Talking with my bf about zombie apocalypse movies and we’re debating on slow vs fast zombies. He’s telling me about his own zombie virus ideas! #petedenuzinocore
you were watching a horror movie with yuji on the couch. your legs were sprawled across his, his hand on your ankle—rubbing on it with soft motions. you were scarfing down a bowl of popcorn. catching a glimpse of yuji staring into your soul. you stop chewing.
“stop doing that."
“stop what?”
“that.”
“I dont get what you're talking about.” yuji snarks, taking his hand off your ankle to dig into the bowl of popcorn you were previously devouring.
“what you were doing just now. that is what I'm talking about. I don't know if you're trying to mess with me but you need to stop look—no staring at me like that.” you beg, putting the bowl of popcorn down on the floor beside the couch.
yuji ignores what you said and brings his attention back to the movie. about a couple minutes later you notice yuji piercing his eyes at you, giving you a shiver down your back.
“can you stop!” you yell, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at his face.
“what, I'm not doing anything.” yuji giggles at your reaction. covering his face with his hands to block the pillow launching at his head.
a jumpscare scene suddenly pops up in the movie. making you almost jump off the couch. just when you thought you had calmed down. yuji is staring into your soul. his eyes wide open like his eyeball is going to pop out of his socket.
“OH MY GOD!” you screech. bringing your hands to cover your face.
“what.” yuji asks. acting oblivious to what he is doing.
“Im going to kill you, you're creeping me out.” you mutter. shaking your head to get whatever you just saw out of your mind.
yuji begins to laugh. hard.
“I wish you could see your face just now.”
“piss off.”
“i'm sorry baby, I was just trying to mess with you.” yuji chuckles. leaning close to you so that he could press a kiss to your cheek.
close to the end of the movie. you were half asleep, drifting off, struggling to keep your eyes open. yuji was not. handfuls of popcorn filling his mouth. when he noticed you were about to fall asleep. he decided to play one more trick on you.
“this is such a boring horror movie. like there's only one jumpscare and that's it.” you yawn. dragging your hand down your face then pulling it off to dip it into the popcorn bowl you miss because yuji pulled it away from you.
“hey! why are you hogging the popcorn?” you mumble. stretching your arm out more.
once you realized yuji wasn't going to pass the bowl to you. you turned your head. your eyes were met with his eyes already glaring at you. that woke you up. you shriek, grabbing another pillow and throwing it at yuji’s face.
Warnings: explicit sexual content, missionary, established relationship, domestic intimacy, parenthood, interrupted sex, new parents struggles, emotional intimacy, soft gojo satoru, dad gojo, mutual pining, frustration/denial
Synopsis: After months of rushed moments and quiet nights, you and Satoru finally get some time alone. This time, you’re not stopping. …until you have to.
It’s 10 PM.
You put your baby down about two hours ago.
You love him with everything you can give—but not everything about this stage can be romanticized.
He’s eight months old now, and while the sleepless nights aren’t as brutal as they were in the beginning, they’re still there.
The early wake-ups.
The crying.
The restless shifting.
Sometimes he needs something… sometimes he just needs you.
Or his dad.
And all of that has changed things—more than either of you expected.
Especially your sex life with Satoru.
You and Satoru have been starving for each other for months now. Wanting, waiting, stealing what little moments you can.
But most of the time, it’s rushed.
Quiet.
Careful.
Always listening for a sound from the other room.
Never like this.
So today, you both decided—almost wordlessly—that you needed a night.
A real one.
You let your baby crawl around for as long as he wanted. Satoru played with him for hours, laughing, lifting him, keeping him entertained until even he started to look tired. You both put everything into it—every ounce of energy—until your little one was completely worn out.
And it worked.
By the time you held him for his bath, his eyes were already closing, his body going soft in your arms.
You finished carefully. Gently. Changed him, tucked him in, and stayed there for a moment longer than necessary—watching. Waiting. Making sure he was really, deeply asleep.
A small smile crossed your face when you realized he was.
Finally.
And now—
You’re beneath Satoru.
Completely naked, your body wrapped around his like you’ve been waiting for this exact moment for weeks. Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, holding him deep inside you—exactly where you need him. Your hands move along his back, nails grazing his skin every time he presses closer, harder against you.
His arms are planted on either side of your head, caging you in.
Close.
Too close.
His face right next to your ear—so close you can hear and feel every warm breath and every quiet moan against your ear, uneven, just like yours.
“God…” he murmurs, his voice low and strained. “You’re squeezing me so tight…”
“I can tell you really missed this, didn’t you… mmh?”
The way he says it sends something straight through you.
“Y-yeah…”
It barely comes out.
Because it’s true.
So painfully true.
All those times before—quick, quiet, rushed moments in between responsibilities… they were never enough.
You didn’t just miss this.
You missed him.
Missed the way he takes his time. The way he looks at you like there’s nothing else in the world. The way he doesn’t rush, doesn’t hold back—just lets himself have you, completely.
You didn’t just miss having sex with Satoru—
You missed him making love to you.
You wanted this.
To feel him.
To stay here.
To not have to worry about anything else for once.
Just him.
Gojo lifts his face from your neck, breath warm, uneven, like he’s trying to ground himself—but when he looks at you, it only makes things worse.
Your eyes meet.
And neither of you looks away.
Not even for a second.
There’s something in his gaze—dark, hungry, but soft at the same time. Like he’s been holding himself back for too long… and he’s right on the edge of losing that control.
Then he leans in and kisses you.
It’s wet. Messy. Deep.
A kiss full of heat—but underneath it, you can feel it. His love. His sincerity. The way he’s been holding all of this in just as much as you have.
“I love you,” he breathes against your lips, voice breaking between kisses and soft moans. “I love you so much.”
The way he says it makes your chest tighten. Makes everything feel heavier—hotter.
Your mind is already hazy, your body burning, overwhelmed by everything you’re feeling. All you can do is moan softly at every word he says.
“Wanna cum, baby?” he asks, his voice uneven as his pace picks up, his eyes locked on yours.
Your legs tighten around him immediately, pulling him closer like you’re afraid he’ll disappear.
“Y-yes… I wanna cum so bad toru… please…”
You can barely get the words out. They fall apart between your breaths, your voice trembling in a way that only makes him react more.
“Okay, baby…”
His breath turns heavier as he drops his head back into the space between your neck and shoulder, pressing closer.
Like he can’t even look at you anymore without losing it completely.
You cling to him tighter, your nails digging deeper into his back when the rhythm changes—unexpected.
Not faster.
Harder.
Deeper.
Each movement feels deliberate now—like he’s trying to reach somewhere inside you that only he knows how to find.
Gojo lets out a strained moan at the feeling of your nails dragging against his skin. Marks you know will still be there tomorrow. Marks you’ll probably feel guilty about later… but not right now.
Not when he’s moving like this.
Each thrust hitting so deep it knocks the breath out of you.
“Toru… fuck—don’t stop, just like that…”
Your voice trembles as you pull him closer, your face brushing against his hair, soft and warm against your skin.
He nods against you, moaning, completely focused—completely devoted—to making you feel good.
You’re so close.
Too close.
It’s building too fast now, your thoughts slipping, your body taking over, chasing that edge.
And Satoru feels it too.
God, he feels it.
He’s even worse.
He’s been holding back from the start—ever since he first pushed into you and felt how wet you were, how tight. He almost lost it right then.
Now it’s barely contained.
Your thoughts blur, your body taking over, chasing the feeling.
You tilt your head and start kissing his neck—slow at first, then more desperate.
You know exactly what it does to him.
And it works.
Gojo’s moans break louder now, more unfiltered, every kiss pulling something raw out of him.
The room fills with the sound of both of you—breaths, moans, the tension that’s been building for weeks finally spilling over.
You’re both right there.
Right at the edge.
And then—
A sound.
Neither of you notices it.
The small monitor on the shelf flickers on.
At first, it’s just soft sounds—tiny sobs, quiet babbling.
Easy to miss.
A small whine. A broken little noise through the monitor.
Neither of you stops.
Not yet.
Not when you’re this close—when it’s right there.
But it comes again.
Louder.
Sharper.
Until it turns into full crying.
Real crying.
That’s when it hits you both.
And it cuts through everything.
Like a slap back to reality.
Your body tenses.
His does too.
Both of you freeze—breathing hard, hearts racing, still pressed together like neither of you wants to be the first to pull away.
You turn your head toward the monitor.
And there he is.
Your baby, standing in his crib, holding onto the railing, crying.
For a second…
You both hesitate.
Like you’re silently asking the same question:
Can we ignore it? Just for a little longer?
But then—
“Da… da…”
That small, broken voice through the monitor.
And that’s it.
Everything crashes back down.
Gojo lets out a quiet, frustrated breath, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closing for just a second.
“…I’ll go,” he murmurs, voice still uneven.
You let out a soft, breathless laugh—half frustration, half disbelief.
Of course.
Of course it happens now.
Right now.
When you were that close.
He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling away, and the loss of him feels immediate—almost cruel after everything you were just feeling.
Both of you let out a quiet groan at the same time.
You’re still frustrated—of course you are—but there’s something almost funny about it.
The timing.
It’s like he knows.
Like he always knows exactly when to interrupt.
He gets up quickly, wiping himself off with a tissue before pulling on his pants, already halfway focused on the other room.
You stay there for a second, catching your breath, then glance at the monitor.
You watch him walk in, pick your baby up, holding him close, gently rocking him.
And you can’t help but smile.
Seeing him like that—soft, careful, patient.
Dad mode.
You push yourself up, cleaning yourself off before slipping into his shirt.
You pull the sheets off the bed—the same ones that were just tangled around you—and toss them into the hamper. Replace them with a clean, light blanket.
Because you already know.
There’s no finishing tonight.
You head toward the baby’s room.
The door is slightly open, a warm yellow light spilling through the gap.
You push it open slowly, the soft creak making Satoru turn toward you.
He looks… tired. A little frustrated. A little helpless.
“He calms down, but the moment I put him back, he starts crying again,” he says quietly, still rocking him.
Your baby is pressed against his chest, his tiny face tucked into his shoulder. Still sniffing, still whining—but calmer.
You smile.
“Why are you so red?” you tease softly, a small laugh slipping out.
Satoru blinks, a little confused.
“…I don’t know,” he admits, letting out a quiet laugh. “I think I’m embarrassed… I feel like he knows what I was doing.”
That makes you laugh a little more, softer this time.
Your baby starts settling down again, his breathing evening out.
“Come on,” you say gently. “Let’s take him with us.”
Satoru nods and follows you back to the bedroom.
You both get into bed, placing your baby between you, safe and warm.
He curls slightly against Satoru’s arm as you gently play with his tiny hands.
Within minutes, he starts drifting off again.
“…If you want, we can continue in the morning,” Satoru whispers, glancing from the baby to you.
You smile, meeting his eyes.
“Not in front of him,” you whisper back.
His eyes widen slightly.
“No—no, of course not,” he says quickly, lowering his voice even more. “We could… go to the living room.”
You pretend to think about it, just to tease him.
“…Okay.”
Your smile is soft.
His is brighter.
But the next morning…
You don’t get to.
Because your baby wakes up before both of you.
And just like that—
Maybe next time.
…if you’re lucky.
──────────────────────
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
Art: @daumammam on X
a/n: today I learned something: if I don’t write an idea down immediately, it just disappears 😭 I still have my “Sukuna and You as Bartenders” draft and it’s basically done… but I got stuck on the ending and now I don’t even know how to finish it anymore—anyway I’ll deal with it later 💀
The perks of being your own boss: getting to do what you want, when you want, and tonight, you are the common denominator in his plans for both.
With his lips still pressed to yours as you pour into the Spirits and Such office solely on muscle memory, Reigen starts fishing one-handed in his suit pocket for the remote to the newly installed office cameras; he ended up having to buy more after ”the incident” to save face after giving Mob the excuse they were for spirit detecting.
“Let me just turn these off…” Your boyfriend mumbles, absolutely adamant on keeping you close.
A few blind grabs later, he finds the off button and, after clicking it, makes a move for your dress zipper. The metal teeth start to hiss as he whispers in your ear…
“Now… Where were we?”
You both had a long night, the kind that ends in the bedroom, on a high that leads straight to Cloud Nine.
There’s a noticeable skip to Reigen’s step, an energetic boom to his voice as he checks off his list of appointments, nailing each one after your little confidence booster from last night.
Serizawa and Mob cover the last assignment, sans Reigen. “Serizawa, it’s time for you to show some more responsibility. Mob will chaperone you. He knows what to look for.” Never mind the fact that he’s sending a middle schooler to supervise a grown ass man, but Serizawa is flattered all the same, truly believing this is an opportunity for growth. Besides, he’s become the definition of self-improvement, and more jobs on his own means he’s doing something right.
“Ahhh, now that they’re gone, what should I do…” Reigen stretches, arms to the ceiling with audible pop, pop, pops coming from his joints after a busy day of massages—
Er, spectral purification sessions.
“Might as well check the cameras…” Cracking the laptop open, he boots up the recording program, expecting nothing important…
Until he sees that, despite what he thought, he hadn’t turned off the cameras from your rendezvous. It captured everything — you on your knees, your mouth bobbing on his cock, him cumming all over your face and tits.
“Mmm, thank you for the meal.” Your voice isn’t that clear, but his brain is filling in the gaps, and the tent in his slacks is becoming more obvious by the second.
He’s not going to touch himself.
He won’t.
He’s just going to… Adjust himself.
Yeah. Adjust.
The computer dings: USB drive connected.
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I love characters being smug when they have no right to be. One of the quickest ways to endear me to a character is to have them go "heh. All in a days work" while the thing they built 5 seconds ago immediately falls apart behind them because they absolutely fucked it up.
I love when characters are so clearly failing or engaging in loser behavior and they're just "nuh uh"-ing that fact as if that will make it any less true. This is even better when it actually works on the people around them somehow
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