Rush Hour - Toji Fushiguro X Fem!reader

rush hour - toji fushiguro x fem!reader

masterlist

minors + ageless blogs dni!!

dark content, stranger!toji, P in V, dubcon, public sex, pervert!toji, big dick!toji, fucking on a train seat, toji manhandles you, nameless and faceless!toji (hence him being a stranger), creampie, overstim for a sec, toji plays with your clit, cockwarming, grinding, degrading, dumbification, 

summary: you were forced to ride the train during rush hour, not knowing your skirt was bunched up in front of a man who couldn’t help but fuck you.

wc: 1.7k

an: i want dick so bad.

-

every seat in the cart was full. you assumed the same for the others seeing the people crowding the doors preventing you from checking. it’s not your fault you got off two hours later than you should’ve. your supervisor threw more and more tasks at you demanding each one to be done immediately, not bothering to ask you to remind him what time he scheduled you to clock out that day. so there you were, taking the train during rush hour with no place to sit.

you were shoved from your spot next to the sliding doors once the train hit its next stop to the nearest pole in between the lucky people coming home from work who got to sit.

unbeknownst to you, the back of your skirt was left bunched up in the process giving the man behind you a surprise show of your white, cotton panties sucked up by your plump cheeks. he leans back in his seat to get a better view of your ass, spreading his legs wide enough to not wake the sleeping passengers on either side of him.

his lounge pants tighten around his growing cock. he moves his fingers from their place on his thigh to touch his base slightly, biting down on his maniacal smirk. they then move to the hem of your skirt with a touch so light you couldn’t feel the fabric hiking up further for him, careful not to accidentally nudge the apron still tied to your waist.

you jump at the feeling of someone’s fingers brushing the lace edges of your panties— he got too needy. before you could turn around and reveal yourselves to one another, his hands grip your waist and shove you onto his lap.

“shhh,” he breathlessly whispers into your neck before you can alert the people around you of the man’s advances.

he moves your hips over his now completely hard cock bulging through his sweats. your mouth opens slightly for a muted gasp, feeling taller than you were previously sitting on his upper thighs. yet he still had to lean his head down to command you, “stay quiet f’me, pretty.”

his left arm wraps around your waist, caging you to him. you admired the intricacies of his prominent muscles. they were as toned as those bodybuilders you’d see on magazine covers at the grocery store as a kid. when they flexed around your abdomen, it made you tense. your mind spins to grasp what’s happening to you.

his right arm moves below you as he lifts you with ease. his thumb pulled his underwear and pants down below his balls, shifting slightly to get more comfortable before sitting you on his cock.

his base plunged in between your thighs. you felt his tip barely peaking out the top of your squished thighs, his base rubbing against your clothed clit as well as your heat which was slowly leaking in response to him manhandling you.

he moved you slowly on his cock, your thighs clenching around his tip feeling his pre-cum drip on your skin. your previous tension slowly releases as you are overcome with pleasure. your warm unders grazing him making you shudder, gripping his thighs to find balance when you didn’t need to. he was already holding you tight to him. you just felt so dizzy.

“you okay?” he coos in your ear, aiding in your surrender to his dubious actions. he caught you in an exhausted state, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to relax into his harsh touch.

his movements subside, you taking the lead as you pick up the pace slightly, grinding on his cock. your breasts ached to be touched like an itch you can’t scratch. he uses his unoccupied hand to pull your apron down over your inner thighs when you begin to open your legs. you bite on your bottom lip to contain your quaint moans still aware of the innocent bystanders surrounding you and the possible felony charge.

you’re lifted again so he can move your panties to the side. you turn your head sharply in an attempt to see his face but he was staring down at his cock, angling it towards him so he can plunge his length into you without causing suspicion of those around.

your head falls forward when he sits you down halfway onto his long, thick cock. not to say you weren’t soaked by any means, but you weren’t lubricated enough for a cock of his size to enter practically a virgin pussy in comparison.

you cry to yourself loud enough for him to hear. “take it,” he spits in your ear with gritted teeth, forcing the rest of you down to his hips.

it burned. you wanted to cry out for help but when you felt him rub circles on your clit, you shut down again. biting back your moans as your cunt adjusted to his girth, cockwarming him. his motions sped up, flicking your clit like they did in those underground pornos you found on a depraved night.

your thighs clenched around his hand. your back arching as you were about to reach your climax on this faceless stranger's cock, until his hand left your pulsing bud and moved parallel to his other on your waist.

you two stayed like that for a full stop. the bottom half of you writhing on top of him begging for friction, the top being forced straight up with his grip on your waist, your face contorted in pleasure.

“you’re so pathetic,” he growls in your ear. “begging a stranger's cock.”

you whine.

“you want me to fuck you? you want a stranger to make you cum?”

you nod.

“you’re gonna let me cum inside you, huh?” he asks like you’ve agreed to it prior. like you agreed to all of this prior.

you shook your head no.

he lifted you off his cock making a shaking moan rip from your throat. lucky for you, the doors opened just a few seconds before, the train cart too loud to hear you. same with the people sleeping directly next to you two.

he smacks you right back down on his thighs with a wet plop. “god, woman,” he laughs. “i’m cumming in you.”

his moves you back and forth on his cock. you dig your nails into his legs; it was your mind telling you to stop. trying to get you to wake up from the cock drunk state you were in. it failed.

the pain he felt from your sharp acrylics only made him thrust with his movements. it was a pace that would make it obvious you were being fucked on a train to anyone paying attention, but no one looked. it was like you two weren’t there. it made you want to release the moans caught in your throat again but you continued struggling to remain quiet, not wanting to test it.

you leaned your head back on his shoulder, eyes rolling in the back of your head, fully submitting to him. you wanted him to fuck you hard. you wanted him to load his cum inside of you. you didn’t care about the consequences.

just as before, he didn’t need to guide you anymore. your hands were between both of your legs resting on the seat below to hold you up while you lazily bounced on his cock. your skirt lifted with every hop for him to see the way your pussy struggled to mold around him.

it was clear from his view your walls ached with each movement, sucking him in harder than any woman he’s fucked before. you whore, taking him willingly. wanting him to stretch you. wanting him to leave you sore for a good day or two. he hoped for longer. he wanted you to lay in bed tomorrow night still struggling to get comfortable, thinking of how much of a cumdump you are.

he wanted it so much, he had to tell you. he tugged on your hair making you lean back on his shoulder once more, “look at you. taking me so well. you feel it? me stretching you. i want you to remember how much of a slut you are. how you’re fucking yourself on me. how you’re made for nothing more than holding cum.”

you whine, thighs shaking from his words.

“are you seriously cumming? because i called you a worthless whore?” he groaned.

he wrapped your hair tight in his hands and began stroking up into you to prove his point. to fill you will his cum. hitting that part of your gummy walls that made you see stars. he watched your ass giggle as you slammed repeatedly on him, leaving red splotches with each smack. it was the longest orgasm you’ve had in a while. your feet cramping from your contorting toes, your body hunching forward in exhaustion, your walls continuing to pulsate, and your cream drenching his hips, seeping into his hair.

he still wasn’t close. he continued to slam himself into you relishing in the fact that no one seemed to notice the woman slumped in his lap like a rag doll. once you stopped clenching around him, his fingers immediately ran to your clit hoping your overstimulation would make you clamp back on him. you did.

you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore leaving him to carry and fuck you. you were starting to lose control of your voice letting out the occasional squeak. he didn’t care as much as he should because soon, his ropes of cum were shooting into your cervix, filling you fully. his lap was a messy mix of fluids, the force of his cum making everything else gush out of you.

the voice on the intercom was muffled to your ears but clear to him. his stop was next. he lifted your limp body off of his limp cock and shoved you up to stand. you barely caught yourself on the pole you were hanging on previously.

he pulled his clothes over his cock quickly in the process and stood up, leaving his seat to walk towards the sliding doors.

you on the other hand. your panties were still pulled to the side. toji’s cum dripping down to your mid-thigh.

NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU

synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.

content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.

word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—

SPRING 2008

“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?” 

An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulder, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.

Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.

“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.

He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.

It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.

The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere. 

Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation. 

Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.

And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...

Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.

Who knows. 

All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.

“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”

“Two years, by force.” 

“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”

You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.

Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today. 

Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.

“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”

In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.

“Geto-senpai!” 

Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.

You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him. 

You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.

Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.

Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot. 

“I see that Satoru's already started…”

Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”

Which reminded you…

“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”

You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.

Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.  

“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.

“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”

…Huh?

Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side. 

His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own. 

“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.

You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.  

Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner. 

You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened??? 

Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.

Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.

If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.

“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.

There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.

“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”

SUMMER 2009 

To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school. 

Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently. 

Whenever he can.

He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.

You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.

Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.

“Sooo,” you start slowly.

Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow. 

“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you. 

You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.

“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”

There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.

“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”

You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…

“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro. 

Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.

But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.

You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!” 

It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.

“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”

Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”

Huh?

You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.

Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!

Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.

Christ.

Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, she’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.

The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there. 

Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.

“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.

Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”

“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”

“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.

“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”

An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”

And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.

WINTER 2011

Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.

It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.

Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes. 

Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.

But something was... different.

With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.

Harmful, right? 

So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.

There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.

“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”

Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.

He was being serious.

From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.

You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”

Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the  Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”

The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.  

“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.

“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?

But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.

“Sato—” Fuck.

You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”

“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”

“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”

Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be. 

There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”

Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now. 

“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.

A FEW YEARS LATER

A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.

Satoru: Are you home?

What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again. 

…And again.

Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.

As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.

Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )

Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry

You: yes... why?

Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person. 

But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.

Satoru: Open your door.

What the fuck.

Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl

So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!

You: you're actually insane.

You: hold on!

Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.

“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.

Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!

 He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.

Yeesh.

Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. 

It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—

“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.

“Happy birthday!” 

In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.

Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake. 

Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.

He’s cute.

Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.

On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.

Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.

“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”

You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”

Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.

Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.

With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.

Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”

He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.

Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.

“Wait, what,” you deadpan.

This can’t be what you think it is.

“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”

Har. Har. Very funny.

You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.

Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre. 

That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.

“Satoru!” you squeal.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.

Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him. 

Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt. 

“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”

Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject. 

There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.

“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.

For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.

It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot. 

But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.

There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.

The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.

Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.

“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.

“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”

And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.

Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it). 

Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.

God, you wanted him bad.

It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Cute. 

That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.

You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement.  “Come to my bedroom.”

Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.

And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.

Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal. 

Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.

Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.

Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear. 

“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”

Message received.

Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours. 

The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.

“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.

“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means. 

He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him. 

But something’s up.

His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.

You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.

Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.

Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.

“Do you like that?” you ask.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.

“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.

You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.

There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.

And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line. 

Fuck.

You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.

He wants you to strip him of his clothes. 

Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.

You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.

“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”

“Oh.” 

Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?

Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between

Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”

You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in. 

There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.

Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.

You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.

“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.

“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.

“Shut up about it…”

But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?” 

A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.

“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”

Oh.

Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.

“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.

You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.

The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.

Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.

You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone. 

“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.

“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.

 Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”

He pushes in and you swear you see stars. 

Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.

You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning. 

“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”

The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”

“S—Satoru!”

Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.

You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.

Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”

What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.

That’s what gets you.

You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.

Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.

Wow.

Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.

“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours. 

You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly. 

Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.

You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.

You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot. 

“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.

“Hm?”

You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”

You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—

“…Yeah, why?”

Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!” 

A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.

“What’d I do?!”

Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.

if you read this far, we're fucking making out.

ever since getting a house with toji, your parents have found any way to come over and invade your space. you were okay with it at first when they were bringing over dishes and things they weren't using so that you could have them, but it started to get to the point where they were coming every day. It wasn't just the fact that they were coming and staying over; it was the fact that you and toji couldn't fuck. 

it was going on for four weeks, and tojis balls were so full he could barely walk straight, getting distracted at work just fantasizing about sliding his dick into your warm, wet pussy. he missed being inside of you every night; he couldn't take it; he couldn't wait anymore. he tried to be respectful of your parents for once since they were technically helping with the groceries and furniture, but he couldn't stand it any longer; he had to have you.

toji knew how loud you would get when he fucked you; that was the best part. listening to how you whimpered and moaned for him to give you more made his heart jump. that's one of the reasons he tried to keep his hands off of you, but this particular night only fed into the horny thoughts that were swarming around in his head.

slipping into the bed with just a shirt and panties was your first mistake, because not even thirty minutes after you slid under the covers, toji was already sliding into your panties. knowing you needed to stop him, but his hands were already feeling good on your ass and inside your panties. once he was pulling down your panties there no stopping. he was going to try not to get you riled up to respect your parents, but with the smirk that was on his face, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

your thighs pushed back and his face deep in your pussy licking all over, his eyes rolling from finally getting to taste you again, licking you up barely breathing, and having you grind against his face—that was the first of  many things he did to you that night. once he got a feel for how good it felt to taste you and be inside of you again, he had to do it every night.

"just be quiet, and they won't even know." you tried to be, but he was so fucking good at what he did. when his fingers were deep inside of you, curving up and pushing against your sweet spot, making you squirm, the pleasure that bubbled inside of you just couldn't be contained, moans slipping out one by one, without a care for anyone. 

his dick pulsing inside of you had you lightheaded, and you only wanted more. the amount of sex the both of you had each night wasn't enough to make up for a month of no sex.

toji never wanted to know what it was like not to be inside of you every night. it was almost comforting, but he knew he was way too horny for it to be comforting. being so fucked out of your mind he never wanted to stop, that look on your face when he was slamming into you and pressing on your stomach. his dick twitching inside of you whenever he felt you clench around him and his low grunts in your ear as he continues. this went on all night, not caring if yall were going to be late to work or not.

it wasn't until you saw your parents with their bags packed the next morning and nervous smiles on their faces that you knew exactly what happened, embarrassment coating your face and annoyance on toji's, nothing had to be said; everyone's expression spoke for themselves.

if toji knew this was going to get them out, he would've fucked you sooner.

Suguru Geto x Reader

Text in bold italics are his thoughts 🤍

Summary: Geto comes back to you after his difficult missions looking for comfort.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Excorising, absorbing.

I kept repeating these tasks.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

No one knows...

the taste of Cursed Spirits.

It's like swallowing a cloth

that has wiped vomit.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

Continuously, unbeknownst of anyone around me.

Then, why am I lying here…

In your arms…

Small hands, warm and tender hands, run through his raven colored hair. Hands that somehow… just somehow, knew how to bring him comfort. Hands that knew where he was hurting — as the fingers trace the gentle crease of his hairline. Hands that he came back to every so often.

Your hands…

As your fingers waltzed with the strands of his dark hair, Suguru couldn’t help but ease into their touch …into your touch.

It always took him a bit to relax— starting from tensed muscles like those experienced in moments of shock or fear; but as he learned more about your touch by coming back to you so frequently, he began to relax in the feeling of them.

As your thumb gently swipes the tip of his nose to remove a fallen eyelash, he catches the lingering scent of cookie dough on your fingertips.

How did you know? I’ll never know…

But you knew the moment you asked me…

“Suguru, what do curses taste like?” You asked me with such gentle concern, I almost questioned if it was real or not. Was it a joke— was the world teasing me— or did you notice…?

I never got to answer your question… and still you knew.

If Suguru was to look up from his place on your chest, he knew exactly how you would look at him. Eyes that held nothing but adoration, concern, and gentleness. Eyes that glittered whenever they made contact with his dull orbs.

Knowing this, Suguru decides to look up, catching the way your pupils dilate when his stare meets yours— his natural strand of bangs falling into their rightful place.

You looked at me that way then too…

Studying your gaze, Suguru is reminded of a moment in his distant memory.

A few weeks after having met you, Suguru was assigned a mission on his own. He came back hurt, devastated — a look so dead in his eyes… but no one would notice that.

Subconsciously, he was looking for you when he had come back from that mission, but you were nowhere to be found. You had befriended him and he had taken a liking to you, your presence was comforting to him, even though he never expected anything from you. Giving up on the idea of finding you, he went to his dormitory, only to find the door was partially opened.

I thought it was a curse… I couldn’t bear to swallow one more that day.

I opened it hastily, wanting it to be over quickly but then I saw you…

And I smelled—- cookies??

He could never explain to you the way his heart fell to his stomach that day. And he could never explain to you the way his breath hitched in his throat when you said…

“To help with the aftertaste…” you whispered so softly

I couldn’t tell if the guilty look in your eyes was for being in my dorm when I wasn’t

or for making those cookies for me. Did you pity me…?

Though the first time he barely acknowledged the cookies due to fear that your concern for him wasn’t real, the second, third, fourth, and many other times you did make them, he was convinced it was more than just concern.

It soon became a ritual, whenever he went on a mission, he’d expect you in his dorm making cookies when he came back. And every time you’d say something along the lines of getting rid of the aftertaste from the curses he had to consume that day. And, on the more difficult missions, he would hesitantly lay in your arms. He knew you didn’t have his power, nor did you ever have to bear the feeling of eating or tasting a curse, but you did this for him as if you understood exactly what it felt like.

Now, in present time, looking back into your loving eyes, he swallowed something that, for the first time, wasn’t a curse.

I love you.

”Suguru,” your voice tickled his ear with warmth, “is something on your mind..?”

And he swallowed again.

I love you.

Your palm came to cup his cheek, the touch of you so magnetic, he slowly began to lean into it. And for a moment, no words are exchanged between the two of you, just audible breathing and even more audible heartbeats.

You began to lean your face closer to his, he didn’t notice how close you were until he could feel your breath on his skin. He held his breath the way he did when he first caught you in his dorm.

Your lips made contact with his skin. The press of them is so gentle against his forehead as if you could break him if you kissed any harder.

Lingering your single kiss there for a moment, Suguru couldn’t help but close his eyes under your affectionate lips. Pulling away from his forehead, he could see your brightly-dusted, pink cheeks that rose as you smiled so beautifully at him.

“I love you,” you’d be the first to say.

Excorising, absorbing

I kept repeating these tasks.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

No one knows...

the taste of Cursed Spirits.

It's like swallowing a cloth

that has wiped vomit.

Exorcising.

Absorbing.

“I love you too,” he would answer in a barely heard whisper. But you heard it. You always heard him.

But somehow you knew…

And I knew

As long as I come back to you…

I’ll be okay…

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ebba’s Note

I hope you enjoyed it.

I used some of the script from the show but the rest is my original work.

Thank you 😊🤍

𝝑𝝔 an: i had 2 requests about babysitting yuuji and they were similar so i did the earlier one i hope its alright. read more!!

“hey, loser, what’s up?”

you smile at the sound of sukuna’s voice, “jus’ reading. what about you?”

you sense him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line at the mention of yet another book you’ve been gushing about.

“‘m still with the old man.” he grumbles, referring to his father, but his tone changes to a more serious one, making you worry, “look, there’s somethin’ i wanna ask you.”

“anything for you, ‘kuna.”

“could you watch yuuji for a couple of hours? jin’s been called from work and i can’t leave the old man alone right now, so…”

“of course! i adore yuuji, y’know that.”

he sighs in relief and chuckles, his fondness seeping through the line, “aren’t you the sweetest little thing? i’ll see you later then.”

“bye, ‘kuna!”

you close your book after bookmarking the page and jump from your bed to prepare and run to sukuna’s place, excited to spend time with his nephew.

jin’s relief when you appear in his doorway, a little out of breath but with a bright beam that matches yuuji’s nonetheless. he quickly gives you a list of things you should remember when watching over the little guy and presses a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads, leaving you a bit flustered and yuuji very happy.

you find it that 5-year old yuuji isn’t that to look after.

he is such a sweet boy; leading you through the house with his chubby fingers snugly wrapped around yours, giving you his big big smile that outshines everyone’s despite missing tooth on the front. he absolutely adores the way you treat him like he and you are on the same level, avoiding hurting him if gets even a little capricious and responding with the same energy he gives off.

yuuji loves to talk a lot, not shying away from anything that comes to his mind, still an unfiltered, naturally unlike his more balanced father and his barely approachable uncle. it’s impossible to be annoyed with him, his innocence and genuine interest in every little thing is so sweet you can’t help the fondness oozing through every word you say to him.

such a helpful boy too; even though he makes a face at the vegetables you put on his plate(jin emphasised on feeding it to him any possible way)he still eats them, distracted by your silly antics. he helps you with the dishes, clumsily drying the plates with his head barely even peeking over the counter. picking up the toys he plays with right after and putting them back in their places. and you can tell that jin, although alone, still does a pretty good job of raising the sweetest boy out of him, which warms your heart.

ruffling the pink tufts of hair on his head, pinching his cheeks lovingly, holding him close as he himself initiates physical contact, always eager to be in your space and accept and give love. throughout the rest of the day you clearly understand that just like falling in love with sukuna it’s just as easy to love little itadori yuuji and you find yourself easily giving in to his charming nature, feeling closer to him and his family than ever before.

when it’s time to go to sleep, he whines a little bit about not being sleepy to which you make a point of reminding him jin’s words(“if you behave extra good today i’ll give you a present, ‘kay?”). he just salutes with the wrong hand and tugs you to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

nestled in the comfort of his bed, with you sitting on your knees by its side, yuuji initiates another conversation, albeit his yawns keep interrupting his minds’ flow.

“d’you think i’ll be like dad and uncle when i grow up?”

your brows raise at the sudden seriousness in the little boy’s tone, “do you wanna be like them, yuuji?”

“of course! they are the coolest!”

you smile at him fondly, stroking the side of his face soothingly, to help him fall asleep faster, “you’ll be even cooler.”

he flashes you his toothless grin once again and closes his eyes.

“night night, yuuji.”

he mumbles something in response and dozes off, clutching his blanket. you kiss his forehead and try to contain another yawn, not even noticing the sleep catching up to you too as you continue gazing at him, lids falling closed a few seconds after.

the silence greeting them while they enter the house makes sukuna frown. jin is still not home, shoes absent from their usual spot, but you’re still there and he can’t help the excitement building up inside of him because he missed you.

he calls your name, yuuji, walking further in, yet still no response. throwing his things on the table in the guest room, sukuna can’t help but observe that his surroundings are neatly cleaned, even more than before. he looks around in the kitchen, knocks in the bathroom, inspects the living room — still no answer. so he decides to check yuuji’s room, maybe you’re playing or something and too distracted to hear him.

the sight that greets him is something new though, stealing the air all the way from his chest as his eyes widen. he slowly steps closer, hissing silently at the annoying squeaky floorboards, and crouches before you. you seem very very uncomfortable in that position, yet the way yuuji’s body is facing yours makes it clear that you were just waiting for the boy to fall asleep and joined him unintentionally. so cute, so warm it melts away the leftover iceberg that is his heart.

his hand caresses your cheek gently before poking it repeatedly, making you stir in your sleep.

“huh? ’kuna?”

he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as he lifts you up, “was the little shit good to you?”

“yuuji? he was the sweetest.” you blink at him sleepily, nuzzling deeper into his chest. sukuna can’t help the soft smile that stretches on his lips.

“thank you for the help, baby.”

“anytime, ‘kuna.”

Can’t stop thinking about riling up Gojo, teasing him until he loses control and breaks beneath you. He’d be so patient for you, biting back curses as you rid him slowly; the tantalising pace driving him more insane with every buck of your hips. You’d watch as his long, slender fingers twisted in the bed sheets, knuckles turning white in an attempt to stop himself from grabbing roughly at your hips and taking you exactly how he wanted to.

“Come on baby, you can do better than that,” The cocky grin on his face does little to hide his frustration, the smile not quite reaching his crystal eyes; instead they’re laced with something insatiable, something threatening. Your walls clench around him at the sight of the hunger in his gaze and he whines, his brows furrowing.

“Please,” He’d whimper, the smug expression reduced to one that’s almost wanton, “Please, I need you. Need you so fucking bad.”

Your rhythm doesn’t change, if anything it slows even further. It sends Saturo’s resolve crumbling, breaking apart piece by piece with every minute that goes by. His brows are pinched in the centre, mouth open as he pants pathetically, whimpers leaving his soft, pink lips. You’re addicted to the fire behind his gaze, the blazing look burning amidst his blue orbs burning brighter than you’d ever seen.

A growl rips through Gojo’s throat, his strong digits digging into your sides, hard enough to bruise. “Fuck this,” Saturo mutters menacingly, a depth to his silky voice that sends shivers down your spine. One moment you’re bouncing leisurely on his length, the next you’re flipped around entirely, face buried in the sheets and ass in the air, “Now you’ve fucking done it.”

He thrusts into you roughly, unapologetic as his hips snap into you from behind. A crazed chuckle leaves his lips, watching the way your ass bounces against him with a lob sided, carnal grin. Gojo holds your hips with a grip so strong it makes you gasp, bucking into you ruthlessly. He was never necessarily vanilla with you before, but the way he’s grinning like a madman and the speed of which he’s fucking into you is something you’ve never experienced. Today you’d pushed him too far, broken your sweet, loving boyfriend and reduced him to this.

You fucking loved it.

“Thought you could take control, heh,” You hardly recognise his voice, practically hearing the maniacal smile in his words. Saturo’s hand snakes up to your hair, grabbing it in his fist and pulling you up so your backs to his chest. He lewdly licks a stripe down the back of your neck, nipping at the skin, “Look at you now,” His tone turns soft and downright patronising as he speaks into the nape of your neck, “A dirty-little- fucking-slut.” Each filthy word leaving his mouth is punctuated by a thrust. It sends heat rushing to your core, he never spoke to you like this, always praising and complimenting you as he’d worship your body.

“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?” You tried to answer but the way he’s fucking you has unable to formulate a sentence. He loosens his grip on your hair, combing his fingers through the strands and a soft, wet kiss on the back of your neck, completely juxtaposing the way he’s pummelling your cunt, “Filthy girl.”

Saturo’s mind is hazy with lust, nothing on his mind but ruining you for working him up so much. The moans leaving his mouth are unabashedly loud, lost in the feeling of you around him. His icy hair is ruffled, eyes glowing impossibly brighter and that wicked smile still graces his lips. You turn your head to look at him and he almost comes right there, his brows pinching together in the centre and his eyes going lidded. “You look so fucking pretty when I ruin you baby.”