Satoru was mostly silent, you knew he was mad someone DARED to protect the strongest sorcerer. ‘I’ll speak to him when we get back to the dorms.’

Shoko and Geto had been texting about both you and Satoru’s oblivious nature, knowing you took a risky move to protect the boy you loved, and he was mad you nearly got hurt trying to keep him safe.

As the car pulled up to the gates, Satoru immediately jumps out and strides to his dorm. Leaving you rolling your eyes, but hating having him be mad at you.

Shoko drags you down to the infirmary to finish sorting your arm, and then after giving you the all clear and teasing you about your obvious infatuation with the white-haired classmate sends you on your way back to your dorm to rest.

You, of course, didn’t listen and went straight to Gojo’s dorm instead.

You knock, and the door swings open.

“Here to gloat you rescued Satoru Gojo?” He says, stoney-faced, leaning against the doorframe.

You roll your eyes.

“Don’t start Satoru. You were in danger and I helped - that’s all it was.”

“You didn’t need to help, I had it handled.”

“Maybe you did, but that thing was coming straight for you.”

By now you’ve pushed yourself into his room and he’s closed the door.

“What you did was so stupid, and so reckless, I don’t need your help - I’m the strongest there is, you don’t have to babysit me.” He scoffs at you, arms across his chest.

“Satoru, you had your technique on for hours at that point, I didn’t know if you saw it coming behind you.” Your voice was beginning to raise at this point, you were tired and he was being unreasonable, you knew you’d hurt his ego but didn’t think his reaction would be this bad.

“So you thought the best thing to do was just fucking jump in front of a grade one curse mid attack? Why? So you could take the kill and say you’re better than me? That I’d have died if you weren’t there. I have infinity!”

“Satoru infinity isn’t perfect yet! We both know that, I’m the one who trains with you and like I said before, you had been using your technique for hours, I didn’t know how much gas you had left in the tank!” You were shouting at each other by now.

He hated this, he hated how angry he was with you. He tried to say it was ego, but it wasn’t.

Suguru had been right.

He panicked that you were in danger because of him. He hated that you put your own life at risk because you wanted to protect him. He was the one who was meant to protect everyone, he was the one to keep everyone safe - it was literally what he was born for. But you, with your pretty smile and glowing heart and endless loyalty and infallible stubbornness just had to weasel your way into his life, and had to be there.

He loved you.

He was terrified.

And he wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at being scared.

He hadn’t ever had to be.

“Satoru I was there behind you, that curse was going straight for you and you had more in front of you! Of course, I was going to protect you!” You were so angry at him for being so immature, you knew what you had done was potentially reckless but the fear and sheer instinct kicked in - you had to keep him safe. Shoko was right. You loved him and you had been raised to protect the ones you love. But he didn’t know that, he didn’t know you would do anything to keep him from harm's way.

“So you decide self sacrifice was the best way to approach the situation?!” He retorted.

“No, I saw that my teammate and friend were in danger and I acted!”

“Acted like an idiot!”

“Maybe, but we’re both here and fine!”

“Barely! What was your plan huh? Step in, take the Glory, say you protected the 6 eyes? Why does it?”

“What do you mean, why? Do you honestly think I protected you for some sort of ridiculous selfish reason?!”

“Well, I didn’t need your help! I don’t need your protection!”

“Jesus Satoru, you’re allowed to rely on people! You don’t have to be alone, I’m your teammate, we help each other!”

“I don’t need your help and protection! I’m not weak, I’m the strongest alive!”

“I didn’t do it because your weak, dammit!”

“Well, why did you then?!”

“Because I love you!”

And there it was.

An all-encompassing silence contrasted the shouting match from seconds ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and the sound of your raging heartbeat was the only thing you could hear.

You close your eyes and take a breath, trying to figure out how to salvage your situation.

But before you could open them, a pair of large hands grabbed both sides of your face and pushed you up against a wall, and you felt soft lips slot perfectly against yours.

Your eyes flew open and all you could see was pale skin and white hair, after a second of realising what you happening, you understood the Satoru, the boy you’d loved for so long, was kissing you - pressed between him and the wall.

So you did as you imagined in so many daydreams, and wrapped one arm around his neck and snaked the other through his silky white hair.

He groaned into the kiss and you swiped your tongue across his bottom lip.

Pulling away just enough to breathe, his eyes opened and he took off his glasses - so all you could see were pools of crystalline blue.

“You. You are fucking everything to me.” He said, soft and full of passion.

“Seeing you nearly get hurt, for me, I couldn’t take it. That’s why I was mad. I couldn’t watch the girl I’ve been in love with for 2 years get hurt trying to keep me safe.” He whispered, stroking your face.

Hearing him say he was in love with you made tears well up in your eyes.

“I protect the people I love, ‘Toru. No matter what they can do. You don’t have to do everything by yourself. You will always be the strongest, but I’ll always be beside you, to me you’re just my Satoru. And I’d love you in any universe. I love you.” He whispered pressing small kisses onto his cheeks.

His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest, the fact that you love him for him, not as the 6 eyes, not as the strongest, not as a Gojo or an heir. Just Satoru. You love him for him, and you have his back - telling him he’s not alone.

“I love you too, so much.”

You pull him down to meet your lips again, now that you’ve heard that - you need him. All of him. The kiss turns deep, messily exploring each others mouth, wandering hands holding everything you could on each other. Satoru’s lips move to nip under your jaw, pressing slow, languid kisses into the soft skin of your neck.

“Jump.”

You did as he asked and wrapped your legs around his waist. From this angle, your heat was pressed against the solid planes of his stomach and you could feel the burgeoning hardness of his length on the plushness of your ass. You move your lips slightly, trying to gain any sort of friction and he gasps as he feels you moving against him.

“Bed, ‘toru, please.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this.” He fights to get the words out as you continue to move against him.

“I need you. Please. I’m all yours. Please, ‘toru.” With that whiney keen of your voice, there was no way he was able to turn down such sweet pleas.

Wrapping an arm securely under you, he lifted and carried you to his bed - laying you delicately on his white and grey bedsheets. Rolling so he’s on top of your, bodies closely pressed together, he fiddles with the hem of your shirt - tugging it upwards. You help him swipe it off and he unhooks your bra in one swift movement (fuck is there anything he can’t do?) and you in turn pull at his sweatshirt, whining under your breath.

When it’s off, you can’t help but stare with your mouth wide open at him. You’d seen him shirtless before, many times, but something was different now - knowing this was just for you. This state of undress was caused by you and given so freely in a whirlwind of pure adoration.

He smirks, watching you gaze through hooded eyes. He leans down and begins to lick and suck marks across the planes of your chest, teasing lick so close to your breasts that he can feel your breath hitch every time his breath ghosts past them.

He hooks his fingers into your skirt and looks at you for permission, you nod, a slight smile at him too.

He swipes it quickly down your legs and sees your pretty pink panties and nearly growls, he massages your hips, just taking a second to look at you and then kneels between your thighs, he loves your panties down and flings them across the room and then he pauses.

He praises his six eyes because god the view in front of him is angelic. You, his beautiful Y/N, laying completely bare in front of him - on his sheets. Your body looks so exquisite and inviting, he thinks you might be the world’s most captivating creation. So many nights he’d spent in this room, on this bed, fucking mercilessly into his fist at the thought of having you here naked beneath him. The countless days he’d rush back here after training with you, flashing images of your body and glistening skin or lips around your lollipop (he wondered if you had an oral fixation that day) sending blood rushing south and locking him away to release the frustration you caused. And now, you were here - a vision of beauty and oh-so vulnerable, and it wasn’t pure lust. You loved him, actually loved him and wanted him and that made it all the more erotic. He just had to taste you, he couldn’t wait anymore.

He leans down and gently licks across your thigh, and your breath hitches feeling his hot breath so close to where you need him. You wriggle your hips, but he just lays a strong forearm across your lower belly - a signal to let him have his fun. You look down at him, and fuck if you don’t moan at the sight you’d dreamed of for so long - snowy hair resting against your thighs, eyes staring up at you from between your legs and pink tongue slowly moving to lick and taste your most sensitive parts.

Suddenly, a slow, languid lick is pressed against your folds and you both groan in unison.

“Fuck, babydoll, you taste like candy. Knew you’d be so sweet to me. So wet already.” And with that, he dives in like a starved man, like someone who hadn’t drunk in days. You writhe under him, as he finds and explores your heat. He knows he’s found that magic little spot when you gasp and jerk against him, and he smirks. Swirling his tongue around your clit, he slips a delicate, long finger slowly inside of you and massages your walls - feeling so hot and wet he bucks into the mattress at the thought of getting his cock inside you. He curls his finger as he finds that squishy spot that makes you moan and you feel him smile against you. You couldn’t believe how good this felt, he knew how to play your body so well.

He felt you begin to tense and shake, so he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently - he would take his time with you and play with you more some other time but now he just had to make you come undone.

Your legs gripped his head and back arches off the bed as you let out the most glorious sound Satoru had ever heard, and you gushed against his face. He sat back to admire you coming down from your high, and you slowly opened you eyes and then pushed yourself up, pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. He happily obliged and pushes them down and you sit and your jaw drops once again.

There he was, the boy you loved so much, looking positively ethereal, eyes half-lidded staring down at you and the milky skin of his torso gleaming like a statue in the moonlight, defined abs just screaming to be explored by your tongue. Your eyes travelled further down and god everything about this man just had to be pretty, his cock stood large and proud, about 8 inches, laying against his navel, the base surrounded by white curls and balls hanging heavy and full. A pale pink shaft decorated with 2 or 3 blue throbbing veins leading up to a darker pink velvety mushroom tip. Your tongue darts out as you lean down, desperate to feel him heavy in your mouth (he confirms the oral fixation). A hand in your hair stops you, and you whine.

“As badly as I wanna feel your pretty mouth around my cock princess, I gotta be inside you now, you’ll get time to play later okay?” He just adored the foggy look of lust in your eyes as you nod eagerly and lay back against his pillows.

You sit there and for a moment you’re shocked to reality, this is what is happening right now. The countless nights you’d laid awake with a hand between your thighs, playing with your own puffy, overstimulated clit because no matter how much you came you knew nothing would feel as good as he would inside of you. Images of his hands and how they’d feel around your throat, or his pretty head between your thighs floating through your mind and now they’re becoming reality. The boy you loved was currently naked and kissing you softly on his bed, and he loved you too.

You’re snapped from your thoughts when he leans over to his nightstand and you speak up.

“I, um, I’m clean and I- I have an IUD so you don’t have to wear one, if you want to that’s fine.” You say, slightly shy.

He throws his head back at your insinuation.

“I’m clean too. Fuck baby, are you asking me to fuck you raw?” He looks into your eyes and kneads your breasts between his large hands.

“Please, ‘toru. I- I wanna feel you. All of you.” And how could he say no to those big glistening eyes?

You grab the lube from his drawer and squirt some onto your hand, and he leans down to capture your lips once more, tongues swirling together messily and you snake your hand down between your sweaty bodies and wrap your hand around his cock and the man whimpers at the feeling. Your hand feels so much better than he ever could and god he feels like he could burst when you stroke your soft little hand up and down so gently, and then in a confident move contrasting how delightfully submissive (as he always thought and hoped you would be, you were so confident and strong in your day to day life, always taking care of people, he always wanted to be the reason you relinquished control and submitted to the pleasures he could provide) you’d been that night, you guided his cock to your weeping hole and he slowly pushes his way inside and fuck his domain expansion, he sees the universe when he finally bottoms out inside of you. You’re grateful for the lube and the gentleness he uses when letting you adjust to his well-above-average size.

“Jesus princess, this pretty cunt was made for me, wasn’t it? So tight around my cock, can feel ya squeezing, s’at for me?” He mumbles as he slowly begins to thrust into you.

“All yours ‘Toru. Is all for you.”

“God, I love you so much, wanted this for so long baby. Doin’ such a good job for me, taking it all so well.”

“I love you too, ‘toru. So much. Feels so good. Need more, please, gimme more.”

You asked so nicely he just had to oblige.

“Begging me to fuck you raw and then asking for more, god, such a whore for me aren’t ya?” Leaning back slightly to gather more space to piston his hips into you, he smirks and you involuntarily clench around him at his words.

“Is that what you like baby? You like being my whore? Ya just need to be filled right up with my cum, ain’t that right?”

“Fuck, please Satoru, I’m so close, please just -” and you were cut off as the air was knocked from your lungs as he began to rail you into the mattress. He was throbbing inside you and you were so close, he leaned down and kissed you so softly and the contrast of his actions had you on the edge, he began to swipe messy circles on your clit and you spasmed and gushed around him, moaning the name of your love over and over again which was the nail in the coffin for Satoru’s restraint as his thrusts grew sloppy and he came with a shout of your name. You felt his warm spend flood your insides and you both lay together, chest to chest, and he rubbed small circles into your hip with his thumb and you kissed his collarbone as you gathered your wits. Eyes still closed, you felt him slide out of you with a hiss and his weight lifted off the bed. A moment later, feeling something soft and warm and wet between your thighs, you see Satoru with a small cloth cleaning you up. The softness, and thoughtfulness of his actions after fucking you so thoroughly just lifted your lips into a smile - the contrast so perfectly Satoru.

“Thank you, ‘Toru.” You mutter, smiling at him.

“Of course, can’t have your sluttiness messing up my Egyptian cotton sheets now can I?” He smirked as he tossed the cloth on the floor. The teasing lilt in his voice had you laughing.

“As if you’re any better, such a whore 5 minutes ago.”

“But your whore.” He said as he pulled you into his chest.

You giggled and nuzzled into his chest.

“Wanna go to the cute French cafe we like tomorrow?” He asks, kissing your hair.

“Like, on a date?” You ask, somehow still nervous despite the nights events. Maybe just shock at the fact this is reality.

“Well, duh, you’re my girlfriend of course it’s a date, dummy.”

You smile into his soft skin at this. It’s so typically Satoru to not even officially ask you (he didn’t need to, you’d been his since the day you both met, and vice versa) he just decided you were his. He was always used to getting what he wanted, and this was no different.

“Well, would my boyfriend also bring me for boba?”

“Your boyfriend would bring you the moon if you asked, princess.” He said with a smile, tilting your chin up to him with a finger and planting a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo.”

“I love you too, so much, my angel.”

A beat of silence, as you just gaze at each other.

“We’re gonna get so much shit from Shoko and Suguru tomorrow aren’t we?”

“Meh, I’ll just piss them off until they leave us alone.”

You laugh at his antics and with one last kiss, you both succumb to sleep. Wrapped safely, tangled up in each other. That night the bubble of peace and feeling of home you found in each other was founded, that would last the rest of your lives together.

PRESENT DAY

“And then he said he loved me too and asked me to be his girlfriend.” You finished, dusting some blush across Tsumiki’s cheeks.

“And you guys have been together ever since?” She asks, with all the fascination of a young girl hearing a fairytale.

“Yep! And she’ll never get rid of me!” A voice comes from the doorway, and you smile at Satoru leaning his lanky frame on the doorway of your dressing room.

“Glad to see you’re not sulking anymore, Satoru darling.” You teased.

“I just don’t want my tiny baby girl growing up! Dates! Boys! 15 is far too young!” He waves his hands around.

“Satoru, you were 12 on your first date. You don’t have a leg to stand on.” You laugh at him, putting the finishing touches to Tsumiki’s hair, remembering the piece of information from a game of truth or dare in the dorms one night.

“Honestly! I’m just being bullied at this point, in my own home. At least Megumi loves me and cares about my feelings!” He dramatically puts his hand to his chest, faking a wound.

“No, I don’t.” Comes a young male drawl from down the hall.

Just as he is about to start mocking crying, the doorbell rings.

“Tsumiki, find yourself a boy or girl who treats you how your dad treats me. You are worth everything, and never accept less, find someone who loves you to the moon and back, like how your dad and I love each other, and then you’ll always be happy. Now, go! We’ll stay here so we don’t embarrass you.”

You both wave her off and tell her to stay in touch with you and be home by 9 pm.

“She asked how we got together?” Satoru asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you against the dressing table.

“Yep. Finished the story at confessing we love each other after the argument, figured she didn’t need to hear the details of the rest of the night .” You giggled.

He smirked, lifting his blindfold and licking his lips. He lifted you and pushed you against the wall.

“Wanna recreate the rest of the story?” He says into your neck, sucking marks on your shoulder.

“Fuck yes, I’ll never say no to that. Bed, please ‘toru.” You smile, tugging on the roots of his hair, and wiggling your hips onto his crotch. He picks you up bridal style and makes his way into your bedroom, locking the door behind you and laying you on white and grey sheet.

“I love you, princess.”

“And I love you, ‘Toru.”

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

helloooo.. so i’m looking for this zhongli x reader fanfic where zhongli kills reader because he thinks reader killed guizhong and then reader admits it (even though she never killed her at all) huhu i hope someone will respond to this😭😭😭😭 please and thank you in advance <3

Dress

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: every student assumes that you and gojo Satoru, who always seems to be by your side, are best friends, but you don't want him just like that. contents: MDNI! nsfw, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, secretly dating, both reader and gojo are teachers in JJK setting, drunk-in-love gojo, pet names, alcohol, reader is a year younger, nipple!play, bathtub scene, oral!fem!receiving, missionary, mentions of death, mentions of past. inspired by the song dress word count: 4.2k

There is an indentation in the shape of you Only bought this dress so you could take it off

With a gentle sigh, you announced the end of the day's lesson and tidied up your folders. "That's it for today. Let's continue this tomorrow," you said, your voice lingering in the big classroom.

"Got it, Y/N-sensei!" Yuuji, ever the eager student, quickly jumped up from his seat and held the door open for you. You smiled at him and thanked him for his help.

Megumi and Nobara followed behind you as you exited the classroom, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. You walked down the hallway, listening with amusement as the trio bickered about what they would eat for lunch.

It was heartwarming to see them getting along so well, as it reminded you how Nanami and Haibara would constantly bicker and argue and how you used to act as the peacemaker between them during your student days.

You felt a pang of sadness as you realized how much Haibara would have enjoyed spending time with them.

Your smile faded when you imagined the laughter and conversations that could have been, but you quickly shook off the feeling, letting go of the past and any negative thoughts that threatened to bring you down.

You suddenly felt a subtle vibration in your pocket, prompting you to snap back into reality. Without wasting a second, you reached down to retrieve your phone, and as you glanced at the screen, a smile returned to your face.

Gojo Satoru.

The caller ID revealed a familiar name and number, triggering a rush of emotions within you, and you felt a surge of delight as you answered the call.

"Sweetheart," he greeted you, his voice filled with warmth and affection. You could hear the smile in his voice as he continued, "I've had your dress delivered to your dorm. Wear that tonight."

You sighed deeply, knowing that Gojo wouldn't take no for an answer. You kept your voice low, conscious of the surrounding students, as you responded, "Got that, 'Toru."

You and Gojo had been together for a couple of years now, and while all the staff knew about your relationship, you had agreed to keep it private in front of the students to maintain professionalism. In front of the students, you acted as if you were just friends, but behind closed doors, you were much more than that.

Every student assumes that you and Satoru, who always seems to be by your side, are best friends; but you don't want him like that.

You suddenly heard his voice interrupting you as you were lost in your thoughts. "What time should I fetch you?" he asked.

"Utahime, Shoko, and I will go together, hun," you replied, slightly pouting. "I'll just see you at the venue."

It was a time-honored tradition at Jujutsu High for all the staff and teachers to come together every quarter and share a scrumptious feast and some refreshing drinks. This get-together aimed to strengthen the ties between colleagues and nurture a sense of camaraderie within the school.

It was an eagerly anticipated affair, providing an excellent opportunity for the attendees to catch up with one another and reconnect with sorcerers.

"I don't like that idea. I haven't seen you for a week, too," he exclaimed with a hint of stress clearly evident. You could sense the disappointment in his tone, and your heart ached a little at the thought of him being upset.

"Sorry, babe, but I promise to stay by your side all night," you said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. You chuckled softly when you heard him sigh in defeat, knowing you had won.

You indeed had the strongest sorcerer wrapped around your finger.

"Okay. I love you, see you, pretty girl," he said, his lips smacking exaggeratedly as he blew you kisses through the phone.

You couldn't help but giggle at his antics replying, "I love you too!" You bid your farewells as you ended the call, feeling a sense of excitement wash over you as you looked forward to spending the night with your boyfriend.

Arriving at your dorm room, you immediately noticed a big white box outside your door. It looked like an expensive package, with its pristine white exterior and sturdy construction.

You picked up the box, and as you opened the door, you carried it inside. Setting the box down on your bed, you took a peek through the small card placed on top of it.

Bought you this dress, so I could take it off. From Gojo Satoru.

You gasped at his boldness, laughing as you opened the package, your eyes were immediately drawn to the vibrant color of the dress. It was a rich, warm shade of red - a deep maroon that exuded elegance and sophistication. Lifting the dress out of the box, you couldn't help but notice its intricate details.

The dress had a halter-neck design, with delicate straps fastening behind the neck. But what really caught your attention was the stunning backless detail - revealing just the right amount of skin. The intricate details woven into the fabric were mesmerizing.

It was clear that this was no ordinary dress - it was a work of art, an exquisite masterpiece that had clearly been customized with care and attention to detail. You held it in your hands, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, marveling at the beauty and elegance of this stunning piece of clothing.

Y/N How much is this!???? Omg, I said to stop buying me too many dresses! I need to buy another closet soon... this one looks expensive honey :( Satoru You deserve it. You can have a long walk-in closet in our future house, so don't worry about your pretty little head! Gtg, I need to go. Y/N You're impossible. Satoru You love me.

You let out a soft chuckle as you read through his latest text message, shaking your head in amusement at the sheer persistence that Gojo Satoru has. It's one of the things you love about him - his unwavering determination to get what he wants.

Some might see it as a negative trait, but to you, it's a testament to his determination and unwavering commitment to achieving his goals.

Yet, for all his assertiveness and confidence, he's the most considerate man you've ever met. He never made decisions without considering the potential outcomes and how they would impact those around him.

It's a rare quality in someone so driven and successful, but it sets him apart from others.

His love for his students and the younger generation is palpable, and the care and attention he gives them is a testament to his character. But more than anything, you cherish the love he's given you the most.

The kind of love that you crave and never want to let go of.

The day had flown by effortlessly, and now you are standing in front of the mirror, applying your favorite lip gloss. Taking a step back, you gaze at your reflection, feeling pleased with how you look.

The red backless dress perfectly hugs your curves in all the right places, and the color complements your skin tone perfectly. You paired it with some strappy black heels that elongate your legs. You've applied light makeup to your face, ensuring a natural look that accentuates your features.

You then heard a soft knock on your door. When you approached the door and opened it, you found Shoko and Utahime looking at you with awe in their eyes.

Utahime couldn't contain her excitement and exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! You look stunning, girl!" She hugged you tightly, still amazed at your appearance.

Holding your hand, Shoko turned you around and said teasingly, "Gojo would be on his feet in seconds if he saw you like this, Y/N."

You blush at their compliments and mutter, "I really hate it when you tease me, senpai." You feel shy in front of them but grateful for their support. "But you both look gorgeous," you add, admiring their outfits.

You arrived at the venue hand-in-hand with Utahime, your other hand in Shoko's arms, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins as you stepped inside.

The people turned their heads upon your entrance, greeting the three of you with warm smiles and friendly hellos. As you scanned the room, you immediately saw Gojo Satoru - standing up to approach you.

He looked as majestic as ever, dressed in a black polo shirt and matching pants accentuating his tall, lean frame. His dark glasses were placed on his eyes. He deactivated his infinity; he always does whenever he's around you.

"Baby," he greeted you with a warm smile, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arms around your waist protectively. "You look absolutely beautiful tonight."

You blushed at his compliment, feeling your heart swell with love and affection for this amazing man who always knew how to make you feel like the most special person in the world. "

"You don't look too bad yourself, Satoru," you teased, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

He blushed slightly, despite his cocky demeanor, he always seemed to turn into a shy schoolboy around you. He guided you towards a seat he had saved for you, and the night began in earnest.

The night was spent in a whirlwind of laughter, good food, and plenty of alcohol. Your boyfriend was dared by Nanami to drink, and you couldn't help but giggle at how competitive he could be at times.

Despite his lack of ability to handle his liquor, Gojo managed to hold his own throughout the night, never once letting go of your waist as the two of you mingled with the other guests.

The night wore on, you found yourself feeling more and more grateful to have this amazing man in your life. His arms never left your waist, and you felt shy as the people around you teased the two of you for being inseparable.

Finally, the night came to a close; Gojo scooped you up into his arms, he shook his head to his driver in silence, suggesting that he would be carrying you on his back instead, muttering, "I'll take my girl home myself."

"Okay, 'Toru." The liquid courage immediately made you agree, hopping to his back when you saw him crouch down without second thoughts. You felt carefree and alive as you clung to him; his hands reached your heels from your hands so he could hold them.

The cool night air caressed your face as you walked through the bustling streets; his cologne in your senses intoxicating, the sounds of his laughter and stories filling the air.

Arriving ten minutes later in his apartment, Satoru helped you out of your dress; You giggled as he clumsily fumbled with the zipper, finally managing to free you from the confines of the fabric. You undressed him, revealing his toned body to you.

Afterward, his glasses were removed, and as you did so, Satoru shut his eyes, fully aware of your next move. You leaned in and gently kissed each of his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, a loving gaze of cerulean blue met yours.

With a small smile on your face, you took his hand, guided him, stepped into the warm, inviting water of the bathtub, and settled in, feeling the suds and lavender-scented bubbles envelop your skin.

"You look so fucking beautiful," Satoru's words were slurred when he leaned in to kiss your face before his lips found yours. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body as his mouth moved against yours, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. Your hands roamed over his body, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips. "I missed my baby so much,"

"Satoru," You muttered as you felt his kiss deepen; you felt his cock growing hard beneath you. Without hesitation, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him as he groaned in pleasure. You felt his hands wander down your body, tracing the curves of your breasts and hips. "Please, I need you."

"Come here, my sweet girl." Satoru leaned back against the edge of the tub, his cock standing proud and erect. You smiled as you straddled him, your body sinking down onto his hard length.

"You feel so good, 'Toru," A moan escaped your lips as you began to ride him, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, your hips grinding against his in a slow, seductive rhythm.

"I missed these two so much," Satoru's hands roamed over your chest, caressing your breasts. He leaned in to suckle on your nipples, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh.

You gasped, your body arching into his touch. He continued to lavish attention on your breasts, switching from one to the other with practiced ease.

"Such a good girl for wearing that dress tonight," Satoru's lips then found your neck, sucking and peppering it with kisses. "Can't get enough of you, can't stop staring at you."

"I'm so close," you gasped, your body trembling with desire. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel your muscles start to tense as you climbed closer and closer to climax. Satoru's breaths grew ragged as he neared the edge, groaning your name as his body taut with anticipation.

"B-baby," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer. The pleasure was too much to bear, and you heighten in a burst of ecstasy. Your body shook with the force of your release, and you collapsed against Satoru's chest, panting and spent.

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying the warmth and safety of his embrace.

"I love you," Satoru whispered those words; you stared back at him, captivated by the intensity of his gaze and how he looked at you with such adoration and care made you feel like the most precious thing in the world.

Your response was almost automatic, as you whispered back, "I love you, too." He gently caressed your hair in response.

The alcohol had left you feeling tired and a little hazy, and your recent lovemaking took its toll on your body.

Satoru gently cleaned you up in the shower, taking extra care to be gentle and loving as he washed your body. His touch was tender and affectionate, and you pressed kisses onto his face.

He wrapped you in a soft robe, drying your hair with a mild touch, taking care not to tug or pull. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the depth of his love for you.

Carrying you bridal style, he made his way to the bed, his movements sure and steady. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

The sensation of his fingers on your skin was comforting, and you felt yourself relax completely. He removed your robes and tucked you into bed.

"Good night, sweetheart." He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his words lulling you into a peaceful slumber. His scent was intoxicating, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into a state of bliss.

At that moment, you knew that you were loved. You knew that you were cherished.

And you knew that you had found your soulmate in Gojo Satoru.

The morning sun slowly rose over the horizon, and its golden rays began to filter through the window, casting a warm and inviting glow across the room.

The soft morning haze gradually began filling the space, creating a serene and peaceful atmosphere almost ethereal in its beauty.

The room itself seemed to come alive with a sense of magic and wonder as if a scene from a fairy tale came to life.

In the midst of this enchanting setting, two bodies lay intertwined, wrapped up in each other's arms. Their limbs were entwined, their hearts beating in perfect unison as they basked in the warmth and love that surrounded them.

It was as if time had stood still, and the world outside had faded away into nothingness, leaving only the two of them in a blissful embrace.

The soft light of the morning sun played across their faces, casting delicate shadows and highlights that only enhanced their beauty. Their skin seemed to glow with a radiance almost otherworldly, as if they were beings from a different plane of existence.

As the minutes ticked by, the morning light grew brighter and more intense, casting a warm and welcoming glow across the room. You stirred, your eyes slowly opening to take in the beauty surrounding you. You stared at the man beside you with awe, marveling at the depth of their peace as they comfortably slept.

Smiling, you felt your heart swell upon hearing his soft breaths; reminiscing that he was the one who made your life complete, the one who filled your days with laughter and happiness. You couldn't imagine a life without him.

You lay there, taking in the moment, you realized that waking up beside him was always the thing that left you speechless.

It was a feeling that you could never put into words. It was a feeling of contentment, of knowing you were right where you were meant to be.

Satoru slowly opened his eyelids. His gaze met yours, and he couldn't help but flash you a lopsided smile that was both playful and teasing.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, his voice rasp.

You chuckled at his playful remark, feeling your own lips curve into a smile. "Always," you replied, reaching out to take his hand, feeling his warmth and strength as you intertwined your fingers.

Satoru's touch is gentle and tender, as if he is handling something precious and delicate. His fingers trail along your arms, sending shivers down your spine.

He moved his body closer to yours, placing his head on your neck. The softness of his lips against your neck sends a jolt of electricity through your veins. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and it sends a tingling sensation all over your body.

With each kiss, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into a state of bliss.

"Good morning," he whispers those two little words, you feel your heart swell with emotion.

You watch as he tugs at the sheets, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he reveals more and more of your skin.

The fabric slips from you, revealing the smooth curve of your neck and the delicate slope of your collarbone. Eyes are fixed on yours as he positioned himself on top of you.

Satoru's hands are warm and gentle as he caresses your breasts, his fingers tracing the curve of your nipples before tugging them gently. You can't help but moan softly as he continues to explore your body, his touch sending electric pulses of pleasure through you.

"Satoru," you whisper, your voice laced with desire. You lean forward to kiss him, your lips meeting his in a soft, sweet embrace. He responds eagerly, his tongue probing the depths of your mouth as his hands continue to explore your body.

His hands continue to send shivers up your spine as he caresses your inner thighs, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin there. You can feel your arousal building with each passing moment, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

When his fingers finally brush against your most sensitive spot, you can't help but arch your back, your hips bucking in anticipation.

"I love waking up with you, so I can do this too, Y/N," Satoru whispers, his voice low and husky. He continues to suckle on your breast, you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you. His touch is gentle yet firm, and his tongue flickers on your sensitive nipple. You moaned softly, your body responding to his every touch.

He switches his attention to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him completely. His hands roam freely across your body, exploring every inch of your skin. You feel yourself growing wet with desire, your body aching for more.

"I want you," he whispers in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to make you feel good." You nod your head, unable to resist his charms any longer.

"Please, baby."

"My princess wants, my princess gets." He leans forward and captures your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue darting out to explore your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment, the sensations overwhelming you.

He reaches down to resume caressing your womanhood, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Satoru lowers himself into your cunt, using his thumb to part your lips slightly and exposing your clit. He begins to tenderly circle it with the tip of his finger, sending shivers down your spine.

Your body grows warmer under his touch, your breath coming faster. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body begging for release.

"You taste so sweet, could eat this all day," He moved his tongue deeper inside you, lapping like a man with thirst; his fingers continued to apply gentle pressure, adding to the intensity of the moment as your legs began to tremble uncontrollably.

You could feel yourself getting closer to the brink of orgasm, your breath quickening and your cries becoming louder with each passing second. You knew that you were on the verge of release, and he also seemed to sense it. He pressed harder, driving you over the edge and into a world of pure pleasure.

"More," Your entire body convulsed as waves of ecstasy radiated throughout your being. You cried out his name with each spasm, tears streaming down your face as you surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

It was as if nothing else in the world mattered except for the pure pleasure that he was giving you.

As you slowly came back down from the high of your orgasm, he gently licked your thighs clean of any traces of your seed. You could feel his arousal growing as he savored the taste of you, and it only added to the intensity of the moment.

Moving on top of you, he caressed your cheek with one hand while the other rested gently on your shoulder, providing comfort and safety as you basked in the afterglow of your pleasure. "You felt a sense of gratitude wash over you, grateful for the experience and for the person who had given it to you. "Good girl,"

With his heart racing and his face flushed, Satoru positioned himself between your legs. He guided his hardened member towards your delicate entrance. Watching your reaction, Satoru slowly slid inside, feeling your warmth envelop him.

"Fuck, baby you're so tight," The sensation was almost overwhelming, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. When he felt that you were ready, he continued his steady advance, gradually easing your legs open to stretch to his size. "You feel so good,"

He moved in and out of you, wrapping your legs around him; Satoru could feel your walls clenching, sending shivers of delight through his entire body. He was completely focused on you, on the way your body responded to his touch, on the way your scent filled his nostrils. "Could spend all day inside you, Y/N."

"Toru," You moaned when he found your nipples again, the overstimulation edging you to ecstasy.

The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, accompanied by soft moans and groans of pleasure. Breaths became ragged, each movement bringing you both closer to the precipice.

"So warm," He sensed you reaching the edge, Satoru changed the angle slightly, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and you cried out, your body tensing as you let go completely.

Satoru continued to move in and out of you, uttering, "M'close,"

You both reached your orgasms, his body tensed up and his breath quickened. You could feel his muscles contracting around you, and then his release came in a rush of heat and ecstasy. His seed spilled deep inside of you, filling you with his essence and marking you as his.

You could feel the warmth spreading through your body as he collapsed on top of you, spent and satisfied. The feeling of his weight pressing down on you was comforting, as if he was claiming you as his own.

You could feel the sweat on your skin, and the scent of sex hung heavily in the air. Laying on the bed, still connected, breaths were heavy and labored. The aftermath of love-making had left you both in a state of blissful exhaustion.

He pulls out slowly, pressing kisses on your forehead and whispering, "My one and only." He started, adding, "My lifeline," as he kissed your nose, and his lips met yours.

"Marry me, Y/N."

Note: OMG, I can't believe I did this, lmao. When I started writing a couple of weeks ago, I didn't think it was even possible for me to write an NSFW, but yeah, Satoru is THAT man. so please be gentle with me, it's my first time writing an 18+ fic!!! sorry for the over-emotional scenes, this is very self-indulgent :) Will be posting a new fic within next week!

Love,

Aurora.

Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

“HEY, HEY, YOU, YOU, I DON’T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

“NO WAY, NO WAY, I THINK YOU NEED A NEW ONE!”

— SYNOPSIS: gojo’s stupid, stuck up bitch of a girlfriend has been ruining your very platonic friendship with him. he could do so much better… luckily for you, you get a chance to claim him back!!

— WARNINGS: afab! reader, porn with plot, dubcon to consensual, cheating (u r the homewrecker) + over the phone, voyeurism at the end (everyone’s toxic in this lmfao), squirting, unprotected sex, just the tip, swearing, spanking, back scratching, kissing, creampie, general unholy things, 5k words

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: DIES AND RUNS AWAY HELPPPPPP ME PLEASE MIGHT DELEYE LATER

you hate her. you hate her, you hate her, you hate her. who might you be talking about, exactly? gojo's... girlfriend.

ever since she entered his life, she's brought nothing but insecurity and tension. you seethe with resentment every time you see her, her presence a constant reminder of the barriers she's erected between you and satoru. she's like a thorn in your side, an unwelcome intruder in the bond you share with him.

and you've tried to tolerate her, you tell yourself, tried to give her a chance, but her snide remarks and controlling behavior only serve to fuel your distaste towards her. she's changed him, molded him into something lesser than what he once was, and it infuriates you to no end.

because of her, satoru's no longer permitted to late-night calls with you, she always has to be included in your hangouts, and even the innocent act of platonic cuddling has become taboo. all of it has been stripped away, replaced by her suffocating presence and incessant demands for attention. you hate her, loathe her for robbing you of the closeness you once shared with satoru, for injecting doubt and insecurity into the foundation of your friendship. she's trying to draw a line between you and him, but you refuse to accept it. she's bitchy, rude, and will never understand satoru the way you do. she's not right for him, you convince yourself.

he's not the same anymore. his smiles are strained, his laughter forced. exhaustion is etched into every line of his face, yet they remain together, and it infuriates you to no end. despite your best efforts to suppress it, the bitterness festers beneath the surface, poisoning your interactions with satoru and tainting his perception of your friendship. she's infected him, told him that you, the victim, were actively trying to seduce him. do platonic friendships just not exist anymore? and what's worse, he believed her over you. you can't help but resent her for coming between you and the person you care about most in the world.

but today is different. today feels like a stolen moment, a precious respite from the suffocating presence of satoru's possessive girlfriend. a sleepover with him, just the two of you alone. you had to lie, of course, that this would be a group hangout with shoko and geto, but then again, it's not the biggest of deals. after all, he was your best friend first, and then her boyfriend. that's the order of priorities things should be, right?

you relish the freedom of being able to spend time alone with him, unencumbered by her constant need for attention and validation. it's a rare opportunity to reconnect with the friend you've missed so dearly. despite the facade of innocence you wear, there's an undercurrent of anticipation coursing through you, a thrill at the prospect of having him all to yourself for the first time in what feels like ages. you can't help but feel a pang of guilt at the deception, but it's quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming desire to savor every moment with him.

after all, he's your best friend, and you'll do whatever it takes to protect your bond, even if it means bending the truth just a little.

as you slip into your chosen attire, (booty shorts and a see-through tank top), a sense of anticipation courses through you. this is your chance to reclaim some semblance of the closeness you once shared with satoru, free from the prying eyes and judgmental glances of his overbearing girlfriend. you're determined to make the most of this opportunity, to bask in his undivided attention without any unwarranted interference. the fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, eliciting a satisfied smirk as you catch your reflection in the mirror.

you know the effect it'll have on him, how his eyes will light up when he sees you, how his gaze will linger just a little longer than usual. you push aside any lingering doubts or guilt, reminding yourself that he's your best friend, and there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to look good for him.

you feel a surge of confidence wash over you, bolstered by the knowledge that you finally have him all to yourself. no more tiptoeing around his girlfriend's insecurities, no more censoring your words or actions to avoid setting her off. today is about you and satoru, reconnecting on a level that's been sorely lacking in recent months. your gaze flickers to the door of your apartment, anticipation bubbling within you. with deliberate care, you spritz your favorite perfume, relishing in its familiar scent.

as the door rings, and in the peephole you see a head of white hair, you run a hand through your own hair, ensuring every strand falls just right. opening the door, a wide smile graces your face.

"satoru!!" you exclaim, darting into his embrace, your body pressing against his. you've forgone wearing a bra today; those straps always annoyed you, you reason to yourself. not because you're trying to evoke a reaction, mind you. he notices, awkwardly patting your back while keeping a slight distance. you loathe it— the awkwardness that's settled between you two, all thanks to her. the old satoru wouldn't have batted an eye.

"hey, y/n," he greets, his tone lacking the endearments he once showered you with. not angel, or sweetheart, but y/n. it's almost like an insult. you fight the urge to dig your nails into your palms. confusion clouds his expression. "where's shoko? and geto? and everybody else?" he asks, scanning the empty apartment.

"oh... something came up, and they had to cancel,"

you fib, a pout forming on your lips. "but it's not weird that it's just us, right?" you tilt your head innocently, hoping he'll believe it. after all, he could never say no to you, could he? you catch the subtle flicker in his eyes as they dart towards the door, but to your relief, he nods slowly.

"...yeah. guess it could just be you and me," he agrees, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation. your heart flutters, and you flash him a radiant smile, your big doe eyes sparkling with anticipation as you gently tug him into your apartment. it's a familiar scene—the two of you alone together—but it's been so long that it feels almost nostalgic.

he groans softly as he kicks off his shoes, placing them right beside your heels, before sinking into the welcoming embrace of your couch. the soft cushion envelopes him as he lets out a contented sigh, a small smile playing on his lips. you fight the urge to climb into his arms like you used to, knowing all too well the reinforced "boundaries" he's imposed between you.

but it's okay, you tell yourself, because deep down, you know it's not him—it's his girlfriend who's pulling the strings, dictating his every move. she doesn't want him to be near you, because she's jealous of the relationship you have.

but today, she's nowhere to be found to intervene. so you decide to test the waters, just a bit. taking a seat on the couch right next to him, your side pressing against his, you observe his reaction. he doesn't make any move to shift away. good.

"wanna watch a movie?" you suggest, reaching for the remote control. with a nod, his gaze shifts from you to the screen as you pretend to randomly select a channel. of course, this was all planned beforehand, though not in a weird way— simply because you know him better than anyone else. his favorite horror movie pops up, and his eyes widen with interest as he stares at the screen in front of him.

while his attention is on the tv, yours is focused on him. snuggling up against his arm, you smile softly, feeling a rush of familiarity and warmth. you've missed this, missed him, and you're utterly determined to ensure that your bond remains strong, regardless of any external factors. as the horror movie plays out, you clutch his arm tighter, pretending to be scared at the brutal murder scenes as you bury yourself in his arm. he cocks his head, a soft smile on his lips as he ruffles your hair, slinking his arm around your shoulder.

"you're such a baby, y'know that?" he teases, his laughter filling the room as you frown up at him playfully. but deep down, you're elated, reveling in the closeness you share with him.

"'m not, 'toru!" you huff, sticking your tongue out at him in mock defiance. and for a moment, everything seems normal again, just you and him against the world. but it seems like suddenly he remembers he shouldn't encroach on any of his own boundaries, subtly pulling his arm back. huh? he's doing it again. it's annoying, how much he seems to be determined to be loyal, when the only person he should be loyal to is you. after all, who was there for him after every breakup? who was there when everybody else let him down? you. yet he's treating you like.... ...some stranger, like you're the problem, and you won't let it slide.

determined not to let the moment slip away, you decide to take it to the next level. grabbing the remote, you press pause right at the climax, his favourite part, eliciting an annoyed whine from him.

"what the—hey!" he protests, attempting to snatch the remote back. you giggle, shuffling back against the couch as he tries to snatch it from your hands. your back is pressed against the handrest of the couch, flailing around as you let out stifled giggles as he tickles your sides. you yelp as he pins you down across the couch, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips as he manages to snatch it from your grasp.

his limbs sprawl on top of yours, his knee just between your thighs, and his breath hitches, realizing how intimate the situation is becoming. the tv remote drops out of his hands, clattering on the floor, yet none of you reach down to pick it up. your eyes are boring into his, you can feel his hot breath on your face, his lips mere inches away from yours. and you can't resist the urge to close the distance, to see if he feels the same way. but his eyes widen, and he pulls back the slightest, just before your plush lips can touch his own.

"...we shouldn't be doing this..." he mumbles, trying to climb off of you. however, you refuse to let it end there, not when you're so close. your legs cages around his, pulling him back on top of you.

"do what?" you ask innocently, batting your eyelashes sweetly. "we're just having fun... right?" your nails caress his cheek, and he has to bite back a moan as you push your wet crotch against his knee, eliciting a strangled hiss from him. you've been acting so strangely ever since he introduced his girlfriend to you. normally, you'd never be so bold.

"...this isn't right," he mutters, as you blink up at him pleadingly. your hands trail down to his chin, cupping it gently. "she'll never find out... just one kiss, please?" you plead, your heart pounding with anticipation. and despite his morals, he finds himself folding fast, unable to resist the pull of your shared desires.

it's just you... right? his best friend. and... his girlfriend wouldn't know if nobody told her.

he struggles to convince himself it's not really cheating, rationalizing that you initiated it and he's just... letting you. your tongue slides into his parted mouth, and he releases a soft sigh of relief, surrendering to the moment. you teeth clash in a hungry, desperate kiss, each trying to consume the other entirely. it's a messy, tangled exchange, filled with raw desire as you straddle his lap, pulling him closer with a fervent urgency.

his hands grip your thighs, fingers kneading into the flesh of your ass, igniting a fiery sensation that courses through your body. the whole situation is undeniably fucked up, yet in the heat of the moment, neither of you can find it within yourselves to care. all that matters is that he's here, yielding to your advances, and you're determined to seize the opportunity.

with a swift motion, you peel off your shirt, revealing a perky pair of breasts that bounce enticingly as you discard your shorts, leaving you clad in nothing but anticipation. he finds himself staring; your cunt is sopping wet, staining the fabric of his pants.

trailing kisses down his neck, your hands hastily work to unbutton his shirt, exposing his chiseled abs to your eager gaze. his chest rises and falls rapidly, a testament to the intensity of the moment. pressing your crotch against his growing bulge, you tease him mercilessly, eliciting a guttural groan from deep within his throat.

"f-fuck..." he manages to utter, his head thrown back in a mixture of pleasure and torment. unable to resist any longer, you unzip his pants with eager hands, stripping him out of his boxers in one fluid motion. his erection springs free, standing tall and proud, flushed a pretty pink in response to your ministrations. the tip glistens with precum, a tantalizing invitation that you can't resist.

leaning in, you give it a teasing kiss, reveling in the way it twitches in response to your touch. his restraint is slipping, evident in the way he bites his lip so hard it threatens to bleed, his face flushed with arousal. you rub your slick all over his dick, coating it with your substances, watching him squirm as you continue to hump his member. he's cute, so effortlessly cute... a fat glob of precum drips out of his leaking, flushed tip. you stop shaking your hips for a moment, placing his length just below the entrance of your pussy, less than half an inch before it's actually in.

"whaddya say, 'toru?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction. "just the tip?" the air crackles with tension as you await his response, anticipation hanging heavy between you, poised on the precipice of forbidden desire.

he wants to say no, truly he does. but is it really cheating if it's just the tip? the thought swirls in his mind, clouded by the intoxicating haze of desire that surrounds him. It's been far too long since someone touched him with such fervent need, since he felt wanted in such a primal, undeniable way. his girlfriend's constant accusations, her nagging doubts, they've left him feeling starved for affection, for connection. and you, with your relentless passion, your shameless desire, you're like a flame drawing him in, igniting a hunger he can't deny.

"yeah," he breathes out, his hands gripping your ass possessively, a gentle pat radiating a sense of approval. you revel in his submission, in the knowledge that he's yours, if only for this moment. you know he's been deprived, desperate for the touch of another, and you're determined to show him just how much better you are.

with a teasing smirk, you lower your hips, allowing his mushroomed tip to slide into your eager cunt. both of you gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all. you're so sensitive, mewling at the mere contact of his head against your throbbing core. his brain fogs with pleasure, his cock twitching inside you as you roll your hips, riding the tip just as you promised. his tip, fat and fiery red is sucked into your folds oh so easily, throbbing and twitching cutely as your sweet cunt takes him so well. it brushes against your clit, sending a tingly feeling down your spine as you breathe out a mewl.

but it's not enough, not nearly enough. you want him all the way, every inch of him buried deep inside you, marking you as his. without warning, you brace yourself, sinking down on his cock, taking him in completely.

plunging his dick deep into your dripping pussy, a strangled mewl escapes your lips at the stretch, the burning sensation deliciously agonizing as you try to accommodate his size. he chokes back a guttural growl, his head thrown back in ecstasy as you clench around him, your tight heat enveloping him completely.

but he's too big, too thick, and you can't move your hips, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence inside you. you swear you could climax from the sheer penetration alone, your clit throbbing with an insatiable need to be touched.

"s-satoru?" you whimper, uncertainty laced in your voice as you seek reassurance. for a moment, there's no response, and you peel open one eye, only to squeal in shock when he roughly slaps your tit, his lust-filled gaze piercing into yours. any lingering guilt, any thoughts of his girlfriend, they're all but forgotten now, replaced by a primal urge that consumes you both.

"fuckin' slut..." he growls, his voice rough with desire as he pulls his cock out of your sopping wet cunt, leaving just the head nestled within you before snapping his hips up, driving his dick so forcefully you see stars. "clamping down on me like some whore, is that what you are?" he taunts, his words fueling the flames of your desire even further.

"ah~ just for you, 'toru..." you babble helplessly, your voice laced with need as you cling to him desperately, your nails leaving faint traces on his back. he bites down on your shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from you as pleasure courses through your veins, every sensation heightened by the intensity of the moment.

he knows it's not fair to compare, but the contrast is undeniable. you're so much tighter, so much more eager, as if your sole purpose is to satisfy him, and him alone. your grip on him is relentless, squeezing him like a vice, threatening to cut off his circulation. yet, in some twisted way, it feels right, as if he's found his rightful place within you, nestled snugly where he belongs.

"i'm gonna fuck you dumb," he growls, he promises, his words dripping with lust as he drives his cock deep into your core, each thrust kissing your cervix with a ferocious intensity. you stifle a sob, your eyes rolling back as you take him in fully, burying your face in his chest. the way he's gripping your hips, bouncing you on his length has your mind blurry, all you can think of is him. he feels intoxicating, like a drug coursing through your veins, leaving you addicted and craving more. you doubt sex with anyone else will ever compare to this, to the raw passion you share with gojo.

his fingers find your clit, flicking it and sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, causing you to buck your hips and sob out loud. you're a vision of ecstasy, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cling to him desperately, seeking validation in the midst of your pleasure.

"am i, hnngh~ better than her?" you manage to mumble between moans, your voice thick with desperation. you crave his affirmation, your need for validation driving you to new heights of arousal. you want proof that he prefers you, proof that you're his priority, proof that his girlfriend will always pale in comparison to you. his balls slap roughly against your ass as he pounds up into your womb ferally, one hand slapping your tits again with a loud thwack. at this rate, you'll burst any minute. he maintains his relentless pace, each thrust scraping against your walls in the most delicious way possible, molding your cunt to the shape of his dick, branding you as his own.

"haah, is that even a question?" he growls, his grip on your nipples tightening as your juices drip down his balls. "in every way." his words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a firestorm of pleasure within you. he's being honest too, your pussy lips are sucking him in deliciously, your nipples are so cute and sensitive, you look angelic on top of him. his favourite, you always were. you don't know how long he's been waiting to use you like his fleshlight. it's all too much, his praise feels so good, you can't hold it in any longer.

in response, you climax with a force that leaves you trembling, your essence coating his cock as you moan and writhe on top of him. you uncontrollably gush all over him, crying out in pleasure. he groans at the sensation, gathering some of your essence off his chest before offering it to you, his demand clear.

"suck," he orders, and you comply eagerly, lapping up the mixture of your combined juices with a hunger that borders on desperation. he pulls you into another sloppy kiss, his tongue dominating yours as you taste each other, saliva dripping down your chin as you break apart, panting for air.

"you're taking me so well," he coos, savoring every moment of your unraveling, your body yielding to his every thrust. the sight of you, utterly wrecked and undone for him alone, ignites a primal desire within him, fueling his relentless need to claim you completely. he revels in the subtle bulge his cock creates in your stomach, pressing down on it lightly. a whimper of embarrassment escapes you, only serving to further fuel his arousal.

your pussy, slick and inviting, grips him with an unquenchable hunger, driving him deeper into your cervix. each whimper and moan that escapes your lips sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his core, inflating his ego with every delicious sound of your surrender. despite his usual ability to prolong the moment, there's an urgency in his movements, a primal need to release and mark you as his own.

his thoughts turn increasingly perverse as he imagines you filled to the brim with his essence, your body overflowing with his hot, potent seed. the image fuels his lust, pushing him closer to the edge of control. your slick coating your inner thighs serves as a visual testament to the intensity of your shared passion, a physical manifestation of the ecstasy you both indulge in. sanity teeters on the edge as you both lose yourselves in the throes of carnal desire, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of pleasure.

his balls tighten, on the brink of releasing his hot load deep inside your eager womb, when suddenly, the intrusive sound of his phone interrupts the moment. with a muttered curse, he pauses his movements, his frustration evident as he glances at the caller id displaying 'lover' alongside a picture of him and that dumb blonde.

you roll your eyes in annoyance, knowing all too well how she always manages to ruin the most intimate moments. reluctantly, he answers the call, his tone strained as he attempts to maintain composure while continuing his thrusts. you stifle a moan as his cock pushes even deeper into your slick folds, one hand holding you in place while the other holds the phone to his ear.

"hey, baby... what's up?"

he manages, his voice strained with the effort of suppressing a growl, his hips still moving rhythmically against yours. her voice, as irritating as ever, filters through the speaker, laced with suspicion and annoyance.

"where are you?" she demands, her tone dripping with suspicion. "shoko said the group sleepover was cancelled, but you're still at y/n's house. what are you doing right now?" her interrogation sends a pang of annoyance through you, but you bite back any retort, reveling instead in the ring of your cream forming around the base of his cock.

"just watching a movie. i'll be back soon," he replies, his tone casual despite the tension in the room, his thrusts becoming a little too forceful as you muffle a quiet yelp. she falls silent, her suspicions clear. "what was that?" she presses, her tone growing more suspicious by the second.

"are you serious? that was just the movie," he retorts, frustration seeping into his voice as you clench down on him, urging him on. "again with this shit?" he groans, his irritation thinly veiling his true intentions. she's a bitch, an annoying skank who doesn't deserve satoru. but you do, because you're the one who makes him feel good. you're the one who actually cares.

that's why it's justified, why it's okay that you're fucking your best friend.

satoru winces as his girlfriend's shrill screams pierce through the phone, prompting him to pull it away from his ear and rub it gingerly. he responds by driving into you harder, his dick delving deeper into your dripping pussy.

"she's like, so whatever..." you moan, your voice filled with both pleasure and frustration as you bounce on his throbbing member, relishing in every inch of him. "you could do so much better... break up with her," you mewl, the urgency in your tone mirroring the intensity of your movements. for once, he actually considers it, swayed by the intoxicating allure of your words and the overwhelming desire you stir within him.

"you're not happy... i can do it better." you croon, your lips pressing against his neck as you urge him on. "it'll be so satisfying to see her reaction." your persuasive voice, like a seductive melody, resonates within him, compelling him to heed your advice. after all, you've always had a way of guiding him, of knowing what's best for him. you'd never purposefully lead him astray, would you?

with a nod, he relinquishes the phone to you, allowing his hand to roam freely over your waist as you take control of the conversation.

"hey..." you purr into the mic, your voice dripping with suggestive undertones, purposely provoking his girlfriend's anger. lewd squelches resonate within the mic. "what are you doing with my boyfriend?" she demands, her tone laced with indignation and betrayal.

"mmm~ just making him feel so much better than you ever could," you taunt, a smirk playing on your lips as you flip the camera on, revealing the debauched scene before her eyes. her shock is palpable as she witnesses your disheveled appearance, mascara streaking down your flushed cheeks, sweat glistening on your forehead, and drool cascading down your chin. your unrestrained moans and lewd gestures leave little to the imagination, igniting a firestorm of fury within her.

"fuck, gojo!!" you squeal, your voice echoing with unbridled desire as his relentless thrusts drive you to new heights of ecstasy. the camera captures every lewd detail, your drooling pussy on full display as his cock plunges deeper into your slick folds, each stroke pushing you closer to oblivion. your hole sucks his dick in, pussy lips milking every inch of him he offers.

"you're disgusting!!" his girlfriend's voice crackles with disdain, crumbling beneath the weight of betrayal and pure resentment. "i knew it from the beginning, i knew he was in love with you," she accuses, her words falling on deaf ears as you shamelessly clench around him, lost in the passion of the moment. satoru holds your waist firmly, using you like a fleshlight as he drives his cock into you with unrestrained abandon. his hips snap into yours with primal urgency, each thrust pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. your eyes roll to the back of your head, pink tongue lolling out sluttily.

"satoru... gonna cum!!!" you babble incoherently, your pleas fueling his own desire as he increases the tempo. "yeah, angel? gonna cream all over this cock again?" he groans, his voice thick with lust as he drives you both to the brink of release. "you think you deserve my cum?" he grunts, his words sending shivers down your spine as you cling to him desperately.

"please, 'toru, please, please, please..." you beg, your legs wrapping around him instinctively as the pleasure mounts to an unbearable peak. you both climax simultaneously, the intensity of your orgasms rippling through your bodies like an electric current. thick, hot spurts of his seed flood your womb, filling you to the brim as you convulse around him, your cries of pleasure mingling with his own guttural moans.

you see stars in your vision, crashing down into his arms as you whimper, clamping down on him. coming down from your highs, panting heavily, he withdraws from your throbbing cunt, his semen dripping out in thick globs, mingling with the remnants of your shared passion. your shared cum drips down onto the camera of his phone, his girlfriend cussing both of you out. as the phone call comes to an abrupt end, you collapse into his chest, breathing out heavily.

sloppily, your fingers wrap around his phone, licking his cum off of the camera. he enfolds you in his arms, his voice a gentle caress as he whispers softly, "you did so well for me, didn't you?" his lips press tenderly against your sweat-dampened forehead, and you melt into his embrace, feeling utterly spent yet entirely content. with a sense of satisfaction washing over you, you nuzzle into his cheek, savoring the warmth and security of his presence.

you've got him wrapped around your finger, he's finally all yours. a wave of smugness washes over you, a triumphant realization that he chose you over his now ex. and sure, you may have just lost a couple of friends, but it all pales in comparison to the fulfillment of being by his side. "love you, 'toru." you mumble softly, clinging onto him. a soft smile spreads on his face, stroking your back.

"love you too, angel."

© SUNTORU 2022-2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

“HEY, HEY, YOU, YOU, I DON’T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

“NO WAY, NO WAY, I THINK YOU NEED A NEW ONE!”

— SYNOPSIS: gojo’s stupid, stuck up bitch of a girlfriend has been ruining your very platonic friendship with him. he could do so much better… luckily for you, you get a chance to claim him back!!

— WARNINGS: afab! reader, porn with plot, dubcon to consensual, cheating (u r the homewrecker) + over the phone, voyeurism at the end (everyone’s toxic in this lmfao), squirting, unprotected sex, just the tip, swearing, spanking, back scratching, kissing, creampie, general unholy things, 5k words

— AUTHOR’S NOTE: DIES AND RUNS AWAY HELPPPPPP ME PLEASE MIGHT DELEYE LATER

you hate her. you hate her, you hate her, you hate her. who might you be talking about, exactly? gojo's... girlfriend.

ever since she entered his life, she's brought nothing but insecurity and tension. you seethe with resentment every time you see her, her presence a constant reminder of the barriers she's erected between you and satoru. she's like a thorn in your side, an unwelcome intruder in the bond you share with him.

and you've tried to tolerate her, you tell yourself, tried to give her a chance, but her snide remarks and controlling behavior only serve to fuel your distaste towards her. she's changed him, molded him into something lesser than what he once was, and it infuriates you to no end.

because of her, satoru's no longer permitted to late-night calls with you, she always has to be included in your hangouts, and even the innocent act of platonic cuddling has become taboo. all of it has been stripped away, replaced by her suffocating presence and incessant demands for attention. you hate her, loathe her for robbing you of the closeness you once shared with satoru, for injecting doubt and insecurity into the foundation of your friendship. she's trying to draw a line between you and him, but you refuse to accept it. she's bitchy, rude, and will never understand satoru the way you do. she's not right for him, you convince yourself.

he's not the same anymore. his smiles are strained, his laughter forced. exhaustion is etched into every line of his face, yet they remain together, and it infuriates you to no end. despite your best efforts to suppress it, the bitterness festers beneath the surface, poisoning your interactions with satoru and tainting his perception of your friendship. she's infected him, told him that you, the victim, were actively trying to seduce him. do platonic friendships just not exist anymore? and what's worse, he believed her over you. you can't help but resent her for coming between you and the person you care about most in the world.

but today is different. today feels like a stolen moment, a precious respite from the suffocating presence of satoru's possessive girlfriend. a sleepover with him, just the two of you alone. you had to lie, of course, that this would be a group hangout with shoko and geto, but then again, it's not the biggest of deals. after all, he was your best friend first, and then her boyfriend. that's the order of priorities things should be, right?

you relish the freedom of being able to spend time alone with him, unencumbered by her constant need for attention and validation. it's a rare opportunity to reconnect with the friend you've missed so dearly. despite the facade of innocence you wear, there's an undercurrent of anticipation coursing through you, a thrill at the prospect of having him all to yourself for the first time in what feels like ages. you can't help but feel a pang of guilt at the deception, but it's quickly overshadowed by the overwhelming desire to savor every moment with him.

after all, he's your best friend, and you'll do whatever it takes to protect your bond, even if it means bending the truth just a little.

as you slip into your chosen attire, (booty shorts and a see-through tank top), a sense of anticipation courses through you. this is your chance to reclaim some semblance of the closeness you once shared with satoru, free from the prying eyes and judgmental glances of his overbearing girlfriend. you're determined to make the most of this opportunity, to bask in his undivided attention without any unwarranted interference. the fabric clings to your curves in all the right places, eliciting a satisfied smirk as you catch your reflection in the mirror.

you know the effect it'll have on him, how his eyes will light up when he sees you, how his gaze will linger just a little longer than usual. you push aside any lingering doubts or guilt, reminding yourself that he's your best friend, and there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to look good for him.

you feel a surge of confidence wash over you, bolstered by the knowledge that you finally have him all to yourself. no more tiptoeing around his girlfriend's insecurities, no more censoring your words or actions to avoid setting her off. today is about you and satoru, reconnecting on a level that's been sorely lacking in recent months. your gaze flickers to the door of your apartment, anticipation bubbling within you. with deliberate care, you spritz your favorite perfume, relishing in its familiar scent.

as the door rings, and in the peephole you see a head of white hair, you run a hand through your own hair, ensuring every strand falls just right. opening the door, a wide smile graces your face.

"satoru!!" you exclaim, darting into his embrace, your body pressing against his. you've forgone wearing a bra today; those straps always annoyed you, you reason to yourself. not because you're trying to evoke a reaction, mind you. he notices, awkwardly patting your back while keeping a slight distance. you loathe it— the awkwardness that's settled between you two, all thanks to her. the old satoru wouldn't have batted an eye.

"hey, y/n," he greets, his tone lacking the endearments he once showered you with. not angel, or sweetheart, but y/n. it's almost like an insult. you fight the urge to dig your nails into your palms. confusion clouds his expression. "where's shoko? and geto? and everybody else?" he asks, scanning the empty apartment.

"oh... something came up, and they had to cancel,"

you fib, a pout forming on your lips. "but it's not weird that it's just us, right?" you tilt your head innocently, hoping he'll believe it. after all, he could never say no to you, could he? you catch the subtle flicker in his eyes as they dart towards the door, but to your relief, he nods slowly.

"...yeah. guess it could just be you and me," he agrees, his voice carrying a hint of hesitation. your heart flutters, and you flash him a radiant smile, your big doe eyes sparkling with anticipation as you gently tug him into your apartment. it's a familiar scene—the two of you alone together—but it's been so long that it feels almost nostalgic.

he groans softly as he kicks off his shoes, placing them right beside your heels, before sinking into the welcoming embrace of your couch. the soft cushion envelopes him as he lets out a contented sigh, a small smile playing on his lips. you fight the urge to climb into his arms like you used to, knowing all too well the reinforced "boundaries" he's imposed between you.

but it's okay, you tell yourself, because deep down, you know it's not him—it's his girlfriend who's pulling the strings, dictating his every move. she doesn't want him to be near you, because she's jealous of the relationship you have.

but today, she's nowhere to be found to intervene. so you decide to test the waters, just a bit. taking a seat on the couch right next to him, your side pressing against his, you observe his reaction. he doesn't make any move to shift away. good.

"wanna watch a movie?" you suggest, reaching for the remote control. with a nod, his gaze shifts from you to the screen as you pretend to randomly select a channel. of course, this was all planned beforehand, though not in a weird way— simply because you know him better than anyone else. his favorite horror movie pops up, and his eyes widen with interest as he stares at the screen in front of him.

while his attention is on the tv, yours is focused on him. snuggling up against his arm, you smile softly, feeling a rush of familiarity and warmth. you've missed this, missed him, and you're utterly determined to ensure that your bond remains strong, regardless of any external factors. as the horror movie plays out, you clutch his arm tighter, pretending to be scared at the brutal murder scenes as you bury yourself in his arm. he cocks his head, a soft smile on his lips as he ruffles your hair, slinking his arm around your shoulder.

"you're such a baby, y'know that?" he teases, his laughter filling the room as you frown up at him playfully. but deep down, you're elated, reveling in the closeness you share with him.

"'m not, 'toru!" you huff, sticking your tongue out at him in mock defiance. and for a moment, everything seems normal again, just you and him against the world. but it seems like suddenly he remembers he shouldn't encroach on any of his own boundaries, subtly pulling his arm back. huh? he's doing it again. it's annoying, how much he seems to be determined to be loyal, when the only person he should be loyal to is you. after all, who was there for him after every breakup? who was there when everybody else let him down? you. yet he's treating you like.... ...some stranger, like you're the problem, and you won't let it slide.

determined not to let the moment slip away, you decide to take it to the next level. grabbing the remote, you press pause right at the climax, his favourite part, eliciting an annoyed whine from him.

"what the—hey!" he protests, attempting to snatch the remote back. you giggle, shuffling back against the couch as he tries to snatch it from your hands. your back is pressed against the handrest of the couch, flailing around as you let out stifled giggles as he tickles your sides. you yelp as he pins you down across the couch, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips as he manages to snatch it from your grasp.

his limbs sprawl on top of yours, his knee just between your thighs, and his breath hitches, realizing how intimate the situation is becoming. the tv remote drops out of his hands, clattering on the floor, yet none of you reach down to pick it up. your eyes are boring into his, you can feel his hot breath on your face, his lips mere inches away from yours. and you can't resist the urge to close the distance, to see if he feels the same way. but his eyes widen, and he pulls back the slightest, just before your plush lips can touch his own.

"...we shouldn't be doing this..." he mumbles, trying to climb off of you. however, you refuse to let it end there, not when you're so close. your legs cages around his, pulling him back on top of you.

"do what?" you ask innocently, batting your eyelashes sweetly. "we're just having fun... right?" your nails caress his cheek, and he has to bite back a moan as you push your wet crotch against his knee, eliciting a strangled hiss from him. you've been acting so strangely ever since he introduced his girlfriend to you. normally, you'd never be so bold.

"...this isn't right," he mutters, as you blink up at him pleadingly. your hands trail down to his chin, cupping it gently. "she'll never find out... just one kiss, please?" you plead, your heart pounding with anticipation. and despite his morals, he finds himself folding fast, unable to resist the pull of your shared desires.

it's just you... right? his best friend. and... his girlfriend wouldn't know if nobody told her.

he struggles to convince himself it's not really cheating, rationalizing that you initiated it and he's just... letting you. your tongue slides into his parted mouth, and he releases a soft sigh of relief, surrendering to the moment. you teeth clash in a hungry, desperate kiss, each trying to consume the other entirely. it's a messy, tangled exchange, filled with raw desire as you straddle his lap, pulling him closer with a fervent urgency.

his hands grip your thighs, fingers kneading into the flesh of your ass, igniting a fiery sensation that courses through your body. the whole situation is undeniably fucked up, yet in the heat of the moment, neither of you can find it within yourselves to care. all that matters is that he's here, yielding to your advances, and you're determined to seize the opportunity.

with a swift motion, you peel off your shirt, revealing a perky pair of breasts that bounce enticingly as you discard your shorts, leaving you clad in nothing but anticipation. he finds himself staring; your cunt is sopping wet, staining the fabric of his pants.

trailing kisses down his neck, your hands hastily work to unbutton his shirt, exposing his chiseled abs to your eager gaze. his chest rises and falls rapidly, a testament to the intensity of the moment. pressing your crotch against his growing bulge, you tease him mercilessly, eliciting a guttural groan from deep within his throat.

"f-fuck..." he manages to utter, his head thrown back in a mixture of pleasure and torment. unable to resist any longer, you unzip his pants with eager hands, stripping him out of his boxers in one fluid motion. his erection springs free, standing tall and proud, flushed a pretty pink in response to your ministrations. the tip glistens with precum, a tantalizing invitation that you can't resist.

leaning in, you give it a teasing kiss, reveling in the way it twitches in response to your touch. his restraint is slipping, evident in the way he bites his lip so hard it threatens to bleed, his face flushed with arousal. you rub your slick all over his dick, coating it with your substances, watching him squirm as you continue to hump his member. he's cute, so effortlessly cute... a fat glob of precum drips out of his leaking, flushed tip. you stop shaking your hips for a moment, placing his length just below the entrance of your pussy, less than half an inch before it's actually in.

"whaddya say, 'toru?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction. "just the tip?" the air crackles with tension as you await his response, anticipation hanging heavy between you, poised on the precipice of forbidden desire.

he wants to say no, truly he does. but is it really cheating if it's just the tip? the thought swirls in his mind, clouded by the intoxicating haze of desire that surrounds him. It's been far too long since someone touched him with such fervent need, since he felt wanted in such a primal, undeniable way. his girlfriend's constant accusations, her nagging doubts, they've left him feeling starved for affection, for connection. and you, with your relentless passion, your shameless desire, you're like a flame drawing him in, igniting a hunger he can't deny.

"yeah," he breathes out, his hands gripping your ass possessively, a gentle pat radiating a sense of approval. you revel in his submission, in the knowledge that he's yours, if only for this moment. you know he's been deprived, desperate for the touch of another, and you're determined to show him just how much better you are.

with a teasing smirk, you lower your hips, allowing his mushroomed tip to slide into your eager cunt. both of you gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all. you're so sensitive, mewling at the mere contact of his head against your throbbing core. his brain fogs with pleasure, his cock twitching inside you as you roll your hips, riding the tip just as you promised. his tip, fat and fiery red is sucked into your folds oh so easily, throbbing and twitching cutely as your sweet cunt takes him so well. it brushes against your clit, sending a tingly feeling down your spine as you breathe out a mewl.

but it's not enough, not nearly enough. you want him all the way, every inch of him buried deep inside you, marking you as his. without warning, you brace yourself, sinking down on his cock, taking him in completely.

plunging his dick deep into your dripping pussy, a strangled mewl escapes your lips at the stretch, the burning sensation deliciously agonizing as you try to accommodate his size. he chokes back a guttural growl, his head thrown back in ecstasy as you clench around him, your tight heat enveloping him completely.

but he's too big, too thick, and you can't move your hips, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of his presence inside you. you swear you could climax from the sheer penetration alone, your clit throbbing with an insatiable need to be touched.

"s-satoru?" you whimper, uncertainty laced in your voice as you seek reassurance. for a moment, there's no response, and you peel open one eye, only to squeal in shock when he roughly slaps your tit, his lust-filled gaze piercing into yours. any lingering guilt, any thoughts of his girlfriend, they're all but forgotten now, replaced by a primal urge that consumes you both.

"fuckin' slut..." he growls, his voice rough with desire as he pulls his cock out of your sopping wet cunt, leaving just the head nestled within you before snapping his hips up, driving his dick so forcefully you see stars. "clamping down on me like some whore, is that what you are?" he taunts, his words fueling the flames of your desire even further.

"ah~ just for you, 'toru..." you babble helplessly, your voice laced with need as you cling to him desperately, your nails leaving faint traces on his back. he bites down on your shoulder, eliciting a sharp cry from you as pleasure courses through your veins, every sensation heightened by the intensity of the moment.

he knows it's not fair to compare, but the contrast is undeniable. you're so much tighter, so much more eager, as if your sole purpose is to satisfy him, and him alone. your grip on him is relentless, squeezing him like a vice, threatening to cut off his circulation. yet, in some twisted way, it feels right, as if he's found his rightful place within you, nestled snugly where he belongs.

"i'm gonna fuck you dumb," he growls, he promises, his words dripping with lust as he drives his cock deep into your core, each thrust kissing your cervix with a ferocious intensity. you stifle a sob, your eyes rolling back as you take him in fully, burying your face in his chest. the way he's gripping your hips, bouncing you on his length has your mind blurry, all you can think of is him. he feels intoxicating, like a drug coursing through your veins, leaving you addicted and craving more. you doubt sex with anyone else will ever compare to this, to the raw passion you share with gojo.

his fingers find your clit, flicking it and sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, causing you to buck your hips and sob out loud. you're a vision of ecstasy, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cling to him desperately, seeking validation in the midst of your pleasure.

"am i, hnngh~ better than her?" you manage to mumble between moans, your voice thick with desperation. you crave his affirmation, your need for validation driving you to new heights of arousal. you want proof that he prefers you, proof that you're his priority, proof that his girlfriend will always pale in comparison to you. his balls slap roughly against your ass as he pounds up into your womb ferally, one hand slapping your tits again with a loud thwack. at this rate, you'll burst any minute. he maintains his relentless pace, each thrust scraping against your walls in the most delicious way possible, molding your cunt to the shape of his dick, branding you as his own.

"haah, is that even a question?" he growls, his grip on your nipples tightening as your juices drip down his balls. "in every way." his words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a firestorm of pleasure within you. he's being honest too, your pussy lips are sucking him in deliciously, your nipples are so cute and sensitive, you look angelic on top of him. his favourite, you always were. you don't know how long he's been waiting to use you like his fleshlight. it's all too much, his praise feels so good, you can't hold it in any longer.

in response, you climax with a force that leaves you trembling, your essence coating his cock as you moan and writhe on top of him. you uncontrollably gush all over him, crying out in pleasure. he groans at the sensation, gathering some of your essence off his chest before offering it to you, his demand clear.

"suck," he orders, and you comply eagerly, lapping up the mixture of your combined juices with a hunger that borders on desperation. he pulls you into another sloppy kiss, his tongue dominating yours as you taste each other, saliva dripping down your chin as you break apart, panting for air.

"you're taking me so well," he coos, savoring every moment of your unraveling, your body yielding to his every thrust. the sight of you, utterly wrecked and undone for him alone, ignites a primal desire within him, fueling his relentless need to claim you completely. he revels in the subtle bulge his cock creates in your stomach, pressing down on it lightly. a whimper of embarrassment escapes you, only serving to further fuel his arousal.

your pussy, slick and inviting, grips him with an unquenchable hunger, driving him deeper into your cervix. each whimper and moan that escapes your lips sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his core, inflating his ego with every delicious sound of your surrender. despite his usual ability to prolong the moment, there's an urgency in his movements, a primal need to release and mark you as his own.

his thoughts turn increasingly perverse as he imagines you filled to the brim with his essence, your body overflowing with his hot, potent seed. the image fuels his lust, pushing him closer to the edge of control. your slick coating your inner thighs serves as a visual testament to the intensity of your shared passion, a physical manifestation of the ecstasy you both indulge in. sanity teeters on the edge as you both lose yourselves in the throes of carnal desire, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of pleasure.

his balls tighten, on the brink of releasing his hot load deep inside your eager womb, when suddenly, the intrusive sound of his phone interrupts the moment. with a muttered curse, he pauses his movements, his frustration evident as he glances at the caller id displaying 'lover' alongside a picture of him and that dumb blonde.

you roll your eyes in annoyance, knowing all too well how she always manages to ruin the most intimate moments. reluctantly, he answers the call, his tone strained as he attempts to maintain composure while continuing his thrusts. you stifle a moan as his cock pushes even deeper into your slick folds, one hand holding you in place while the other holds the phone to his ear.

"hey, baby... what's up?"

he manages, his voice strained with the effort of suppressing a growl, his hips still moving rhythmically against yours. her voice, as irritating as ever, filters through the speaker, laced with suspicion and annoyance.

"where are you?" she demands, her tone dripping with suspicion. "shoko said the group sleepover was cancelled, but you're still at y/n's house. what are you doing right now?" her interrogation sends a pang of annoyance through you, but you bite back any retort, reveling instead in the ring of your cream forming around the base of his cock.

"just watching a movie. i'll be back soon," he replies, his tone casual despite the tension in the room, his thrusts becoming a little too forceful as you muffle a quiet yelp. she falls silent, her suspicions clear. "what was that?" she presses, her tone growing more suspicious by the second.

"are you serious? that was just the movie," he retorts, frustration seeping into his voice as you clench down on him, urging him on. "again with this shit?" he groans, his irritation thinly veiling his true intentions. she's a bitch, an annoying skank who doesn't deserve satoru. but you do, because you're the one who makes him feel good. you're the one who actually cares.

that's why it's justified, why it's okay that you're fucking your best friend.

satoru winces as his girlfriend's shrill screams pierce through the phone, prompting him to pull it away from his ear and rub it gingerly. he responds by driving into you harder, his dick delving deeper into your dripping pussy.

"she's like, so whatever..." you moan, your voice filled with both pleasure and frustration as you bounce on his throbbing member, relishing in every inch of him. "you could do so much better... break up with her," you mewl, the urgency in your tone mirroring the intensity of your movements. for once, he actually considers it, swayed by the intoxicating allure of your words and the overwhelming desire you stir within him.

"you're not happy... i can do it better." you croon, your lips pressing against his neck as you urge him on. "it'll be so satisfying to see her reaction." your persuasive voice, like a seductive melody, resonates within him, compelling him to heed your advice. after all, you've always had a way of guiding him, of knowing what's best for him. you'd never purposefully lead him astray, would you?

with a nod, he relinquishes the phone to you, allowing his hand to roam freely over your waist as you take control of the conversation.

"hey..." you purr into the mic, your voice dripping with suggestive undertones, purposely provoking his girlfriend's anger. lewd squelches resonate within the mic. "what are you doing with my boyfriend?" she demands, her tone laced with indignation and betrayal.

"mmm~ just making him feel so much better than you ever could," you taunt, a smirk playing on your lips as you flip the camera on, revealing the debauched scene before her eyes. her shock is palpable as she witnesses your disheveled appearance, mascara streaking down your flushed cheeks, sweat glistening on your forehead, and drool cascading down your chin. your unrestrained moans and lewd gestures leave little to the imagination, igniting a firestorm of fury within her.

"fuck, gojo!!" you squeal, your voice echoing with unbridled desire as his relentless thrusts drive you to new heights of ecstasy. the camera captures every lewd detail, your drooling pussy on full display as his cock plunges deeper into your slick folds, each stroke pushing you closer to oblivion. your hole sucks his dick in, pussy lips milking every inch of him he offers.

"you're disgusting!!" his girlfriend's voice crackles with disdain, crumbling beneath the weight of betrayal and pure resentment. "i knew it from the beginning, i knew he was in love with you," she accuses, her words falling on deaf ears as you shamelessly clench around him, lost in the passion of the moment. satoru holds your waist firmly, using you like a fleshlight as he drives his cock into you with unrestrained abandon. his hips snap into yours with primal urgency, each thrust pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. your eyes roll to the back of your head, pink tongue lolling out sluttily.

"satoru... gonna cum!!!" you babble incoherently, your pleas fueling his own desire as he increases the tempo. "yeah, angel? gonna cream all over this cock again?" he groans, his voice thick with lust as he drives you both to the brink of release. "you think you deserve my cum?" he grunts, his words sending shivers down your spine as you cling to him desperately.

"please, 'toru, please, please, please..." you beg, your legs wrapping around him instinctively as the pleasure mounts to an unbearable peak. you both climax simultaneously, the intensity of your orgasms rippling through your bodies like an electric current. thick, hot spurts of his seed flood your womb, filling you to the brim as you convulse around him, your cries of pleasure mingling with his own guttural moans.

you see stars in your vision, crashing down into his arms as you whimper, clamping down on him. coming down from your highs, panting heavily, he withdraws from your throbbing cunt, his semen dripping out in thick globs, mingling with the remnants of your shared passion. your shared cum drips down onto the camera of his phone, his girlfriend cussing both of you out. as the phone call comes to an abrupt end, you collapse into his chest, breathing out heavily.

sloppily, your fingers wrap around his phone, licking his cum off of the camera. he enfolds you in his arms, his voice a gentle caress as he whispers softly, "you did so well for me, didn't you?" his lips press tenderly against your sweat-dampened forehead, and you melt into his embrace, feeling utterly spent yet entirely content. with a sense of satisfaction washing over you, you nuzzle into his cheek, savoring the warmth and security of his presence.

you've got him wrapped around your finger, he's finally all yours. a wave of smugness washes over you, a triumphant realization that he chose you over his now ex. and sure, you may have just lost a couple of friends, but it all pales in comparison to the fulfillment of being by his side. "love you, 'toru." you mumble softly, clinging onto him. a soft smile spreads on his face, stroking your back.

"love you too, angel."

© SUNTORU 2022-2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. // genshin men

➳ character/s featured: ayato kamisato, diluc ragnvindr, tartaglia, zhongli x f! reader

➳ unrequested | scenario // fluff

➳ TW: not proof-read

➳ summary: you and said character have started growing close, finally they open up to you about their personal life.

➳ AN: sorry for disappearing! part 2 with thoma, kazuha, albedo, and xiao here

—AYATO KAMISATO ; pillar of fortitude !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"ahh, the lady of the HIIRAGI clan. She is a very docile and graceful woman, she tends to be very efficient in her work which I am very thankful of. I admire her patience as well, in a recent work I've heard that a third-party intervened.. Let's just say they left with whispers of admiration about lady Hiiragi heheh"

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"ohh, my darling wife y/n.. you didn't know we were married? heheh, some things are just meant to be left unsaid until time is right. She is one of my greatest joys in life after a hard day at work. She always scolds me along with Ayaka whenever I overdo certain things.. What can I say? I'm a busy man after-all. I treasure her as much as I do with Ayaka, I'd fight heaven and hell over and over to protect them.. She doesn't deserve to be put against the dark abyss of this world, as her husband it is my duty to protect her.. Ahh I think I'm rambling, please forgive me."

AYAKA KAMISATO ; about Ayato's lover

"about y/n being my brother's wife? I'm so grateful that someone like her is around for my brother.. She always covers his blinds spots and takes care of him, he tends to be quite forgetful about his needs. She is like the older sister I never knew I needed.."

—DILUC RAGNVINDR ; the dark side of dawn !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"y/n.. one of the very few people I can trust."

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"There are very few people I trust with this information I hope you are smart, y/n is my fiance. Shocking? Me and her have always kept it a secret as a way to protect her from.. certain targetting. I tend to keep her away from Kaeya.. He can't be trusted with anything unlike y/n."

KAEYA ALBERICH ; about Diluc's lover

"oho? Diluc's fiance? She is indeed a treasure among Mondstadt.. She's the type to glow in a room full of people, very much the opposite of dear Diluc.. It never fails to amaze me just how he managed to be with a angel like her."

—TARTAGLIA ; childe !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"She is quite a handful in battle, always brimming with surprises. She's quite a joy to fight against, you might just learn something if you try it yourself, traveler!"

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"y/n is indeed my lover! my partner in crime.. my other half... nothing could ever compare to her. The joy and excitement she brings me is different from the adrenaline of duels.. yet it feels just as pleasurable. You know, my siblings just love her! Everytime I come home and she isn't with me, I become a punching dummy for the younger ones.. Sigh, they're not the only one devastated anyway. You heard about her being my lover from La Signora..?! Just another reason to steer clear of that woman. Hmph."

LA SIGNORA ; about Tartaglia's lover

"Oh? Childe's dear sweetheart? She is quite pleasant to talk to, unlike her lover.. She is quite thoughtful and caring, once when me and her were on the boat to Snezhnaya together, she had brought with her a coat for me, worrying for my wellbeing. Such a sweet and pure flower for a bloody blade like Childe."

—ZHONGLI ; vaga mundo !

TRUST LVL. 4 ; about y/n

"y/n? Another member of the funeral parlor. She is a lady with grace, a fine worker of the parlor indeed.. If you were to need help and I were not available, she'd be the best one to approach."

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about y/n, truth

"It seems as though you've learned the truth of y/n. It is true, she is indeed a God of Liyue, one of the last remnants of my early days... She is quite responsible for the beauty of flowers that bloom across these lands. I have been eternally grateful for her hard work all these years."

TRUST LVL. 6 ; about lover

"*sigh*, I will assume Hu Tao has given you this information. y/n is my wife, my prized gem.. I've sworn to do everything in my power to protect the last bit of Morax in my life. She is one who has witnessed the ugly and beauty of my actions all these years.. yet she still has chosen to stay by my side. I refuse to lose her, I would rather give up my power as an Archon than live a life without her."

HU TAO ; about Zhongli's lover

"y/n.. one of my best workers! She's a blast to talk to unlike Zhongli, though he scowls whenever I keep her from work with my rambling.. Ai-ya! Let me get you into a little secret, y/n is actually Zhongli's wife! Crazy right? I sometimes wonder that if I tried to be as patient and pristine as y/n.. maybe I'd get more customers?"

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