Personal Trainer Gojo

personal trainer gojo

short drabble ☆

nsfw ⚠️ mdni (creepy satoru is in the building)

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personal!trainer gojo who smirks when he sees you in your tight workout clothes

“you sure that’s your size?” the man asks, watching as you drop your bags on the floor. you roll your eyes, all too familiar with his behavior. satoru smirks, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. “i ain’t sayin’ shit if your pants rip.”

personal!trainer gojo who secretly takes pictures of your ass when you warm up

personal!trainer gojo who brushes himself against ass when you do squats

personal!trainer gojo who makes you do intense exercises so that he can see your boobs bounce

personal!trainer gojo who presses his hard cock against your body when you’re distracted

personal!trainer gojo who has his eyes on your juicy cameltoe more often than not

personal!trainer gojo who strokes his cock when your back is turned

precum beads on the head of his dick as he watches you. satoru thanks his lucky stars that you dress like such a slut around him. slowly, he slips his hand into his pants, desperately stroking his cock to the sight of your glistening body. “fuck, fuck,” he whimpers quietly, his hips bucking up into his hand. his breath catches in his throat as globs of cum gush into his pants. lord knows he feels like a damn pervert.

personal!trainer gojo who is a big fan of sexualizing your yoga poses

“just like that, good fuckin’ girl.” satoru coos, unable to hide his grin. he has you on your back, your legs pinned over your head. it’s hard to breathe, but you try to hold out for a few more seconds. satoru subtly rubs his dick against your clothed pussy, getting off to the sight of your juicy cameltoe.

personal!trainer gojo who stays quiet when your boobs slip out of your workout bra

personal!trainer gojo who spanks your ass and praises you at the end of the session

personal!trainer gojo who invites you to grab coffee with him

personal!trainer gojo who lets you ride him in the backseat of his car

your mouth drops open into an o shape as satoru drills into your pussy, the filthy sound of being pounded filling the car. his hands rest on your hips, forcing you to remain motionless as he fucks his needy cock inside you. “fuck, that’s it princess, scream f’me.” he pleads desperately, spanking your ass as you bounce on him. he captures your hard nipple in his mouth, sucking slowly as his tongue swirls around it.

with one last thrust into your dripping cunt, he throws his head back in ecstasy. his blue eyes roll into the back of his head as he empties his heavy balls into your pussy, ribbons of white painting your walls. his glassy eyes bore into yours, a charming smirk playing on his lips. “you down for more?”

kento nanami is a man of self-restraint.

your philosophy professor, a rather basic man, whom everyone normally thought was a lonely man because of his strict nature and consistently stoic expression, suddenly finds himself drawn to one of his students, you.

he couldn't seem to resist you. he knows it's wrong, still, he can't help but think that you're doing this on purpose.. the way you come to class all dolled up in a skirt too short to be deemed appropriate.

and when you sat down he almost always broke his composure since whenever you crossed your legs he'd catch a glimpse of what he'd be getting after class.

anybody could notice the way you two look at each other if they paid close enough attention. but of course, nobody ever did. the way your eyes flicker... it's undeniable.

kento nanami is a man of self-restraint.

he's a man of self-restraint up until that one day when you came to his class during office hours to ask for "help" on the essay he assigned during class.

the way your thighs squish together while your tight pink sundress began to bunch up your legs.

kento nanami was a man of self-restraint. until he realized you weren't wearing any panties. he studied you attentively as you read your rough draft to him. sighing while scrunching up your little nose because you were frustrated with the assignment.

he knew damn well you were lying because although you're a little airheaded, your essays never failed to amaze him.

you bit your lip, mesmerized by how he looked, slumped down in his brown leather chair. and he was doing the same to you.

you were taunting him, at least that was what he thought. the way the ends of your nails end up between your teeth while you watched him edit your draft, thighs clenched together and nipples hard because of the cold air.

he thinks that that was probably how you wound up clutching his desk for dear life, thighs trembling while his fingers thrust in and out of your soaked cunt.

you felt the cold metal of the wedding ring on his finger on your thigh, but you didn't care, and neither did he. fuck it. you worked for it. you deserved it. much more than his wife.

you've daydreamed about this moment constantly, eyes eagerly searching for his. don't get him wrong, he knows it's wrong. he knows he shouldn't initiate whatever "this" is with you. but somehow, he found himself pushing himself into your cunt.

you groaned, cheek resting on the cold wood of the desk as your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling, your nails made small scratchings into the wood while he forced himself in and out of you.

tears pooled on the surface of his desk, your mascara tinting your face with a black hue.

you mewl lewdly as he leans down to nibble on your ear, practically brushing against your back and pants in your ear. the sounds bouncing off the walls are obscene.

gasping, mere slapping noises, and his deep breaths send you into ecstasy. the kisses were chaste and gentle, compared to the inappropriate actions committed with each of his forceful thrusts.

you cried out as you creamed around his cock, cunt tightening around him, bringing him over the edge. he lets out an uneasy moan as he pulled out and released all over your back.

there was a brief moment of silence as the both of you came down from your highs, he was about to break the silence but his phone went off.

[ 1 new message]

honey, are you going to be working late again?

well, fuck.

taglist: @lickmyglockk @peachyminx

QUICKIE! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...toji just can’t keep his hands to himself after not fucking you for a week...which results in a quickie

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader and toji have kids, toji calls reader mama, doggy, groping, spanking, missionary (?), praise, cream pie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Hey do you have anything to wash?” You walked up to Toji holding the laundry basket in your hands as he played with your two kids.

He looked up at you from the floor. “Nah, I’m all set, mama.” He smiled, handing your son his favorite toy. With a nod, you walked away with the full basket, heading towards the laundry room. You sighed at the clean pile of clothes that you had to fold, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

You threw the dirty clothes in the wash before grabbing the detergent. You let out a small squeak at the feeling of your husbands hands snaking around your waist. “You scared me,” you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he responded, pulling you against his chest, sinking his head into the crook of your neck. He placed a small kiss on your skin, hands rubbing up and down your waist. “Should’ve asked me for help.”

You closed the detergent, placing it back on the shelf as you started the washer. “It’s fine, I got it,” you replied. Toji hummed in response, his hands moving lower and lower down your body. “Toji, what are you doing?” You giggled.

You tried to turn and face him but he kept you from doing so. “Uh uh, stay just like this for me,” he whispered. He pushed his hips against your ass, his cock semi-hard. “We haven’t been able to do anything for the past week. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little pent up, and you walking around with these shorts and tank top isn’t helping one bit.” He smacked your ass before giving it a harsh squeeze.

You bit down on your bottom lip, feel him grow more hard as you moved your against him. It was true, you and Toji haven’t had sex in the last week or so. Both of you so tired from work and the kids, running errands, it always got in the way of your sex life. You hadn’t really thought about it much before, but now that Toji brought it up, you were feeling quite pent up too. “So, what’re you gonna do about it, hm?” You asked, teasingly.

A low chuckle left his lips, his fingers grazing over your skin, making their way under the fabric of your clothes. His hands came up to your chest, cupping your tits and squeezing them, groping them. Your skin started to heat up and arousal pooled in your panties. Just his touch alone was enough to get you all hot and bothered. “We gotta be quick.” He hurriedly bent you over the washer, a swift hand pulling your shorts and underwear down. “I’ll never get tired of seeing this ass…fuck,” he groaned. He palmed himself through his sweats, admiring the view of your dripping cunt.

Toji wasted no time in pulling his sweats and boxers down, cock springing free and leaking pre cum. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, mixing his arousal with yours. He could already feel how warm and wet you were, cock throbbing at the thought, anticipating how you feel around him. Slowly, his head pushed past your entrance, your lips wrapping around him, sucking him in. “Ohhh fuck, baby—mmm shit,” he breathed. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back on him, going deeper to reach your sweet spot.

“Ah, oh my god.” The stretch was so deliciously intoxicating, sending your brain into a spiral and he’s barely moved yet. “Baby, we gotta be quick, please,” you begged, afraid that one of the kids might knock on the door and interrupt. You felt him thrust slowly, letting you get used to the feel of his cock before going any faster.

“Shhh, it’s fine. They’re watching a movie.” He began pulling you back against his hips so you met his thrusts, your walls clenching around him each time he threatened to pull out. “This pussy is so wet for me, goddamn,” he grunted, moving faster.

“F-fuck!” You stammered, feeling how hard and fast he was going. “Feels so fucking good!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hands gripping onto the edges of the washing machine as you tried to hold yourself stable. “Nnngh! You’re so deep! Oh my god!” You squealed.

Toji pulled you up, your back pressed against his chest as he continued to pound into you. “Shh, mama. I know it feels good, but you gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” He placed his hand over your mouth, his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Ohh fuck yes. Shit, this pussy feels so fucking good.”

Your muffled moans fell upon deaf ears, your legs felt like they were jelly. Pleasure clouded your mind, all you could think about was him fucking you until you came over and over again. Suddenly, he stopped. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and lifting you on top of the washing machine. He pulled you close to the edge, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Both watched as he slowly slid back inside, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he felt you wrap around him again. “Look at me, don’t take your eyes off me,” he demanded.

You stared back at him with lustful eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fought so hard to hold back your moans and whimpers. Your brows furrowed in pleasure, feeling how close you were to cumming. Your jaw dropped, head falling back as he grazed over your g-spot. “Oh fuck you’re gonna make me cum!” You cried, gasping for air. “Fuck! Fuck! Baby!” You whimpered.

“I know, mama. Let it all out for me. Cum on this dick.” He kept his pace the same, feeling you clench around him, a sign you were close. His hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, tongues messily moving against each other as he swallowed your moans. Finally, the coil snapped. You pulled away from the kiss, eyes rolling back, body quivering as you came. Toji covered your mouth again, muffling your curses and moans. “There you go, that’s my good fucking girl.”

He pulled his hand away, staring back at you with half lidded eyes, loving the cum drunk look written all over your face. “Cum in me,” you spoke.

“But, your not on—”

“I don’t care, cum in me,” you said with desperation.

“I fucking love you,” he chuckled with a smile, his thrusts growing sloppier. He was fixated the way his cock disappeared in you, each time he pulled back out he could see your cum at the base. It only drove him more crazier. “Nnngh, ah! Oh, baby I’m gonna cum!” His hips stuttered against yours before he buried himself deep inside of you, feeling him coat your walls with his sticky cum. “Fuck!” He grunted. “Ah, yes!” He breathlessly chuckled.

“I think we both needed that,” you laughed.

“I agree.” He smiled, pulling you closer to place his lips on yours. He slowly pulled out, his cum slowly dripping out of you. “We made quite a mess.” He looked down between your legs and then back up at you.

“We’ll clean it up—”

A knock on the door startled both on you, thankfully Toji had locked the door. “Mommy, daddy, the movie is over! We wanna watch another!”

“It’s your bedtime, sweetheart! Maybe tomorrow!” Toji shouted back. Both of you looked at each other, sharing a few seconds of silence before laughing. “I think we might have to start doing quickies more often, yeah?” He whispered.

“Once you put the kids to sleep, meet me in the shower.” You kissed his lips, entangling your fingers in his hair.

“I just can’t get enough of you, mama.”

I couldn't resist posting this random thought while on hiatus, but here I go.

Just imagine married man Gojo smashing he baby mother who he cheated with on his wife.

It wasn't a mistake, but at the same time, it wasn't supposed to happen that way. It was only one time, a night drunk off ecstacy and pure lust, you found yourself locked up in the arms of a man you knew you should not be mingling with. That's how you ended up with his 7 month old baby.

He's married man, with a beautiful wife and an eight year old son. He was a loving man respected by his peers, loved by his peers until he announced that he knocked up "a" girl who worked in a diner at the far side of town.

Just as mentioned, it wasn't supposed to happened but it did, and now the baby's here and every so present in the life he has with the wife. People hoped that maybe, just maybe Gojo would've come to his senses and may change for the better.

But a leapord never changes it spots. You can't teach an old dog new tricks because as soon as you gave birth or even before you gave birth to your child, Gojo was living in your home, in womb day and night, feeding you with nothing but your cravings and that includes his cock. Not that you mind, even though his peers and his wife called you a home wrecker.

You never asked for this. As a matter of fact, Gojo chased you for months before he finally got to taste what between your legs, and once you gave it up to him, he just couldn't leave your side.

Besides, how could you possibly turn down the opportunity to be a rich man's sugar baby, married or not? You loved the money, the spoils (and also his dick).

What's a rich married man without a sugar baby hm. You loved it, though you know it's not a good look for you. But who cares? It's your life.

And despite the warnings you receive about mingling in a married man's affair, you're still there ever so present with him baby at your side, his arms around your shoulders and his lips against yours, kissing you as though his wife was watching you from across the room.

Oh yes, he does that. Inviting you out to events, flaunting that new designer dress and shoes, in front of his friends and colleagues, smiling ever so happily while holding your baby, his baby on your hip, just letting them know that you're not going anywhere soon.

Especially now that you're the mother of his second child, maybe even third, considering that he's currently pounding away at your sweet little cunt. Locked up in his bedroom at the west wing of his home, the Gojo estate. You're desperately throwing your hips back at him, tits heavy and filled with milk slapping harshly against your chest with each thrust.

And you're screaming, crying, from pleasure, thanking yourself for leaving your baby to sleep in the east wing with Gojo’s grandma while Gojo fucked the shit of you in the west. So mesmerized by the sight of your leaking nipples, Gojo pulled you up by your arms, his chest glat against your back and his arms draping over your chest to keep you pressed tightly against him as he continued to dig you out the right way.

So lost in pleasure, and calling him daddy desperately begging him to fill you up with his seed. His wife came bursting through the door, eyes bloodshot, hair a tangled mess, and oh that reeking odor. Alcohol? Whatever it is, it stinks? But that didn't stop Gojo from pounding into you. I'd anything he smirked at her, slow his thrust while squeezing you milk filled breast to poke at her. And boy did he poke at her good. She was flaring...

She stood their for a while, watching as Gojo fucked you in a way he had never fucked her. I'm jealous at how well you are taking his cock deep inside your pussy. She watched you both for a while until Gojo spoke, "what wanna fuck her too wife? I know she's hot... hotter and tighter and wetter than you could ever be. Wanna know what a wet pussy is supposed to feel?"

“WHERE IS MY WIFE?”

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: curses & curse users have discovered satoru’s greatest weakness, and it’s you, satoru’s sweet, ordinary housewife. after getting kidnapped by gojo’s enemies, he’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ only - mdni - slightly dark content // brief smut, fem reader, feral gojo, canon-typical violence, reader gets kidnapped, reader is wounded/has injuries, angst, fluff/comfort

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5K

♡ —𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I’d count grains of sand if it meant I could spend one minute alone with feral gojo (:

As evening fell, and after a delicious dinner was eaten at the dining table downstairs, Satoru was in the mood for something else now — you.

His pretty housewife would be his dessert.

The apple pie you baked was sitting on the dark marbled counter of the kitchen island, two big slices missing — and the vanilla ice cream tub in the freezer had, of course, two hefty spherical digs in it where the cold treat was scooped out — but, even after his stomach was stuffed after a hard day of fighting curses and teaching his students, Satoru’s head was buried in between your soft thighs, satisfying his other craving.

As your husband moaned softly, his tongue danced around your aching clit. His large hand massaged your thigh. The moonlight pouring in through the big bedroom window shined upon his wedding ring, making it glisten as he rubbed your delicate skin.

“I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” Satoru smiled a bit, his warm breath patting against your wet folds.

“You were made just for me. God, I love it. I love you.”

Two long fingers sunk into your awaiting hole. He attached his soft lips to your clit, sucking on it.

One of your hands gripped at the luxurious pale-cerulean sheets, while your other hand gripped his hair, fingers getting lost in his white locks.

“Satoru!” A sharp moan escaped your dried throat.

Every little noise you made — every moan, every squeak of the thick mattress — it all boasted his desire to please you.

He didn’t stop his licking-sucking-fingering combo until your legs were trembling around his head and he was satisfied with tasting your juices.

Only after devouring your pussy like a starving man feasting on a buffet-style dinner did he rise from his position and make his way across the bed, hovering over you.

With a smile, Satoru leaned down and planted a soft kiss against your lips. But, when he pulled away, he was met with an amused look of disgust.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, furrowing his brows a bit.

“You just kissed me after eating me out,” you said with a little, playful grimace. “That’s nasty.”

“Mrs. Gojo, I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but hush.” Satoru lightly tapped your forehead. “You have swallowed plenty of my-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” shaking your head, you cut off your husband’s naughty sentence, pressing your hand against his lips.

The corners of your mouth burned as you tried to fight off a smile. His latest affectionate nickname was Mrs. Gojo — although it truly wasn’t a nickname due to it technically being your name now — and at every given opportunity, he addressed you that way.

Even after two years of marriage, he was as excited as a freshly wedded man. Your love was a never-ending honeymoon.

You stared into Satoru’s striking blue eyes. He darted his gaze across your gorgeous face, illuminated by the moonlight, and as you ran your fingers through his white hair and he ran his thumb across your cheek, both of you close enough to feel the gentle pats of each other’s breaths on your mesmerizing faces, you both fell in love with each other just a bit more — if that was even possible.

“Can I fuck you now?”

Satoru’s question made a sudden chuckle spilled out from between your lips. He couldn’t help but laugh too.

“You’re a buffoon. I’m trying to admire your beauty and that’s what you open your mouth to say?” You playfully frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a human being call another human being a buffoon out loud before.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes humorously. “We need to do our skincare routine first. We have to do it an hour before we go to bed or else we might just rub all the product off. I read that somewhere.”

“Why didn’t we do it before we got into bed in the first place?” Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck, pouting, but taking a moment to press a little kiss onto your skin.

“Because you were acting as if you were dying of poison and eating me out was the antidote, so I forgot.” you giggled softly.

“Fine, fine,” your husband slowly rolled off of you in defeat. “Skincare routine, nothing more. Please don’t start trying to organize the bath towels.”

“I’m not making any promises,” you said, getting out of bed and following Satoru into the master bathroom.

There, you and your husband stood in front of the big mirror, cleansing and moisturizing your skin as you both chatted about his students, a movie you watched three days ago, and your breakfast plans in the morning.

And it was those sweet little moments that made Satoru’s heart skip a beat. As he flickered his eyes over to your reflection, watching your smother smooth white cream all over your face as you rambled on about a new egg recipe, he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved you.

—

6:00 A.M.

That night ended with soft sex and gentle kisses.

That morning, Satoru’s white eyelashes fluttered open to the early morning sun starting to rise, casting rays through the drawn window curtains and across his comforter.

He squinted his eyes and yawned.

Typically, he was the sort of man who would never wake up at the ungodly hour if he could help it, but the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling eggs had traveled from the kitchen downstairs to right underneath his nose.

Tossing on his blue houseboat, the grumpy-faced man dragged himself into the kitchen, greeting you with a slightly gruff morning voice and a messy head of hair.

“Good morning, baby,” Satoru walked around the kitchen island and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “How’d you sleep? I had a nightmare.”

With a spatula in one hand, you flipped the omelet in the skillet on the six-burner stove. With the other hand, you rubbed his arm, enjoying the warmth his hovering hug had brought.

“I slept alright,” you said. “Did the smell wake you up?”

“Always does,” he smiled lazily although you couldn’t see it.

“Well, your drink’s ready,” you gave a nod in the general direction of the silver espresso machine, which hummed as it brewed Satoru’s steamy beverage.

“I don’t deserve you,” Satoru’s arms hugged you tighter, and he showered the side of your head with kisses.

“Stop it,” your sweet laughter only egged him on as you clenched the spatula and leaned back against him even more. “No fooling around when we’re this close to the stove.”

Satoru eventually backed away after giving you one final kiss against your forehead temple.

“If all goes well, I should be back home tomorrow before dark, then we can check out that new restaurant. What do you say? I personally think it’s time for a date.”

The image of you and Satoru sipping on wine and as you wore your favorite dress flashed in your mind, and you smiled. A date night was certainly something to look forward to in light of Satoru’s overnight trip.

Sorcering duties had often taken him on distant work trips. Truth be told, you were lucky his departure would only last around twenty-four hours and not twenty-four days. Although you missed him whenever he would leave, you understood his choice of career. He was a hero.

You happened to be an ordinary human being. You couldn’t see curses. You couldn’t use cursed energy or cursed techniques, but you were fine with that.

“A date sounds fun! I’m excited now.” You took the omelet out of the skillet and placed it on a nearby plate. “And we’re making time to try out that new pottery class too. It sounds like such a cute date idea, don’t you think so?”

“I’m with you. I’ll make the reservations for the restaurant, you can schedule us for pottery-making.” This time, he was the one blissfully picturing you and him spinning messy clay with him sitting behind you and reaching around your body for the pottery wheel, your fingers intertwined as you both created a pot. Satoru smiled at the thought. “Anyway, now that you’re done cooking, can I kiss you?”

You nodded with a cheeky grin, and your husband pressed his lips against yours sweetly.

It was as if some part of him was frightened that he would never get the opportunity to kiss you again.

—

8:37 P.M.

The bright light far above your head flickered briefly as you stood in the pasta aisle at your local grocery store, but you hadn’t noticed it, too fixated on the different brands of spaghetti noodles lying on the shelf above you.

Shopping at night wasn’t preferable, but only after tossing together a simmering pan of sauce did you realize you hadn’t started boiling your noodles yet.

And, with your pot of simmering water ready, you opened the cabinet to see no noodles.

So, here you were, making a last-minute, unplanned trip to the grocery store.

By now, the only sort of pasta noodles left were the ones that a person of average height couldn’t reach. Every box was too high.

You turned your head to the left and to the right.

You even bothered to walk down a few aisles to search for an employee or anyone who might have been tall enough to reach your needed item, but the only other person staggering around was an older blonde-haired woman who was shorter than you were.

Frowning in frustration, you returned to the pasta aisle.

If you had to climb the shelves, so be it.

Suddenly, a kind voice spoke over the calming public-friendly background music playing softly in the store.

“Need some help?”

Whipping your head around, you saw a person — a taller person, thank goodness — who had a smile that was just as sweet as his voice.

“Yes, thank you!” You found that his grin was rather contagious, as you ended up smiling as well. “I just need the spaghetti noodles on the top shelf. Any brand will do.”

The beaming man with long, dark hair stepped forward, and you moved to the side, letting the apparent hero save your day.

He pulled down your desired spaghetti noodles with ease.

“Thanks for your help. My spaghetti sauce won’t go to waste now,” you said politely.

Your eyes darted up to the stitched scar across his forehead, then quickly, you glanced away.

“You’re welcome. Have a good night.”

The man walked down the aisle and left.

There was something familiar about him, oddly enough.

That hair . . . that smile . . .

He reminded you of an old, deceased friend of Satoru’s, one that you hadn’t ever met due to his villainous behavior before his death, but you had seen an old picture of him that he and your husband took during their second year at Jujutsu High, years ago.

As you placed the pasta noodles into your cart, making your way around different aisles to collect a few more items since you were already at the store, you decided that you’d take another look at that photograph once you arrived home, just for peace of mind.

The brown paper bag stuffed with groceries felt rather heavy as you walked down the street, which was brightened by light pouring out of the windows of local businesses that hadn’t yet closed.

You sighed softly.

The dark sky was sparkling with stars. The air was cool and comforting. Soon, you’d have pasta, and perhaps, you’d watch a few episodes of your favorite binge-worthy Netflix show.

If only Satoru was with you.

Chatting with him on the phone a few hours ago only made you miss him even more, but, at least his trip would be a quick one, and soon, you could have dinner with him and listen to his hilarious commentary as you watched television together.

After walking for around five minutes, you were no longer close to the local businesses that made you feel a sense of comfort during your evening stroll.

Now, you had to rely on the occasional streetlight to guide you home.

But that cold air was no longer comforting. It was a chilling breeze that made you clench your grocery bag a bit tighter.

Your footsteps suddenly halted — you could hear something moving in the nearby bushes.

Turning around, you were greeted with nothing but darkness and streetlights. No one else was with you. You kept walking.

However, something wasn’t right.

You might not have been a sorcerer, but you weren’t a fool.

And you had a gut-wrenching feeling that right now, as your wobbly legs guided you home, you were being watched.

You heard that noise again.

The grocery bag crinkled against your chest. You were certain that the bread you purchased was squished by now. If someone was following you, did you really want to unintentionally lead them to your home?

Where should you go? What should you do?

A tear rolled down your cheek from fear.

You were scared. You only wanted to go home, finish your pasta, and watch television.

You didn’t want to deal with such a potentially terrifying situation.

Pulling out your phone, you opened your dial screen.

Your trembling thumb hovered over the buttons, but before you could press anything, a black, disfigured curse appeared in front of you, screeching loudly enough to make you drop everything in your hands and cover your ears, more tears falling as the horrifying monster started to charge at you.

You tried to run in the other direction, but it was too late.

The last thing you saw before you were engulfed by darkness was that man from the grocery store standing on the sidewalk, that same sweet smile on his familiar face.

—

12:27 A.M.

Satoru’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, as he had spent most of the night tossing and turning because you weren’t lying next to him. But, apparently, he did manage to catch a couple of hours of shut-eye.

When he awakened, there was a terrible ache in his heart. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, and beads of sweat decorated his forehead. His throat was dried to a crisp.

He was all alone in his dark hotel room.

He couldn’t hear you.

He couldn’t see you.

And yet, somehow, someway, thanks to his great power, he knew that his wife was calling for him.

—

The overwhelming scent of old, wet, musky wood and dust would never be forgotten by your memory. A lifetime of therapy would never be able to erase the paralyzing fear you felt, sitting on the cold, hard ground of an abandoned cabin with your hands bound behind your back.

Maybe the fear wasn’t completely paralyzing, though. Your body seemed to tremble with terror just fine.

The sight of it made Suguru Geto — no, Kenjaku chuckle.

He kept his eye on you for no other reason besides his entertainment, as watching you himself was pointless considering he had two frightening curses looming over you.

Once, Satoru shared a fun fact with you: regular human beings cannot see curses unless they are about to die.

That fact was certainly interesting when the two of you were strolling through the beautiful park, a red and white striped blanket in your hand and a picnic basket in his. But, now, that fact only made sweat drip off of your scarred forehead, because you could see the two, black, disfigured curses.

It was a telltale sign that you could die.

“I haven’t had the displeasure of meeting him myself,” Kenjaku suddenly spoke, relaxing in a chair he had positioned a few feet away from the corner you were trapped in. “But I have seen memories of Satoru Gojo that belonged to this body I’ve inhabited. And, I must say, I couldn’t imagine that his wife would be such a weakling. It’s truly pathetic.”

Even if you wanted to reply to him, fear had snatched away your ability to speak. It created a lump in your throat that couldn’t be swallowed down.

“My best guess is that he needs someone boring and ordinary in his life to keep house while he’s busy saving the world. You’re just the cook and maid with a ring on her finger, hm?”

“He loves me.”

Your voice was small — it was a painfully perfect reflection of how you felt on the inside. Weak and pathetic.

“Oh?” Kenjaku raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. “Believe it or not, I hope you’re right, or else kidnapping you was a waste of time.”

Your chains rattled as you shifted in your spot on the floor, scooting as far into the corner as you could get. An ache shot up your spine from the wall pressing into your back. Pulling your knees to your chest, more tears slipped from your eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry,” he falsely cooed. “Surely you’ve wondered why the world’s strongest sorcerer would settle for someone who forgets to double-check all of their ingredients before they start cooking, haven’t you? It’s not because of love, or anything of the sort. It’s because those who are deeply insecure would do anything to please anyone who looks their way. Only an ordinary, desperate housewife with low self-esteem and no ambition would waste time caring for a man who risks his life saving strangers. What would make you think he cares for you when he spends more time with curses than his own wife? Helping strangers more than his own family? Think about it.”

Kenjaku’s hurtful words were met with silence, but he didn’t stop speaking.

“I bet you’re nothing but a burden to him. Someone like him probably hates being tied down, but marrying a fool who contributes nothing to society is the only way he can get someone else to handle his laundry while he’s busy working hard, hm? He must carry around divorce papers, ready to serve them to you the day you forget to buy detergent from the grocery store.” Kenjaku’s smile brightened. “Oh, that reminds me. You dropped your detergent and other groceries on the road earlier, by the way. Looks like you’re useless now.”

“You . . .” your teary eyes flickered from him to the hovering curses. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of that’s true.”

“You have to believe that I’m speaking honestly, Y/N.” Kenjaku sighed with fake sincerity. “My entire plan rests on the hope that Satoru Gojo is foolish enough to try to rescue you. You see, when you want to lure someone out, the proper way to do it is by discovering their weaknesses. When I found out about you, I was hoping that you would be his weakness. That I could use you to lure him out. Then I met you, and, well, you’re simply disappointing. Sorry to break it to you, but I have memories of the old conversations Satoru used to have with Suguru, and being tied down to a powerless housewife was certainly not how he imagined his future. But, I figured I’d try anyway, and so here you are, and he’s not here to rescue you. What a shame. I bet he’s hoping I’ll kill you so he’ll be free.”

He was lying. He had to be. Satoru loved you more than anything . . . right?

The thought had crossed your mind before; why did Satoru want to be with someone powerless? And this villain’s plan to lure out your husband relied on his hope that he’d come to rescue you out of love, so how would it benefit him to convince you Satoru didn’t love you?

Maybe he was right.

After all, if Satoru cared for you, he would have saved you by now. Where was he?

You couldn’t help but cry even harder.

“Please let me go home,” your tears clouded your vision. “Please let me go.”

“Well, you should know that I hate wasting time,” Kenjaku rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow pressing into the arm of the chair he sat in. “I can’t let you leave. I won’t let the effort I put into kidnapping you be a total waste.”

Kenjaku’s smile widened, and suddenly, the curses started to move towards you.

—

1:45 A.M.

The subway station was isolated. No ordinary human beings were lurking around, and Satoru was relieved. Right now, he’d kill anyone who looked at him the wrong way.

His shoes gently shuffled against the ground as he made his way into the middle of the big, bright opening, and he clenched his fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palm, hard enough to draw blood.

Two special grade cursed spirits emerged. He recognized them both from a previous fight in the woods.

Volcano head. Asparagus.

“Satoru Gojo,” Jogo suddenly said. “We didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to-”

“Where is my wife?”

When Satoru interrupted the curse, his voice was low. Dark. Startling.

Blood dripped from his palms and splattered onto the ground.

“I was drawn here, but she isn’t here, is she? Where is she? Tell me now, and I’ll kill you quickly instead of slowly.”

Jogo chuckled a bit. Satoru dug his nails into his palm even more.

“Bring us the vessel, Yuji Itadori, and we’ll return that worthless-”

The two curses didn’t have time to blink — weren’t able to register in their minds that Satoru had moved from his previous spot until Jogo was lifted off of the ground and thrown into the flickering light fixture above, shattering it and causing sparks to rain down onto the ground below, where he then fell.

Satoru stepped on Jogo’s head, squishing it underneath his black shoe.

“I remember you. You’re stubborn, right?” Satoru gritted his teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are to take her from me? Whoever you work for must want you dead if they’re stupid enough to send you on a suicide mission. You think I’ll let you leave here alive after this?”

“If you kill us, you’ll never see her again,” the other cursed spirit, Hanami, suddenly spoke up. “Bring us the vessel, and she lives.”

When Satoru suddenly stopped moving, it was only to ensure that he had heard the cursed spirit correctly.

“Did you just threaten . . .” Satoru removed his blindfold, “to kill my wife?”

It was only a matter of time before the branches attached to Hanami’s head were ripped out, and Jogo was beheaded. The subway was reduced to nothing except crumbling walls and darkness. While the cursed spirits were teetering dangerously between life and death, there wasn’t a scratch on Satoru. Instead, there was a smile.

This was simply the consequence of their actions. This was what happened to anyone who laid a hand on his girl.

Hanami’s body was on the brink of collapse as it was forced to come in contact with Satoru’s cursed technique — a blue shield-like piece of infinity that distorted and manipulated both time and space, protecting the sorcerer from attacks and rendering Hanami powerless.

Hanami’s eyes darted over to their beheaded ally — they couldn’t help him.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Satoru’s eyes widened. His smile grew. He slowly turned, facing Hanami, and blasted him back against the nearest wall without lifting a finger. “Where is my wife?”

—

2:39 A.M.

Kenjaku had never understood the concept of love, and, perhaps, that was why he failed.

Satoru’s love for you was his weakness, that was true, but it also turned out to be his greatest strength, and this was a fight Kenjaku couldn’t win.

Not today.

One of his curses, which had been traveling to and fro to observe what was currently taking place in the subway station and reporting it back to Kenjaku, had informed him that Jogo and Hanami were on the brink of death.

He couldn’t lose them yet. They were too powerful, and he needed their help for his future plans.

Kenjaku left the cabin, taking his curses with him.

And, without their cursed energy purposely making it difficult for Satoru to find you, he was able to pinpoint your exact location.

It appeared in his powerful mind as he was ripping Hanami apart limb by limb, and he wasn’t a fool. He didn’t know who was behind all of this, but it was clear that the mastermind had suddenly decided to let your whereabouts be tracked down in order to save Hanami and Jogo.

He didn’t want to make that deal. He wanted to kill these two, bring them back to life, and kill them over again. Their pain brought him joy, all because they took part in your capture.

But Satoru didn’t want his bloodlust to backfire. After all, if he killed the cursed spirits now, the person who held you captive could change their mind and move you someplace else and hide your location yet again, or, worse — they could kill you.

That wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

Satoru stopped using his technique. But, as he left the subway station, he promised himself that eventually, he would kill those two. He would kill anyone and everyone involved.

But you came first.

You would always come first.

—

He found you.

When Satoru kicked open the door belonging to a raggedy, abandoned cabin, the scent of blood overwhelmed him. It dirtied his boots as he kneeled by your side. Your unconscious, bleeding body was lying there, simply left on the ground as if you were nothing.

“Y/N . . .” Satoru called out breathlessly.

He took the chains off of you instantly, his bloodshot eyes darting over every gaping wound.

It was indescribable — the anger he felt. He wanted to return to the subway and finish off those cursed spirits, to make them suffer and suffer and suffer.

But tending to you took priority right now. Satoru scooped up your broken and bruised body, holding you as softly as he could. A tear fell from his eye, splattering against your cheek.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he spoke gently.

Your eyelids fluttered as you awakened. An overwhelming sense of pain slammed into you once you regained consciousness, and hot tears streamed down your cheeks. Prior to this, the only pain you had ever known was the wholesome body ache from tripping and falling while playing outside with your friends as a child. But this level of misery took away your ability to speak. Left you wondering if you were going to die.

You could make out stains of your blood on Satoru’s clothes.

Even so, you could tell based on the pained look on his face that he was suffering even more just from seeing you in such a condition.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbled, slowly getting off the ground as he carried you. “This is all my fault. They did this to you because of me. I’m so sorry.”

Satoru raised you a bit, gently pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

He’d give anything to switch places with you right now — to be the one in unspeakable pain. Why couldn’t they have kidnapped him? Tortured him? If he had the power to take away your suffering and give it to himself, he would. For you, not only would he kill, but he’d die, repeatedly and without a second thought or a moment of hesitation.

As Satoru took you to the nearest hospital, his tears spilling onto your body, he said, “We’re almost there, okay? I promise I’ll make them pay for this, and no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”

Arriving into the uncomforting white halls of the emergency room, Satoru handed you off to the nurses and doctors who rushed up to him. But, before they placed you on the nearest stretcher, Satoru kissed your forehead once again as unconsciousness claimed you, and he whispered, “I love you, Y/N.”

—

10:02 A.M.

Two days later, you awakened in a hospital bed. This time, pain didn’t greet you, but grogginess and blurred vision. The gentle beeps from the nearby machines certainly didn’t help your pounding headache.

Your sight started to clear up after blinking a few times.

Soft strands of hair tickled your arm, and when you looked to your left, you saw Satoru slumped in a chair, his head resting in his arms on the side of your bed. You reached over and ruffled his messy white hair a bit.

He shot up, startled. His blue eyes were wide with alarm, then they softened with gratefulness, but, lastly, they darted down with sorrow.

“Y/N . . . thank god, you’re awake.” Satoru croaked out in his morning voice, clearing his throat a bit. He was dehydrated — too focused on your recovery to worry about himself. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so . . .”

Satoru got out of his chair, sat on the side of your bed, and leaned over, resting the side of his head against your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled weakly. “It’s mine.”

Satoru pulled his head away from you, staring at you with furrowed brows and a confused gaze.

“What? No, it’s not.”

You couldn’t find the courage to look him in the eye. Kenjaku’s words replayed in your mind. They hurt just as much as getting attacked by curses.

As if reading your thoughts, Satoru cupped your chin, turning your head back in his direction.

“Look at me,” he said. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t care if you can’t fight curses-”

“You’re just saying that . . . because I’m kinda useful to you. But I’m easily replaceable. Speaking honestly, I’m a burden. You had to come save my life, and put yourself in danger. I’m not worth it.”

“You think I married you because you’re useful?” Hurt flashed in Satoru’s piercing eyes. “I’m in love with you, and you’ll never be a burden. I don’t care if you can’t fight curses. You’re my wife for a reason, and that’s because there’s nothing greater than seeing you get excited over finding your favorite snack at the grocery store or seeing the way you smile when your favorite scene from a show comes on, and you sit there and watch it as if you haven't seen it a thousand times. I love the way your eyes light up when you find a new activity in town for us to try, or a new book to read, or a new recipe. God, I just . . . I love you. I love you more than anything. I don’t know how you’re able to put up with someone like me. Every day I wonder how I got so lucky because I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, and I haven’t met anyone as loving as you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do you understand me? I’d kill and die for you.”

Satoru gently wiped away the tear that fell from your eyes with his thumb.

“I love you too,” you smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry we missed our dinner reservations and the pottery class.”

Satoru couldn’t help but lean in and kiss your cheek.

“I’ve already rescheduled two weeks out.”

Moving away from your cheek, your husband softly kissed your lips. And while he had spent time rescheduling your date night and making sure you were receiving the excellent care you deserved while in the hospital, he was also hard at work, tracking down the monsters that dared to lay a hand on you.

He would make them suffer.

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tojis fav part of his day has to be when he gets those little videos from you of you and the kids. he had a whole album dedicated to it and sometimes will stop what he’s doing to watch one of the video.

the one you sent today has to be his favorite. it’s a cute little video of megumi trying to eat your face.

“toji your son won’t stop trying to eat me.” you said through giggles while looking at him through the screen. then you flipped the camera and baby megumi was in his little blue onesie propped up on the bottoms of your feet with your legs in the air while trying to reach for something. he was trying to reach for you.

he was babbling nonsense to you as you laughed but your laughter turned to noises of concern when megumi started to lean forward and fell on you. “oh sh—megs are you okay?” you asked. toji laughs extra hard at that because of how quick you were going to curse but took it back. you didn’t want to put anything in the swear jar.

megumi didn’t say anything and just hiked his way up until he was on your chest. he look at the camera with his wide dark eyes and you looked at the camera too but your laughs came back once megumi opened his toothless mouth wide and put it on your cheek.

he began to make raspberries all over your face while trying to bite the fat of your face but clearly it wasn’t working. he even grabbed hold of your head to get a better chance but it didn’t seem to work. “megs! you’re getting drool all on me.” you laughed loudly and wait, this is toji’s favorite part.

when you realized it was too quite for a house of two kids. “wait, tsumiki what are you doing?” you asked grabbing megumi and pulling him off you ignoring the wet spot on your face as you stood up. you walked through the house to try and find the little girl and she was on the kitchen floor with flour practically nowhere else but on her.

“oh tsumiki…haha!” you said starting to laugh at the situation as megumi sat on your hip confused but beginning to leave toothless bites on your shoulder. you kneeled and showed tsumiki in the camera “say hi to daddy…” you muttered barely able to get your words out because of your laughter.

tsumiki smiled with her face covered in flour and waved “hi daddy.” you laughed even more at this and then looked at the camera “okay bye toji we have to clean this up.” throughout the whole day that was the one thing that stayed in his mind. his wife and his messy children.