You’re bouncing on his cock, hips slamming down hard enough that the wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the bedroom, when Satoru lets out a muffled sound.
“Mmmfgh-!”
His head is thrown back against the pillow, snowy hair sticking to his damp forehead, eyes rolled halfway up in pure bliss. Your worn black panties are stuffed between his lips, the crotch pressed right against his tongue so your scent and taste flood his senses with every desperate inhale. He’s lost every ounce of composure, he's a whimpering, trembling mess beneath you.
It had started barely twenty minutes ago in the laundry room.
You’d walked in absentmindedly, only to freeze at the sight of Satoru hunched over the hamper, face buried in the same pair of your dirty panties he’s gagging on now. His blindfold was pushed up, cheeks tinted prettily, cock rock-hard and twitching visibly in his sweatpants as he inhaled you like he’d die without it. He’d startled when he saw you, pulling the fabric away with a quick, surprised blink of those striking eyes.
“Well… fuck,” he’d said, a low chuckle slipping out even as his cheeks stayed faintly warm.
“Didn’t expect you to be back so soon...”
You’d felt your own face burn, surprised and a little embarrassed by the scene before you. Instead of scolding him, you’d stepped closer, plucked the panties from his fingers and dragged him to your shared bedroom.
Now he’s paying for it in the best way. You brace both hands on his broad chest, nails digging into pale skin and ride him harder, lifting until just the fat head of his cock stretches your pussy, then slamming back down, again and again.
His muffled moans vibrate against the fabric in his mouth, drool slipping from the corner of his lips. His hands clutch the headboard above him exactly like you ordered, knuckles white, veins standing out on his forearms as he fights the urge to grab your hips and fuck up into you.
“Such a needy boy, sniffing my dirty panties like a pervert.”
He whines loudly around the gag, hips jerking helplessly beneath you. His cock throbs violently inside your clenching heat. You don’t let up, grinding in tight, nasty circles that rub your clit perfectly against his base while your walls squeeze him tightly.
His whole body suddenly goes rigid. A desperate cry tears from his throat, muffled by your panties, as he starts to squirt, hot clear fluid floods deep into your pussy. It’s filthy, warm and slippery, leaking out around his shaft with every frantic twitch of his hips. He shakes hard through every spurt, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes, moaning as he’s completely lost in the pleasure.
You keep grinding on his cock, hips rolling desperately as the warm, messy load he squirted inside you pushes you right over the edge. Your pussy clenches hard around him, thighs shaking as you cum with a soft moan, slick gushing out to mix with his own fluids and dripping down his balls on the sheets.
Panting, you slow down and gently pull the soaked panties from his mouth. He gasps for air, chest heaving, lips swollen and shiny. You brush his white hair from his forehead, still seated on his cock.
“You knew I was coming,” you murmur, watching his face. “You let me catch you on purpose.”
Satoru meets your gaze, still flushed and breathing hard. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his swollen lips.
“Yeah… I knew,” he admits, voice rough and smug.
“Wanted you to walk in on me like that. Wanted you to take over and fuck me stupid.” He lets out a breathless chuckle.
Smiling, you lean down and kiss him.
“You're so dirty...” you whisper. He shivers under you, that smirk still on his lips as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.
You’re curled up on the couch in the dim living room light, knees pulled tightly to your chest, forehead pressed against the armrest. Every wave of pain is sharp and twisting deep in your lower stomach. You’ve already gone through the usual routine, heating pad, painkillers that barely took the edge off, a half-hearted attempt at stretching, but nothing is working tonight. It feels like your body is actively trying to fold you in half.
The front door opens with its usual soft click.
“I’m home—” Satoru’s voice trails off the second he sees you.
He pauses. Not even bothering to take off his shoes or put his keys where they’re supposed to go. In a few long strides he’s kneeling beside the couch, white hair falling into his eyes as he leans in.
“Hey.” His voice is quieter than normal, the usual dramatic flair completely gone. “Look at me for a second.”
You manage to turn your head just enough. The second those bright blue eyes meet yours, his expression softens into something almost painfully gentle.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He reaches out carefully, brushing damp hair away from your forehead with the back of his fingers. “You’re white as a sheet. How long have you been like this?”
You try to answer, but another cramp hits and you only manage a small, pained sound. “Too fucking long.” Satoru’s brows draw together. He shrugs off his jacket, tosses it aside, and carefully slides one arm under your knees and the other behind your back.
“Up we go. Easy.”
He lifts you with ease, settling you against his chest so your head rests in the curve of his neck. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat under your cheek as he carries you down the hallway.
“I’ve got you, pretty.”
He sets you on the closed toilet lid only long enough to dig through the cabinet, finding the stronger painkillers you keep for bad days and filling a glass with water. He holds the glass for you while you take them, one hand steady at the back of your neck.
“I think these’ll work.”
Back in the bedroom he lowers you onto the mattress with ridiculous care, like you might break. He disappears for a moment and returns with the heating pad already warming, a fresh pair of your softest sweatpants, and one of his oversized hoodies.
“Arms up.”
You obey and he helps you change. Not rushing or making you feel exposed. Once you’re swimming in his hoodie, he crawls onto the bed behind you.
“Come here.”
He settles against the headboard and pulls you carefully between his legs so your back rests against his chest. The heating pad is tucked against your stomach, his large hands covering it to keep it in place. His chin rests lightly on top of your head.
“Just lean on me, I've gotcha.”
As you do, slowly the pain starts to blur under the combination of medicine, heat, and the solid warmth of him wrapped around you. Satoru stays quiet for a long time, only occasionally pressing a gentle kiss to your hair or adjusting the heating pad when it shifts.
After a while his voice comes again, low and a little teasing but still impossibly soft.
“You know, you should've just called me, baby.”
“I know, but I really thought those pain meds would help me.”
“Yeah, I think the stronger ones do the trick. But, I think the real secret weapon is just me. Obviously.”
You manage a tiny, exhausted smile against him. His arms tightening just a fraction.
“Sleep if you can,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere. Not ever when you’re hurting like this.”
His thumb strokes slow, steady circles over the back of your hand. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the heating pad and the even rhythm of his breathing.
For the first time all evening, your pain finally feels like it’s going away.
this is my second time ever writing a fluff fic and idkkk, i also had some fire ideas for an ao’nung and a neteyam fic while on vacation but i forgot them UGH. i’ll definitely be coming up with more ideas for them soon thoughh !!
♡ summary: after two terrible days, all you want is to use your boyfriend as a mattress. unfortunately for you, gojo satoru is very easily distracted.
♡ warnings: 18+ mdni • explicit sexual content • established relationship • oral (f!receiving) • multiple orgasms • piv sex • praise • possessive language • dirty talk • creampie • fluff
♡ author’s note: this was inspired by a post from @silentlunarkiss based on this fanart 😭 i screenshotted it immediately because i knew i wanted to write it, then somehow lost the original post before i could tag them. finally found them again!! ♡
banner by @pixopix
The apartment is quiet when you finally drag yourself through the door, your work bag feeling like it weighs a thousand pounds. Your feet are killing you, your brain is fried, and all you want is to collapse into bed and not move for approximately twelve hours.
You kick off your shoes and shuffle down the hallway, already pulling your hair out of the bun you'd done up that morning, now mostly falling out on its own. The bedroom door is cracked open, and when you push it wider, you find exactly what you were hoping for.
Satoru is sprawled across the bed like a starfish, still wearing his teaching clothes—black pants and a rumpled button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His blindfold is tossed carelessly on the nightstand, and his white hair is an absolute disaster, sticking up in every direction like he's been running his hands through it all day. His eyes are closed, one arm thrown over his face.
He looks as exhausted as you feel.
"Rough day?" you ask, and he groans without moving.
"The first years tried to fight a curse three grades above their level because Yuji said it 'looked easy,'" he mumbles into his arm. "I had to bail them out. Again. Then Megumi and Nobara got into an argument about mission protocol that somehow turned into a full-blown screaming match about who ate whose leftovers from the fridge. I had to separate them like they were toddlers."
Despite your exhaustion, you snort. "Sounds about right."
"And then," he continues, finally moving his arm to peek at you with one brilliant blue eye, "Yaga cornered me about paperwork I was supposed to file last week. Do you know how much I hate paperwork?"
"I'm aware." You're already moving toward the bed, unbuttoning your work pants. "You complain about it literally every time."
"Because it's the worst. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I shouldn't have to file incident reports."
"Mm-hmm, very tragic." You shimmy out of your pants and leave them in a heap on the floor—a problem for future you. Your blouse follows, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. "My day was also shit, for the record."
"Yeah?" He's watching you now with lazy interest, too tired to even sit up but still tracking your movements.
"My boss is an idiot, the coffee machine broke, I had to sit through a two-hour meeting that could've been an email, and Janet from accounting passive-aggressively cc'd the entire department on an email about someone stealing her lunch. Which, for the record, I didn't do, but she definitely thinks I did based on the way she was glaring at me."
"Want me to hollow purple Janet from accounting?" he offers, completely serious.
"Tempting, but no." You crawl onto the bed and without ceremony, flop directly on top of him, your full weight pressing him into the mattress. You bury your face in his chest with a long, dramatic groan. "I'm dead. This is me, dead."
"Hi, dead. I'm also dead." His arms come around you automatically, wrapping you up even though you're both too tired to really move. "We're both corpses now. This is our life."
"Our death," you correct, muffled against his shirt.
"Our death," he agrees solemnly.
For a moment, you just lie there, breathing in sync. He smells like his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the training grounds—sweat and grass and something distinctly him. It's comforting in a way you can't quite articulate. This exhausted, collapsed-together moment feels like home.
His hand starts moving on your back, slow and gentle, rubbing up and down your spine. It feels incredible, and you make an embarrassing sound of contentment that you'll deny later.
"You're tense as hell," he murmurs, fingers working at a knot between your shoulder blades.
"You try dealing with Janet's accusatory emails and see how relaxed you are," you mumble, but you're already melting into his touch.
"I'd just block her."
"You can't block coworkers, Satoru."
"You can if you're powerful enough." His hand slides lower, still rubbing your back, and you feel some of the day's tension starting to ease. "This okay?"
"It's perfect. You're my favorite human pillow."
"Just human pillow? Not devastatingly handsome boyfriend who you're lucky to have?"
"That's implied," you say, but you're smiling against his chest.
His other hand joins the first, both of them working at your tired muscles, and you honest-to-god almost start purring. This is exactly what you needed. Just this—him, the quiet apartment, his hands on you, the weight of the day slowly lifting.
But then his hands start to wander.
It's subtle at first. His fingers drift from your back to your sides, tracing the curve of your waist. Then lower, skimming over your hips. And then—
He grabs your ass. Both hands, full handfuls, squeezing appreciatively.
"Really?" you ask, lifting your head to look at him. "We're both dead, remember? Corpses don't grope."
"I'm a very motivated corpse." He squeezes again, shameless, and there's a grin tugging at his lips now. "Can't help it. You're lying on top of me in your underwear. What did you expect?"
"Self-control? Restraint? Basic human decency?"
"Baby, you know me better than that." His hands are still kneading your ass, and despite your sass, you can feel heat starting to pool low in your belly. "Besides, you love it."
"I love that you can't even wait until we've recovered from our respective terrible days before getting handsy?"
"Exactly." He's fully grinning now, that cocky, insufferable grin that makes you want to kiss him and smack him at the same time. "Your ass is the best stress relief. It's science."
"That's not science, you idiot."
"It's my science."
You snort, but you're not moving away. His hands are warm and familiar, and honestly, after the day you've had, this isn't the worst thing in the world. You let your head drop back to his chest, eyes drifting closed.
"Comfortable?" he asks, voice softer now.
"Mmm," you hum in agreement. "Don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it."
For a while, it's just quiet. His hands keep moving—sometimes squeezing, sometimes just resting there, thumbs drawing lazy circles. You can hear his heartbeat under your ear, steady and strong. The tension in your shoulders is almost completely gone now, replaced by a different kind of warmth, something slower and heavier.
You're half-asleep when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness pressing against your hip.
"Satoru," you mumble, not even opening your eyes.
"Hmm?"
"Are you seriously getting hard right now?"
There's a pause. Then he says, "...Maybe."
You lift your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. He has the decency to look slightly sheepish, but there's heat in his eyes now, that familiar hunger that never really goes away when it comes to you.
"We were having a nice moment."
"We still are."
"You've got a boner."
"I do…That doesn't cancel the nice moment."
You stare at him for another second before letting out a laugh.
"Seriously?"
"What?"
"I come home exhausted, use you as a human mattress for ten minutes, and somehow I'm the problem?"
"You are absolutely the problem."
"I literally haven't done anything."
"You climbed on top of me, got all comfy, made that little happy humming noise, and then fell asleep on my chest."
"I hummed?"
"You hummed."
"I don't hum."
"You do when you're really comfortable."
You narrow your eyes. "I've never noticed that."
"I have."
You glare at him.
"…Baby." He exhales dramatically, like he's carrying the weight of the world. "You're makin' me so hard."
You snort. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm trying to be respectful."
"Are you?"
Silence.
"…No." He grins without an ounce of shame. "Not really."
Despite yourself, you laugh again, dropping your forehead back against his shoulder.
"You're ridiculous."
"I know."
His arms tighten around you just a little. "But you look so comfortable."
His voice is quieter now. "So happy."
You burrow your face further into his shoulder.
"…I like when you're like this."
You feel yourself smile before you can stop it. "You're such a sap."
"Only for you."
There's a comfortable silence. Then his hands drift just a little bit lower again.
"…Okay," you mumble. "Now you're definitely not being respectful."
"No." He gives your ass another shameless squeeze. "I'm definitely not."
Before you can respond, he's sitting up, keeping you in his lap, and capturing your mouth in a kiss that's hungry and demanding. You can taste his desperation, feel it in the way his hands grip you like he's afraid you're going to disappear.
When he pulls back, his lips are already swollen, his eyes are dark with want. "I need to taste you," he says, and it's not a request. "Get up here."
"Up where—"
But he's already moving, sliding down the bed and pulling you with him. "On my face. Come on."
"Satoru—"
"Please." And there it is, that needy edge that makes your stomach flip. "I've been thinking about this all day. About you sitting on my face, riding my tongue until you come. Please, baby. I need it."
How are you supposed to say no to that?
"You're ridiculous," you say, but you're already moving, letting him position you. He's lying flat on his back now, looking up at you with such raw want that it makes you shiver.
"Not ridiculous. Desperate." His hands come up to grip your thighs, pulling you forward. "Now stop stalling and sit on my face."
"Bossy," you mutter, but you're lowering yourself down, and then—
"Oh fuck," you gasp as his tongue makes contact, sliding through your folds in one long, deliberate stroke.
He groans under you, the vibration going straight to your core, and his hands tighten on your thighs. "That's it," he mumbles against you. "Right there. Don't move."
But you're already moving, you can't help it, grinding down against his mouth as he licks and sucks and devours you like a man starving. His grip on your thighs is almost bruising, holding you exactly where he wants you, and when you try to lift up, worried about suffocating him, about being too much—he just pulls you back down harder.
"Satoru—"
"Stay," he demands, voice muffled. He pulls his face back to look up at you. "Fuck my face. Come on, baby, I can take it. Give it to me." Then he lowers his mouth to you again.
It's obscene, the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the way he's completely lost in it. His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside you, then back to your clit, and you're already shaking, already so close.
"That's it," he encourages, and you can hear the smugness in his voice even now. "You're dripping, baby. such a mess on my face."
"Shut—up," you gasp, but there's no heat in it because he's right—you can feel how wet you are, can feel it on his chin, his lips, and it should be embarrassing but it's just hot.
"Make me," he challenges, and then he's sucking your clit into his mouth, hard, and you cry out.
Your hands fly to the headboard, gripping the edge to steady yourself as the pleasure intensifies. You start to really move now, riding his face with purpose, and he moans underneath you like this is exactly what he wanted all along.
"Fuck, yes," he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp. "Just like that. Use me, baby. Take what you need."
His hands guide your hips, encouraging the rhythm, and his tongue is relentless—circling, flicking, pressing flat against you in a way that makes your thighs shake. You can feel yourself getting closer, that coil of heat tightening in your belly.
"Satoru, I'm—fuck—"
"Do it," he demands, voice rough. "Come on my face.”
His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, and that's all it takes. Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, pleasure rolling through your entire body. You're grinding down against his mouth, riding it out, and he's groaning underneath you like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.
When you finally come down, shaking and oversensitive, you try to move off him, but his hands tighten on your thighs.
"Not yet," he mumbles, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, your hip bones, anywhere he can reach. "Just—give me a second. You taste so fucking good."
"You're gonna kill me," you pant, but you're smiling.
But he's already diving back in, and you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again. Your whole body jolts at the sensitivity, but he doesn't let up—he's relentless, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he works you over. The pleasure is almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and you're already moaning his name.
"Satoru—fuck—it's too much—"
"I know, baby," he groans against you, the vibration sending another wave through you. "But you can take it."
He's eating you out like he's starving, like he can't get enough, and your whole body is shaking. Your hands grip the headboard tighter, your hips moving against his mouth almost involuntarily. The pleasure is building again, impossibly fast, and you're gasping and moaning as he works you toward another orgasm.
"Oh god—Satoru—I'm gonna—"
"That's it," he encourages, his tongue flicking faster.
Your second orgasm hits you like a wave, even more intense than the first, and you're crying out as pleasure crashes through you. Your thighs are shaking so hard you can barely hold yourself up, and he's groaning underneath you, clearly getting off on how much he's affecting you.
When you finally collapse, completely spent and oversensitive, he finally releases you, and you fall onto the bed next to him, breathing hard and trembling.
"And I'm dramatic?" He's grinning like he just won the lottery, his face wet, his hair a complete disaster. "That was—fuck. I love you, baby."
"You're insane," you say, but you're pulling him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
"About you? Absolutely." His hands are already roaming again, cupping your face, then sliding down your sides. "But I'm not done with you yet."
"Oh really?"
"Really." He's kissing you again, slower this time, deeper. When he pulls back, there's something vulnerable in his expression beneath all the confidence. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Then show me," you challenge, and his eyes darken.
"Oh, baby."
He's fumbling with his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers, and his cock springs free—flushed and hard and already leaking. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length, and he hisses.
"Fuck, baby—"
"What?" You stroke him slowly, base to tip, and he's already trembling.
"Your hands—shit—they're so much smaller than mine. Look so good wrapped around my cock."
"Yeah?" you tease, giving him another slow stroke.
"Yeah." His voice is strained.
He gently removes your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, and then he's pulling you against him. His arms wrap around you, one hand sliding up your back, the other gripping your hip possessively. You can feel him, hard and hot against your thigh, and he's just... holding you there.
"Satoru—"
"Give me a second," he murmurs, his voice already rough. His breathing is uneven against your neck, and you can feel the tension in his body—the way he's trying to maintain control. "Just—fuck—you feel so good.”
His hips shift slightly, and you feel the length of him drag against you—not entering, just the pressure of him sliding through your wetness. The friction makes you gasp, and he groans.
"There it is," he breathes. "That sound. The little gasp you make when I—" He does it again, a slow roll of his hips, grinding against you. "When I touch you just right."
"Satoru, please—"
"Please what?" His hand slides down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him. "Tell me what you want, baby."
"You know what I want."
"I do." Another slow grind, and you can feel how wet you are, how easily he slides against you. "But I wanna hear you say it. Love the way your voice gets all breathy when you're desperate for me."
"You're killing me—"
"Good." He's kissing your neck now, teeth grazing your pulse point. "You've been killing me all day. All week. Every time you look at me with those eyes, every time you smile at me like I'm the only person in the world—fuck, baby, you have no idea."
His voice is shaking now, and you realize he's not teasing anymore—he's barely holding on. The head of his cock catches at your entrance, and you both freeze.
"I can't—" His forehead drops to your shoulder. "I can't think straight around you. Can't control myself. You just—you exist, and I'm gone."
"Then stop trying to control it," you whisper, and you feel him shudder.
"Fuck." He shifts, lining himself up properly, and then he's pushing in—slowly, so slowly. The stretch is intense, pleasure edged with the sweetest hint of pressure as he fills you inch by inch. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight. So perfect."
"Satoru—"
"I know. I've got you." He's only halfway in, taking his time, letting you adjust. His forehead is still pressed to your shoulder, and you can feel how much restraint this is taking him—the way his muscles are tense, the way his breath comes in short gasps. "You're taking me so well. You always take me so well."
Finally, finally, he's fully seated inside you, and you both just breathe for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of being completely connected.
"Okay?" he asks, lifting his head to look at you.
"Yes baby," you manage. "You can move.”
"Thank fuck." He pulls out slowly, almost all the way, and then thrusts back in. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you gasp, and he groans. "That sound. Fuck, I love that sound."
He sets a steady rhythm, deep and deliberate, each thrust making you feel impossibly full. His hands are everywhere—cupping your face, tangling in your hair, gripping your hips—like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most.
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, watching your face. "All flushed and breathless. The way your eyes get all hazy when I'm inside you—fuck, it drives me crazy."
"Satoru—"
"I love you so much." His voice is rough with emotion now, not just desire. "Love everything about you. The way you feel, the way you look at me, the way you let me have you like this—"
"I love you too," you gasp, and his hips stutter.
His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and when he opens them again, there's something raw there.
"Say it again."
"I love you."
"Fuck." His pace falters, becomes less controlled. "You can't—you can't just say it like that when I'm inside you. You're gonna—shit—"
"You feel so good," you tell him, cupping his face. "So perfect. You always make me feel so good."
His breath catches, and suddenly he's kissing you desperately, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, less measured.
"You're everything," he gasps against your mouth. "Everything to me. The way you trust me, the way you look at me like I'm—fuck, baby, I can't—"
"You are," you insist, and his composure cracks completely.
"Fuck—" He's moving faster now, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. "Love how you fit around me. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."
"We were," you gasp, and his eyes flash with something fierce and possessive.
"Damn right we were." He shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly every thrust is devastating. "There it is. That's the spot, isn't it?"
"Yes—fuck—right there—"
"I know, baby. I know." His voice is breaking now, emotion and desire tangled together. "Gonna make you come again. Wanna watch your face when you—fuck—when you come because of me."
The pleasure is building so quickly you can barely breathe. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, his back, trying to anchor yourself as he drives into you again and again.
"That's it," he encourages, watching your face like he's memorizing it. "I can feel you getting tighter. You're close, aren't you? So fucking close."
"Don't stop—"
"Never." One of his hands slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me see you."
The combination of his cock hitting that perfect spot and his thumb on your clit is too much. Your orgasm hits you hard, pleasure crashing through you in waves that make your whole body tense and shake. You're clenching around him, and he groans at the sensation.
"Fuck, yes," he breathes, still moving, fucking you through it. "That's it. That's my girl. You're so good. So beautiful. Fuck, I love you so much."
When you finally start to come down, gasping and trembling, you expect him to follow you over the edge. But instead, he slows his movements, pressing soft kisses to your face.
"Satoru—"
"Not done with you yet," he murmurs against your lips.
Before you can respond, he's pulling out and lifting your legs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position opens you up completely, and when he pushes back in, he's somehow even deeper than before.
"Oh fuck—" you gasp, and he groans.
"There we go." He starts moving again, and this angle is devastating. Every thrust feels impossibly deep, hitting places that make your toes curl. "How's that, baby? That good?"
"Yes—fuck—Satoru—"
"I love you so much," he says, his voice rough. "You know that? I'm never letting you go. You're mine. Always gonna be mine."
"Yours," you agree breathlessly, and something in his expression goes even more intense.
"That's right." His thrusts are harder now, more purposeful. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna love you for the rest of my life."
His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down, and suddenly his eyes go wide. He can feel himself inside you, the bulge of his cock with each thrust, and something feral takes over his expression.
"Holy shit," he breathes, completely mesmerized. His hand traces the outline, feeling himself move in and out of you, and he starts fucking you even harder, unable to look away. "Look at that. Look at you taking me so deep."
You're already building toward another orgasm, the intensity of this angle and his words and the way he's looking at you like you're the most incredible thing he's ever seen—it's all too much.
He's transfixed, watching his cock disappear inside you again and again, feeling the movement under his palm. His breathing is ragged, his movements becoming more frantic.
"Can you feel that, baby?" he asks breathlessly, his voice completely wrecked. "Fuck—I'm so fucking deep—you feel that?"
You look up at him with half-shut glazed eyes, your mouth parted open, completely fucked out. "Yes—fuck—yes, Satoru, I feel it—"
He groans at the sight of you—at how thoroughly wrecked you look, at the way you're falling apart beneath him. "You're so hot. So fucking hot. The way you look right now—fuck—I'm obsessed with you."
He's fucking you harder now, more urgently, his hand still on your stomach feeling himself move inside you with each thrust. The visual seems to drive him wild, and his movements become almost desperate.
"Come for me again," he demands, his other hand finding your oversensitive clit. "I know you can. I know you've got one more in you. Come on, baby. Give it to me."
"Satoru—I can't—it's too much—"
"You can." His thumb presses harder, circling your clit. "You can, baby. I need you to.”
The pleasure is building impossibly fast, almost painful in its intensity. You're so sensitive from your first two orgasms that every thrust, every touch feels magnified.
"That's it," he encourages, watching your face. "I can see it. You're right there. Just let go, baby.”
His voice is breaking, his control completely shattered, and then something raw escapes from him.
"I want you—" His hips snap forward harder. "Fuck—want all of you.”
His composure finally snaps.
"They've been on my ass my whole life about the bloodline. About heirs. About duty." Another hard thrust, his voice is cracking. "And I never—fuck—never wanted it."
He's breathing hard, almost gasping between words.
"Not until you."
His forehead drops closer to yours, his movements becoming more frantic.
"Only you. Want to marry you—want to wake up to you every day—want to call you my wife and—ah—know you're mine—"
Your orgasm crashes through you even harder, triggered by his words, by the desperation in his voice, by the sight of him completely undone above you. You're clenching around him so tight he gasps, your whole body shaking with the intensity.
"Fuck, yes—" He's just… staring at you, still moving, still feeling himself inside you. "So beautiful—The way your face—the way you sound—fuck—"
The sight of you completely wrecked under him, the feeling of you clenching around him, the way you gasp his name—it pushes him over the edge.
"Ah—fuck—fuck—fuuckk—" He buries himself as deep as he can go and comes hard, spilling into you in hot pulses. His whole body shudders with the intensity of it, and you can feel him throbbing inside you, can feel the warmth spreading.
He collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you but clearly boneless. For a while, you just breathe together, sweaty and satisfied.
"Holy shit," you mumble.
"Yeah." He's pressing kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He can’t seem to stop touching you, his hands running over your skin like he needs the contact. "You're amazing. Incredible. Best girlfriend in the entire world."
"Best girlfriend, or best pussy?" you tease, and he pulls back to look at you with mock offense.
"Both. Definitely both." He's grinning now, that soft, genuine smile that he only gives you. "But mostly you. I love you. Like, so much. An embarrassing amount."
"I love you too, you needy disaster."
"Your needy disaster," he corrects, and he's still touching you, hands running over your skin like he can't bear to stop. "Mine now. No takebacks."
"Wouldn't dream of it," you say softly, and you mean it.
He pulls you closer, tucking you against his chest, and you can hear his heartbeat starting to slow. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back in, but it's different now—satisfied, content, the good kind of tired.
"We should probably shower," you murmur, but you're already half-asleep.
"Later," he mumbles into your hair. "Right now I just wanna hold you."
"Clingy."
"Yep." He doesn't even sound ashamed. "You're stuck with me. Forever. Hope you're ready for that."
"I think I can manage," you say, smiling against his chest.
And as you drift off in his arms, you think that yeah… you can definitely manage. This ridiculous, needy, perfect man is yours, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
art in the banner is by @3-aem ! god they make the juiciest art, go follow <3
Pairings - Your mom's boyfriend Satoru x F! reader
Summary- here's just one thing worse than having to stay with your estranged mom for just a few days while your apartment is getting renovated - and that's the six foot four white haired man banging her out every night. And does he own a fucking shirt!? You can't stand being around them, your mom's much younger boyfriend who's closer to your age. What's worse is... you liked him first. He's arrogant, annoying and you're disgusted by him - he doesn't actually make you wet that's... nothing!? And you don't want to fuck him, not at all! No way you wanna fuck your bitch ass mom's boyfriend. right?
Warnings - oh boyyy aha, forbidden love, abusive mother (reader) mentions of past eating disorders, verbal abuse from reader's mom, sm tension and build up, sex doesn't happen till after Toru tells your mom byeee, but fingering does happen before that, oral (f and m receiving) backshots while on the phone with your mom -yeppp - damaged ass reader and Satoru, they have issues, hints of stepcest I guess but he's not rly your stepdad lol, Satoru is 32, reader is 22 so AGE GAP, reader calling him daddy as a joke - maybe. Oneshot - WC - 13.2k
This is literally so toxic aha, my mommy issues haven't gone away. read the warnings! and if you fuck with this brand of crazy, I'll see you in the comments
The first day staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo
Staying at your mom's for a couple weeks was horrible to say the very least, not just because she was an insane bitch, and not just because you swore you'd never come back here. Not because the memories of being in your old room - transformed into a mural of her pictures and crowns from various pageants she’d been in, you think she changed it the same day you left.
No, not because you love having your freedom, and busted your ass to make sure you never have had to stay here, not because you hadn’t talked to her in so long you have no clue what to say to each other. And not just due to the fact that she was only allowing you here because your father called and asked her to do one favor for once - he lived way too far away.
No, there was another reason that you were miserable, and that was the moans emanating from the next room.
How many rounds could that man go?
And did she have to scream so loud!?!
You slam a pillow on your face, screaming into it while your mom is screaming out - Gojo! There, there! - and then to make it worse, you hear a filthy smack. You feel nauseated at this point, about to throw up if you had to hear one more moan, when finally he seems to finish up.
Jesus, that was a longer session than usual. Does the man do anything but fuck you’re really not certain. Huffing, you throw off the covers of the little futon she’d so graciously brought out, the woman was well off, mind you, but none of that ever helped you any. You wonder if he’s after her money or something, because he was gorgeous, but you suppose your mother was as well.
It still seemed odd, he wasn’t much older than you, but it’s not as if your mom wasn’t notorious for fucking younger guys - even some of your high school friends as soon as they turned eighteen. That was one of the reasons your dad moved out of the country, and you couldn’t blame him for it, she was by far the worst human being, but everyone didn’t know that.
In fact, it was really only you and your dad, along with a couple close friends of yours that knew how horrible she was. Keeping custody of you - for ‘appearances’ - had been hell. But everyone saw her as the ideal, doting mother - after all she spent all her time taking you to every competition there was, and made sure you looked and acted perfect for them.
As soon as you shed the ‘perfect image’ she decided to quit acting.
Shaking off reminiscent thoughts, you get up now and walk over to the door, glaring at the endless photos of her in bikinis and gowns, no one loved themselves more than your mother did, truly. You peek out and notice it’s finally gone quiet in that room, heading to the kitchen to grab a water, downing it to fight back the nausea.
That’s when he walks out, smirking at you, shirtless, nothing but boxers slung over his narrow hips - the reason this was even worse for you.
Satoru Gojo.
"Gimme, I'm dehydrated." This mother fucker snatches the watter bottle then, gulping it down, you watch his Adam's apple Bob as he does, sweat dripping across perfectly sculpted abs. You stare for a moment as your mom walks out, or should you say waddled out, glaring at you now.
"Gojo, come back to bed." She doesn't acknowledge you, and Satoru frowns a bit, the never ending tension between you two prevalent. Satoru actually never knew she had a daughter till he saw you come to the house yesterday, but she sure doesn't seem to have any affection- in fact she hasn't even introduced you properly to him, it was more - this is my daughter.
"Need a break." Gojo says, you bend down to snatch up your bottle, and he can't help but eye your ass in those shorts, looking away quickly now.
There was a big problem staying at his girlfriend’s house for the past couple nights, and that was -
Satoru wants to fuck his girlfriend's daughter.
His girlfriend is forty five, Satoru is thirty two. And it just so happens you're twenty two, so you’re honestly closer to his age just a bit, but Satoru loves older women, he loves milfs, girls his age or younger were never much interest. He probably has mommy issues, no, he definitely does, there's nothing better than having his head stroked and having a meal made for him after fucking a Milf's brains out-
Except, maybe, getting to ever touch you.
Gorgeous. You're so gorgeous, effortless and seemingly unaware.
You dress in all black, the opposite of what he expected with your mother who was literally beauty pageant winner for her state for years, her crowns are displayed everywhere. But not a single picture of you to be found, and you'd win them all too with your beauty. But you seem to shove it all away, baggy shirts and ripped jeans, you have not a speck of makeup on your face. Big buffalo plaid jackets as if to hide a body he now sees is fucking banging.
Your mom scowls over at you as she ties her robe. "Stop bothering him and go to your room."
"I just got water because hearing you all fuck for hours was making me sick. I'm not bothering him. He took my water."
"I don't care, when are you leaving again?" You blink a bit.
"I told you it's just a week while they're fixing that roof leak, and I won't bother you again. I'd have asked dad but I can't be that far from work."
"The sooner the better, and don't judge me for having a life, my sentence of you is over now." Satoru pauses, the woman he's been with for months was always sweet and perfect, until you got here.
Seeing your eyes water he clears his throat. "She wasn't bothering me, I did snatch her water up."
Your mom's face has plastered back on a fake smile, the beauty queen smile that’s so cold it makes you shiver, as she brushes up and down Satoru's bare arm, you hate how pretty he is. How much you think of him, and how her hand is all over him, it makes your stomach turn.
"You're right, sorry sweetie I'm just tired." She cooes, all fake she comes and hugs you. Satoru frowns, hoping he read that wrong, you stand still, unmoving, eyeing him over your mom's shoulder then. "I'll try to be quieter -" she leans against your ear. "So you're not so jealous of me hmm?"
You bite back tears, shoving her off. Satoru hadn't heard anything so he has no clue as she comes up to him that you're sobbing in your room. You almost forgot how much you hate that bitch. Yes, you hate your mother. Who pushed you beyond your means to compete when you were younger, damn near starving and working you to perfection, and when you turned eighteen and threw all your tiaras in the trash, lit your gowns and sashes on fire, she never fucking forgave you.
You haven't talked to her in four years, tired of living in her goddamn shadow, your father left her ten years ago and you see why. He hates her as much as you. They fought all the time over letting you have a choice of who to move with, but she ultimately won custody.
And now she takes the guy you were thinking of working up the courage to talk to.
Satoru Gojo.
You saw him every day as you studied at that coffee shop right by your college, flirting with everyone, so light and free with his bright smile and confidence, while you wallowed in the corner. But you never did say hi, you're sure he never saw you, but to come home and find him shirtless and grinning was almost too much.
Your apartment unfortunately had a horrible leak upstairs and you had to leave, this was the last place you expected but it was right across from work. Never asking her for a thing you hoped maybe you could mend some bridges, but she's as cruel, beautiful and cold as ever. As a younger girl, you craved to have any of her attention, looked up to her, but now you know it’s not worth anything.
Maybe that's the type of woman a guy like Satoru Gojo went for, not you.
What did it matter!? He’s as off limits as it gets.
You hear them moaning again and shove in your earbuds, throwing a blanket over your head and praying for the week to end.
*****
Three days of staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo
“Shit, sorry…” You’ve stepped right into the bathroom while Satoru’s walking out the next morning, skin glistening with the shower he just took, steam rising out of the door behind him. He smirks down at you as you careen into him damn near, hitting his hard body and almost falling before he catches you.
“Sorry for what?” He sets you right, lazy in his assessment of your face, blue eyes impossible to read, while your eyes drift across his nearly naked body, falling to the towel that’s not hiding shit, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “What, never seen a naked man? You freak out all the time.”
“Well if you ever wore any fucking clothes,” you shove him out of your way, scowling at his smirking face. “What?”
“You’re cute. Bet you’re a whole virgin.”
“Oh fuck yourself, none of your business, fucking Mrs. Robinson.” Satoru chuckles now while your hands brush against his slippery skin a little too long, making him pause, seeing color decorate your cheeks. He falters then, looking down at you, so clearly unused to any attention, clearing your throat and dropping your hand.
“How do you know what Mrs. Robinson is, you’re a baby.” He teases, arm resting in the doorway, that towel daring to dive lower with every moment, you avert your eyes now, digging out your makeup bag from the drawer to wash your face.
“You’re not much older than me, right?”
“Ten years older. You’re still a baby.”
“I’m closer to you than she is.” He blinks a bit, you wish he’d leave, but he’s just lingering like a little fucking pest.
“I guess. You’re nothing like her.” You scoff then, he didn’t mean it as an insult but he sees it is one, your jaw setting while you dry your face with a soft towel, and fuck if you’re not prettier bare faced than anyone he’s seen with a face full of product.
He shouldn’t think like that.
“I’m definitely nothing like her.”
“You don’t call her mom, huh?” He raises a brow, while you’re slathering serum on your skin, cool and tacky as it dries, counteracting the steam and the overheating of your skin from his proximity.
“No, I don’t. It’s none of your business, you all will be back to an empty love shack in days.”
Satoru chuckles then, shaking his head as you glare up at him. “Love shack, what’s with these old ass references?”
“I enjoy old things too, just like you enjoy old women.” He snorts now, rolling his eyes.
“She’s not old to me, one day you’ll be there too.”
“Sure will and won’t be fucking dudes that look like babies.” Satoru leans forward then, that perfect, pretty face right against yours, you freeze when he tilts your chin up, breath brushing across your lips.
“I’m no baby.” His whisper is too much, you swallow nervously, stepping back while he wreaks havoc on your nervous system, heart hammering when his snowy lashes lower, hand falling. “Why do you care what she does and with who?”
“I don’t. But I am not surprised, she was a hit at the high school graduation party.” He blinks in confusion at your words, you shake your head now. “You’re new to her. I almost feel bad for you.”
“Do you now…” You shove him aside, hating how good his skin feels again, hating whatever the fuck he does to your tummy being too close, shoving those thoughts far back.
“I do, she runs through toys like you.”
“We’re dating, not just fucking, you know.” Your lips quirk up, patting his shoulder, only for him to grip your wrist with his huge hand, taking it over, pausing your steps. You turn back to glare at his grip, then up into those arrogant eyes. “You know something I don’t?”
“Let’s just say, she’s a bitch.” You shake him off again. “But you are too.”
“Me!? You’re the mopey, emo little brat glaring daggers at me, sweetheart.” His voice murmurs, his breath against your skin as he leans down, you yank your wrist out of his grip.
“Don’t call me sweetheart!” You hiss as the bedroom door opens, as you two quickly separate, but she’s eyed your proximity, smiling coldly as she assesses you, the look that’s always made you feel so small, holds less than it did before, but it’s still there, the haunting memory of it all.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” She says it so nasty to you then, you just glare once more at Satoru and nod, walking past, her hand halting you, her mouth against your ear, making you shiver in disgust. “Stop looking at him, you’ll never have someone like that.”
“I don’t want him.” You whisper back, earning her laugh now, while she fake hugs you, and you just want to fucking fall into a hole.
“Have a great day, honey!” She smiles and steps forward to Satoru, you can’t stop looking back over your shoulder at them, sighing when his eyes catch yours over her shoulder, unreadable - but you swear you see something flicker.
You can’t even think that way.
You’re stupid.
*****
Five days of staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo
The man does not own a tee-shirt, you’re completely convinced - he’s always half naked, as if this is how he exists. Well, he clearly has dress shirts, he wears them when he heads off to run his business, you’re not even sure what that job entails, apparently some trust fund baby considering he’s never there. He left for the past couple of nights to go home, thank god.
When he does he brings her with him and she doesn’t come back until late, driven home in some fancy limo, but you get a reprieve.
You suppose he looks good in his Armani suits as he leaves every morning though, always getting some breakfast made from ‘mommy’- yuck. You have to watch them kissing in the kitchen as you fight waves of nausea, but the past couple days you haven’t heard that ridiculous fucking, and he barely kisses her, eyeing you intently when he does press his lips on her cheek.
“Satoru, do you have to go to work today?” She pouts as she blinks those long lashes at him, and he sighs, smiling and touching her cheek, as you vividly wish it was you, which you hate yourself for. You avoid his eyes, sipping on coffee before you head to work yourself.
“I do honey, don’t worry I’ll come stay tonight.” She pouts again, he just smiles a little stiffly, walking out as you head out the door, hands touching the knob at the same time, making you both pause. You clear your throat, pulling your hand back like it’s on fire, as he lets you out first, feeling your mom’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head.
“Want a ride to work?” He asks quietly, heading over to the black car with a driver holding the back door.
“You don’t drive, huh?”
“Why should I when I can pay someone too.” His pretentious smirk again has you itching to smack him, but the thought of not having to catch a bus is tempting. “You know you wanna.”
“Whatever. Thanks I guess.” He bows as if he’s some gentleman and not an idiot, you slide in next to him, sighing as his thighs spread way too far, brushing against yours. “Manspread much?”
“You hate me don’t you?” You blink in confusion, looking away and biting that lower lip, the lip that fucks him up mentally to look at. Being this close to you alone is making his body react, his pulse racing, even as he keeps a neutral look, he aches to drag your lips against his.
He’s been trying to avoid you since that morning in the bathroom when you touched his chest, burning his skin like a brand. The pull is too much, to where he can hardly remember what he was thinking with your mom. She’s gorgeous, she’s his type, she’s got everything Satoru needs after spending the day at his boring ass family company, but her daughter won’t stop tempting him.
How he saw your breasts spill out of your tank top this morning, your scent that he can’t describe filling a room, it’s all horrible - and shit timing, as now your mom has been talking about getting more serious. Before he saw you, he was hopelessly enamored with her beauty, her clear confidence, but he can’t stop looking at the shy, insecure girl far too eagerly.
He’d show you how gorgeous you were if he had a chance-
The fuck is wrong with him?
You’re her daughter.
“I don’t hate you, Gojo.” You say softly, turning to look up at him now, so much pain behind your eyes it nearly takes his breath away.
“You sure act like it.”
“I know. I have to.” You clear your throat nervously, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, his fingers itching to sweep it back, breath catching when you look up at him, eyes so intense he can’t look away.
“Why do you have to hate me?” He asks quietly again, trying to remember - you’re young, you’re his girl’s daughter, while you remember, he’s your mom’s boyfriend, and you can never act on anything.
“You know the answer,” you whisper, leaning forward a bit, when he leans down, the car cruising gently through the busy streets, entrapping you both in the black tinted windows. “Don’t you?”
“Do I? Seems like you hate her, and I’m hated by default,” he brushes that hair back finally, the contact bringing heat to your cheek, he feels it against his fingers, exhaling when you don’t pull back. “Do you have a good reason to hate her?”
“I do.”
“What-” The car comes to a stop now, jostling you just a bit, as the driver apologizes for hitting the brakes too hard, throwing you right against Satoru’s hard body, you inhale that cologne, expensive and musky, almost making you salivate before he pulls back a bit. “Shit, you okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” You pull back before it feels good, sliding away again and looking out the dark window. “It’s too long of a story.”
“We have a drive to talk.” He wants to talk to you, fuck he wants to do a lot more than talk, last night he’d seen you when he tried to fuck her, and he had to stop, much to her irritation.
He kept fighting the need to jerk it to the memory of your pretty tits, to picture you instead of her, to shove it all down and try to remember himself.
He’d be glad when you weren’t around, tempting him.
“It’s too much to even begin, but… let’s just say living in her shadow, and with her expectations were brutal.” Satoru tilts his head, big hands on his own thighs, sitting still so as not to further touch you, or do more. “I gave up pageants when I turned eighteen and she disowned me.’
“You did them?” He asks softly, you sigh and turn to look back at him.
“Yeah, since I was three. I… don’t wanna get into it all.” He sighs, was it just that your mother was so upset you gave up on her dream? It felt like more. “I don’t hate you though. Okay? Aside from constantly making her scream out like some goat-” he bursts into laughter then, making your eyes narrow. “And never wearing a shirt.”
“You really hate that.” He muses, you want to tell him more about her, but he’s not your therapist, not your friend, and as much as you despise your mother, it’s just not your place to spill it all. So you leave it at that, sighing and pulling out your phone, checking the time.
“Besides all of that you’re okay I guess.”
He smirks just a bit. “I’ll take it.”
“I will never call you step dad.”
“Oh god, fuck I hope you won’t.” You both laugh it off a bit, the tension, the unspoken words in the air, as you slip into a soft silence, the two of you busying yourselves now, both trying to ignore it. Whispering in your minds - it’ll be over soon.
*****
One week of staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo
The amount of stress your mother puts you through is unreal, when Satoru is there at least she puts on enough of a show not to do too much in front of him, as to appear perfect. You went out with a few friends for the night - a much needed getaway, and free drinks - sounds like the perfect remedy for dealing with her bitchiness.
You wish you just had some extra money for a hotel, but you just paid all your bills and pay day is a couple days away. As soon as that came in you were going to just grab a hotel for the last couple of days - they are stupid expensive with the holiday right now, but anything was worth leaving her as quickly as you can.
Stumbling in, your mother eyes your clothes with disdain. “You look like a slut.”
You snort in laughter at that, opening the fridge and grabbing another drink out, the seltzers you bought to knock out at night when you had to hear her and Satoru fucking. You crack it open and sit on a chair, crossing your legs that are well revealed in the dress that does barely cover anything. You look hot as fuck though, you already know it.
“Says the woman who had like an entire frat run a train on her in her forties?” You raise a brow, and your mom smacks you right in the face, you smile nastily at her. “Ya mad your ass can’t wear this shit anymore?”
“You’re a stupid little bitch, everything I did for you - and you turn out like this?”
“What, work for a living? A degree? How’d I turn out so bad.” You swipe your cheek then, and her gaze drifts across you with cold eyes - the same color as yours, but they just have no fucking soul to them.
“The biggest disappointment. You could have had a modeling career, but now you’ve let yourself go.”
“Let myself go?”
“Remember how you looked senior year?” You shrink back at her nasty words, biting at your lower lip then, you try to act tough but it’s difficult at times to not let old insecurities hit.
“I was starving because of you.”
“Exaggeration, my god. I did that so you could look your best.”
“My best, huh? I think I look hot, so you can suck a dick. Where is Satoru, by the way? Can he shove one in your mouth?” You smile as your mom gasps, and that’s when the door opens, and you hear Satoru’s footsteps on the floor, still rubbing your stinging cheek as your mother instantly puts on her front.
“You’re a little bitch.” Your mom whispers, yanking your drink out of your hand then, slamming it on the table. “What a waste of your looks, down the drain.”
Usually your mom would stop when Satoru got here - perhaps your saving grace was that. But as he walks into the kitchen, his snowy lashes blink in confusion at seeing her. You catch his eye over her shoulder, smiling then. “Why don’t you fuck her so she’ll be in a good mood again?”
Your mom gasps as you take your drink back, standing and getting away from her overwhelming presence, taking a breath and acting ‘normal’ while Satoru’s gaze drifts across your outfit slowly. You feel every inch of your skin caressed by blue eyes, like he’s touching you.
You can’t think that way, even if she’s a bitch.
“What’s wrong?” He asks then, setting down his jacket, your mother finally seems to notice he’s there, putting on a pretty pout and batting her lashes.
“Just her being mean to me, Satoru.” She walks up to his arms, and you laugh then, so loud you’re crying, swiping tears as you truly feel you’re losing it, seeing her run her long red nails across Satoru’s chest as he looks at you.
There’s too much in the look.
“Maybe if you get dick in your mouth you’ll shut up.” Your words earn your mom’s mouth wide open, while you stretch, knowing half your breasts are fucking out, your thighs fully revealed in the short, tight skirt, hoping to piss your bitch mom off more.
It’s petty but.
It works.
You bend over to snatch two more drinks up, and Satoru has trouble tearing his vision from the sight, picturing bending you over and cursing himself for it. Your mom is whining to him, bitching about you, but your evil little smirk towards him and her turns him on more.
“I’ll be gone tomorrow night, then you won’t have to see me again mommy dearest.”
“I know you didn’t just call me that.” Her affronted tone just makes you giggle, drunk honestly, even more, walking back to your old room - her pageant trophy room - and sighing then, leaning against the door.
You can act as if you’re not hurt by her words all you want, but they hit and they hit deep, hearing the quiet murmurs of her and the man you’re fast desiring far, far too much. You slide down to the floor - you’ve talked endlessly about how your mom never loved you to your therapist - but it still feels like shit, not that you think she could love anyone but herself.
After downing your seltzers, you’re thoroughly drunk - something you haven’t been since freshman year of college, when you go out into the quiet kitchen, in search of a bottle of water. You tense when you see a shirtless Satoru, his strong back illuminated by the soft light over the stove as ice clinks into a glass. He turns his head, catching sight of you before you can dip back to the room.
“Hey.” He usually has something snarky to say, but that’s all he manages, turning toward you and leaning on the counter, you try to avoid your gaze on his body, on the light trail of hair under his flat belly button - but you’re too drunk to avoid it.
“You get her off enough? Maybe she’ll be okay tomorrow.” You murmur, and his jaw tenses then, while you walk up, stumbling just a bit when you get to the fridge, one of his hands dart out to your arm, wrapping around it gently. You pause, eyes darting up to his.
“You all right?” You scowl, yanking your arm out of his hold.
“What do you care for?” Your whisper is angry, he sees so much anger, and though he doesn’t exactly know what was said, hurt was written all over your face.
“Can I not care?” He asks softly. You scoff, looking away.
“No, you can’t.” He sighs now, sipping his drink as you bend down, grabbing another drink instead.
“You shouldn’t have more, you’re torn the fuck up.”
“Oh, thanks dad.”
Satoru scowls now. “Don’t call me that.”
“No?” You’re annihilated, he’s absolutely right, removing the barrier you have put up for him, fingers drifting up his chest, bare and hot to the touch. He tenses, as your fingers drift down over his abdomen, and you step closer. “Should I call you daddy?”
Satoru scowls, thin brows deep over his blue eyes, and his cock is throbbing under his sweats, he wills it to go down, feeling like a horrible fucking man. He couldn’t get hard for her tonight, not when every time he was touching her he pictured her daughter instead, pictured how tight and slick he bets your cunt is, pictures your perfect tits in his fucking hands.
“You’re drunk and stupid, sweetheart.” He grips your wrist, as you quietly giggle, and you look far too hot, drunk mess and all. “You’re too drunk to know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing, Gojo. I just hold back when I’m sober.” He exhales, and your eyes dart down, raising a brow when you see a far too impressive bulge. “Need to go fuck mommy some more?”
“You’re a brat.” He whispers, pressing you against the cold steel of the fridge now, a thigh pressing between yours, and your heart races. His proximity has you dripping wet in moments, the strong thigh between yours, his breath ghosting over your lips as he bends down. “Touch me again like that and see what happens.”
“Gonna spank me, step dad?” He pins your wrists right over your head, muscled thigh pressing up against your overheated cunt then. Your eyes roll back, you’re too gone to act like you don’t want him, arching your hips up and earning his soft little moan, as he rests his head down on yours.
“Shut the fuck up, you’re… just shut up.” He whispers, a desperate, needy little voice now. “If you weren’t… If I wasn’t…”
“What, big man? Can’t finish a sentence?” You roll your hips again, he feels you soaking him, he can’t stand how badly he wants to slip his cock inside you then, lift your right on that fridge. “Don’t wanna make mommy mad, do we?”
“I can’t stand you.” His lips are a centimeter from yours then, and your breath catches. “Need me, don’t you? Cunt is soaking wet.”
“It’s n-not.” He smirks, letting your wrists go, you shove at his chest, when he pulls back just a bit, gripping your chin.
“It’s not?” You shake your head and he pulls back his leg, looking down at it. Your entire body heats up as you see it, the wet spot darkening his light sweats. “What’s this then, hmm sweets?”
“N-nothing.” You look down in horror, when he swipes it with his thumb, leaning forward again, silvery white locks falling over his forehead then.
“Nothing?” You nod, and he swipes that thumb over your lips, moaning as they’re coated in a gloss, while your cunt throbs around nothing, aching for his touch.
“Mmm, fuck, why do you have to look like that?” He whispers, lips leaning close again, his hands on your hips, your nails slip up his side, contemplating leaving marks for your bitch ass mom to see - hating yourself for it.
“Go back to bed, mommy will miss you. Go fuck her.” He glares even deeper, just looking far too attractive when his lips brush against yours barely, before there’s a noise and he immediately backs away, as do you, heart pounding. What the fuck were you even doing!? “I’m drunk.”
“Yeah, you are.” He whispers, fists clenching as he huffs, turning and pulling his cock up into the waistband of his sweats, annoyed as shit by your laughter. “You’re such a brat.”
“Am I, or are you just wanting to fuck a mom and a daughter? Didn’t you get off enough al-”
“I can’t fuck her, okay?” You blink a bit at his declaration, you scoff, rolling your eyes. You won’t believe him. “That’s your fucking fault. I’ll be glad when you go.”
“Good, so the fuck will I.” You shove at him now, and he hates the hurt on your face. “Don’t want you, creepy old stepdad.”
“Old!?” You smile, mean and nasty, only making him want to fuck that expression right off your face. “I’m not your fucking stepdad.”
“Sure you’re not.” You pat his bare shoulder, walking past him now, barely able to breathe when you walk back into your room, leaving him cursing, eyes shutting tightly when he leans against the fridge, heart racing.
Satoru Gojo has never hated someone until you, for fucking his brain up and whatever morals he does have. He’s by far not a cheater and never has been, but all he can picture when your mom sucks him is you instead, shutting his eyes and pulling on hair that looks just like yours. He hates whatever the fuck you’ve done to him, and how bad he feels for telling you he wants you gone.
He does want you gone so things go back to normal, he can be the milf fucker he’s always been, he can live his life and fuck away all his problems with the career he’s been shoved into. But laying next to her that night he’s staring at the ceiling, wondering what you taste like.
******
One day left staying under the same roof as Satoru Gojo
You and Satoru have avoided each other completely, you work and come home, packing up the few things you have left so you can stay with a friend who’s offered you to come with her for the next few days. It was tiny and cramped there, but anything was better than staying here, and not just because your mom is an evil bitch who loves to trash you every moment.
It was him, the reason you wanted to leave so fucking bad.
“Should you eat that, honey?” Your mom says, so fake sweet as you nibble on a candy bar, you didn’t eat shit at work so you instantly busted out a snickers.
“Should you fuck men half your age, mommy?” Your mother glares, and Satoru overhears, though he stays in the hall.
“He’s not - also your ass is just looking really big in those shorts, you know.”
“That’s good, I like it.”
“Your hair looks oily.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Your mom scoffs again, snatching the bar and throwing it out, and you glare up at her. “I just care about you. No makeup, you dress like shit, and you’re munching on a candy bar? How much further do you want to let yourself go?”
“I work for a fucking living, I don’t make money off fucking men and having them take care of me. So back the fuck off. I’ll be gone in the morning.”
“Thank god, Satoru can’t stand you.” You blink a bit then, wishing that didn’t hurt as much as it did. You could handle her trashing you in every other way, but the man that you can’t rip your fucking mind from actually hating you stung.
“Huh?”
“He can’t stand you, and you’re not going to come between what I want. I see you, looking at him.” She tilts your chin up then. “You think you’d ever get a man like him? That’s funny. Maybe before, when you were still competing. Now?” She laughs, and you feel tears running unwillingly from your eyes. “Not a chance, so stop dreaming about him.”
“You don’t know shit.” You smack her hand off you. “I’ll leave now.”
“Go right ahead-”
“Hey, what’s for dinner?” Satoru walks out then, and your mom pauses. “Who’s cooking?”
“She’s leaving.” Satoru checks his Rolex on his wrist then, frowning.
“It’s nine already, buses aren’t running. Why not wait till the morning?”
“Because she-” your mom puts back on her airs now, smiling so saccharine and fake. “No, you’re right, Satoru. She should stay and eat some dinner.”
You scoff, since the bitch just threw your only food for the day in the trash - but you do get paid in the morning, and it would be more convenient to just stay. “I’m not eating with you. But I’ll leave in the morning. Good night mommy dearest.”
“I swear to-”
She’s cut off with you shutting yourself in again, laying on the bed and shutting your eyes, wishing her words didn’t cut so deep like knives, stomach growling. Even later when you smell food you don’t come out, until a soft knock is on your door, and you finally drag yourself out of your bed you’re just rotting away and crying in.
“What do you want?” You say softly, looking up at the tall man - who really should wear a fucking shirt - in the doorway.
“You should eat something.” He murmurs softly, you sigh, shaking your head.
“I’m not hungry.” Your tummy inconveniently growls, and he frowns now rather than an amused smirk you’d expect.
“You should eat.” He repeats, shocking you when he grips your hand in his, bringing you out to find he’s set a plate aside for you.
“I don’t need you to feed me.” You nibble while standing, cutting up a piece of chicken however, chewing thoughtfully as he watches you, far too intensely. “What, are you gonna just watch me?”
His heart aches for you then, having overheard her. It all fits with the conversation he had with you in the back of the car, the pressure she had you under all made sense. He’d only seen glimpses of it, her cruelty toward you, but they’re glaringly apparent. When she’d tried to fuck him earlier, and brought you up, he couldn’t do anything with her, thanking god she went to sleep early.
He needed to see you.
You were so clearly not okay from her.
“Stop acting like you care.” You murmur then, nibbling another bite, not even sitting at the seat before you turn away.
“Finish eating.” His commanding tone is far too fucking sexy, in fact all of him is - and you could almost forget about last night, in your drunken haze, but the problem is you remeber it vividly, tasting your arousal on your lips.
“You don’t tell me what to do. I have a dad.” He laughs without humor then, shaking his head and leaning low, pressing one hand on the wall, lifting your chin with the other.
“Stop acting like I’m even close to old enough to be your dad.” You bite your lower lip that trembles, you inhale that hundred dollar a spray cologne that’s haunted your fucking senses all week.
“You fuck my mom, so.” Your little glare hits him so good, your mean little words that just make him more obsessed with you, picturing you constantly. He’d jerked off in his office just remembering your heat against his thigh today - simultaneously feeling horrible and the inevitable pull of you, intoxicating like the liquor he’d drunk to just lay next to her last night.
He can’t get hard around her - not when you’re in the next room.
“Does that make you mad, that I fuck her?” He asks then, your scowl deepens, teeth clenched as you shove at his chest.
“Why would it?”
“Seems like it bothers you,” his fingers brush your hair back, goosebumps rise on your skin, tummy clenching with the hot desire. “Seems like you’d want me inside you instead.”
“Ah, you wish, conceited ass of a man. I don’t want you.” You’re lying through your teeth, and it’s like he knows, the blue eyes seeing right through your fucking bullshit. “You don’t want me either, so stop fucking with me.”
“I don’t?” He’s close, too close, you shove him away then, shaking your head, her words ringing in your fucking ears.
He’d never want you
Out of your league
You’re nothing
Maybe they did still get you, words you’d long since stopped giving her the ability to speak. Years of striving for her affection, of wanting to be perfect and win so that you could get just a bit of her praise. The moment you broke free was the best time you can remember, throwing those tiaras away - but you fear you’re just barely a step away from falling back into the sadness that she caused.
Worse is this tall, beautiful fucking man acting interested.
“You would never want me,” his mouth drops open at that. “So stop fucking acting like it.”
“You think I don’t!?” You scoff, walking away now, heading to the bathroom to perhaps put some water on your face, but this fucker follows you in, shutting the door, coming up behind you now, and you see his reflection in the soft lighting around the mirror, see the way he’s looking at you.
“Get out. Stupid. I’m not your milf okay?” You gasp then, as he tilts your chin so that you catch his brilliant blue eyes, the bathroom is too small suddenly, when his chest presses against your back.
"Look at me," Satoru whispers, you shake your head, tears falling. "I said look at me." He tilts your chin to look to the side as he leans over you.
"What?" You whisper through your teeth, trying to be quiet in the dark room, as Satoru’s hand slips down your bare arm, the other arm wrapping your waist, dragging you against his hard body. You whine out softly at it, being pressed against him, before you can stop yourself. When he leans lower, cool breath against your lips.
"You're beautiful, okay? So fucking beautiful..." You shake your head at that, earning his sigh, gripping your chin so tightly you feel his strength, only making the sweet ache worse. "You are. All I can think of is fucking my girlfriend’s daughter on every surface, you know what that fucking does to me?" His hushed, desperate voice makes your tummy clench with desire.
You have tried to fight it, but the resolve weakens every second you stare into his cerulean gaze, words you don’t want to accept. "Satoru... I… mnh!"
“Shh, sweetheart,” he groans now, shaking his head, kissing up your neck as his hand splays your stomach, drifting to your heat, breaths faster and heavier, mixing with yours. "Is it just me? Being fucking horrible?"
You shake your head, crying out softly when he finds your hot cunt over your shorts, soaking the thin fabric of them immediately. He moans so sexy against your ear, as the longing keeps swirling around the two of you. "You're not horrible, I am..."
"No, she's a fucking bitch. I didn't know she... was that mean. I like psychos, but that?” Your eyes shut, ass brushing against his thighs, feeling his hardness press against the small of your back.
“She’s just how she’s always been. Mnh… you shouldn’t.”
“I know I shouldn’t, okay? Fuck, you just take it. Let her treat you that way, why don’t you stand up to her, hmm?” His fingertip finds your clit, pressing up as your head falls back, and his cock twitches, aching to come inside you when you soak his fingers through your shorts, gasping and writhing against him.
"I'll be gone tomorrow. It's f-fine... Satoru, what are you… mnh!” You cry out, he brings a hand to your mouth while you watch your reflection in the mirror, he's taking over every sense you have.
“God you're soaked, so fucking hot, so tight.” He leans down, slipping a thick digit in your tight little entrance, making you scream out weakly against his hand. His blue eyes dilate, in the dark, quiet hushed sighs against his hand mixing with the sound of embarrassing wetness echo across the walls. “Lemme make you feel good, hmm?”
You just nod weakly, so tired of pretending like you don’t want him, entranced by the image in the mirror of him overtaking you, fingers angling up as your juices pour down his hand, you whine out, trembling as he keeps hitting just that spot, the one that makes your eyes roll back. Your ass arches back for more, knowing she’s in the next room and could hear or see fucks you up too much.
Your mommy issues clearly are still prevalent.
After hearing all her loud high pitched moans from this man, knowing all of his attention is on you is addictive, his lips brushing the shell of your ear while his fingers curl in your slick walls, gripping him and quivering. “Can you keep quiet so I can see your pretty face when you cum?”
You nod weakly, his words are destroying you, and any resolve you currently have, any part of your brain that knows this is wrong is gone, you want to cum for him, as he is bending low to angle his fingers deeper. You gasp and bite your lip as he does, as the squelches of your hungry cunt echo in the small space.
His breaths come heavy as he feels your walls, as you feel every line of his long - fuck they’re so long - fingers curling against your spot over and over, thumb pressing your twitchy little clit. “Satoru!”
“Shh, sweetheart,” he’s lost in you, cock leaking precum as he studies your face in the dark reflection, feeling you grip him so fucking good, picturing stretching your perfect little cunt out. “Like this?”
You nod, swallowing as you cling to his bare arms, feeling his muscles bunch as he moves his fingers, you are blinded when he rolls his thumb just right, as his other hand grips a breast under your tank top, brushing against your nipple. It’s all too much, you bite back the moans that threaten to rip from your throat, instead whining out softly, gasping and hiccuping as pleasure waves through you.
You’re soaking his fingers, dripping down them when he leans low, capturing your lips, drinking in your little cries as his fingertips brush your spongy spot, over and over, while you shatter in his hold. Your saliva drips across your tongues as his fingers slow, thumb pressing up your twitchy clit again, while you’re lost in his embrace, his taste sweet on your tongue.
You should feel bad you’re dripping down Satoru Gojo’s fingers, had they been inside her earlier? Would he touch her with them? You wish it all didn’t just make you wetter, more sensitive for him, when he eases them out, sucking them into his mouth now, moaning when your flavor hits his tongue, the filthy thoughts just echo louder as your pussy pulses from the aftershocks.
“Fuck you’re so sweet,” he moans then, turning you and lifting you until you’re spread on the counter, your thighs shake as he presses against you, hard and thick, kissing you with your juices dripping across his plump lips. “God I wanna bury my face between your thighs.”
“Satoru, this is insane.” You whisper, as he’s hungrily kissing down your neck, moaning a little too loud. “Shh!”
“Fuck, maybe she should hear,” his eyes are batshit insane then, brilliant blue almost glowing, long fingers spreading your thighs apart. “All I can think of is you.”
“Shut up,” you’re shaking your head, hands slipping through his silky locks as he kisses down your chest. “Fuck me.”
Satoru blinks at that, when you’re reaching down to touch him, he exhales, hands trembling as they hold you, kissing your lips again and losing himself, cock brushing your soaked cunt. He hears the door click across the hall then, pausing and cursing. “Shit…”
“Shit!?” He covers your mouth, glaring with his snowy lashes lowered over his blue eyes.
“Shut up.” He’s kissing you again, hot and desperate as your mom is calling out his name, you can’t stop the soft whine from your lips. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Shut me up.” His hand lifts a thigh, groaning quietly as he hears his fucking name again, cock leaking so much precum, throbbing so much it hurts.
“Satoru honey, where are you?” He sighs now, and you shake your head.
“Go, I’ll stay for a few.” You whisper softly, he is aching to stay, but the situation at present is horrible, and he doesn’t want you getting hurt because he can’t keep his hands off his girlfriend’s daughter.
“Don’t leave tomorrow until we talk.” He says then, against your ear.
“Maybe.”
“Ugh.” You smile a bit at his scowl. “I’ll be right out, just in the bathroom!”
“Okay honey, I miss you.” You feel sick, watching him walk out, you let out a held breath, thighs shaking, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he made you feel better than anyone ever has, that you've never cum like that.
Worse, how he had kissed you?
This was some sick, cruel fucking joke, falling for your bitch ass mother's boyfriend. You can't trust him. You know you need to slip out in the morning, to try to forget him and how good it felt to be in his arms.
******
The last morning staying with your mom
You want to wait for Satoru like he asked, but laying there and counting down the moments until you know the buses run, you couldn’t stay.
You can’t do this, even to her, have some sort of affair?
You can’t be the other woman - especially to your own mother, even if she’s fucking awful, the guilt is eating at you. It would be different if it was some petty revenge to her for all these years, if it was just sexual attraction, but you absolutely know it’s way more with Satoru, kissing didn’t feel like that, nothing felt that good, being consumed by Satoru and losing yourself in him.
You’re trying to slip out that next morning, when Satoru Gojo grips you by your wrist, out of nowhere, you look back and his azure gaze is furious. “I asked you to wait for me.” His tone is so hurt, you can hardly stand it.
“Gojo, we have to forget it.” Your broken words ruin him, he’s breathless as he looks at you, two bags slung over your shoulders. “I shouldn’t have.”
“No, why not?” He caresses your cheek, bending over you then, his sweet breath bringing back the memories that kept you up all night, of kissing him back, of his fingers now on your wrist that were inside you.
“You’re hers.” You hear her then, panicking and shoving at Satoru, but he doesn’t move an inch.
“Get the fuck away from him!” Your mom’s words make Satoru chuckle, and the sight of it confuses the fuck out of you, as he looks back at her, raising a brow.
“I’m pinning her to the door and you’re yelling at her right now?” She sputters, your heart fucking races, the heat creeping up your cheeks, burning as she stomps over to you both, furious so clearly.
When you were younger it would have scared you, but Satoru is here, and in the short week, you oddly trust him, feel the comfort, something to be said about it that you haven’t admitted to yourself yet.
“It’s her trying to take what’s mine, jealous of me always.” She grips your hand, your bag falls to the floor as she scowls down at you. “Never show your face here again, leave my life the fuck alone, stupid little bitch.”
“I didn’t-” She raises her hand as if to smack you when Satoru grabs her wrist, she looks at him in shock.
“You won’t raise a hand to her again, she might not stand up for herself when you do, but I will.” He drops her wrist now, raising a thin brow and bending down, picking up your bag for you.
“Satoru baby, you don’t understand all she’s put me through,” she’s trying to be sweet again, crocodile tears dripping down her cheeks, long lashes blinking, her lip is even trembling. She’s always been great at that. “I don’t want to hurt her, but she is horrible to me.”
“I’ve heard and seen far, far too much this week. You are an evil bitch to her, and you won’t get to be anymore.” He shoves her off him dismissively as she tries to cling to him now, then she scowls at both of you.
“What, because she’s younger!? Is that who you are? Some sick game to fuck us both?”
“No, she’s actually just better than you. In every single way, and you hate it, don’t you? That’s just pathetic.” You look down, unbelieving he’s standing up for you like this, your mom lets out an affronted scoff while Satoru picks up his phone.
“You don’t want her, you can’t.” She’s losing her composure, her act, it’s all falling apart as she starts to panic.
What could be worse than you ever outshining her? You’re supposed to live in her perfect shadow.
“Why are you so jealous of your own kid? You got some crazy issues, you know that? Not even hot crazy, either, just a batshit narcissist.” He clicks his tongue, sighing and smiling down at you, with lidded eyes. “Wanna stay at my penthouse until your apartment is ready, sweetheart?”
“What!?” Your mom is blowing a whole fucking gasket - you should feel bad for stealing her man, but you really can’t find it in you.
“Yes, if you really don’t mind?” Satoru grins, those bright white teeth, and picks up his dark shades off the side table, your mom is tugging on his dress shirt, and he brushes her off, looking over his sunglasses at her.
“Satoru I’m sorry, I just… I was acting out too much. It’s her, the problem! Look how happy we were before?”
“I’m sure there are plenty of young men for you out there, maybe younger than me so they are too dumb to see how fucked up you are.” She’s glaring as he takes your hand in his, and you can’t stop the happy little giggle from your mouth as you both leave, and you hear things getting thrown at the door.
“Satoru, that was insane!?” You whisper, he brushes your hair back then, sighing.
“I wanted it to go a little smoother, that whole exchange. But no, of course you were bratty and didn’t wait.” He tilts your chin up and you kiss him, smiling against his sweet, plush lips.
“You’re not step-dad anymore, maybe the appeal is lost-”
“I’m gonna beat your ass.” He’s scowling as you giggle through your tears, when his car pulls up, he hands your bags off to the driver, climbing in and holding out his hand, tugging you in the back. “You do need a good ass beating.”
“I think I had enough mental beatings,” you grumble a bit, he frowns at that as the car revs up, and he tugs you against his chest. “You noticed?”
“Yeah, hard not to. Last night was when I saw how fucking much she hates you, the way she talks it’s just not how a normal person does. I’m sorry you…”
“I’m good. I promise.” You look up at him then, kissing him softly, while your hand slips down his chest, hearing his hitch of breath.
“You can eat whatever you want at my place, okay? Also your ass is very nice.” You blink back tears, mixing with your tremulous smile from his sweetness, and you’re flustered- you’re literally a wreck.
“You heard it all?” He nods, swallowing, his brows together.
“It’s why I came to you. I’m so disgusted that I even…”
“How could you know? She’s beautiful, she knows how to play people.”
“You’re more beautiful than she could be,” he murmurs, kissing you again, messy and hungry in the back of the huge black luxury car, having you straddle him, your mom’s ex boyfriend, feeling his phone vibrating against your thigh now. “I swear if it’s her I’ll have you cum right on the speaker.”
“Gojo!” He’s sighing, his big hands drifting over your waist, when your phone starts going off too, but you’re too lost in his kisses, in his scent, in how good he fucking feels.
“Feel so good on me, fuck I wanna bury my cock inside you,” he is desperate and needy then, feeling your heat against his cock, when you drop to your knees, making his lips part. “Sweetheart…”
“Want your cock in my mouth,” he’s whining out at that, helping you unbutton and unzip his slacks, until his cock springs free, making you gasp.
You knew it would be big, but you didn’t know it’d be that big, a solid nine inches and thick, veins running and wrapping under his shaft from the base to his blushing pink tip. You moan softly at it, soaking wet under your panties from the sight, that clean yet musky scent. Satoru brushes your hair back softly with long fingers, eyeing you down there, making you feel so sexy with just a gaze.
“Want me to suck you down my throat?” He nods quickly, and you do just that, after spitting on his cock and slathering your saliva as the phone keeps vibrating, but his hands are enwrapped in your hair while you look at him under those lashes.
“Fuck, look at you, can you take it all?” He’s taunting, a mix of devotion and talking shit, so intoxicating you can’t take it, tummy full of so much pressure you whine out at the sensations, gliding his tip inside your mouth now, hot and hungry while you taste him. You swirl your tongue on his tip, fingers brushing across the soft white hair right over his cock.
His eyes never leave yours as you move, as he fucks up into your throat, hissing at just how fucking good your mouth feels, how pretty your eyes are as you look up at him. You’re whining out, vibrating around him, while his hands tug your hair into a ponytail, fucking into your mouth harder, harder, you’re slobbering down his cock so messy and filthy how you take him.
“So beautiful, fucking look at you,” you whine at the praise, from his soft lips, which he’s biting and releasing, making the sexiest moans from the back of his throat that drive you to get wetter and wetter. You reach down, touching yourself under your skirt when he yanks your wrist. “No.”
“No!?” You glare, and Satoru smirks, shaking his head.
“I’ll bet the one touching you, licking you- ah!” You’re sucking him again, even as he grips your little wrist tightly, sucking one of your little fingers, so lewd and sexy you can’t stand it, grinding on nothing for friction, as the car comes to a stop, Satoru huffs, yanking you up. “Open.”
You do just that, and freaky ass ‘stepdad’ Satoru Gojo spits in your mouth, you gasp, swallowing it and feeling the need grow so much it’s painful, kissing desperately, hand still stroking his length up and down. “In me, please.”
“Shit, yeah,” he adjusts himself, leaving the belt unbuckled as the two of you ride up the elevator to his stupidly fancy and clean penthouse, once the door is shut he presses you against it, hands slipping up your sides, gripping you everywhere. “Wanna taste you again, fuck…”
“Taste me then, mnh!” He’s on his knees right before you, the way he looks up at you is so intense it takes your breath away, as he shoves your skirt up, lapping a hot stripe up your slick panties, already soaked. “Oh my god, more, more!”
“Demanding little thing,” he teases, stroking fingers up your soppy panties, groaning as he then pulls them down, letting them fall down to your ankles, still clad in those ridiculous combat boots. They’re so hot he just keeps them on, throwing a thigh right over his shoulder, breath ghosting on your bare cunt. “Fuck, look at you, you’re so pretty.”
“Y-you don’t have to say- ah!” Your hands entangle in his silky, silvery white locks, soft as your fingers grip and pull until it hurts, but he wants more.
“Fuck my face, that’s it, taste s’good, mmm,” his whispers against you vibrate against your clit, and you’re screaming out, head falling back against Satoru’s door, as his mouth devours your cunt, so hungry and desperate for you.
His impossibly long tongue makes you furious that your bitch ass mother ever got him in this way, toxic and petty, it just makes you fuck his face more, hips rolling while that tongue plunges into you. He’s licking and stroking between your folds, right up in your hole, straight nose bumping your clit. Your thighs shake, his fingers pressing into them, your gummy walls are convulsing around his tongue.
The sound of him sucking up all your wetness - well he’s trying to, but you’re so fucking wet it’s pouring, his cock is leaking precum - already sensitive from that stupidly talented mouth, and now this? He can hardly remember your mom’s name any more, in fact he can’t remember anything right now, but how he should have been doing this, just drinking your sweetness up down his throat.
Devouring your pretty pussy, pulling your plump, puffy lips apart to slide that tongue in and out of your quivery little cunt as you scream out hoarsely. “Oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please!”
You’re sobbing out his name, panting as he licks and nibbles your twitchy little clit with sharp teeth, making you gasp out at the shock of the pain and pleasure, your nipples pressing against your top, tummy clenching as you feel your orgasm so close. He’s slipped two fingers up inside your hole, looking up at you as his tongue flicks your sensitive clit again.
“You’re so messy, aren’t you baby?” He taunts softly, all you can do is weakly nod, while his fingers now know your spot way too fucking well, pressing up against your g spot while he stretches you hot. “So sweet now, is this what you needed?”
“Shh, jerk.” He chuckles against your cunt, before sucking your little clit into his hot mouth and fucking moaning, making you feel like you’re going to collapse. It’s so good, so fucking good, and you’re so close. “I-I’m gonna, Satoru, oh god-!”
He doesn’t let you go over the edge though, pulling away with a pop of pink lips,covered in your arousal like a gloss. You yelp, looking down at him with a desperate expression, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving. He can’t stop thinking how fucking pretty you are like this, desperate for him, whining and wiggling.
“Why’d you stop!?” He stands now, slipping up your sweater, groaning when he realizes you have no bra on, seeing those tits he’s jerked it to bounce gently.
“Want you to cum around my cock, like a good girl. Can you?” He’s way too fucking hot, it’s actually unfair. You nod weakly, he sighs, cupping your breasts and watching your eyes roll back, his thumbs brush your nipples, already hard and aching for more.
Satoru unlaces your boots, leaving your knee socks and skirt on, you just look too sexy in them, unbuckling himself hastily as you tug his shirt off him. “Please, hurry, fuck…”
“Demanding, thought you hated me not wearing a shirt?” You glare at him, just making him chuckle, before he’s down to nothing, fully naked and gorgeous, as the light streams in through the blinds of those floor to ceiling windows, casting shadows across his perfect form.
“Fuck…” You’re kissing across his chest, when he shocks you, lifting you up like it’s nothing, pressing you right on that door again, the cool wood against your burning hot skin, tip drooling and leaking against your cunt. “Mnh! Please!”
“Need my cock so bad inside you?” You just nod weakly, done pretending or teasing, you’re still throbbing from the way he edged you, and when his leaky tip bumps your clit it almost pushes you over the edge. You’re clinging to his neck, kissing him as you roll your hips, soaking wet and begging with your body.
“In me, g-god, just - ah!” Satoru shoves his cock so deep in one stroke you’re left breathless, blinking rapidly at the ridiculous stretch, so full you can’t think, you’ve never been stuffed like this. Your eyes lock, his are so bright they’re insane, his lips and chin coated in your arousal, holding you by your ass right under your skirt as your legs tremble around narrow hips.
“Fucking feel you, my god,” he’s whispering in wonder for a moment, blinking snowy lashes to try to orient himself, to not cum just from one stroke like some dumb teenager from pussy.
But your pussy!?
“Prettier, tighter,” he’s whispering, and the words itch that toxic, fucked part of your brain, the mix of craving Satoru and the petty part of you that hates her. He can tell too, smirking. “Wetter than her. Feel better, fuck than anyone.”
“Shut up, so full of - ah!” He’s fucking you now, you got that moment to adjust, bruising your lower back when he fucks you against that door with no mercy, thick cock bullying your quivering little walls with filthy smacks of skin and your squishing cunt. “Oh my g-god!”
“I’m telling the t-truth you… bratty little fucking… god she’s so tight, mnh…” Satoru’s lost then, hips bucking up and rolling just so, and he watches your pretty face hungrily. “Cum f’me, all over me, make a mess.”
“Ah!” You’re gushing, just making the sounds in the enormous penthouse you’ve barely noticed louder, mixed with his moans as he fills you up so good, when he pushes deep and rolls those hips, watching you intensely as you cum, his eyes so brilliant blue and fucking starved for you. “Ohmygod fuckfuckfuck!”
“That’s it, fucking you dumb, huh,” he’s groaning, feeling your slick coat him, your mouth in a slutty O when he looks back up, feeling your aftershocks pulse around his cock. “God, baby, you came so hard f’me, bet you never have.”
“B-bet you never… felt pussy this good,” your bratty little whisper makes him smirk, slamming into you and pulling you off the door, you’re clinging to him in shock without the support, but he’s lifting you up and down his thick, lengthy cock like you’re a little fuck toy. “Ngh!”
“You mean better than your mom’s?” You scowl, gripping him tighter with your thighs as he just walks around with your fucking cunt around him, smirking as he lifts and drags you back on his cock again. You’re clinging to his back, nails pressing in and leaving marks.
“Psycho, mmm!”
“Says you, need to know if your pussy is tighter? I already told you, but no, gotta know every part that’s better? You’re so fucked up baby.” You glare, biting the shit out of his lip and earning his moan, as you draw just a little bit of blood, a bright red droplet that makes him grin.
“Maybe I am fucked up.” Your answer makes him chuckle, picking you up again, fucking you suspended in the air as you cling to him, whining. “Feel s’good, so thick mmm!”
“Am I the biggest you’ve had? The best?” He’s whispering, husky and needy now, you could bluff and taunt him, but you just nod eagerly, and he exhales, pulling out with a wet squelch, making you whine. “Hang on to me.”
You do just that, heart racing while Satoru carries you now, and your dark spots fade for a moment, long enough to get glimpses of his gorgeous, expensive ass fucking penthouse, making your mom’s place look like shit when you thought hers was fancy. Everything is spotless, surprising you only briefly when he makes it to his bedroom, tossing you right down on it.
You bounce gently on a black silky comforter, taking several breaths, looking around then glaring. “She fuck you on here?”
He grins at you, nodding and unzipping your skirt, groaning as he sees your hips for the first time. “Fuck you’re sexy,” he caresses you softly for a moment, fingertips drifting down the jut of your waist, the curve of those hips, before grabbing them, looking at your cunt. “All beat up already, huh?”
“Shut it, back in.” He grins, fingering your knee socks and sighing.
“They’re too hot, they stay on.” His open admiration of you makes you feel so fucking good, the way his eyes worship you, leaning low and kissing you again. “So fucking sexy, y’know that?”
“Mnh, s-so are you. But you know already, conceited- ah!” Satoru’s cut you off with a bite to your lower lip, sexy glare on his face now.
“Couldn’t even walk around her house without getting wet for me, could you?” Your glare just turns him on more, while he bends down, sucking your nipple into his hot mouth as you cry out, his teeth sinking in.
“Ah!” He moans, going right to the other. “Y-you wish.”
“Bet you played with your cunt, maybe right next to your mom’s room huh?” You bite his shoulder so hard it makes him moan at the pain. “Shit.”
“Shut it. You wish I did, bet you jerked it thinking of me? Your girl’s daughter, freaky ass-” He’s bit you again on your other nipple, the pain shooting up and making your sore cunt wetter.
“I did,” you blink, so disoriented, eyes now looking up to his in shock. “Yeah, I did, thinking of that slutty dress you wore that night.”
“Shit… really?” He sighs, and before you can say anything else, Satoru turns you around now, bending your ass up in the air, moaning at the sight, the dimples in your back, the way your ass looks, he moans and slaps each cheek, as you whine out, head falling back.
“God, look at this ass, fuck…”
“Prettier from the back than mommy is?” He scowls as you look back and giggle, smacking the fuck out of your ass now. “Ah!”
“You’re so damaged,” he smacks your cunt, you’re just drooling now, eyes rolling back, so ready to be filled by him. “Already told you, prettier pussy, yummier, tighter - gotta hear how much better your ass is too?”
“Mmm! Was teasing,” you whisper, when he slips his cock back inside you, this time so deep he bottoms out in one stroke, you scream out at it, hair now in his hold as he fucks into you. “Gojo!”
“You’re so damaged baby girl, god it’s hotter than it should be,” he’s losing it inside you then, your wet, slick little cunt gripping him even tighter, balls smacking your clit with every brutal stroke, as his other hand grips your ass, marking it over and over. “Feel so much better.”
“Yeah, daddy? Ah!” Satoru’s smacked the fuck out of you again, it stings so good as he slams his cock deep, tip drooling along your cervix. “Oh my god!”
“Stop running that mouth,” he leans over, gripping your throat with one hand, long fingers wrapping it entirely, bent over you with a arm braced on the other side, as his cock is stretching you, feeling so fucking perfect even as it hurts, how big his cock is. “You’re so fucking slutty, huh?”
You nod weakly, as he starts squeezing your throat now, making it all fuzzy and heady, you’re gasping for a breath as he presses on your pulse point, cock pounding you from the back, you’re gasping for breaths as filthy smacks fill his huge room. “Oh, Gojo!”
“Satoru, call me Satoru…” he’s whispering desperately, needing it from you, and you feel his cock thickening inside your slutty, drooling hole.
“Satoru, ah!” You’re lost as he chokes you while fucking so deep, rolling his hips, making you shatter for him, walls quivering around his cock, trying to milk him for everything he has. “Satoru!”
“Wanna fill your pretty little cunt with all my cum,” he whispers, squeezing harder as he hits just that spot, and you feel the pressure in your tummy explode, screaming out as the orgasm hits. “Oh god baby, yes, cum again f’me hmm?”
You can’t not do just what he asks, blinded as he saps your oxygen with his fingers tightening over your throat, you’re fuzzy and dizzy as you scream, the sound hoarse and weak. He’s moaning and kissing you, drool spilling out the corner of your mouth, releasing your throat a bit and just gripping under your chin now. You’re shaking, cunt so wet it’s dripping onto the dark blankets.
“S-Satoru…” you whisper again, making him whine when your head falls back, he’s biting across your neck, groaning. “Feel s’good in me…”
“You feel s’good wrapped around me, f-fuck…” the phone goes off again, in the pants discarded on the floor, and he smirks as he bends down, grabbing it.
“What are you…” Satoru presses that green answer circle, before sliding back in your cunt, psycho grin and dilated blue eyes vivid as you hear her voice. You look at him, covering your mouth as you hear her voice, but he leans down, whispering in your ear.
“Make noise.” You shake your head - you can’t be that fucked up!?
Can you?
“Satoru please, just come back. I’m sorry.” She’s sobbing, her sweet little meal ticket is gone after all, he’s slamming his cock deep in you as you scream into your palm, making him laugh a bit.
“Sorry, I’m not… coming… back that is, hah-” he’s hitting those backshots harder, the filthy sound of your cunt echoing, your eyes roll back, drool spilling on your palm now as you hear her voice in the background.
“She’s manipulating you!? She wants what I have. Satoru- what’s that!?” He chuckles, bottoming out and stuffing you so full your hand falls and you scream out.
“That’s your daughter, god she’s so much tighter than you.” You gasp and glare back at him, only making him hit it harder, until there’s no denying the filthy sounds.
“Oh you are… you both… you’re a whore I swear-”
“Ah!” Satoru’s rubbing your clit, murmuring in your ear.
“Cum f’me again, hmm?”
“You’re insane!?” He grins, and you shake your head, but soon you’re shattering again, earning his moan.
“So, I need to go, gotta get your daughter pregnant.” You gasp again, mid orgasm, as your mother sputters and he hangs up on her, chuckling.
“Y-you… she’s… Satoru!”
“She won’t call again now I bet,” he’s leaning low until you’re in prone position, turning your face and kissing your soft lips. “I wanna fill you all up, baby, hmm?”
“Do you, daddy?” He glares, but his cock pulses, and you giggle, breathless, earning him shoving hard, pulling at your hair. “You like that.”
“Shut it,” he’s moaning as you tighten around him, aftershocks pulsing, as he pictures doing just that, knocking you up. “Beg for it, slutty little brat.”
“Please, daddy,” he whimpers at that, and you bite your lip. “You’re damaged too, huh?”
“Not as damaged as you,” he’s huffing, kissing you as you laugh. “You can laugh? Need to fix that.”
“Gonna teach me a lesson daddy- ah!” Satoru Gojo is so deep you feel him fucking everywhere, making you tremble, as he’s throbbing inside you. “You like it!”
“Shh. Yes.” Your breathy giggle is cut off when he chokes you again, so intimate like this, teeth sinking in your neck now. “Beg for it.”
“Daddy please fill me up - mnh!” You’re both lost then, Satoru won’t admit it but hearing you call him that makes him sensitive, whimpering as he busts deep inside your perfect little hole, your gummy walls grip his cock and pulse around it, while his white sticky load coats them. “Oh my g-god!”
“Fuck, feel her… milking my cock huh?” You just nod weakly, when he cups you under your chin, kissing you messy and desperate, you’re cumming from the warmth, from all that cum pouring down his cock, mixed with your gossamer strings of arousal swirling down his cock, his balls, to the bed.
“Mnh, Satoru…” He’s kissing you deeper, teeth sinking into your lips as you both come down, easing his strokes and softening just a bit, still so thick inside you, making you feel so full.
“You’re so fucked up, baby.” You gasp, glaring now as he eases out. “It’s okay, all your issues? Hot as fuck.”
“You’ve got your own issues then, hmm?” He smirks, pressing kisses along your shoulder blades now.
“Too many to count. Not the only one with shitty parents, sweetheart.” Satoru turns you over now, and you brush a hand across his cheek, sighing.
“Then tell me them all, daddy.” He scowls again, and you can’t stop the grin on your face, Satoru lets you get away with it a bit, because it’s just so pretty to see on your face.
“Can’t tell if you have mommy or daddy issues or both?”
“Mommy issues. You can give me daddy issues though.” His glare is so cute you can’t stop the soft smile on your lips, as you lean up, body reeling from him.
“Should beat you, I swear. I’ll grab water.” You nod, and he leaves for a moment, you lean up, his cum leaking out of you, you search for any part that feels just a little guilty for fucking and stealing your mom’s man.
But it’s not there.
You see a picture of them on the side table then, sitting up and frowning a bit as he comes back, boxers slipped on, a blunt and lighter along with water. “Wanna smoke, sweetheart?”
“You’re corrupting me, step dad.”
“I swear to god stop.” You grin again, as he sits next to you, frowning as you study the photo. “Throw it out.”
“No…” you take his lighter and light the flame, burning the image of your mother and letting it die out in the ashtray, before handing the lighter back to him. “I burned all my sashes and dresses too.”
“Part of me wants to see you in a pageant dress, but the other part knows how much you hated it.” He says softly, watching the picture burn and lighting up a blunt now. “I’d fuck you in a sash and tiara though, nothing else.”
“Would you now?” You tease, he nods, inhaling the smoke, and handing the blunt to you, his perfect body covered in dripping sweat from you. “I may have one I didn’t get rid of.”
“Shit, don’t make it hard again.” You’re straddling him, inhaling the blunt and blowing the smoke into his mouth, he’s gripping your waist, already hard under his boxers, as you two fall into each other, each finding the other’s issues unreasonably hot, both damaged as fuck and honestly morally grey - but you really don’t mind fucking your mom’s ex boyfriend all night until you’re dripping his cum.
Your mom never does call you again - what a shame :’)
Sooo the pageant mom idea was fromm @huntyhuntycunty , also took inspo from them having met before from @yenayaps ! alsoo ty @blkkizzat for making me motivated to finally finish this hehe I love you girls <3
pairing dad's best friend!satoru gojo x virgin!afab reader
synopsis satoru has you right where he wants you - embedded into his daily life until you can't see or sense anything but him. it feels like heaven until the reality of your relationship hits and you're both left to scrounge for answers.
author's note so much has happened since last chap - i soft-launched virgin's sister fic, exposed the truth between satosugu, and spent long hard hours on the battlefield defending my boys. i can't waittttt to hear your thoughts on this one xoxo i love my little characters sm they finally feel real in this one
(jo by @/_3aem 🩻 gradient divs by @/cafekitsune, chains by me)
Every day this week has started the same. You can't breathe. You can't touch him.
Worst of all, you can feel the cycle you're running yourself in — obsessing over something you know you won't be able to grasp.
It all started as a stupid joke — a dare. Now, Satoru stands in front of you, shirtless under his zipped-open hoodie and matching sweat shorts. A few days ago, in the very studio you're in now, he jokingly blamed you for running off his potential protege, then challenged you to take his place. All you needed to do was land a hit behind his physical, padded barrier. You needed to touch skin, but all you've gotten these past few days is straight foam.
He started with the basics — honing in on your fighting stance with a gentle, strong grip on your hips. You tried the first day and failed miserably. So, last night, he spoke so much praise to you that you almost threw it all up, but this morning, there's no mercy. He stands in front of you, sweat dripping from his flat, greying locks as he blocks every one of your closed-fisted hits with his targeted focus mitts. You can't move fast enough, and he couldn't be any slower; still, he blocks every single one like he's moving through a waltz with his eyes closed.
Between missed assaults, he breathes out with a wild, blue gaze, "Distract me, baby. Just like I taught you."
You run him in circles, sneakers squeaking against the hard floors as he walks you backward towards the mirrors, blocking a left hook, then a weak recoil towards the side of his jaw. Taking his instruction to the head, you rise on your toes, bearing your teeth as you fake a hit from his right, then raise your left fist, aiming it behind his gloves and towards his bright, pretty nose.
Just before you can land your first solid hit, he calls your bluff and ducks — dropping one of his hands to slap your arm down.
"That's a good fucking girl… Good, good!"
"I was so…" You pause, letting your fists speak for themselves. You two are hot in each other's space — soul to soul, breathing so heavily that you can taste his perspiration on your tongue. "So damn close!"
"I'm looking in your eyes — I can see your next move in your eyes." He rushes out between blocks, grunting when a particularly hard jab hits his left glove. "Look in the dead center of my face, between the brows."
"Your uni-brow? That's cute."
"Haha." He breathes, biting down on a smirk when he watches your pretty, familiar eyes zero in on his third eye. "There you go. Now, let those fists talk."
So, you swing on him, and you give it your all. Holding your breath, you focus on his eyes, keep him on his toes just like he taught you, and throw punch after frantic punch. You don't stop until one hits — a jab to his chest, a squat and hook that he dodges with a well-timed turn, then the final, fatal uppercut that catches him off-guard after a previous, sloppy dodge. Your delicate, ringed fist hits him right under the jaw, clamping his mouth shut so fast that he can't steady himself, nor dodge, in time.
You finally landed one.
Except, Satoru pauses, his head dipping— hair falling in front of his eyes as time stops. He lets out a small noise, reaching up to bite his gloves off and drop them at his feet.
You rush for him, smile dropping as you breathlessly whisper, "Satoru—
"It's fine." He slurs, lifting his other hand to his teeth to tear the Velcro on his glove apart. It thuds to the ground in a limp heap, but he keeps his head hung, swaying against your gentle touch on his shoulder. He goes to laugh again, painting over the worry on your face when he finally looks up, teeth blood-red as he smiles at you. "You got me good, little girl."
You swallow down the nickname, knowing how he wants these reactions out of you. Instead, your heart drops as you reach for his chin, pulling him closer so you can investigate his bloody smile. "Did you bite your tongue?"
"Chomped it to Hell and back." He replies, electric blue eyes zeroing on yours as he cooperates with your care, leaning down to level, dropping his jaw so you can peer inside.
"Oh, no. Does it hurt? I'm so sor—
"I asked for it. I wanted you." His voice straightens out from the light tone it just carried — turning authoritative and sure as he glares. Stroking his cheek with your thumb, you shake your head, body heavy under the guilt of drawing blood. "Stop." He pulls you out of it, pushing your shaking fingers away so he can hold you. Your heart is more injured than his poor, bloody tongue, but of course, he'd be the one to take the brunt of the mental load. "Damn near begged for you to punch me."
"I know, it just doesn't feel real."
"Yeah? Come here, it's okay." He whispers, kicking his target gloves away so he can step closer to hold you. "Wanna kiss it all away for me? It'd make the throbbing feel so much better."
"Does it hurt… really bad?" You whisper, closing your hands over the sides of his face as he takes you by the hips, guiding you forward into him. He feels so close, here, pressed hip-to-hip. His breath tastes like a bloody version of yours, and you're so enamored that you're starry-eyed.
He nods pitifully like a boy, silent as he leans down, nudging his nose against yours before kissing over your soft, sweaty lips. You lean into it, arching back against his hold on your waist as he parts his lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth. The overwhelming taste of clean copper floods your senses, but it tastes like… him. It's the only comfort you have as your head goes hazy with it all.
Your hands trail from his face to the back of his neck, where you tangle your fists in his hoodie, holding on for dear life. You let him take control for a moment, kissing you out of your head before the haze takes over.
Then, it hits you like a ton of bricks. In his hold, your head goes heavy, knees limp as exhaustion takes over.
You… almost pass out, falling limp in Satoru's arms, where he catches you before he can even register what's wrong. He notices your weakness, brows furrowing as he lowers you onto the ground, pressing his knees into the floor as he gives in to your dead weight, not fighting it with strength. Satoru doesn't panic, but he does worry. The entire morning flashes before his eyes as he scans your paling face. He saw you eat and drink a healthy amount of water — his only stipulation for joining him at the gym. Satoru doesn't know if you took your vitamins, but knows that it wouldn't truly throw your body like this.
"Geto? Hey, baby, can you hear me?" He whispers, pushing some drying, stringy hair behind his ear. He then lowers that same hand to your face, touching the back of his hand onto your overheated, clammy forehead and cheeks. You don't really notice how weak you feel until your mind starts racing back to reality, ready to bear the embarrassment you know you'd feel whenever you do something off in front of him.
"It's okay, don't open your eyes." He reassures, petting over your skin as you blink for the first time since you fell out. "We're just gonna stay like this for a moment. You know where you are and who you're with?"
"Y-yeah, I'm with you." You whisper, voice cracking around the edges as you try to blink your eyes open again. You feel… fine; you just can't get a hold of your head. It feels like your insides are swimming.
For some reason, he laughs. "Don't like the taste of blood, huh?"
Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, you can feel the embarrassment start to fall over you like a weighted blanket. It's uncomfortable and heavy, but something about your partner makes it a bit… lighter.
"I've just felt… off this week." You croak, finally cracking an eye and trying to gain the strength to sit up. You're not rushing, enjoying the safe reality in his arms. "Like every step I take falls short."
Satoru sits up with you, a hand behind your neck and one over your lap. "And it's not just your period?"
When you open your eyes, you turn to stare at him like he just exposed the truth of the world right between your lips. You're staring at him, and it still doesn't feel real, because you can't remember the last time you had a period. At first, it was normal after your IUD was taken out. Then, you just… forgot about it. It feels like you've been having unprotected sex damn-near every night — your womb is stained in him, and you're just now putting two and two together.
You two could get pregnant.
You don't respond. Satoru isn't stupid. Under his breath, he whispers, "Oh, no."
Rolling around in Satoru's bed, you can't get back to sleep.
You're a champion of midday naps — your favorite spot being in his bed, on his couch, or in his arms. Only, Satoru doesn't nap; he hardly sleeps, and you're worrying him to death. It's been nearly ten minutes of you tossing back and forth next to him, and he can't focus on the work he's squinting at on his phone, lounging with his back propped against the headboard and your head in his lap. He raises his phone as you fuss and whisper in your sleep, whining and fisting the blankets to pull them over your eyes so you can catch some rest.
Now, Satoru is not stupid — nor is he young— but he's never been in this position. He navigates to a new tab on his phone, punching in the search bar with one finger:
Is restlessness a sign of early pregnancy?
Then the results make his stomach turn.
He glances down at you, having to stifle a smile when he sees you small with the covers yanked over your head. Your fist is tight around a gold ring he bought you, and he wonders if you'd open your eyes right now, if you'd be able to see just how terrified he was.
Sure, he knows. Of course, he knows. Sex leads to pregnancy — it's so textbook that he's nauseous with his own stupidity.
For some reason, he can't remember why or how he thought you were still on some kind of birth control. He can't believe you didn't take the initiative and demand a condom, but knows he'd put up a fight if you brought it up. It's an endless, circling battle in his mind. He can't swallow it down, so he drops his phone at his side and presses his hands into his eyes.
Once you finally settle and relax against his strong, familiar frame, he pulls his hands away and peeks down at you, reaching to tug the blankets from your eyes. For that fleeting moment as you get an inkling of rest, he looks at you, like really.
He looks at you, then blinks — your mother's face flashes before his eyes, then he blinks again and sees your father. It's only on the third blink, when he really squints hard, that he sees you. It's written in all of your beauty and flaws, trailing from your lips to your eyes, then all the way to your toes. Satoru is in love with you; he knows it. Every single part of you, he knows, has felt, and he doesn't want to live without, but he just can't deal.
Satoru can't imagine having to stand face-to-face with the one he's known his entire life and tell the truth. The entire plan was to never let this slip into anything more than a fleeting affair — a way to live out his past in the haze of the future, and channel his need into something other than killing himself all day at the gym. Suguru never had to know when it was a quick fuck, but now that the idea of a baby has been pushed to the front of his mind, that conversation is feeling a lot more realistic.
Still, he blinks down at you and almost believes that it might be worth it. For a child of his own and a partner he couldn't get enough of, anything is worth it. He'd have the rest of his life made — he would take care of you. Long after he's gone, his money could be yours. Everything he owned could be yours. He just… had to tell Suguru.
His dreams come crashing down again.
As you sleep, he lets his arm fall down your back, resting over the swell of your ass. The tiny movement makes you shift, burying your face deeper into his lap to ward off the distraction. Satoru knows you're not really asleep — you're probably close to it, but your lips are zipped shut, and your eyes are fluttering. He knows you well enough by now to read your signs.
"You know we have to talk, right?"
"About what?" You whisper, pulling your face clear so he can understand your carefully chosen words. There are a million things you two have to talk about. Megumi, your Dad, your Mother, his tongue, or your weakness. The mental list goes on and on in your head, but you'll let him land on one. You've become almost masterful at following his lead.
"You're on birth control, right? I thought I heard something about it in passing."
Your heartbeat picks up, and Satoru can feel it. "You might've." You rush out, shifting to your side so you can face the wall. You have to scoot off his body, piquing his attention. "I had an IUD in my uterus for a few years."
"But you don't have it… anymore?"
"Bingo."
"Could you turn and look at me?" He sighs, peeling the blankets from your shoulders to stir you back to your senses. "I'm not your father; I won't scold you."
"But you're mad that I didn't tell you. I know it was stupid; I just got so caught up—
"That first night, you should have told me; I just assumed." Satoru squeezes his eyes shut again, lifting his hand to his eyes before letting it fall. "This is my fucking fault. It's mine. I'm mad at myself, but I need you to turn around and face reality for a second."
"Can you just… be nice about it?" You don't open your eyes until you're turned back towards him, head on the pillow and not his lap anymore. "Tell me I'm stupid, but don't tell me I'm a child."
"Two things can be true at once, you know?"
"Satoru… don't—
"I'm joking, I know you're not a child." He reaches forward, resting his cheek on his bare shoulder as he pinches your nose in passing. His fingers are slow, trailing down the peak of your face and over your lips before landing on your chin. Then, his tone dips. "Look at me."
So, you open your eyes and stare straight up at him, needing to manually slow the racing of your heart and the butterflies in your tummy when you see him staring right back down at you, unblinking.
"If you're pregnant, we're going to have to tell your father, and it won't be pretty."
"What? Do you really think I'm pregnant?"
"You nearly threw up this morning, then fell out during training. I've finished inside of you almost every single night for a month — Yeah, I think you're pregnant."
"You're disgusting."
"I'm realistic." He drives his point deeper, finally blinking before leaning closer to your face to speak straight into your soul. "So, we're taking a pregnancy test. Today. Right now."
"You're gonna have to bribe me with something sweet." You deadpan, staring right back at him because you don't think you're pregnant. Surely, if you were, it'd sit like a rock on your heart. You feel… nothing. "Not sex. I just need to look at you, and I get what I want."
Satoru hums, pursing his lips as he ponders for a second. Then, when the bribe comes, it hits him like lightning. "I'll let you go back to that terribly uncivilized tourist club that I had to drag you out of last week."
That makes you perk up.
You crack a smile, only for him to rush you with, "But only if you're not pregnant."
"If I am?"
"Then… I will be the one to tell your father. Not both of us. Just him and me, completely alone."
"He's going to chop you up into pieces and find a way to feed it to me; he's crazy like that."
"Yeah? Well, we should've thought about that before getting into this situation." He responds with an easy laugh, rolling over to his knees, where he slaps you once on your bare thigh to get you up. "I don't mind. It'll be good nourishment for you and the baby. Good deal? Let's get up, come on."
"But, baby boy… I'm so comfortable in bed right now. You can't just go and bring the test back?" You whine, pointing your foot as he kneels in front of you, trailing your polished toes down his bare chest. It's true — you're hardly covered in a loose silk set, no underwear, no inhibitions. Your eyes are tired and heavy-lidded, and Satoru looks like a hyper spring chicken.
Satoru makes a show of letting out a big, deep sigh, watching as your foot traces his skin. He wants to give in—let you marinate like a princess so he can come home and have you for dinner —but he needs to slow down. Thinking with his dick is what got him in this situation, so he manually takes control of his mind, reaching to grab you by the ankle.
"Put some clothes on. We're going together."
Finally, you and Satoru can walk through the city like you're together.
He hasn't said anything about a title, but actions speak louder than words, and his arm is heavily slung over your shoulders as the sun sets over Tokyo. You're wearing wired headphones, but you can still hear him talking low and slow in your ear, whispering about the new training he wants to put you through during the last half of your city stay. He promised you — guaranteed, at the end of your time together, you'd be able to take him, and any grown man, to the ground.
That promise felt like forever. You didn't need anything more.
"You're getting so flexible with your stretches, too." He continues over your soft rock song in your headphones, stumbling into you. "Once you feel better, I'll show you some great hamstring exercises. We're gonna really work on that before we do some legwork."
"We can do all that even if I'm pregnant?"
"At the beginning, yes. I'm sure." He nods, peeking down at you as you stare at your feet. He notices how quiet you've gotten since you left his place, but doesn't know if he wants to touch on it. Satoru thinks it's obvious. "We'd have to talk to a doctor."
"Of course." You whisper, shoving your phone in your sidebag so you can reach up and hold the hand slung over your shoulder. Satoru takes that little hint of affection, then leans over to kiss the side of your head. It's inconspicuous — him in his hoodie and your eyes glued to the ground, but it's there. You lean your head into your joined hands, trying to be sweet for him in a moment where you're sure he'd need it just as much as you. "I trust you."
"I love you, too."
You two end up buying the test — he picks the one he wants you to take, carries it to the front, and pays for it. He and the auntie behind the counter don't exchange more than the usual transactional pleasantries, but it feels like you're watching a circus act. He smiles that award-winning smile, and any lady blushes; then he turns around to you, and everything feels real.
The walk back home was slow and simple. He walked ahead of you this time, the test sticking out of his back pocket as he feverishly messaged a client back. Night has settled over by the time you're walking back into his apartment, and before he can turn on the lights, you're rushing him with the familiar, "Our deal still stands, right?"
"What, that club you wanna go back to?" He's mumbling, brows furrowed as he stares down at his phone. His big hand hovers over the room lights before flicking them on. "Sorry, baby, I have to call my lawyer with a question… But yes, here," He looks up at you, reaching behind his back to toss you the test. Before you can react after catching it so quickly, he holds up a palm, "Don't take it yet. Just… sit down and read the instructions." He goes to walk away, heart deadset on this question he has to ask, but stops himself again. "I'll… quiz you on it, too. Don't let me down."
"I got it." You insist, fingers already digging at the cardboard enclosure. A single test sits inside—99% accurate, as the label says —as you rip into it. Satoru walks out onto the balcony, sweet light business voice already in the air as he calls up the man he always seems to be on the phone with.
He knows about you now — Satoru's lawyer, Higuruma. He brought up an NDA to protect the business from pleasure and almost got fired.
Still, you take that past and smile at it, venturing deeper into the room to sit yourself down and read over the test. You don't think Satoru's threat about quizzing you held any ground, but you still won't risk it. For your own peace of mind, you sit with the test and pull out the tiny, folded paper of instructions inside. Through the window, you can hear his hushed voice against the heat of the city. He's going on and on about a specific client that he's been seeing for years — something about copyright. It's all just noise, but the sound of his voice, so relaxed and steady, calms you like a lullaby. Suddenly, this test in your hand feels a lot lighter than it once did — maybe this thing could actually work.
Ten minutes pass before he comes back with one ear pod in, trailing his hand over the kitchen island as he wraps up the call. "Sure… I'll call you later. And I'll let you know about drinks tomorrow. I may end up making plans… Okay… Bye, now."
"What plans do you have?" You speak up almost as if it's your right, still scanning over the directions and lounging back in his comfortable furniture.
"Hauling your sorry ass to and from Shinjuku." His voice picks up so you can hear it loud and clear. You smile as you sink further down in the cushion, feeling his footsteps close in behind you. "Right?"
"That's the deal, right?" You nod, reaching deeper into the box at your side to pull out the slim, blue stick. "If not, you get to be chopped into pieces?"
"You think too highly of your father; he'd just leave me somewhere whole, to rot." He stops directly behind you, closing his hands over your shoulders. He massages them for a second, catching your attention before leaning down to your ear. "How are you feeling? Okay?"
"Scared." You give, but it's only a half-truth. Swaying with the weight of him on your shoulders, you really want to say that you want this baby if it means you two could be together, but you know that's impossible. So, you reach for that secondary feeling. "But… I don't think I'm pregnant. I just think I was exhausted."
"Then we take the test and forget this even happened, hm?" His voice gets low like it always does when he's being sweet — letting it fall against your ear in a gentle purr that makes you shiver. "And I'm squeezing into a condom every time we're together from now on. I mean it."
"Learned your lesson, huh?"
"Mm, yeah. You got me once — won't get me twice." He stands up, and it's sudden. As he steps back, you peek over your shoulder. "I'm far too old to be anyone's daddy but yours."
You stand up slowly, leaving the instructions littered in the spot you once sat. Of course, Satoru has no mind to really quiz you on it, so he ignores it as you step next to him. "Yeah? Your jokes actually aren't helpful right now, my love."
"Oh." He frowns, dramatic as always, and you shoot him a smile before leading the way to the bathroom you use way more than your own. "What this situation really needs is a good joke," He insists, trailing behind you slowly with his huge hands stuffed into his pockets. You nod like you're listening, heart set on this test, saying no before you could entertain him further. "Let's talk about how stupid we both are, actually."
You ignore that, letting the bedroom swing behind you after you step inside. The bathroom door is wide open — light on, just beckoning you to your fate. Every step makes this feel a bit more real, and Satoru's cheeriness is more distracting than helpful. Most of the time, this is how it is. Satoru talks to hear himself talk — to have the last word even when it isn't necessary. It's at times like these that you can feel the difference in age. It's a blessing because he's the wisest, sweetest person you know, but a curse in almost every other way.
You beat him there, taking a second to plant both open palms to the icy-cold expanse of the modern bathroom countertop. "Satoru—
"What, are you ignoring me, now?" He sticks his head into the bathroom, looking into your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. You don't even look up when you hear him, just shaking your head and letting a silent smile ghost over your lips.
"Can you go grab me a cup? It has to submerge for a few seconds."
"A cup like… my drinking cups?"
You finally look up, locking eye contact with him as he lingers in the doorway. "Unless you want me to pull one out of my ass..?"
His head drops, arms crossing around his chest as he chuckles softly. "God — you're just like your fucking mother."
"Shut up!"
"Sorry, sorry," Satoru mutters under his breath, sneaking in another soft laugh as he ventures back into the kitchen.
Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you chew on a scowl as you think. You think about everything — how and if Megumi would react if you really were pregnant. Of course, you hope that he'd be distraught, but deep down you know he'd just be disgusted. You truly wonder how your Dad would handle things, or what your sisters would even think. They all know Satoru, but not like you do. Nobody knows Satoru like you do, now.
You drop a hand down to your bladder, pressing it through your thin shirt as you really think about it. Realizing that you truly don't have to pee, you reach for the faucet and crank it on, watching the water rush and gather in the shallow basin before leaning your head down and drinking straight from the flowing water. You get a few swallows, then deem that enough as you sit up, reaching a cupped hand to gather the cool liquid to splash over your face.
The day was slowly coming to a crawl, and your body could feel it. You're sore from training and exhausted after a night of… very little sleep, so you have to jolt yourself back to the surface. Your head is nearly underwater when Satoru comes back, a crystal-clear drinking glass dwarfed in his grip. He pauses when he sees your head in the sink, then smiles a bit, walking up behind you slowly. He puts the cup next to you, the soft sound of it hitting making you look up in a slight fright.
Satoru steps behind you, leaning over to kiss your clothed shoulder. "Can I stay in here while you pee?"
You chuff out a small laugh, turning to gaze down on his heavy cheek resting on your shoulder. Your nose nudges his — he presses a fleeting, tiny kiss there. "Only if you can be normal about it."
"Can I hold the cup for you?"
"Satoru—
You squeeze your eyes shut, heart dropping as he finally starts annoying you. He knows that tone nearly as well as he knows you, and laughs as he sits up, smoothing his hands over your sides, trailing down to your hips.
"I'm sorry — I'll stop," He laughs, peering at your dripping face through the mirror. You're looking down at the collected pools of water on the counter, and he's fixated on you. "I was gonna say something about drinking it, is th—
"That's why I'm telling you to be normal! Oh, my God — let's just hope this baby doesn't exist for its sanity. Can't imagine someone having you as a father." You mutter on and on, peeling yourself from his grip and taking the cup as you head for the toilet.
"And imagine it having Suguru as a grandfather. Just wrong."
That one makes you laugh, but it's not in bad faith. You know what he's trying to do, and you'd be terrified if he wasn't here putting all this effort in. "Now, imagine having him as a father."
"You poor, sweet baby." Satoru settles at the edge of the bathroom, leaning against the western-style shower door as you get situated — knees parted, and a glass cup in your hand. He watches, and makes no secret of it, but it doesn't unnerve you; it empowers you. "I know that man had you kneeling before you could even walk."
You laugh again, letting the smile linger on your face as you stare at him. Backed by the sound of your output hitting the cup in a weak stream, you shake your head. "He's such an asshole."
"That's your Dad."
"Your friend, by the way."
Satoru laughs, tossing his head back before stepping forward as you finish. "You're right — I chose him, you didn't." He approaches you, so close that you can smell the ghost of his addictively pheromone-altered soap. "Give it to me—
"Don't be weird—
"Give me the cup." He holds his hand out like he's accepting money — not a warm, quasi-full cup of urine that would spell out the rest of his life if it was contaminated. "Clean yourself up," He demands, grabbing the small cup and taking it to the sink, where he sets it by the sink, right next to the Clearblue test you disregarded earlier. "I'll dip it so you can get situated."
"So thoughtful." You mumble, cleaning yourself up well enough to stand and pull your pants back up. Satoru lets the test sit heavily in his hand, staring at it for a moment before pulling off the blue plastic protective cap and lowering it into your cup. He sighs as the toilet flushes, then moves out of the way so you can wash your hands clean of your shitty aim.
You two stand silent as the test dips, then let out a breath when he pulls it back up. He moves the test to his other hand, using the one closer to you to fall over your lower back. It's a small sign of togetherness without words. He's here for you no matter what the test ends up saying, and it makes you breathe just a touch easier.
"How long is it supposed to sit? Pop quiz." Satoru puts the cap back on the test, balancing it over the cup and turning to wrap both his long arms around your waist. You smile, reaching up to cross your hands around the back of his neck.
"A few seconds; it depends." You whisper, staring down as the tiny spiral in the center of the test turns on and on. "We're just gonna sit here with bated breath 'till it loads?"
"No," He responds, turning his head to stare you straight on as he nods softly. "I'm going to stand here and tell you that whatever this test says won't and never will dictate how much I love you. It's not your fault, right?"
"It takes two people to make a baby."
"Not in our situation, no." He shakes his head, so suddenly sure of himself and his sins without really coming to terms with them. "I'm the one with the experience. Can I really expect a virgin to stop and demand that I wear a condom? Or to even casually bring up birth control when I'm the one who crawled on top of you?"
"I want you to crawl on top of me until the day I die."
He laughs again, rolling his pretty blue eyes as you gaze into them longingly. Purposefully, you pout, leaning forward to press your forehead into his big, safe chest. "I love you, little one, you know it." You can feel his nod — steady and strong, but you can't see it from your self-induced blindness. "Love you so goddamn much that it's ruining my life."
"You're taking me down with you." You comment as you feel him pull away. Standing up straight, you keep your cheek pressed to his chest as he reaches to pick up the test. You don't look at the screen, trusting him fully as he reads the results.
He doesn't even have to speak; he just has to smile.
"You can breathe now. There's no baby."
You sit in front of your mirror, pumping your mascara wand back into the tube before continuing to paint your face. You and Satoru's deal stuck, and you almost didn't take him up on it in favor of another night with him, but he almost insisted. You two haven't had a night apart in almost a full week, and he loves you more than anything, but finds himself putting his own needs to the side to accommodate you. Satoru can feel it when he flexes in the mirror, noticing the gathered skin around his hips that were once steel.
"Don't be weirded out," You reply, looking over your shoulder at your childhood best friend as she types away on her phone, lying back on your unmade bed. "But we can just have Satoru take us."
"Who?"
You squeeze your eyes shut, a small, stupid smirk on your face as you think about how to actually tell her. "Gojo… You know, Dad's friend."
Maki laughs, but it's not a real laugh. It's a sarcastic one, hidden behind a soft, unsuspecting snort. "You're calling him by his first name all of a sudden?" Then she stops, her words finally sinking in. Maki sits up like she just came to the most damning conclusion. "Your Dad is going to literally kill you. He's crazy."
"It's not like that."
"Yes, it is." She deadpans, glaring at you with slivered eyes through the mirror as you scoot closer to comb mascara through your lashes. "It's exactly like that, because I know you."
"Whatever."
Maki sighs, falling back on the bed and continuing her scrolling while she waits for you to tiptoe through your budge-proof makeup routine. "And you haven't been hanging out with me. So, unless there's another mysterious friend of yours in Tokyo, I can imagine he's the one you've been replacing me with."
"I haven't been replacing you; it's just hard to juggle how strict he is." You mumble, eyes downcast in your makeup bag as you rifle through it for your lip products. "Had to fight tooth and nail just for tonight. Made a deal with the devil."
"Is he nice to you?"
"He's more than nice." You reply with a vague smirk over your lips, manually having to swallow it down when you glance back at her figure. "I mean — he's sexy, older, rich…"
"Could literally be your father…"
"Blah, blah. He loves me."
"He told you that?" The rise in her tone makes you peek back up, shaking your head as she looks over her phone screen and dead into the back of your head. You can feel the judgment. "You haven't even known him an entire month."
"I've known him my entire life—
"That makes it worse." She replies, then goes back to her phone, ringer on as she types incessantly. "And, no, you haven't. I mean — none of them talk about him anymore."
"He and Dad talk on the phone every night like kids." You annunciate the end of your thought against the soft clatter of your makeup tube dropping in your bag. "Literally since forever."
She snorts, "Naoya and Toji hate him."
"Good. He hates them, too."
Maki sits up again, stretching her arms above her head as you stand, thoroughly satisfied with your reflection in the mirror. You tried out some new products — did your eyeliner a bit longer, just to see what Satoru would say. There's glitter on your nose and cheeks, and as you turn around, Maki notices. "Cute. You ready? Yuta just got off the train; he's almost here."
"Okay, I'm gonna call Satoru."
"Nice. You have fun with that, because I'm definitely not getting in that car."
"The train would probably get you there faster—
"And I'm not carrying that shit around with me. I obviously can't tell anyone you're seeing him, right? Yuta can't keep a secret."
You laugh as you lean down, zipping your calf boots up with a steady hand on the entryway wall. Maki steps behind you, tucking her freshly-cut nape-length hair against her slicked scalp. You two go on as she slips into her sneakers.
"Tell whoever the Hell you want." You mutter as you grab your shoulder bag, slinging it on as you glance over at her. "Save me the trouble, seriously." She follows you out of the apartment with a careless shrug, trailing behind you as you pull out your phone and reach for Satoru's number. You text him first, knowing that he's waiting for you to reach out around this time.
"Wasn't Megumi just down here, too? Mai told me he got on a train."
"Who?"
"You're so full of shit." She draws it out over a laugh, skipping down the steps to the exit right behind you. "He's gonna be so pissed if he finds out."
"Whatever, he already thinks I'm a whore for reasons unrelated. And… maybe I am. Actually, yeah, I am." You go on and on, spilling your heart out because it's the first time you've seen her in a few days. You can't talk to Satoru like this, and you surely can't talk to your Dad about it. "I drop them for any guy who's actually nice to me; maybe he should take notes."
"I think he's good, girl."
"He actually just makes me so mad, I'm sorry." You mutter, crossing your arms as you clear the final row of steps. You're waiting for Satoru to text you back, wishing he'd just show up here now and make you forget that Megumi ever really existed. "He acts like my Dad — just self-righteous as shit. They'd start a fucking religion on how holy they are because they don't drink or fuck."
"You know way too much about your Dad."
"No! I actually don't know shit. I've made a lot of educated guesses about him in my days. It's like… I love them, but nobody wants to live anymore. When I do it, it's the end of the world, but I'm having great sex, learning so much, and doing things my Dad or Megumi haven't even fathomed. Who's living now, huh?"
"Oh…" Maki laughs as you two leave the building, shutting up and letting you talk just to get it out. "Okay, exactly. So happy for you." She couldn't be any more far removed, but of course she wants to listen to you even if you sound like a rambling idiot. "Gonna run off and get married while you're at it? You have that manic look in your face."
"You know what? Probably, yeah."
That's when you get the first real laugh out of your friend all night, and it had to be as soon as her boyfriend rounds the corner, visibly perking up at the distant shadows of you two. Still, you continue, laughing with her, "I swear, I haven't been drinking but, fuck…"
"You… do not have to go out with us. Go home to your man, if that's what you really wanna do."
"What?! I'd rather go out with you." You two wrap up your conversation just as Yuta gets close enough to hear, knowing you'd play it by ear and see where the conversation leads. If Yuta happens to find out, you're not too worried. It's not in his nature to hold anything over anyone; neither is it to tell anyone else.
"Hey. You guys ready to go?"
You watch with a soft smile as they hug in greeting, rolling over the balls of your feet because you just can't sit still. Maki answers for you, speaking the words between his lips like an indirect kiss. "Gojo is picking her up."
"Oh? I haven't seen him in a while." He's always so polite — dark hair jelled and combed over his ears, in soft silver jewelry and dwarfed by trendy, baggy clothes.
"He's literally around the corner." You take a step towards them as they settle in a soft embrace — his hand around the small of her back, hers over his strong back. It's always been in your nature to notice their subtleties. You wonder if you and Satoru translate as naturally as they do. "He's probably already here."
In comparison to Maki's skin-tight pleather, it's like they're perfectly bred opposites. Soft and hard, dark and light — it's mesmerizing.
If only they could see you and your man the way you do. If only you didn't have to hide.
They look at each other like they see the world in the other's eyes, then look back to you simultaneously like they share the same mind. "Shinjuku City, right?" Yuta perks up, peeking back at Maki. "About… fifteen minutes away on the train?"
She shrugs. "I'm not from here."
As they talk, the draw of headlights — a brighter pair than the ones that have been lazing by- catches your attention. It rolls around the corner like it's entitled to the road, and entitled to whatever direction you're in. You step back, smiling around the edges as Satoru pulls up right next to you, rolling his window down as he idles for a few moments. Seeing your friends, he turns into Dad-mode, smiling and pulling his shaded glasses down as he calls for you.
"Hi, Little Geto..! And Geto's friends!"
You scoff, jogging over to the curb so you can squeeze in that confined space with him as fast as humanly possible.
Satoru looks almost edible tonight — hair still wet and dark from a recent shower, and skin glossy from the meticulous care he puts into it. As you get closer, his soft, relaxed fit t-shirt hangs off a shoulder, giving air to his pale collarbone and chiseled shoulder. Your heart picks up a few paces, and it feels like you're bound to explode if you don't insert yourself inside of him as soon as humanly possible.
You open the door and slide in, biting down on a smile as you interrupt his space. You get so close that your noses touch, but you don't kiss. Not yet. Suddenly, you clear your throat, looking back out to your friends approaching the window. "Just wait at the front entrance for me; there's definitely going to be a line."
"Hi, Gojo." She regards him, leaning down just enough to catch your gaze in the car. "Anyways, we'll see you."
"You two be safe, now. I can't chaperone today, but I would if I could."
"Uh…" She stalls, looking between you and Satoru before standing up straight. "We're good, but thanks."
"God forbid a guy tells a joke."
"Your jokes are just bad, though." You whisper, sitting back in your seat as he shifts the car into drive. You wave to your friends as he raises the window, idling with his hand on the shift as he leans over and finally kisses you. You smile, leaning closer to him over the console as his lips meet yours twice in a soft, intimate touch. You know his windows aren't tinted, but you don't really care. Neither do Yuta and Maki.
"I missed your annoying back talk all evening."
"I missed your stupid jokes, too." You smile, reaching up to hold his cheek and kiss him one last time before he settles back and starts driving. "I wanna go home with you, really. I don't know why I chose to do this today when I had the whole trip to take you up on this deal."
"Then, we can just go home." He chuckles, driving with one hand on the wheel — the other propped on the door. He leans his head onto a propped fist, electric eyes flicking from his windows, then to your fiddling fingers in your lap. "But that'd be awful to your friends."
"No, I know. I love you, but you're not worth losing my best friend over."
He laughs again, nodding with his eyes dead-set on the road. He knows this was a deal, but he's worried sick. Hopefully the presence of him and his blessing cools your loins a bit, because he'd rather do anything else with his night than struggle with your drunk problems and dump you in bed.
"Can you promise me you won't take it too far?" He lets his tone settle in that dull, deep, authoritative valley that makes you feel two sizes smaller. Still, you nod for him, knowing he doesn't really ask for much unless he feels he has the authority. He feels like he has some, now. "A few drinks, yes, is fine. Just come home to me somewhat sensible, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good girl."
In your drunken blue haze, Satoru Gojo looks a lot like God himself.
He's smiling with the light of a million suns — arms open for you to trip and stumble into. Your friends are somewhere behind you, arms in the air as they wave you off, voices lost over the traffic of the door. The night is still young, only a couple hours past midnight, but Satoru wanted you home. You met his strict curfew in his arms, drunk, but alive and real enough for him to feel close.
"Did you have a good time?" He purrs over the music spilling out of the club, a strong hand over the small of your back as he guides you back to his car. The lights are so bright that they're almost painful, and you're so light that you could be floating right now. Best of all, you're in his arms and this moment feels like heaven.
"So much fun." You slur, looking up to nuzzle your sweaty nose into his neck. You suck up all the gathered scent there like it's yours, heart throbbing in your chest as he drags you down the sidewalk. He tosses his head over his shoulder again, waving towards your friends, reminding them that you're safe as they linger outside for a smoke.
"Missed you, daddy."
Satoru doesn't gasp; he stares down at you like you just uttered a curse word. "Who? Oh, yeah, you're drunk."
You giggle, yelping when you trip over your toes in your heeled boots. He catches you before you can even fall with a light laugh, and once you're focused on your footing again, you smile up at him. "Want you to… take me home and t-take off all my clothes."
Satoru laughs louder this time, free hand in his pocket as he fishes for his keys. He switches you to his other side, stepping off the curb where you're just a bit taller than him, now. He raises his brows at you as the door pulls open, slow and steady. "That's the plan, baby girl."
"Good." You speak into his mouth, breath hot as you kiss his familiar skin. "I love you."
He kisses you back, but it's slight — blurred around the edges so he can rush and get out of here. "Wanna get in the car so I can hurry and take you home?" You whine as he lowers you into your seat, eyes shut as your hazy mind swims and takes that as the rejection you're so hard on. Satoru hasn't seen you drunk very often, but knows that you want to do one of two things when you are: sleep, or sex. Both, on a good day, and one, inevitably. He thinks about that to himself as he shuts the car door behind you, making sure you're secure before walking to his side.
Through the rolled-up windows, he can hear your pleading voice as you whine, "You didn't say you l-loved me back. You know I kick ass for that."
"I am so sorry, my sweet, angel princess." He goes on and on, dragging in your endearments because he knows he can get more out of you in this state. "You know I love you, little lady."
As he settles in, his scent overtaking you again, you shift in your seat, fingers itching to reach for him. "Yeah, keep going. I love when you just talk."
Satoru is loving this — genuinely eating out of your drunken palm as he says the things he knows you'd hate if you were sober. He digs his heels in, pulling his tinted glasses down in the middle of the blackest night, and the heaviest interior. "Been thinking of this position I want to get you into..."
"Mm?" You slouch back in the seat, pouting up at him as he leans in, voice dipping deep and unapologetic.
"Gonna pin those knees to your ears and really stretch out those hamstrings."
You gasp as his words fall over you, both hands slapping over your face, hiding your shock from his all-seeing gaze. "That's so—
"Don't hide from me, silly." He insists, closing his hand around yours to pull them from your face. His natural strength is nothing compared to your limp, drunk strength, so you're falling apart like your willpower hardly existed for him. "Got a fresh pack of condoms tucked into our bed with your name written all over it, too."
"God, you're such a freak." You're shaking under his intense eye contact. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your upper lip, and he doesn't blink as he pushes all of these obscenities into you. "Hurry and take me home… been thinkin' about this all night."
"You think I'm gonna leave you in my passenger seat without a strap on?" He grunts, leaning his bodyweight over you as he reaches for your seatbelt. "Look at you, you're like jelly."
"Just hurry." You insist, knees rocking together as he grunts and presses against you. The space is too small, and you're too taken on this tequila and the way his voice feels in your ear. You reach up, crossing your arm across his torso and over his back, hugging him close. "Mm, I just love you."
"You know I'm never going to let you live this down, right?" He chuckles, and you can feel the vibrations as you hug him to your body, fully clothed. It's now, in your drunken state, that you realize how you've never really embraced Satoru like such, so you unpin your hand from under your thighs and tuck it over his waist.
"You're so warm… and safe… smell good, too…"
"You hate it when I call you sweetheart, but just hear yourself…"
"I can't help it. I'm in love." You purr into his body, holding him a bit tighter when you feel him pull away. Satoru smiles, biting his bottom lip as he wrestles with your hold. "No—
Two fists locked in the fabric of his shirt, Satoru realizes he's in a bind and leans into your ear. "The faster I can get us home, the faster you can say that to me when I'm inside of you." He whispers, then pulls back far enough to look into your eyes. "You know, a drunk man tells no tales."
"I'm not really into superstitious things. I'm into you."
Finally settling into his seat, sitting up arrow straight, he looks over at you and laughs. "Tell me, how do I keep getting this silly, honest version of Geto all the time?"
"Just keep being nice to me." You mutter, head lulled in his direction as he finally starts driving — your body feeling every rock in the pavement in this loose state. "Keep touching me… keep worrying about me."
Satoru nods that all down, eyes flicking from the slow-moving city traffic, then back to you. He looks to your eyes, staring him right down, then to your neck and chest, back to your eyes, the road, then your legs. A tiny smile forms over your lips, and he smiles back when he turns to you. The exchange goes on and on, looping like a broken tape until he hits a light, letting the vehicle jerk him back to his senses.
He sits up suddenly, spiking your blood as he leans over and reaches around in the car towards your feet. Next to your crossed ankles, he plays with something… plastic and excessive, disturbing the air you two have meticulously created in this space. You sit up when he does, brows furrowed as he presses the convenience store bag into your shivering lap.
"Snacks?"
"For your liver, yes." He straightens up as soon as the light turns, inching his foot on the gas as you messily stifle through the condensation-sticky plastic. You pull out two bottles, letting him drive with one hand as you sit up and inspect it. "It's a vitamin drink you're supposed to consume after drinking. Here you are… after drinking."
You bite down on a smile, feeling those butterflies touch down like airplanes whenever he shows that he cares. He waited for the perfect moment to pull this out, too. It makes you wonder just how magical Satoru truly is.
You tuck the tiny bottle on your lap, digging your hand back in to pull out the unopened, cool bottle of water. He doesn't have to really instruct you on what to do — context clues are still bitchy even when you're drunk and hazy. Still, it feels like you have something to prove, so you crack into the vitamin drink, scrunching your face up as you take the tiny potion in four or five good swallows.
Sure, it makes you want to vomit, but you can feel Satoru's smile before you see it, and it empowers you.
Finishing off the first drink, you shove it back into the bag and reach for the water, hand shaking as you slowly turn the cap off. While he's at another light, Satoru holds his hand out for it, and you pass it over without needing to be told — watching as he peels the cap off like it's paper, bringing it to his lips to take a few sips, then handing it back to you.
"So you wouldn't spill it." He mentions in passing, peeking over at you as you giggle and lean your head back, chugging down the water before he can turn into his apartment's parking deck. You settle in as he parks, putting all the discards together in the bag he'd gifted you.
"I…" He starts slow, eyes squinting down at his console screen as it shows him where to back in. It's like you're privy to every single one of his tiny moves — the way he chews on his cheek when he's focused, or the way the veins and muscles flex when he drives with one hand. He has perfect eyesight, but still squints every time he's looking at something close. He squints when he looks in your eyes, and bites his tongue when he thinks of you. "…I have food in the kitchen. Don't worry, I didn't cook; it's just pizza."
"Pizza… water… vitamins. What else?" You count on your fingers, feeling your drunkness fade with every passing, deep sound of his grounding voice. You're more focused on the butterflies kicking in your insides, and the way his skin glows under the dusky interior light.
"Two slices of pizza before you're allowed in my bed." He challenges, knowing he can only get so far. He hasn't seen you eat today — he hasn't seen you at all. It's why he's so meticulous about his bases being covered.
"One and a half. We share the half."
"Deal, but only if you get the bigger slice." Satoru shifts the car into park and immediately shuts it off, heart already racing and eager to get you out of here and into his arms again. "How are you feeling? Sick?"
"No, just hungry."
He nods like a child who just received good news, eyes wide as he pockets his keys and opens the car door. Of course, he makes it a thing to cross the hood of the car, winking at you in passing before opening your door. "Did you train at all today? No, right? Supposed to be a rest day."
"I just went for a b-bike ride this morning." You reply, squinting as the heavy-duty lighting in the parking deck renders you small and shell-shocked. He stands over you with a smirk, watching you do your face up before holding a hand out for you. "Not a lot; it was before the sun was even out."
"You know what I'm about to say, right?"
"It's not rest if you're breaking a sweat — I know." Your words are all falling together, messy as they topple over into his lap. He helps you onto your feet and keeps you by his side as he locks his car and leads you away. In this new closeness, you feel him differently. "I j- was just worried…" You stop to clear your throat, trying to connect your dragging feet to your running mind, but coming up short every single time. "I was feeling angst… anx—ious, and training is the only way I know how to feel better."
Satoru peeks down at you as you piece together your stumbling train of thought. He leads you through the lobby where everyone knows your name now, not paying attention to anyone but you as you stumble, sway, and side-step. "Call me… next time you have one of those introspective morning bike rides." He settles in as you two step into the elevator.
You rest against the far wall, and he settles on your opposite, hands behind his back as he watches your chest rise and fall against your low-cut shirt. He makes it no secret when his eyes wander — he stares, and it's so powerful that you can feel it even when you can't see it. "Having a man there sounds like my worst nightmare… but I'll make an exception for you."
Satoru smirks at you from across the elevator, and you think you know what this night is going to feel like. It turns out you don't really know anything.
"You still haven't told me about your night." Satoru stands against his counter, bare ankles crossed together as he eats your shared split of dinner. He takes a bite of his plain pizza and nods over at you, cross-legged in the kitchen chair. Your legs are open — light, silk panties on show and forever his to gawk at as he eats his dinner and picks at useless small talk. "I also meant to talk to the Okkotsu kid a little more, but bad timing."
You nod like you're paying attention to him — not like you're giving all of your willpower to keeping your eyes open. "Yeah, bad timing." You yawn around the tail end of your sentence, having more to say, but cut short by his soft laughter.
He smiles, "Coffee?"
You crack a smile, dropping your head into your propped palm as you shake your head. Coffee sounds great, but you fear it won't be enough, so you respond with, "Coke."
His smile falls on impact. "Was that supposed to be funny?"
You giggle, shifting about in your seat as you hang your head and pick up your slice of pizza. "Coffee, yeah. That sounds good."
Satoru turns around with a softer smirk on his face, bypassing the clock that shows the time ticking down through deep morning. He brews espresso for you at half past four, sliding you a small glass of ice water that he dumps the bitter coffee over. "You want some plain water to go with it?"
You shake your head, tucking into the sustenance he's offering you on a diamond platter. The pizza is good, even after being reheated in the air fryer. That was his idea; your drunk ass was more than okay with drunk, cold, gourmet pizza. "Mm, pizza and coffee at four… This couldn't be any more cliché." He swallows around his final bite, sucking the tips of his long fingers clean from the staining red sauce.
"You're so goddamn thorough." You laugh, about halfway through the half-piece you heckled over.
"Why wouldn't I want your stamina to be at its best? Benefits both of us." He points his finger between the two of you, then turns around to wash his hands, looking up at the TV show he put on by the windows for background noise. Tongue-in-cheek, Satoru watches his dirt fall down the drain and smiles a bit, his own body in shambles just thinking of being with you tonight.
"Pizza? Done. Coffee? Chugged."
Cranking off the water, Satoru lingers for a moment, chuckling under his breath as his crotch catches attention. "How's that bladder?" He raises his brows as he turns around with dripping hands, footsteps measured as he stares you down, footsteps dragging as he closes in.
You open your mouth to laugh in disbelief, only for it to get swallowed by his voice.
"I'm fucking with you." He moves in the blink of an eye, closing in and taking you by the chin. Your heart stops beating, your hands tight on the edge of the table and against the chair you're being lifted out of. His tenacity loosens your grip and relaxes your body from the intense focus you're falling into as you wake back up.
His lips start at your neck, using one of his strong hands to bend your head back so he can mark the expanse as his. Satoru leaves hickeys from your chin, all the way down to your collarbone, turns you around, and does the same thing down the length of your neck. Your back pressed to his front, you can feel what's quickly starting to become your favorite feeling — his rock hard need for you, aching and jumping every time he thinks of you.
Satoru thinks you taste like the club — salty and sweaty with the chemical undertone of lotion and perfume. It's his favorite taste once it muddles on his tongue with your pheromones. They're addicting — smoky and deep with the sweetest, sour tinge that he can't explain, but he feels like a dog when he gets to licking, full-tongued down the back of your neck and shoulder.
Scrunching your face up, you part your lips as he leans you into the table. His hand tucks between both of your heated bodies, finding its way between your thighs. Excitement overtakes you, and it hits harder than the arousal does, so you smile as he shoves you deeper.
He's at your mercy already, rutting into you like a dog. "You just— God, you smell great; I gotta eat you out."
Your knees go weak, forearms shivering as he forces you straight into a ninety-degree angle, taking your hips with him as he steps back. "We agreed next time I'd do the oral."
"I've had a lifetime of head, I wanna taste you." The hand tucked safely between your thighs slips away as he lifts your skirt, eyes hyper-focused on the wet spot your cunt is leaving against the delicate fabric that meets his eye. He uses both hands, spreading your soft cheeks apart so he can see how messy you've become for him.
Laid out in his kitchen like you have nothing to lose, you tuck your head over your shoulder so you can watch the expressions on his face change as he works himself up. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing as his fingers run over your clothed core. He's beading sweat on his brow, needing to swallow again before blinking up at you. "Could feel you watching me."
Stale-faced, you raise your brows at him like you have a point to make. "I have an issue with the oral thing."
"Tell me, baby." He swallows… again, lips parted like a man parched, as he takes in a lungful of air, then drops into a squat behind you. "I'm listening!" He reassures, pressing his lips to the back of your thighs, kissing and biting the flesh until he gets to your soaked underwear.
"I just feel the duties of oral in a relationship should be split, fifty to fifty. Not… ninety-ten."
He chokes on a laugh right over your core as he's about to dive in, then whispers, "So dramatic. I'm thinking it's more seventy-thirty for us right now." Still, he lets himself have the final say before he shoves his mouth into you, nose digging into entrance like he's trying to fuck you through the fabric. You try to roll your eyes, but it catches you off-guard, and instead of a moan, you whimper.
Satoru's spit soaks into your ruined underwear, mixing with your juices that create a sinful, salty combo that he sucks back out like you're a straw. He focuses in on that like only someone so full and bloated with servitude that he can't see straight anymore. He doesn't ever get skin-to-skin, just taking his time to inhale your very essence, making sure it stains his mouth and nose so he doesn't smell anything but you for days.
It feels… good, of course, but it doesn't feel like anything that could possibly get you off, so you sigh. "Are you done?"
Deepening his kneel behind you — pressing his knees onto the floor, Satoru chuckles, and you can feel it. "All this talk about numbers — you know this is why they invented sixty-nine, babe?"
Your body gets hot in the only way it does when he's being… like this. Satoru has an unhealthy way of flipping on this unfiltered, lewd way of existing, to the sweetest person ever, and it gives you whiplash. You're still not used to it, and it makes you feel like a born sinner.
"Maybe not for predicaments as shallow as yours, but it exists nonetheless." He kisses the back of your thigh once more before standing up, taking your wet panties with him. He helps you step out of them, then tucks them back in his pocket as he nods you towards the room.
You've never had to work for something more than you're working for it now. Your legs are screaming, eyes struggling to stay open as you hover on top of him, knees folded at his side as he holds you apart and eats you alive. It's so fucking distracting — you've done more moaning on his dick than anything, absentmindedly grinding back on his tongue when he lays it flat against your raw, shivering clit so you can cream all over his face for the third time.
You feel completely removed from self — numb and feeling everything simultaneously. The caffeine killed all the alcohol in your blood, giving your endurance a soft sort of edgy high that keeps you hanging on even after you beg him to stop.
It takes a soft pinch on the inside of your thigh for you to wake up, head hanging as you pant and wince every time he nibbles on you. He wants to talk, but he's suffocated in the best way, so he resorts to guiding you in Morse — two pinches to the ass, don't forget about me.
"S-sorry." You whine, shifting your weight to your dominant arm so you can use the other one to fist at his length, spreading your cooling spit across the shaft before leaning back in.
As soon as you close your lips around the tip, he starts up again and leaves you gagging and pooling spit around him. He groans into your cunt, fingers shaking as he grabs at the softness of your ass, using your body as his personal stress relief.
You're struggling to get into a rhythm, he notices, so he turns his head to the side, sucking in a lungful of air before rasping, "F-fuck — ease up, I'm close. Are you? Come on, we'll cum together."
"No, keep going." You respond in a pitchy whine, hips shaking as you stroke him off in time with his feverish licks and prods. The sheets under you are ruined, and your legs are screaming for a break — all tense and shivering as you try to keep balance over him.
You drop your head again, forgetting about the conquest of getting him off as your own release draws closer. You're coated in sweat — his spit dripping and staining the insides of your thighs as you tap out, squeezing the rock-hard muscle in his left leg.
"Oh, right there — I'm so close, oh my—
"I knew it." He grunts, slapping a hand over your cheek, nose buried and sucking in your air as he fucks you down open on his tongue. "You can't hide that from me, get up."
Your heart drops like he just damned you to Hell — eyes flying open as you sit up. "No! N- keep doing that t-tongue thing."
Satoru laughs, throwing your desire to the wind as he sits up as well, massaging your flesh in his grip so he can maneuver you wherever he needs you to go. "Come on, come here, let me see your sweet face." He purrs behind you, kissing over your naked shoulder, leaving a trail of wetness where he graces that smells a lot like your need for him.
You give in, soul putty for him to play with as you lift your leg, turning around so you two are face to face. You giggle a bit when you see his ruffled reflection — the spit caught in his stubble and the way the bottom half of his face looks ten times redder than the top. You comb a hand through his messy, white hair, letting your nails linger on his scalp as he leans in and kisses you.
It doesn't even cross your mind, let alone Satoru's, to grab the condoms he bought just for tonight. They're littered — forgotten about under the bed where they fell and tumbled when he threw you in the sheets. You're pressed so close that your chest burns with it, but you make no effort to turn away, just so enamored in the closeness and love you two both just excrete like second nature at this point. You should have caught it when he whines between your open lips, "Wanna finish inside of you," But, you don't.
You're a fool in love. And you're a fool overtaken by lust as he helps guide you down his body, hissing when you reach back to stroke his wet cock. You've never been on top like this, at all, but you want to try for him. It's always unnerved you — just how deep he'd be in your womb, but now it empowers you. You nod towards his needy silence, breathing through your open mouth as you lift your hips and run the leaking tip between your dripping, sensitive folds.
Satoru swallows around nothingness, watching you so intently that it feels like acid burning into your skin. His hands naturally gravitate back to your sticky body, running his grip down the front of your thighs as you hesitate and linger, heart racing at the mental image of being impaled so wholly on his length.
"You're okay, sweet love." He murmurs, lips cherry red and bitten raw. You smile around the new nickname, rolling your lips under your teeth as you gain the courage to start sinking down. Just the tip at first, and he understands why — it's new, and everything new is uncomfortable. It feels like he's playing around in your womb only when he's buried a couple of centimeters in.
About halfway through, it feels like he's about to impale you, and the new feeling makes you scrunch your face up and stop. "Fuck, I can't do it—
"Yes." He cuts you off before your doubt can truly sink in. "It's just your nerves; you can do anything."
"It's so deep." You toss your head back, arms shivering as they fight to keep you upright. You shake your head even though he's utterly silent, letting your head drop back down and hang limp between your shoulders. Satoru sits up with you, trailing his hands over your sides to reel you back down to Earth.
He starts so slow, using his pent-up strength to gently ease his hips up, burying his length deeper inside of you. "Look at me." He demands, grabbing your chin and forcing eye contact, nose-to-nose. You peel open your eyes begrudgingly, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try and try. "You can do anything… See?" His thumb prods at your lips, easing its way between your lips. You part them for him, suckling on the end of his thumb as you absentmindedly sink all the way down.
"F-fuck, it's al—all the way in?"
"All the way inside your womb… So warm…" He whispers, close enough to close his teeth around your jawline, creating little indentations in your skin before he pulls back, kissing his handiwork over and over again.
Satoru finally sits back as you start circling your hips, getting used to the new feeling, and letting it become something that you crave instead of fear. He bares his teeth in a soft, seductive way, watching as the morning light pours in through the windows and kisses the side of your body in golden streaks. Your sweat drips down your body like you're made of stone — a true work of art that he can't take his eyes off of.
He helps you ease into a rhythm — lifting your hips gradually at first with his big hands guiding you. You're already sweating again by the time you work up your momentum, panting heavily once he sits back again, leaving you to his vices when you don't need his help anymore.
You pick your hips up like his lap is on fire, head hanging over your shoulder as you ride him like you never have before. Every fuck punches at your cervix, and it'd fucking hurt if you weren't so focused on his pleasure and how close you were to finishing all over him.
"Oh, my God!" You cry out, shooting him a death glare as his fingers find their way to your clit, pinching and circling the tiny bud of nerves until tears burn at your eyes. "Fuck, Go— 'toru, don't stop!"
"There you go, baby girl…" His voice fades around the edges like you're experiencing a brutal vignette — the tears turning into sobs that leave rivers streaming down your face. "Let it all out…"
He's making it worse, but somehow it just feels better. Satoru holds your sanity as you blank out, hips moving of their own accord as you sniffle and sob for him. Broken pleas in the form of his name come pouring out like vomit — both of you uncaring of the fact that there's no condom. He wants to get you pregnant, tell your father, and marry you. It's the only thing he can think about, and the only thing he has to say when his release comes to him faster than a bullet train at full speed.
Satoru doesn't warn you when it comes, and you don't warn him. Your bodies are so much in sync that the second his cock twitches on your down-thrust, you're a mess, creaming and staining his length in your essence. As soon as it starts, you stop, collapsing on top of him, still buried at the hilt.
Then, as soon as he has control again, Satoru flips you onto your back, empties himself inside of you, and does exactly what he promised — guiding your bent knees to your ears so he can love you until the morning breaks into early afternoon.
You don't know if it's the all-nighter or perhaps the mix of liquor and caffeine, but you've never felt this alive before. You've never felt so… free.
summary: in which you and gojo spar as a demonstration for his students and he gets a little too carried away
warnings: mentions of blood, masochism, reader is a jujutsu sorcerer, no established relationship, physical violence, biting, implied blood kink, FERAL gojo, reader is a teacher, dom!gojo, rough sparring
word count: 3.1k
nisa’s notes!: idk what this is help help help it’s unedited and rushed i’ve never written so many words so quickly but first time for everything and also for my first jjk fic!!!! guys idk if i mischaracterised them but tell me if i did LOL art cr: @tiyu0710 on twt
"Where's The Idiot?" you question, folding your arms and leaning back against the wooden frame. Your eyes skim across the courtyard before landing back on the second years who wear the same look of impatience as you.
"No clue. Can't we just get started without him?" Maki sighs, throwing her head back and spinning the sparring stick in her hands.
"He's probably late," Panda adds helpfully with a thoughtful nod.
"Yeah, no fucking shit Sherlock," she scoffs and whacks him across the head with the stick, which results in another long winded, and slightly onesided, argument. You rub a hand across your face and groan, sparing a glance at the silent cursed speech user who watches the exchange with a faint hint of amusement in his gaze.
“Enough. He's here," you jerk your head in the direction which he's coming from, trailing behind him are the first years.
All three of the second years snap their heads towards him, silently watching as he practically skips towards you.
"Well well well. If it isn't my favourite L/N!" he calls out, leaning down so his face is level with yours.
"I'm the only L/N you know," you roll your eyes and reach up to shove his face away from you, but your hand collides with his invisible barrier before dropping to your side. Instead, you step to the side, out of his line of sight. "Idiot."
He chuckles and stands straight again, shoving his hands in his pockets. You aren't necessarily short, but he still towers above you. You don't give him the satisfaction of tilting your head up to meet his blindfolded eyes which you can practically feel boring into your face, instead opting to glare intently at his chest as he steps in front of you once more.
He leans down again, hands still shoved into his pockets and head tilted slightly. His lips are curled into a devilish smirk when he pulls the black fabric up to his forehead, revealing his bright cerulean eyes which are transfixed on you.
You meet his eyes now, your lips curling into a disgusted snarl. "What?"
He's about to open his mouth to speak when the pink haired boy calls out to him, "Uh, Gojo-Sensei?"
His head snaps towards him and he straightens up again. "Huh?"
"What's going on?" he rubs his neck sheepishly with a boyish and slightly apologetic grin.
The girl, who you recognise as Nobara from the many reports thrown at you by the white haired freak in front of you, elbows him sharply in the ribs eliciting a loud 'Ow!' from him.
"What the hell was that for?"
She glares at him before muttering sharply, "Why would you interrupt them?"
"What? They're just staring at each other?" he looks from you, to Gojo, then back to Nobara with furrowed eyebrows.
The courtyard suddenly feels a little too quiet, save for Yuji’s beautifully oblivious confusion.
Gojo’s smirk doesn't fade; if anything, it widens at the first-years' reactions. He lets the blindfold snap back into place over those brilliant blue eyes, though the smug energy radiating off him doesn't diminish in the slightest.
"Ah, youth," Gojo sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if deeply moved. "So impatient, so blind to the delicate nuances of camaraderie!"
“Camaraderie my ass," you mutter under your breath, finally looking away from his chest to cross your arms tightly. "You're late. Again. Some of us actually have schedules to keep, Gojo."
“Maki-chan! Did you hear that?" Gojo gasps, turning to the second-years for backup. "Y/N is being mean to me again!"
“Good," Maki says flatly, resting her sparring stick over her shoulders. "She should've hit you, too. Why are the first-years even here? I thought this was our training session."
“Tuna mayo," Inumaki chimes in, nodding in agreement as he adjusts his high collar.
Nobara, meanwhile, is still glaring daggers at Yuji, who is actively trying to nurse his bruised ribs. Megumi stands a few paces back from the rest of them, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking like he would rather be literally anywhere else on the planet.
"Don't look at me," Megumi says, catching your eye with a look of profound, shared exhaustion. "He dragged us out here. He wouldn't say why."
"Because!" Gojo claps his hands together, the sudden loud sound drawing everyone's attention back to him. He steps into the center of the courtyard, spinning around to face all of you with a theatrical flourish. "Today we are doing a joint tactical exercise! First-years versus Second-years!"
A collective groan ripples through the students.
"And what exactly are you doing?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
Gojo beams, pointing a thumb at his own chest.
"I, obviously, am the prize! Whoever wins gets to spend the day with me. And Y/N here will be the supreme judge, referee, and target coordinator. Isn't that exciting?"
"I'm going to report you to Yaga," you say instantly, already turning on your heel to leave.
Before you can even take a step, a heavy arm drapes casually over your shoulders. You tense, waiting for the impact, but of course, Infinity keeps him perfectly suspended just millimeters away from actually touching you. He leans in close, his voice dropping to a playful whisper right next to your ear.
“Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't be a spoilsport. Maybe after we can go out, if you're good."
The heavy weight of his arm—or rather, the uncanny pressure of the Infinity barrier hovering just a millimeter above your shoulders—makes you stiffen. You glare sideways at him, though all you get is the view of his sharp jawline and that infuriating, blindfolded smirk.
“I’d rather throw you off a cliff," you say, your voice dripping with faux sweetness.
"Aw, details, details!" Gojo laughs, finally releasing you with a dramatic shrug that sends his hands right back into his pockets. He turns to face the students, clapping his hands together once to shatter the awkward tension Yuji had so beautifully created. "Alright, listen up, kids! Since Y/N is being a total party pooper, I will be directing today’s festivities."
“Which means it's going to be unorganized chaos," Nobara grumbled, though she still stepped forward, crossing her arms and sizing up the second-years. Her eyes locked onto Maki. "So. First-years versus second-years. What are the rules, Sensei?"
"Rules? Haven't you learnt anything in the past month?" Gojo shoots the young girl an incredulous look. "There are no rules! Well, just don't kill each other. I guess that's the only rule."
You shake your head with a sigh before stepping in front of him and addressing the students, "Let's get started then. Take your positions."
You take a step back towards the wooden frame of the training building, leaning your shoulder against it and crossing your arms tightly. Gojo, entirely unaware—or just entirely unbothered—by your hostile attitude, glides over to join you. The two of you stand in silence, side-by-side, content to watch the exercise play out.
In the courtyard, the "joint tactical exersice" begins. Or rather, it dissolves into a complete joke.
Without any actual structure, the students face off, but it's instantly clear that the gap in experience is entirely lopsides. Maki parries a screaming Nobara with a lazy, single-handed flick of her staff, looking entirely bored. Yuji lunges at Panda, who doesn't even bother to dodge. Megumi and Inumaki are practically standing still, trading half-hearted steps.
“This is pathetic. What have you been teaching them?" you murmur with a low, heavy breath.
Beside you, Gojo lets out a soft, amused hum. He isn't watching the students with the proud eyes of a teacher, his blindfolded face is tilted slightly towards you, attention lingering on the sharp edges of your locked jaw.
“Give them time," he responds before turning away and clapping his hands once. "Alright! Y/N here is getting bored, and, frankly, so am I. Everyone separate!"
The students begrudgingly step away from each other, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else in the world. The only one who looks remotely excited is Yuji, who's still sporting a bright and boyish grin.
"Hm, what do you think Y/N?" he taps a long finger against his chin. "Think they could use a demonstration?"
"Oh, yeah? You want me to kick your ass like I used to back in the day?" you say with a chuckle, grinning up at him as you recall all the times
"No way," Yuji exclaims and all eyes turn to him once more. Nobara groans dramatically. "You used to kick Gojo-Sensei's ass?"
Gojo throws his head back in a mocking laugh, ruffling your hair playfully to which you scoff and shove him away from you. "Oh, I used to go easy on little Y/N over here, you know, since she's so tiny and all," he wiggles his index finger in your face. "Don't get too cocky."
“I'm not tiny, you're just a giant," you mumble, his smirk widens at your words and he just shrugs.
You reach up to gather your hair up into a ponytail, pulling a plain black hair tie from your wrist and securing it against your hair before tightening it once more just for good measure. God knows how many times Gojo ripped off your hairbands mid spar.
He watches you, and once again you can feel his eyes through the blindfold. His lips are slightly parted as he watches you, looking completely mesmerised by you tying up your hair to prepare for him.
"Fine. Let's give them a demonstration."
His mouth snaps shut and the agonisingly familiar grin is back in place as if it never left. You don't miss the sharp gulp he takes that makes his Adam's apple bob delicately.
* * *
The next couple minutes pass in a blur. He manages to land several heavy hits on you, but you hold your ground and do the same. Dodging when necessary and hitting at every opening you get. You can feel your ribs beginning to bruise, and the heavy panting mixed with the blood coating Gojo's face tells you he is experiencing the same pain as you.
His fist suddenly collides with your cheek, snapping your head to the left and knocking the breath right out of you. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth but you keep it contained, ducking in time before his other fist meets your jaw once more.
With your head still pounding from the force of the punches he's been landing on you continunously, (seriously, what was this guy made of?) you manage to land a counterattack on his own face, then another one, and another one on top of that. Blood drips from his nose in a thin trail and he brings up a hand to wipe at it. Instead of scowling like you, his lips part before a manic grin envelopes his face.
You're both panting heavily, and you take the opening to drive your knee against his groin, but he's too quick. He slams his fist against your chest, sending you stumbling backwards.
“Not bad, Y/N! But not good enough," he suddenly yanks the blindfold down to his neck, his eyes glowing with a predatory gleam before he charges at you. His legs swing out to sweep you completely off your feet, but you anticipate the move, vaulting over his leg and using his own momentum against him to drive him into the dirt.
"Got you," you breathe out after dropping your weight entirely on his chest, your knees digging into the dirt on either side of his waist.
For a fraction of a second, Gojo freezes. Genuine shock flickers across his features—the rare, beautiful sight of Satoru Gojo being caught completely off guard.
Then, his expression fractures into something terrifyingly bright. "Did you?"
Before the words fully register, his knee drives upward with violent accuracy, striking you dead-center right against your core. The sharp, agonizing impact hits your groin and lower abdomen, shattering your focus. Air completely leaves your lungs in a ragged gasp, your vision flashing white for a split second.
He capitalizes on the opening instantly. With a fluid, brutal twist of his hips, Gojo flips the positions.
The world spins, and suddenly you're the one slammed into the dirt, the wind knocked out of you a second time. Before you can even attempt to recover, his massive frame is heavy on top of you, pinning you down. You frantically try to wrench your arms free to strike or buck him off, but he slams his hands down over your wrists, pinning them securely into the dirt above your head. Simultaneously, his heavy knees drive down onto your thighs, completely locking your legs in place.
You're left entirely immobilized.
Gojo leans down, dropping his weight until his face is mere inches from yours. The black fabric of his blindfold is no longer there, so you can feel the absolute, suffocating intensity of his gaze boring into you. His breath is hot against your skin, sending a involuntary shiver down your spine.
He tilts his head, his lips curling into a dark, private smirk as he prepares to whisper something directly against your ear.
But you don't give him the satisfaction.
Gathering the metallic mixture of saliva and blood welling up in your mouth, you spit it directly into his face, where it lands directly on his cheek and the edge of his jaw.
The courtyard goes deathly quiet. You can practically hear the collective, terrified intake of breath from the first and second-years watching from the sidelines. Nobody does that to Satoru Gojo and lives.
You brace for the impact of his anger, for the cold, lethal aura of the strongest sorcerer to crush you.
Instead, Gojo pauses. He slowly pulls back just enough to look down at you. The expression on his face isn't anger—it's something far worse. His features twist, turning entirely feral, his eyes wide and wild as he regards you. The smirk on his lips stretches wider, jagged and sharp.
Slowly, deliberately, his tongue darts out, licking a streak of the blood away from the corner of his mouth.
"Oh," Gojo purrs, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration that resonates right against your chest. "Now you're just spoiling me, Y/N."
You let out a disgruntled noise, looking up at him in disgust and squirming beneath him to try and shove him off.
But Gojo doesn't budge. Instead, his grin sharpens, turning into something entirely predatory. Before you can even attempt to leverage your weight against him, his hand moves with blinding speed, wrapping securely around the front of your neck. He doesn't choke you, but the firm, heavy pressure of his palm against your throat completely pins your head back into the dirt, freezing you in place.
"Now, now," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly register that vibrates right against your skin. "That wasn't very polite, L/N."
With his other hand completely freeing your wrists, you instantly try to bring your arms up to strike him, but his weight is shifted so heavily over your torso and legs that you can barely find the leverage.
Gojo ignores your thrashing. He takes his free hand, using his fingers to deliberately wipe the mixture of your blood, saliva, and his own cold sweat from his jawline. His face leans down even closer, looming over you like a shadow, completely blocking out the sun.
With a slow, agonizingly deliberate movement, he presses his wet, smeared fingers directly against your lips, rubbing the fluid harshly across your mouth to force you to taste it.
Your eyes widen with pure, unadulterated fury. The moment his index finger presses hard against your lips, you don't hesitate—you part your teeth and bite down on his finger with everything you have.
You bite to hurt, your jaw locking like a vice, clamping down until you taste the sharp, metallic tang of his blood filling your mouth.
A sharp, sudden intake of air hitches in Gojo's throat. For a split second, his grip on your neck tightens instinctively in response to the pain, his body tensing completely over yours. But he doesn't pull away.
"Feral," he whispers, his voice practically a growl against your face, a jagged, thrilled smile cutting across his lips despite the pain. "I like it."
His warm blood fills your mouth and you fight the urge to gag, bringing up your own fingers to shove them right into his bright blue eyes. He makes a noise from the back of his throat before his grip loosens and he pulls away from you, untightening his legs around you and stepping away.
You scramble to your feet instantly, leaning to the side slightly to spit out a dark, thick glob of his blood onto the dirt. You wipe the back of your hand harshly across your mouth, smearing the remaining crimson along your cheek as you look up at him.
Gojo's eyes are no longer on you, though. Instead, they're locked on the blood pooling around his fingers and the deep teeth marks engraved into his skin. His eyes are wide and glowing, lips parted in an expression of shock.
"You fucking psycho," you hiss, your voice raspy and laced with venom.
He looks at you as if finally noticing you again, mouth curling into a crazed grin. "Ah, watch your language around the kids."
The kids! You had entirely forgotten they had been watching you, and you immediately snap your head in their direction to find every single one of their eyes on you, their jaws slack. Yuji is pointing towards Gojo and whispering frantically to Nobara who has a palm slapped across her mouth.
“L/N-Sensei, are you okay?" a tentative voice calls out. You don't turn your head to find out who, nor do you bother with a response. Your feet drag you away from the students and towards Gojo, who's still watching you with a sickening smirk. He opens his mouth to make another crass comment, but your shoulder collides with his and he stumbles slightly with a soft 'Oof.'
You continue walking away, ignoring his mocking laughter and the feeling of his eyes drilling holes into the back of your skull, letting your legs pull you to someplace, anyplace, where he would not follow. You can't find it in yourself to care that you're setting a bad example for the kids.
"Same time next week?" he calls out, and you can practically hear the smug smile in his voice. It's almost enough for you to turn around and rip open his neck with your teeth. Almost.
Was the very first thing Satoru heard when he opened the door after your sharp knock. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, white hair messy from running his fingers through it all evening. He had expected his girlfriend to maybe, idk give him a hug or kiss after a long day?! but nooooo. You had other plans, clearly.
You pushed your way into his dorm without waiting for an invitation, and Satoru stood there dumbly for a solid three seconds, mouth half opened, before he closed the door behind you with a soft click. Then you grabbed him by the neck of his sweater and yanked hard, tugging him by the collar into his bedroom. His big frame following behind you obediently, his voice coming out in a stuttered mess.
"ba-babe what's w-wrong?"
As you backed his big body into his bed, your pretty manicured fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts and tugged at it along with his boxers. Your voice rang out again. "You heard me Toru. boxers off." You pulled them down and his thick cock flopped out already twitching with interest. And by the time you settled on top of him, you had one hand on his cock, stroking it impatiently to life and with your other hand, you tugged your panties down. They were already soaked with the sweetness of your cunt. When they were off, you balled them up and shoved them into Toru's mouth, gagging him.
He was already whining, his cock sensitive from your rough handling. Precum slicking your palm as you worked him, then you lifted your hips and began to sink down on his cock, not wasting anytime to tease. The fat pink mushroomy tip of his cock notched at your hole, pushing in as your cunt stretched to take all of his hardened length.
With your lack of patience, you took his cock with little to no struggle, usually there would be a struggle, but you slid down. Sitting on every inch of that thick girth. He mewled weakly at the feeling, the muffled sound vibrating against the cotton in his mouth.
Then came your interrogatory questions.
"Ignored me yesterday? huhh asshole." Your eyes sharp and locking onto his bright blues with anger in them.
His face screwed up, maybe a little annoyed that you called him "asshole". He groaned, shifting on the bed a little, trying to adjust himself more comfortably.
"aah- i didnft, bahbe." Muffled and unclear, his words came out. You didn’t understand what he was trying to say.
You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips into a pout at his feeble attempt at explaining himself. And just grinded down on his cock. "Yeah, you ignored me, Toru." You said again firmly. "Saw my messages and didn't even send a text back."
He looked at you like he was in pain and he tried to talk again, but the panties muffled his voice. You reached two fingers in and tugged them out of his mouth. Finally able to speak properly now, he said "No babe, I didn't! I was studying... for that calc test, remember."
He sounded so pathetic, your pussy squeezing him nicely, around every vein of his trobbing length. You frowned, hands planted firmly on his chest, now.
"Is some test more important than me, your girlfriend?"
Fuck no. He screamed silently in his mind. How could a test ever be more important than his girlfriend's perfect pussy swallowing his cock right now he thought. "Hm toru?" You huffed again, breaking his attention, rocking down on his cock for emphasis.
"Fuck no babe" he blurted out. "Nothing's never more important than you, ever"
That response earned him your fingers digging into his shoulder, you lifted up and then took all of his cock again in one smooth drop. His hands flew to your waist now, he wanted to thrust up into your puffy cunt, drive his cock in deeper. Hoping to fuck into your tight gummy walls.
You saw that pleading look on his face. His eyes glassed over with need, you were still annoyed, so you shoved your panties back into his mouth before he could repeat another desperate, 'sorry'. You were gonna use him good, cause he didn't deserve to speak freely right now.
Your hips rolled slow at first,savouring the way his thickness split you open. Every ridge dragging along your walls and you could feel him throbbing inside you. Hot and heavy. His muffled whines pushing the fabric between his teeth. His fingers dug into your waist, but he didn't dare take control. Not when you had that fire in your eyes.
You leaned forward. bracing your hands on his chest again. your nails scratching lightly over his skin. you started bouncing, proper on him. The wet slap of your bodies filling his dorm room, each drop of your hips, took him to the hilt. Your cunt fluttering around him, squeezing like you wanted to milk him dry.
"You think studying is an excuse, Toru?" You asked between breaths. your voice low and sweet but edged with that annoyance. "I sat there waiting for one little text. And you left me on delivered."
He shook his head fast, Eyes wide and desperate, the panties kept him from forming real words. Only desperate sounds escaped. "mmph-haah-please."
You smiled at that, Mean and pretty. Then, you reached back and grabbed his balls gently. Rolling them in your palm while you kept riding him hard. his thighs trembled under you, cock twitching violently inside your heat. You knew he was close already, always your sensitive, pretty boy.
But you weren't done.
you slowed down again, grinding in circles. Letting his tip kiss that spot deep inside you that made your toes curl. Your own pleasure built slow and hot, moaning softly. Letting him hear how good he felt even when he had been bad.
"My perfect boyfriend can't even spare thirty seconds for me?" You cooed, tugging the panties out once more so you could hear his answer.
"I'm sorry, babe. i swear i didn't mean to," He gasped out immediately, voice wrecked. "Was buried in books and lost track of time. Your messages... fuck i saw them later and felt like shit."
You clicked your tongue, shoved the panties back in. "Too late for sorrys now, Toru."
You rode him faster, chasing your own high. Clit rubbing against his pelvis with every grind, pleasure sparking up your spine. His hands slid up your sides. Thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your shirt. You let him because it felt good. Because even when you were punishing him, you still craved his touch.
His muffled cries grew louder, hips jerking up to meet you despite trying to stay still. you could feel him swelling inside you. So close, and you clenched around him on purpose, tight and rhythmic.
"You're gonna cum inside me," You told him, voice firm. "And you're gonna thank me for it after."
He nodded frantically, tears of overstimulation gathering at the corners of his eyes. You lifted up almost all the way, then slammed back down. Once. Twice. Three times, then your orgasm crashed over you first, walls pulsing hard around his cock. Soaking him with your release, crying out his name, sharp and sweet.
That pushed him over. He came with a broken whine. Thick ropes of cum flooding your cunt and spilling deep while your body milked every drop. His whole frame shook under you. big hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.
You stayed seated on him for a long moment, catching your breath. Feeling the mess between you, his cum leaking out around his cock where you were still joined.
Finally, you pulled the panties from his mouth and tossed them aside. You leaned down and kissed him slow. Tasting the faint trace of yourself on his tongue. He kissed back eagerly, desperate and loving.
"Don't ignore me again Satoru," You whispered against his lips.
"Never again, babe," He promised, voice hoarse, his arms wrapping around you tight. "You're more important than anything. Always."
You smiled soft now. The annoyance melted into warmth and rocked your hips once more, lazily and affectionate. Feeling him twitch inside you even after he had finished.
The night was still young and you had plenty more ways to remind him exactly who always came first in his world.
Rule #1: Don’t flirt with Satoru’s girlfriend. (•̀ ᴖ •́)
The party had moved from the halls of the frat house out into the obnoxiously large garden, bodies danced along the grass while some brave souls dived into the pool in their underwear. It was clear most people were wasted.
You remember Satoru saying something about the party being a “housewarming” for the new pledges, although you knew it was just another excuse for his first bros to get shit faced and for him to stuff his own face with abnormal amounts of confectionery.
Glancing around, you notice that Shoko and Utahime had snuck off together and that Yuki was currently making her move in a very red and sweaty Choso. “Oh, for God's sake,” you sigh to yourself, “Can’t any of them keep it in their pants?”
Just as you were about to search for your boyfriend and unfamiliar raven-haired face blocks your path. He flashed a grin, “Hey, I don't think we've ever met.”
You smiled politely and shrugged, “Probably not.”
The man leans against a nearby tree, clearly swelling with pride as he continues to hit on you. “Well, it's nice to meet you. I don't get to see many pretty girls around here.” You laughed awkwardly, “I mean… I can name a few.”
His eyes flickered around before settling back onto you, “Let’s get out of here. Somewhere quiet, maybe?”
Choking back a laugh, you replied, “Well, I’m actually about to go look for my boyfriend.” To which he laughed, “Really? Who would leave a pretty girl like you all alone?”
“Hey, now,” the unmistakable voice of your boyfriend came from behind him, “That’s no way to talk about the frat president, oh humble pledge.” The man spun around so fast he looked blurry, sputtering a sad excuse for an apology while looking at his feet.
“I-I swear I didn’t know, Gojo!” But the white-haired man only grinned, “Ah, no worries, no harm, no foul. Right?”
You shot him a sceptical look as he slung an arm around you, hugging you into his side. Just as the raven-haired man turned to walk away, Suguru and Sukuna seemed to appear from thin air. The two guys grab onto his arms and legs and begin to hoist him towards the pool.
“Hey! Let go of me! I swear I didn't mean any harm!”
Gojo chuckled, watching as his friends launched the new member of the fraternity into the pool.
A loud splash! echoed the garden, water flew up and covered the pavement. The entire party seemed to freeze, then laughter erupted; even the now-soaking pledge seemed to resurface with a smile on his face. “Alright! You got me. Sorry, man.”
“Good!” Satoru yelled back, not before leaning down to press a wet kiss right on your cheek. You giggled as he pressed a couple more kisses around your face, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “You're so cruel, you know that?”
Satoru just scoffed, “What? As president, I believe reprimandations are in order.” You laughed again, “Is that even a word?” He simply shrugged, tugging you closer to the speakers. “May I have this dance?”
You rolled your eyes, “Only if you promise not to throw anyone else into the pool.” He pretended to think about it, tapping his chin with his pointer finger before answering, “Nah, at least not unless they keep their eyes off of you.”
satoru gojo is the worst when it comes to journeys— no matter how long or short.
unfortunately for you both, today you had to drive three hours to visit your family. it's not even that long, but satoru is already pissing you off, and it's been twenty eight minutes. you've been counting. he started annoying you at four minutes.
maybe it's that undiagnosed adhd that he should've got checked out long before he met you. you still have no sympathy. he's a grown man. he should be able to sit still.
by nineteen minutes, his hand was on your thigh, but not in one of those ways that your past boyfriends have done casually and you got annoyingly turned on. satoru has clearly done it to distract you from driving and have to pull over because you will be so turned on. when you notice his intentions, it makes you smirk a little.
"hands off, 'toru." you try to not let the smirk seep into your words. "it's only been..." you check your watch. "twenty eight minutes."
he doesn't reply, just looks back infront of him, reluctantly retracting his hand, cracking his knuckles as if it was his hands did that, as if they have a mind of their own.
that's when you finally let out a chuckle.
he mumbles something incoherent.
oh, and mind you, he was supposed to be the one driving, but after approximately thirty seconds of having his hands on the wheel, he groaned.
you love him obviously, that's what the whole 'i do' was for. however, in moments like this, it makes you question that a little. whenever you try to tell anyone about how insufferable he is on journeys, you can't seem to quite explain it. it sounds so silly. it's not.
"how about we play a game?" you look over at him very briefly, obviously having to focus on the road.
"...does the game involve me fucking you?"
you don't even reply, but he gets the message— no.
"uh... the game involves... i spy." to be fair, it's the only game you can think of. it's a bad game, but a game, so whatever.
he stays silent for a few moments.
"okay, what if i win, i fuck you, you lose, i fuck you, yes?"
you're about to say yes— anything to shut him up— before you realise.
a groan of pure annoyance escapes you and suddenly both of your hands are on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as you try to not just show him how annoying he's being.
"okay, how about no fucking?" it's not entirely a question from you. there will be no fucking, as long as you can help it.
"i don't even want to fuck. i'm bored." he cuts you off.
"dish soap?!?" you gasped, horrified. you and satoru had started dating not too long ago, and this was your first time sleeping over. to your surprise, the secret behind his unfairly flawless skin was using dawn dish soap. your eyes darted between the bottle in his hand and his confused face. there was no way.
"yeah, it's pret-ty cheap and effective." he rubbed some more into his face. "see?" he wiped away the soap to reveal his porcelain skin. the scowl on your face only grew more as you practically seethed with jealousy. you didn't have an extensive ten-step skincare, but it wasn't as simple as dish detergent.
"not even moisturizer?" you raised an eyebrow at him. you wracked your head for possible subtitles for normal moisturizer that he might be using. body lotion? hm...too on the nose. vaseline? no...that would be obvious. knowing him, he'd probably apply way too much look like someone poured lube or baby oil all over his face.
he watched you silently, mouth slowly curving into a smirk. "you stress wayy too much. wasting money on all these fancy products when you can do it on a budget. quick in and out, trust. you're missing out." he leaned in and you shoved him playfully.
"just tell me what it is!"
"nuh uh." he chuckled, turning back to the sink.
you groaned softly. curiosity killed the cat, yes, but you had to know. you snuck behind him and opened the cabinet below him. ironically, it was filled with products, restocks of his toothpaste, body wash, the soap, shaving cream and more. you scanned them quickly before shooting him a confused look.
"i don't see it..."
he bent down and checked where you were looking. "huh? you're looking right at it." he rummaged around it, tongue stuck out like a cartoon character, before pulling out a bottle. the label was missing, but it didn't take a genius to know what it was.
"...shaving cream?"
"oh yeah," he replied, dead serious, "it works wonders. has a nice soothing effect too!"
honestly, you were speechless. this had to be, hands down, the most blonde you're boyfriend has ever been. and somehow, it worked in his favor.
"only $2.99. well, now it's like $3.50... recession indicator and what not." he waved his hand dismissively. "still super duper cheap. just lather some on, let it sit, then boom! perfect skin."
"wow." was all you could manage. you blinked at him and searched his face for any sign he was joking. there wasn't any. in fact, he looked proud.
he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. a hint of lemon hit your nose. you frowned immediately and turned to him.
"there should be a tlc show for people like you," you shook your head in disbelief. "i'm truly at a loss of words."
"of course sweets." the idiot thinks you're thanking him for putting you onto his bizarre routine. this was enough to give a derm a heart attack. but nonetheless, your boyfriend somehow made it work. "you're so welcome."
the next hour was spent convincing him that he was an anomaly and his method would definitely not work on you.
conversely, it was a shame that nothing on earth could take his breath away. nothing but you…and perhaps the mantaray leisurely gliding by above your heads, separated by inches of thick, indestructuble glass that withstood overwhelming volumes of water with ease.
your awe at the infrastructure is interrupted by the idiot beside you.
"satoru-!" you hiss, gripping a thick bicep and tugging his arm back with an incredulous, soft laugh, "stop pressing your forehead against the glass! what are you, five?"
the minute he turns his head, your eyes soften.
satoru has always been gorgeous, you're well aware of that, and you know he always will be. but it doesn't shock you any less when he turns, and you're met with those pale blue eyes, that strong jaw, that delicate, rounded point of his nose that has so often nuzzled deep into the crook of your neck, for no other reason than to breathe you in.
his blindfold is off - a rare occurence considering how sensitive those eyes of his are. always looking, searching for something most people couldn't put a name to.
snow-white lashes flutter at the sight of you, soaking your visage in with a tender smile.
and then, it's gone - replaced with a mischievous pout and a huff, "you're acting like you work here."
"and you're acting like a child." you retort, folding your arms over your chest, giving him that unimpressed expression he so deeply adores - satoru straightens to his full height, towering over you with an ego big enough to drown several of the fish swimming just a few feet away.
he leans his face down to make it level with yours, features resting into something so dangerously loving that for a moment you swear he's about to kiss you senseless - right in front of a crowd of gawking tourists.
instead, his upper lip curls into a smug grin, and you're reminded of exactly why utahime constantly wants to wring his neck.
"no need to be jealous of the fish, angel." he purrs, and you scoff, unable to prevent the reckless chuckle that bubbles out from your mouth.
"you were pressing your face against the glass, satoru." his grin widens further as your pointer finger presses into his pinkish forehead to emphasis your point, "you literally have a red patch from the pressure."
satoru shrugs, tilting his head vaguely, like a cat listening to someone talk, "what? i can't be curious?"
you scoff, and he laughs as he wraps an arm around your shoulders- a loud, deep, chirpy laugh that has you melting into him, your own arm slipping around his waist, hand burrowing into his nearest jacket pocket to keep him tight by your side.
"within reason." you continue, though now you're both entranced by the rich blue of the water, too hypnotised by the warmth of your bodies pressing side by side to bother with pursuing your teasing.
"within reason." he echoes, thumb brushing over your shoulder. "nothing i do, nothing i'm capable of, is within reason."
his eyes track a school of fish, expression faintly morose, admiring the silver of their scales, glittering like tiny, flexible daggers as they shoot across the water, movements too quick for the eye to follow. the aquarium had been his idea, a place of peace, where normal people without the crippling weight of the world went for fun.
and, more importantly, a place he knew you'd enjoy.
his eyes are no longer on the fish.
satoru barely has to turn his head to look at you, and he doesn't have to be subtle, but he tries to be. you look stunning, here, stood beside him, the lighting an ocean blue. satoru thinks you wear the colour well, which means you wear him well - every shade of blue is his colour, after all.
"stop staring." you mutter without glancing his way, and it's as though the movement of your lips as you speak is a direct tug at his soul, pulling him closer to you.
he's sure you can feel it, too. that little tug that has his lips just aching to connect with your mouth. oh, but you're a stubborn, pretty, little thing, too intent to watch the whale shark float by. why does the shark get all the attention? he's more attractive.
"'m not staring." satoru leans closer, and he uses a hand to turn your head, coaxing your gaze from the fish to him. your eyes are so gentle it leaves him breathless. you raise an eyebrow, and there's that look again: eyes narrowed, more or less amused, lips curved so minutely it would barely have counted as a whisper of a smirk.
you tilt your head, and it's like you've spontaneously grown a spiritual hand and reached deep inside of his chest, wrapping those phantom fingers around his heart and making it flutter, gently squeezing some words out of him.
"i'm…jealous of the fish." he confesses, and you laugh - god, he'd admit to every embarrassing thing he'd done since birth if you'd grant him a chance to hear that sound again.
"well," you hum, "there's no need to be. none are as handsome as you, anyway."
and those are the words he wants to hear, because suddenly satoru's sweet tooth is irritating him to the point of pain, and he's smothering his mouth over yours to satiate it - there's nothing sweeter than your lips, after all.
the world melts away, until it's just him and you, the buzz of his six-eyes, a constant, droning, exhausting power, dulls into the background. when you cheekily nibble on his lower lip, it's like his soul's redeemed, fresh and reborn.
as always, you're the first to pull away for air.
satoru licks his lips, chasing after your sugary taste, pupils blown open so wide that black swallows virtually all the pale-blue of his irises.
you giggle as you wipe your thumb over his bottom lip, wiping it free of residual saliva. "that'll give the workers something to talk about." you murmur.
he catches your wrist with his free hand, leaning forward and bumping his nose against yours, barely. "i love you." he whispers, soft, terribly quiet, just a secret meant for the both of you.
"i love you, too." you whisper back, equally as secretive, "more than any sea creature, that's for sure."
satoru snorts, and the mood shifts - less of the heavy emotion, and more of the lighter stuff, the type that makes the both of you feel like you're floating on air. he steps in front of you, hand still wrapped around your wrist, and starts walking, tugging you to his side with gentle encouragement.
"come on, angel." he grins, "to the beta fish tank."
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ (a/n): hey my loves!! enjoy this little bite-sized fic at your leisure!! as always, don't forget to follow my ao3 (@nanahidesingroves) and my asks are open! love you all <3
(p.s - do you guys think i should make a masterlist? pleaseee lmk)
your fiancée, gojo satoru, has broken a promise for the first time. 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
satoru was never one to let his favorite girl down. of course, you were the light of his life. the only one who kept him grounded. and he knew more than anyone that his being a sorcerer was a total nuisance for his social life— especially his love life.
so he made sure to keep you happy. to let everything fall in the palm of your hand. just one request, question, or statement— he'll take care of anything just for you. he never breaks his promises. hell, he even promised you that he'll never break promises. your pinky feels sore from the many times he's wrapped his around it.
like in that one summer in 2007, it was just the two of you in his hot, humid dorm when he promised he'd put a ring on your finger. specifically, he wanted one with a light-blue diamond that shimmered white in the sun. as if he was the one wearing it. but you grinned at the thought. it would be nice to settle down once the two of you reach the peak of your sorcerer career.
luckily, that promise came through. every day since 2017, you've been wearing a gorgeous 24-karat engagement ring with the very specific light-blue diamond that matched satoru's eyes. and as sweet and sentimental satoru always was with you, he gazes at it every night before bed, pressing kisses on your hand while listening to your enamoring giggles and complaints about going to bed already.
he also likes to twist the trinket around while holding hands with you. satoru loves knowing that it's there— not lost, not forgotten. it was a symbol that you were soon to be wed to him, and he always reminded himself of it.
another well-kept promise of his was to buy you that small house outside of tokyo, away from the city life, full of fields with the sight of both mountains and the sea. perfectly quiet, with the occasional festivals. despite his grievance of it being too far from work or not being big enough (he owns the gojo estate, after all), he still invested in your dream home.
you find yourself falling for him even more when you find that the inside is fully furnished, with even the plates matching the aesthetic of the home. it makes you laugh, making him sheepish. "i wanted to surprise you, baby... i still think the place isn't enough for our five future kids, though," he murmurs as he scratches the back of his neck. you shake your head, smiling as you pull him in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you thank him.
long story short, gojo satoru is perfect.
never fails to give you what's yours. never fails to crack a joke when you're down or support you when overwhelmed with your missions. never fails to give you a kiss when you struggle to ask for affection (but not without a bit of teasing). never fails to tell the whole world about how much he loves you, (the first years are tired).
but what you hold closest to your heart was that he never fails to keep his promises.
so naturally, you believed him.
"i'll win, i promise, honey. don't cry," he whispered against the top of your head, your face pressed against his chest as his arms wrapped around you, and vice versa. you lift your gaze to look at him, your breath hitching at the sight of his radiant, azure eyes. you blink away your tears, satoru wipes them away on instinct.
"stop being cocky," you huff, your lips formed into a frown, which satoru found cute. he gives you a soft smile. "come on, have a little faith in your soon-to-be-husband." he squeezes your cheeks twice, never hesitating to annoy you, even before his life-threatening battle.
"i do," you retort, but he's quick, "then let me fight, sweetie." he says. you sniffle, "i am," but you hug him tighter. satoru caresses your cheek, his teasing reduced to zero as he looks at you like he's trying to memorize each feature etched on your face.
he then raises his pinky. "hey, i said i promise."
it takes a few moments for your emotions to comprehend it— flooded with the thoughts of the possibility of him breaking his promise for the first time.
but you trust him. he's never broken a promise, remember? so you lift your finger, wrapping it around his. "i'm counting on it," you mumble, tears forming again almost immediately. satoru chuckles, "alright," he says under his breath.
inevitably, your lover then leans down, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, pinky fingers still entwined. your heart feels heavy with his gesture, free hand up in his white locks as you desperately feel him— as if your gut tells you that this was going to be the last time.
pulling away, satoru pushes your stray hairs back, giving you a wide grin. it made him look stupid, but nevertheless, you were still in love with it. "come back in one piece, dummy." you mumble, "i can't promise one piece, but i did promise alive." he jokes, making you hit his arm lightly with a smile. satoru savored that look on your face. fear gnawed at him about the thought of leaving you, but you both knew what he had to do.
at that moment, he thought about a recent dream he had one night beside you. you were cooking in the kitchen of the house he bought for you, humming to a song he was unfamiliar with. god, you never looked better. satoru dreamt of walking towards you, the hugest smile on his face as his heart was filled with that bittersweet feeling of domesticity. he called out your name, even making a move to wrap his arms around your waist from behind.
but there was nothing. his hand drew past your body, as if he wasn't there. his voice never reached your ears, given how you uncharacteristically didn't seem to react. a nightmare. he wasn't there for you. he woke up from it almost immediately, and you had to comfort him for the rest of the night. you called him dramatic, but satoru felt like it was a prophecy.
but snapping back to reality, satoru finds himself heading to the battlefield already, waving to his students and colleagues. then his last wave goes to you. his gorgeous smile pinched your heart like you were 16, sitting at a convenience store at two am with him, watching as he devoured 5 different kinds of sweets, plus your leftovers. nevertheless, you wave back, forcing a smile.
and that was the last you saw of gojo satoru.
"this can't be happening." you shakily mumble to yourself, in disbelief as you watch through the wretched stream. mouth agape, eyes wide— set on his dead, lifeless body. unable to do anything but watch as blood streamed out of his torso.
"hey..." your friend, shoko, puts a hand on your shoulder. tight, in reassurance. the other sorcerers are quick to get on their feet, almost all in shinjuku to finish what satoru started.
you don't say anything at first— your chest wouldn't let you. but you lift your gaze, looking into her eyes.
"satoru broke his promise."
𐙚────ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹
a/n: hellooo, this is my first post on the blog. if you've come all the way here, thanks so so much for reading! ♡
sorry if the ending is a bit inaccurate, i haven't read volume 27 yet T_T. if you liked this drabble(?), please do consider reblogging and following me :3 thanks again baddies!
Your daughter finds her father's journal after you both pass away.
Synopsis: You and Satoru's daughter finds her late father's journal after he passes away, just one year after you did.
(as a thank you to all 500 of u for supporting my silly works!! Love u all. )
Tags: Fluff, cute, kinda bittersweet so like angst with comfort. I'm sobbing, lovey dovey husband!satoru x wife!reader, established relationship (married), growing old and reminiscing, nostalgia is a bitch. Kind of canon au but he survives so canon divergence. Middle pic is someones oc but imagine its ur daughter
Spring is in full swing.
Beautiful vast yards of grass are covered in colorful flowers like a Claude Monet painting. Yuuka unlocks the front door to her childhood home nestled deep in the Tokyo mountains where the sun reaches first and the night greets last with quietness and star-covered skies.
The door swings open and dust welcomes her with a sorrowful package. Nostalgia and grief hitting her in that silent but heavy way. It's been one year since her father died and she hasn't had the courage to come back here.
Well, she hasn't really dared to visit as much either since her mother died too, two years ago.
But now, with a will that favor her and her children too much—Satoru having left her, his only daughter, his entire fortune including the house and all of his cherished antique cars—Yuuka can't hide from the place she grew up in anymore.
Her chest fills with old memories and a pressure that reminds her just how lonely it is without her parents. Yet, an undescribable warmth lingers on the surface of the abandoned house—inviting her in as if her mother was still there, waiting with arm's open at the end of the hall and her father trailing behind with his bright smile and light eyes, the same ones she has.
It's exactly how the remembers it. Wooden floorboards that started creaking somewhere along the years, a small foyer with a hanger, a dark oak console table that holds a colorful plate with keys that no longer have owners—and right next to it, frames.
Frames and frames of life.
Of her life.
And her parents' life.
She sees the first frame that she recognizes too well. Where she's on her father's shoulders at 4 years old and smiling as widely as her then-35-year-old father was.
White hair on white hair. Big toothy smiles (she was missing quite a few teeth, but that's not the point) and matching cerulean eyes. Nobody would dare to say she's not her father's twin.
Yuuka remembers you recounting the story anytime she'd ask about how you took the picture on the day of her father's birthday when you both surprised him at work with a birthday party.
The honeyed sound of her mother’s voice rings in her head and her throat starts to burn. She said she wouldn't cry as she can basically feel her dad saying from up there that his princess shouldn't cry, but she can't push back the first streak from falling down her face.
Another frame shows you and Satoru on a sunflower field. His large hands that can could cause irreversible damage to the world softly curved and gently holding his world as he cups your then 6 month bump from behind.
Then holding his world. Head dipped and snuggled into your shoulder where he was pressing fragile kisses to, Satoru made you giggle at the exact moment the picture snapped and your smiling and glowing figure was recorded forever.
His daughter remembers him boast about the picture and how much he loved it. She can see why. You look radiant in it.
The next frame is the largest one. It's importance needing to be pronounced because it's the grounds for this house and her own existence.
Your wedding portrait.
This year, Yuuka knows you would've celebrated your 60th anniversary with Satoru. But in the picture, back then, you were just 26. Young and still as beautiful as you were in your last moments.
All kind eyes and soft smiles wearing a white dress that looked made for you. A lively bouquet of flowers in your hands, with the same kind of delicate petals she'd grown to favor through the years.
Satoru was on your right.
Supposed to be looking at the camera.
But he wasn't.
He was looking at you. Unable to rip his eyes from his then-bride as you looked straight ahead onto the lens. Lips slightly parted and head lowered to you, Satoru looked like he was starstruck.
And Yuuka could see how much he loved you then.
And she saw how much he loved you till his last breath.
Even when you were no longer with him.
Her father's spirit is recorded in every corner of the house.
Past the entrance hall there is an open old-fashioned kitchen to the left that is a sore sight for her knowing that three years ago she would've walked in to see you—with your weak bones and wrinkled skin—cooking and jumping at the sight of her visiting.
On the right there is a vast living room with an outdated TV you both sentimentally refused to allow your daughter to change, and a couch that has lived longer than her.
Where she spent a lot of time on. Play fighting with her dad, watching movies with friends as a teenager, screaming when she got into her dream college, crying when she announced her pregnancy to her parents.
Her life is in this house.
And far back is the master bedroom where you slept with your husband.
Yuuka's steps are hesitant as she draws near the entrace. The door creaks open with an ear-splitting screech.
She's met with the sight it always had. A comically large bed as her father was 6 feet 3 and never slept a day without her mother. Two nightstands filled with more pictures to the brim, some of her but most of them.
Polaroids glued to the wall from more than 60 years ago—from back when her parents were still dating—a walk-in closet her father hand built and designed for his wife as he knew they would have no place to keep the gifts he spoiled her with.
And a small entrance in the roof that leads up to the attic where Yuuka has rarely ever been in.
That catches her attention like a moth to a flame. She's tall enough now—being 180 and allowing her to catch some modeling gigs as a teenager—she easily pulls down the trap door and attached stairs come down as well.
Almost 60, with her kids well into adulthood, her knees hurt just a bit as she climbs the stairs. And up in the attic she's met with so much dust it's hard to breathe.
Her lungs beg for release so she cracks a window open in the roof which illuminates the space for her to finally see and not be engulfed in darkness.
Boxes stacked on top of boxes is pretty much all there is save for a few pieces of old furniture you've both replaced sometime.
There are labels named with your handwriting on every piece of cardboard.
"Wedding pictures, 2019."
"Honeymoon pictures, 2019."
"Yuuka, 2020~2040."
"Y/N L/N, 2014-2018." Of when you were dating her father, not yet married.
"Y/N Gojo, 2019-2076." In Satoru's messy handwriting. He must have made your box once you passed away.
A small smile places itself on Yuuka's lips as she eyes how much bigger the box of your belongings as Y/N Gojo is. Knowing how much Satoru loved to spoil you.
She's about to open the box from your youth when a small, new-looking box catches her eyes.
It's yellow, sealed around the edges, with a different label on the front. And as she pulls the strangely light, seemingly empty box closer to her, she notices the different handwriting.
Oh.
It's her father's box.
"Satoru Gojo, 2014-2077."
Her heart aches at the slightly faded ink.
Satoru died in 2078.
But he stopped living when you did.
So in 2077 his life ended.
He must have stayed only for her and his nephews.
Now, as she stares at the box, the memories of her father's tense smile—not at all how it used to be—in his last year cloud her mind and a sob rips free from her chest.
Hooking her shaky fingers around the sides, she tugs the tape off and opens the the box to find it almost empty—only a worn out journal in the middle.
"My angel." Is written in the middle in cleaner but still recognisable as her late-fathers handwriting.
Her mouth falls open at the sight. The spine threatens to split as she picks up the overstuffed, yellow paged pages.
For a second, she hesitates.
It's a diary after all.
She's not supposed to see this.
But she can't help it.
Gently, she peels open the wrinkled book to see the first page.
She imagines her father's voice booming through the attic as he reads.
January 14th, 2018.
Hello future me! My beautiful beautiful beautiful amazing wife (we aren't married yet but we will be) (i already bought the ring, she doesn't know yet hihi <(￣︶￣)>) said that I should not post so much about my life on facebook because it's dangerous and something about digital footprint as if i know what that's about.
Anyway, I did kind of listen to her and stopped for a while.
But then my lovely wife saw how sad I got and she bought me this journal! She even engraved out initials in the back!
Yuuka flips the diary to indeed find your initials pressed into the leather on the back.
She continues reading.
So I'm going to start writing even though it is probably not going to be as satisfying as Megumi, Yuji and Nobara (Nanami sometimes) commenting on my amazing facebook posts.
Anyway, Y/N is making cake and I can't let her whisk anything as the great husband I am so bye!
February 1st, 2018.
Guess who is engaged? Guess who said "I do!"? My wife!!!!!!! My fiancee. I am getting married. I feel like a little kid who got his favorite candy. I was so nervous like it took me back to when Yaga would catch me Shoko and Suguru doing something wrong.
Y/N is really happy with her ring and I gotta admit, I nailed it.
Can't wait to see her in a white dress and then make a family. Love my wife so much.
June 26th, 2018.
When did my little kids become so big ಥ_ಥ? We won against the Kyoto sister school today since well, long story short we got attacked a few days ago blah bla blah so we decided on a match of baseball! And I knew I trained the kids well because we absolutely destroyed Kyoto! Am I not just great?
Still at work right now, have my diary locked in my secret drawer with candies. Miss my wife so much (´;︵;`). I wonder if she'll let me sleep on her in the bathtub again today. She said she couldn’t breathe because I'm too heavy. I am not heavy! I work hard for these muscles, I'm jacked and she knows it. (个_个) Can't wait to go home.
July 4th, 2018.
Nobara is at it again with her shopping shenanigans, Yuji just called me saying he physically can't handle carrying her bags anymore. I told him to man up and carry them. My sweet Y/N has never carried a single bag, paid for anything or opened a single door in my presence. Maybe I should just make a robot that opens and does things for her when I'm not around.
Or I should just quit my job and be with her 24/7!
She's been so stressed lately with so many wedding preparations. I mean I help, and I try to relieve her stress with my amazing methods but it doesn't seem to be working. She's been forgetting to eat her meals and I'm worried. I think she's putting too much pressure on herself. I don't want her to change anything about herself for the wedding. I'd marry her tomorrow if it meant i could have her now.
But she wants a ceremony, says it's every little girl's dream. So i comply. I'll try making her something tonight. Or just pick up the macarons she likes. Yeah.
July 21st, 2018.
My wife has just brushed me off because she says she has to go try on wedding dresses! Am I the asshole if I don't want a ceremony anymore? Just give me my wifeeeeee! This is crucifying. Painful. My heart hurts.
Also, she banned me from coming with her. I want to see the dresses too... Why does Utahime get to go but I don't? I'm tired of this. I'm bored. Maybe I should ask Nanami for help. I do need to get my suit... and my shoes... and get a haircut—it's kind of early for that... Y/N gets a little feral when I cut my hair and I don't think she wants a baby at our wedding.
Oh i could start thinking of baby names!
Yuuka's face scrunches up at her father's words.
August 17th, 2018.
I am actually not as committed to this, but at the same time I am yk? Anyway, today we got a wedding cake sample taster thingy! We got it from Nanami's girlfriend, she has a bakery. It was a huge cake with each slice a different flavor, it was amazing. Me and Y/N saw the gates of heaven. I'm glad we agreed that Chocolate and cookies and cream mouse is going to be our cake, its our wedding and we eat what we want to! It's amazing getting married to your soulmate like Y/N is so amazing we had the same opinions on every single slice. Like the lemon tart was awful, well, not literally. But for a wedding cake? I felt a shiver go down my wife's spine.
Anyway, I do want the ceremony again. For now, as my precious angel gets ready for the big day, I'm planning the honeymoon. It's going to be epic. Thinking of Italy, greece, or maybe a retreat in the moutains. She likes quiet places. Said we should have a house up high.
Maybe I should make her a house as a wedding gift! Ooh~ Can i get that done in 4 months..?
October 7th, 2018.
Told the wifey I was out for a business trip—and I am! Sorta. Me and Nanami are looking for land (i am paying for his "overtime" →_→ but he's been really helpful so...). Feeling a bit bad for lying to Y/N... Will prob tell her the truth after the house is built. I've found out it will be done earliest (unfurnished, but I'll leave her to decorate it) by March.
And feeling really bad because I'm away from her! Just one more day and I'll be home! Wedding soon!
November 19th, 2018.
T minus 5 days till our wedding!!!! I'm getting married! Wonder what Suguru is thinking of it. Wish he were here. As my best man.
November 23rd, 2018.
It's tomorrow.
Tomorrow I marry the love of my life. The woman that has held me through the good and bad without needing vows. Speaking of vows, I'm nervous to say them. Needed a lot of help from Shoko to put my love for Y/N into words. I wonder how she feels because she's Y/N's maid of honor as her bsf passed away not long ago. I guess me and my wifey have lost a lot together. We are still together tho. Perfect for each other.
I can't wait to see her tomorrow. I am going to cry I'm saying it now. Recording it for wifey to see it someday. I know myself. She also said she knows I'll cry. I will. Can't wait. I probably won't be able to sleep tonight. I hope Y/N doesn't feel my heartbeat going insane.
I'm getting married!!
February 1st, 2019.
Help, I forgot to update for a while. Today is our one year engagement anniversary. Was on my honeymoon... if you need a reminder, Satoru, check your camera hihi. Anyway, my lovely baby is having a baby! We're pregnant! Well, she is. I don't get why people say that. I'm rethinking that idea of making her a robot that helps around since I'm still working. Either way, Y/N is so so so pretty with her two month bump, we'll know the gender next week. I am soooooo excited. But i know we are having a girl so i guess it's no fun.
I'm not going to tell her i saw it with my six eyes... but i knew way before too! I knew it was a girl since day one!
Can't wait till she finds out. My wife. Yep im a husband, almost father. She looked mesmerizing, like nothing i could have ever imagined on our wedding btw. Yes, i cried. And im still the manliest man and strongest man she knows. I love you so much, Y/N.
February 30th, 2019.
Hi Satoru's diary, it's your wife. You ran out after i muttered the words "I lowkey would go insane for some doritos and vanilla ice cream right now." And left this for me to find on your desk while i napped. I'm sure you didn't want me to find out about this, i haven't read anything i promise. Maybe the first line on page one before starting to sob. Your daughter is making me really moody. I hope you're already thinking of baby names.
I love you so much, Satoru. You have no no no idea at all. You're the light in my day, the reason behind my smiles, the motive behind the stars in my eyes. You're my everything and I'm so glad I married someone so perfect as you. We have had our arguments and downs, but look at us! 6 months away from being parents! Who would've thought? 2012 me would've been screaming crying and throwing up over the fact that I'm having a baby with my senior crush!! Okay cutie I think I hear ur footsteps, love you so much bye bye. Kisses, love.
-your wife.
August 8th, 2019.
Baby Yuuka is here! Welcome to the world my little princess, you are already so loved. Uncle Nanami is currently holding you with the softest look on his face, it's actually scary. His wife wants a go at holding you too but I'm pretty sure I can see the cogs in his head turning and I'm pretty sure he wants one now too. Slow down, Nanamin, you've been married for three months (we made Yuuka on our honeymoon).
Your mother looks gorgeous. Tired? Yes. But so bright. I'm giving your aunt five minutes until I kick everyone out so your mom can sleep and I can take care of you.
You are a NICU baby in case you didn't know, Stressed the living life out of me and your mom when you came out half-dead. The world went quiet when you were in intensive care. We weren't well. It was the scariest thing in the world.
I almost lost my wife. We have agreed to not have any more children. But I'm certain that you will be more than enough for us. Why am I already starting to cry at the thought of you leaving for college and getting married?! You're barely a day old!
Anyway, thank you to my wife for giving me the best gift in the world. I love you, Y/N.
December 7th, 2019.
Yuuka's little babbles are the cutest thing ever help my heart is melting. It's my birthday! I'm 30... thirty and flirty! (Only with my wife.). Y/N got me a vintage record player! And all of my favorite songs! Mornings have just updated, will blast Mine by Bazzi and sing my soul out to my dearest tomorrow!!!
Sweetheart is tired, her milk ducts keep getting clogged, Yuuka is a pretty fussy baby. I try to stay up and massage her tense shoulders, she passes out in the tub while I wash her hair. It's so cute. I remember when I used to be the one falling asleep on her. Well, now the perks of being the strongest come in handy!
January 3rd, 2020.
First Christmas with a baby and first New Year done! Apparently...Nanami is having a baby too... what a Christmas present... I got a Christmas present like that too... Is he copying me..? Me and Y/N are dropping off the little princess at her grandparents to go and visit our friends. Been a while, need to update Suguru about how my daughter is crawling.
January 14th, 2020.
Was looking at the calendar today and I was like"I feel like today is something important." And it is! Been journaling for two years now! ( ◜‿◝ ) Re-read my entries and found out my darling wrote one! She's so adorable l love her so much I'm going to explode.
Yuuka is a clingy adorable baby, her mom calls her a velcro baby. I secretly hope her first words are dada and i sometimes teach her how to say it, hopefully Y/N doesn't see this oups. Anyway, speaking of my wife. She looks so good I just want to—
Modern-day Yuuka slams the book closed before her eyes catch the next words. With tears running down her cheeks, she decides she's invaded her father's privacy enough.
There's a whole thousand of pages to read, history of more than 60 years in them.
But what lies inside are secrets between you and Satoru.
Moment's she's not supposed to remember and that's fine.
Her chest is still tight with longing and ache.
She's never missed her parents so much.
The clean smell of fresh linen and softener her mother always eluded.
The feeling of her feet dangling in the air when her father would pick her up in a hug.
Or the comforting taste of mom's kikufiku she'd mastered because her husband adored it.
It's all so beautiful.
The love you both shared.
A love so deep it birthed her.
A love so deep it raised a child.
A child who years to go back to simpler times.
She understands now when you both acted like cringy teenagers even in your forties.
And she used to be embarrassed about it.
About her parents being so in love.
But now, a mother herself.
She understands it so much.
And she's so happy you are together now.
As much as she misses you both.
Yuuka is happy you're both reunited.
Watching over her.
Back to my roots (fluff). Hi <3
This was in my drafts alr written but im waiting on the poll results for my next clear out. Looks like suguru and scarjo(mylove) are coming back!!
Synopsis: Another night, another successful diamond heist—or at least it was supposed to be. Just when your about to escape, Batman Toji and Spider-Man Gojo corner you on a rooftop and immediately start arguing over who gets the honor of dragging you to jail first. Unfortunately for them, you're much better at making deals than getting caught. And when neither hero can agree on who gets to claim their prize, you offer a far more tempting alternative...
It was the middle of the night when the city finally quieted down enough for you to move. The moon hung low and bright over Gotham, casting silver light across rooftops and alleys while the distant hum of traffic and late-night chatter drifted up from the streets below. You moved like smoke along the edge of the tallest building on the block, the one everyone knew housed the most expensive jewelry store in the city.
Your black catsuit clung to every curve, the glossy material stretching tight over your hips and chest as you crouched beside the ventilation shaft you had scoped out days earlier. The mask covered only the upper half of your face, leaving your mouth free and your eyes sharp behind the dark lenses. A large canvas sack hung from your shoulder, already empty and waiting to be filled.
You slipped through the vent without a sound, landing soft on the marble floor inside the store’s back hallway. Security lasers swept lazily across the main floor, but you knew the pattern by heart. One quick dash, a roll under the beam, and you were standing in front of the reinforced glass cases that glittered under soft display lights. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires—rows of them winked at you like they had been waiting just for you. Your gloved fingers worked fast, popping locks and lifting the most valuable pieces into the sack. Necklaces heavy with stones, rings that could pay rent for a year, watches that cost more than most cars. The sack grew heavier with every careful grab, the weight settling against your hip in a satisfying way.
Then you saw it.
In the center case, under its own spotlight, sat a diamond the size of a walnut, cut so perfectly it threw rainbows across the walls when the light hit it just right. Your breath caught for half a second. That one was coming home with you. You smashed the glass with a gloved fist, the alarm staying silent thanks to the jammer you had clipped to your belt earlier. The diamond dropped into your palm, cold and heavy, and you slipped it into a special pouch inside your suit before turning back to the rest of the vault. You didn’t stop until the sack was bulging and your arms ached from the weight. Only then did you sling it over your shoulder and head for the service exit you had left cracked open.
The door never opened.
A massive shadow dropped from the ceiling and landed between you and freedom. Batman Toji stood there in full gear, the black cape settling around his broad shoulders like it belonged to him. The cowl hid most of his face, but you could still see the hard line of his jaw and the way his eyes narrowed the second they landed on the sack hanging from your shoulder. He was built like a goddamn tank—shoulders wide enough to block doorways, arms thick with muscle that strained against the armored suit, chest rising and falling slow and steady like he hadn’t just dropped from three stories up. The city loved him. Kids had posters. News anchors called him a hero. Right now he just looked pissed.
"Put the bag down, Catwoman,” he said, voice low and rough like gravel under tires. “You’re not walking out of here with that.”
You tilted your head, letting a slow smile curve your lips. “Damn, Bats. You always show up looking this good or is tonight special just for me? Those arms look like they could bench press a car. Makes a girl wonder what else you’re packing under all that armor.
Toji didn’t even blink. “I’m not here for your bullshit. Drop the bag. Now.”
You took one slow step closer, the sack shifting against your back. “Come on, handsome. We both know you don’t really want to drag me to jail tonight. Look at you—big, strong, serious. Bet you’d rather be doing something a lot more fun than paperwork.”
His gloved hand flexed at his side. “Last warning.”
You laughed, low and throaty, and that was when he moved. He came at you fast, one hand reaching for the sack, the other aiming to pin your wrist. You twisted away, using the momentum to swing the heavy bag into his side. It connected with a dull thud and he grunted, but he recovered quicker than you expected. A gloved fist grazed your ribs and you hissed, ducking under his next grab. The two of you traded blows in the narrow hallway—your agility against his raw power. You landed a kick to his thigh that made him stumble, but he caught your ankle on the next swing and yanked you off balance. You rolled with it, using the pull to flip backward and land on your feet again.
“Feisty,” you panted, circling him. “I like that.”
“Shut up and fight,” he growled, lunging again.
This time you were ready. You slipped past his reach, slammed your shoulder into the emergency exit bar, and burst out into the alley. The sack bounced against your back as you sprinted for the fire escape ladder. Toji was right behind you, boots pounding the pavement. You climbed fast, muscles burning, the diamond collection clinking softly inside the bag with every rung. By the time you hauled yourself onto the rooftop, your lungs were on fire and the city stretched out below like a glittering map. Toji’s silhouette appeared at the edge of the roof seconds later, cape snapping in the wind as he pulled himself up after you.
You backed up a few steps, sack still slung over one shoulder, chest heaving. The moonlight caught on the black material of your suit, highlighting every curve. Toji straightened to his full height, breathing steady despite the chase. His eyes never left you.
“You’re fast,” he said, voice carrying across the open space. “But not fast enough to outrun me forever.”
You smirked, wiping a bead of sweat from your temple with the back of your glove. “Keep chasing me like this and I might start thinking you like the view from behind.”
Toji took one deliberate step forward, fists loose at his sides. “You’re going to jail tonight. That’s all there is to it.”
The wind picked up, carrying the distant sound of sirens that hadn’t quite reached this block yet. You shifted your weight, ready to run again if you had to, the heavy sack a constant reminder of exactly how much trouble you were in. Toji’s presence filled the rooftop like a storm cloud, all muscle and quiet fury, and for the first time that night you felt the real weight of what came next.
You didn’t waste another second. The moment Toji took that single step forward, you spun on your heel and bolted across the rooftop, the heavy sack of stolen jewels bouncing against your spine with every stride. The wind tore at your mask and the black fabric of your catsuit as you vaulted over the low ledge and landed on the next building, boots scraping concrete. Behind you, the unmistakable sound of heavy boots followed—Batman Toji wasn’t letting up. His cape snapped like a flag in the wind, and every time you glanced back you caught the glint of his cowl under the moonlight.
You cleared another gap between rooftops, heart hammering, when a thin white strand suddenly snapped across your path. You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Of course. The web belonged to only one person, and you already knew who was waiting at the end of it. Spiderman Gojo dropped down from a water tower in that ridiculous red-and-blue suit, landing in a crouch that somehow still looked cocky. The mask hid his face, but you could practically feel the shit-eating grin underneath it.
"Bad kitty,” he called out, voice bright and teasing even as he shot another web that you had to dodge mid-run. “Stealing from a jewelry store? That’s low, even for you. What, diamonds not shiny enough on your own collar?”
You laughed under your breath, the sound carried away by the wind as you kept moving. Both heroes were gaining, and the bickering started almost immediately.
“Stay out of this, web-head,” Toji growled from behind you, his voice rough and irritated. “She’s mine tonight.”
Gojo’s laughter rang out, light and unbothered. “Yours? Please. Last time you said that I still had to save your ass from falling off a fire escape. Besides, the people love me more. I’m the fun one.”
"Fun doesn’t put criminals in cuffs,” Toji snapped, leaping across the same gap you had just cleared. “And I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
You couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter that escaped you as you sprinted. Their voices carried easily over the rooftops, the two of them arguing like you weren’t even there.
“Admit it, Bats,” Gojo continued, swinging ahead of you on another web line. “You just don’t want to share the credit. Or maybe you like the view too much to let her go.”
"Shut the fuck up,” Toji barked back. “Focus on the job instead of running your mouth.”
You were still laughing when the next building came into view and your stomach dropped. It was too high. The gap was wider than any you’d cleared tonight, the edge of the opposite rooftop a good twenty feet away and at least one story higher. Your boots skidded to a halt right at the ledge, the sack swinging forward and nearly pulling you off balance. The laughter died in your throat.
Both men landed behind you in perfect sync—Toji’s heavy landing sending a small cloud of dust into the air, Gojo touching down light as a cat. You turned slowly, the smirk sliding back onto your face like a mask of its own. Hands raised in mock surrender, you let the sack dangle from one finger.
“Alright, boys,” you purred, voice smooth despite the adrenaline still rushing through you. “Looks like you finally cornered the infamous Catwoman. Impressive. Really. But here’s the thing—I’m willing to make a deal. You let me walk, and this very heavy, very expensive bag of shiny things hits the ground right now. No chase, no cuffs, no paperwork. Everybody wins.”
Toji didn’t even hesitate. “Not happening.”
Gojo tilted his head, the white eyes of his mask narrowing slightly. “Tempting offer, but I’m gonna have to pass. You’ve been a very bad kitty tonight and I think it’s time you learned some manners.”
You made a show of letting the sack slip an inch lower, watching both of them flinch in perfect unison. The sight pulled another laugh from you, low and throaty. Neither one of them was listening to the actual words coming out of your mouth. They were too busy staring at the bag like it was the only thing that mattered. Fine. Time for plan B—the one that always worked when heroes got too eager.
The silence stretched between the three of you like a live wire, the distant wail of sirens still too far to matter yet. You let the smirk linger on your lips as you watched both heroes stand there, rigid, the weight of your first offer clearly not landing. Fine. Time for something they couldn’t ignore.
You tilted your head, voice dropping into a low, velvet purr. “Fine. You can drag me off to the authorities… or,” you paused, letting the word hang while your hips began a slow, deliberate sway. Step by step you closed the distance to Toji, the heavy sack of jewels still dangling from your fingers before you set it down with a soft thud.
Your gloved hand rose, fingertips tracing the hard planes of his armored chest, feeling the faint rise and fall of his breath beneath the suit. “You both could have your way with me. Right here. Right now. Wouldn’t that be more fun than paperwork and handcuffs?”
You bit your lower lip, eyes flicking between them, letting the suggestion settle. Gojo’s masked head snapped toward Toji, the white lenses of his mask narrowing. Toji’s jaw flexed, visible even under the cowl, but he didn’t immediately bark a refusal. Instead his gaze dragged over you, slow and heavy, before he rolled his eyes and exhaled through his teeth like the decision physically pained him.
Gojo let out a short, incredulous laugh, but there was heat under it. “She’s serious. Look at her. Bad kitty making the worst best offer of the night.”
Toji’s silence was answer enough. The bulge pressing against the front of his suit was impossible to miss, and the way his gloved hands flexed at his sides told you everything. You smiled, bright and wicked, excitement sparking through you as you stepped away from him and toward Gojo.
You reached up, fingers hooking under the edge of his mask and lifting it just enough to expose his mouth. The second your lips met his the kiss turned messy, open-mouthed, tongues sliding hot and wet. Gojo groaned into it, one hand immediately gripping your waist while the other tangled in the back of your suit. You moaned right back, the sound swallowed between you as you pressed closer, bodies flush.
Your free hand found the zipper at the front of your catsuit. The metallic rasp was loud in the night air as you dragged it down, inch by inch, revealing the swell of your breasts, the smooth skin of your sternum, the curve of your stomach. The cool rooftop breeze kissed newly exposed flesh and your nipples tightened instantly. You kept the kiss going, sloppy and hungry, saliva glistening on both your lips when you finally pulled back just enough to breathe.
“See?” you whispered against Gojo’s mouth, voice husky. “Told you it’d be fun.”
Toji’s low growl rumbled behind you, but he didn’t stop you. His eyes stayed locked on the way your suit gaped open, on the way your body moved as you leaned back into another deep, wet kiss with the web-slinger. Gojo’s hands roamed greedily now, one sliding down to palm your ass through the remaining fabric, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.
“Fuck, kitty,” Gojo breathed when the kiss broke again, lips shiny. “You taste like trouble.”
You laughed softly, the sound turning into a moan as Toji finally stepped in close behind you, his large frame boxing you between them. His gloved hand found your hip, fingers digging in possessively while his other hand reached around to cup one of your breasts through the open suit, thumb brushing over your nipple. The contrast of his rough touch and Gojo’s eager grip had heat pooling low in your belly.
“Both of you,” you murmured, voice thick with want, “are way too eager for this. Thought you wanted me in cuffs.”
Toji’s mouth brushed the shell of your ear, breath hot. “Still might. After.”
Gojo chuckled, already leaning in for another kiss, mask still pushed up just enough. “Speak for yourself, Bats. I’m enjoying the view right now.”
Your zipper kept sliding lower under your own fingers, the suit parting further as the night air and two pairs of hungry hands explored every inch you revealed. The chase was over. The real game had just begun.
The zipper kept descending under your fingers until the glossy black fabric parted all the way down your front, the cool night wind rushing over your bare skin and making your nipples pebble tight. You let the catsuit hang open, the heavy material sliding off one shoulder as you pressed your body back into Toji’s broad chest. His gloved palm immediately claimed your left breast, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp, while Gojo’s hands slid down your hips and gripped your ass through the remaining fabric, fingers digging deep into the soft flesh.
“Fuck, look at you,” Gojo breathed against your mouth, mask still pushed up just enough for his lips to brush yours with every word. “Tits out on a rooftop like a filthy little cat in heat. You really gonna let us wreck you right here where anyone could see?”
Toji’s low growl vibrated against your ear. “She’s been asking for it all night. Running around in that tight suit, shaking her ass, thinking she could tease us and get away with it.” His free hand slid down your stomach, pushing the open zipper even lower until his fingers brushed the slick heat between your thighs. “Already wet for us, kitty. Pathetic.”
You moaned at the rough touch, hips rolling forward into his hand while your ass pushed back against Gojo’s grip. “Maybe I like being caught,” you purred, voice husky. “Maybe I want both of you to fuck me stupid up here. Think you can handle that, Bats? Or are you all talk?”
Toji answered by yanking the rest of your suit down your hips in one sharp tug, the fabric pooling around your boots. He spun you around to face him, gloved fingers gripping your jaw as he crashed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue pushed deep, claiming every inch while Gojo dropped to his knees behind you, spreading your cheeks and dragging his tongue straight over your tight hole in a filthy, wet stripe.
"Shit—!” you gasped into Toji’s mouth, knees buckling as Gojo’s tongue circled and pushed, spit dripping down your crack while his fingers dug into your thighs. Toji caught you easily, one massive arm hooking under your leg to hold you open as he shoved two gloved fingers into your dripping pussy without warning. The stretch burned so good you cried out, clenching around him while Gojo kept eating your ass like he was starving.
“Listen to her,” Gojo mumbled against your skin, voice thick with spit. “Moaning like a whore already. Bet she’s never had two heroes ruining her at once.” He spat directly on your hole and pushed his tongue back in, fucking you with it while Toji’s fingers curled hard against your front wall.
“Gonna make you squirt all over my hand before I even put my cock in you,” Toji growled against your lips, adding a third finger and pumping faster. “Then I’m gonna stuff both your holes until you’re leaking our cum down your thighs like the greedy little thief you are.”
Your head fell back against Gojo’s shoulder as the pleasure built fast and sharp. Toji’s thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles while his fingers fucked you open and Gojo’s tongue kept working your ass. The wet sounds were obscene in the night air, your moans echoing off the rooftops as your thighs started to shake.
“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna—” you choked out, hips jerking wildly between them.
Toji’s mouth curved into a dark smirk against your throat. “That’s it, cat. Cum for us.”
The orgasm hit hard, your pussy clenching and squirting around Toji’s fingers while Gojo groaned and lapped up every drop that ran down your thighs. They didn’t give you time to recover. Toji freed his thick cock from his suit, the heavy length slapping against your stomach, and Gojo stood up behind you, mask still half-lifted as he freed his own cock and pressed the head against your spit-slick ass.
"Ready to take both of us, kitty?” Gojo asked, voice rough with need. “Gonna fill you up so good you’ll forget how to run.”
Toji gripped your hips, lifting you like you weighed nothing and lining his cock up with your soaked pussy. “Answer him, cat. Tell us you want it.”
You barely had time to nod before both men thrust forward at once, Toji burying himself to the hilt in your cunt while Gojo pushed into your ass. The stretch was overwhelming, your body shaking as they filled you completely, your moans turning into broken sobs of pleasure. They started moving immediately, rough and relentless, using you between them on the open rooftop while the city lights glittered below and distant sirens wailed somewhere far away.
"Fuck, she’s tight,” Toji grunted, pounding up into you hard enough to make your tits bounce. “Taking both cocks like she was made for it.”
Gojo’s hands gripped your waist from behind, driving into your ass with sharp thrusts. “Such a good little slut for us. Gonna pump you full, kitty. Gonna make you leak for days.”
They fucked you harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing across the roof. Your body bounced between them, every thrust punching moans from your throat as they used you without mercy. Another orgasm built fast, your walls fluttering around both cocks as they hit every sensitive spot inside you.
“Gonna cum again,” you sobbed, nails digging into Toji’s armored shoulders. “Please—please don’t stop—”
Toji’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision spark. “Cum on our cocks, cat. Show us how much you love being used.”
You shattered again, squirting hard around Toji’s cock while your ass clenched on Gojo’s length. They didn’t slow down, fucking you straight through it, chasing their own release with brutal thrusts. Toji came first, burying himself deep and flooding your pussy with thick ropes of cum, the heat pushing you into another smaller orgasm.
Gojo followed seconds later, groaning loud as he pumped your ass full, both men holding you up as their cum started leaking out around their cocks and dripping down your thighs.
They stayed buried inside you for a long moment, breathing hard, hands roaming your sweat-slick skin. Toji’s mouth found yours again in a slower, messier kiss while Gojo pressed soft bites along your shoulder.
“Fuck,” Gojo muttered, voice hoarse. “We’re not done with you yet, kitty.”
Toji pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from your used pussy before he turned you around and pushed you down onto your knees between them. “Clean us up, cat. Then we’re flipping you over and doing it all again.”
You looked up at both heroes through hazy eyes, their cocks still hard and glistening with your slick and their cum, and smiled like the filthy little thief you were.
You looked up at both heroes through hazy eyes, their cocks still hard and glistening with your slick and their cum, and smiled like the filthy little thief you were. The night was far from over.
Toji’s gloved hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back so you had no choice but to meet his dark stare. “Open that pretty mouth, cat. Clean every drop you left on us.” His voice was low and commanding, the kind that made your thighs clench even though you were already wrecked. Gojo chuckled behind you, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your spit-slick ass while his cock twitched against your cheek.
"Fuck, she looks so good on her knees like this,” Gojo said, voice thick with lust. “Our little kitty thief all messy and dripping. Bet you love tasting yourself on our cocks, don’t you, kitty?”
You didn’t answer with words. Instead you leaned forward and dragged your tongue up the underside of Toji’s thick length, collecting the mix of your juices and his cum in one slow, filthy lick. The taste was obscene, salty and slick, and you moaned around him as you took the head into your mouth. Toji’s hips jerked forward, pushing deeper until your lips stretched wide around his girth. At the same time Gojo pressed his cock against your other cheek, smearing more cum across your skin.
"That’s it, cat. Suck him nice and deep,” Gojo praised, his hand sliding down to grip your ass hard enough to leave bruises. “While you’re at it, stroke me. Don’t be shy—use both hands if you need to.”
Your fingers wrapped around Gojo’s cock, pumping him in time with the bobbing of your head on Toji. Spit ran down your chin, mixing with the cum already coating your lips. Toji’s grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements with rough little thrusts that made your throat flutter around him. “Good girl. Take it deeper. Show us how bad you want to be our filthy little cumdump.”
Gojo’s free hand reached down and pinched one of your nipples, rolling the stiff peak between his fingers until you whimpered around Toji’s cock. “Look at these tits bouncing while you suck. So fucking pretty. I’m gonna paint them next time I cum.”
Toji pulled you off his cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening head. “Enough. I want that pussy again.” He hauled you up like you weighed nothing, spinning you around and bending you over the edge of the rooftop ledge. The city lights sparkled far below, sirens still distant but growing louder. The danger only made your pulse race hotter.
Gojo moved in front of you, lifting your chin with two fingers. “Open up for me, kitty. I want that throat while Toji wrecks your cunt.”
Toji didn’t wait. He slammed into your soaked pussy in one brutal thrust, the force rocking you forward onto Gojo’s waiting cock. You choked around the thick length as it pushed past your lips, tears springing to your eyes from the sudden stretch in both ends. Toji’s hips snapped forward again and again, the wet slap of skin echoing across the rooftop while his heavy balls smacked against your clit with every stroke.
“Fuck, she’s still so tight,” Toji growled, one hand gripping your hip while the other reached around to rub your swollen clit. “Even after we filled her up she’s squeezing me like she never wants to let go.”
Gojo’s fingers threaded through your hair, holding you steady as he fucked your mouth with long, deep strokes. “That’s because our kitty loves being used. Don’t you, cat? Love having both holes stuffed by the heroes you tried to run from.”
You could only moan around Gojo’s cock, the vibrations making him curse and thrust harder. Toji’s pace grew brutal, each thrust punching the air from your lungs and driving you deeper onto Gojo.
Your tits swung beneath you, nipples brushing the cool concrete ledge. The overstimulation was almost too much—your clit throbbed under Toji’s rough fingers, your pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick cock while your throat worked around Gojo.
“Gonna cum again,” you tried to say, but it came out garbled around the cock in your mouth. Gojo laughed breathlessly.
“She’s trying to talk with her mouth full. Cute.” He pulled out just long enough for you to gasp in air before pushing back in. “Cum on Toji’s cock, kitty. Show us how much you love getting fucked stupid on a rooftop where anyone could see.”
Your orgasm crashed over you hard, pussy spasming and squirting around Toji’s length as your vision whited out. Toji groaned at the tight squeeze, fucking you through it with short, punishing thrusts that kept you shaking. Gojo pulled out of your mouth and stroked himself fast, painting thick ropes of cum across your face and tits while you moaned and trembled between them.
Toji didn’t stop. He kept pounding into your oversensitive cunt, chasing his own release with single-minded focus. “One more, cat. Give me one more before I fill this greedy pussy again.” His fingers worked your clit mercilessly, pushing you straight into another orgasm that had you screaming his name into the night air.
He buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, flooding your already dripping pussy with another load of hot cum. It leaked out around his cock, running down your thighs in thick white rivulets. Gojo knelt in front of you, licking his own cum off your tits with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue while Toji stayed buried inside you, grinding lazily through the aftershocks.
“Fuck,” Toji muttered, voice hoarse. “We’re keeping this one.”
Gojo grinned up at you, cum still glistening on his lips. “Yeah. Our little cat thief isn’t going anywhere tonight.” He stood and helped pull you upright, both men sandwiching you between their hard bodies again. Distant sirens grew closer, blue and red lights flashing somewhere below, but none of you moved. Toji’s hand slid between your legs, pushing two fingers into your cum-filled pussy and scooping out some of the mess before bringing it to your lips.
“Taste how full we made you, kitty.”
You opened your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers clean while Gojo’s hand roamed over your ass, already teasing at your hole again. The night air was cold against your sweat-slick skin, but their bodies burned hot on either side of you.
Toji’s thick fingers stayed buried between your thighs, lazily pumping the mess of cum deeper into your swollen cunt while Gojo’s cock pressed hot and heavy against your lower back. “Still so fucking wet for us,” Toji growled, voice rough as he curled his fingers and dragged another whimper from your throat. “Our little cat can’t get enough, can she?”
Gojo’s free hand slid around to cup one of your tits, thumb flicking over your nipple as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder. “Look at you, kitty. Dripping down your thighs like a good little cumslut. Bet you want us to bend you over that ledge again and fuck another load into this greedy hole.” His fingers teased your rim in slow circles, pressing just enough to make your knees buckle. “Or maybe you want both of us stretching you open at the same time. Double stuffed while the whole city watches.”
You moaned around Toji’s fingers, hips rocking back against Gojo’s teasing touch even as your body trembled from the overstimulation. Toji pulled his hand free and slapped your ass hard, the sharp sting making you gasp. “Speak up, cat. Tell us what that filthy mouth wants.”
“Both,” you breathed, voice hoarse from earlier use. “Want both of you inside me again.”
Gojo laughed, low and filthy, spinning you around so your back hit the cold concrete ledge. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, hooking your legs over his hips while Toji moved in behind you. The head of Gojo’s cock nudged against your slick entrance, and Toji’s thick length pressed between your ass cheeks, already slick with spit and cum. “That’s our greedy kitty,” Gojo praised, pushing inside your pussy in one smooth thrust that had you crying out. “Taking us so fucking well.”
Toji spat into his palm and worked two fingers into your ass, stretching you open while Gojo started fucking you in steady, deep strokes. The double sensation had your head spinning, your walls fluttering around Gojo’s cock as Toji replaced his fingers with the blunt head of his dick. “Relax, cat. Gonna fill both these holes nice and full.” He pushed in slowly, the stretch burning sweet and sharp until he bottomed out and you were pinned between them, stuffed to the brim.
"Fuck, she’s tight,” Toji groaned, hips snapping forward to meet Gojo’s rhythm. The two men found a brutal pace, thrusting into you in alternating strokes that left you gasping and clawing at Gojo’s shoulders. Your tits bounced with every impact, nipples brushing Gojo’s chest while Toji’s hands gripped your ass hard enough to bruise. “Look at you, taking two cocks like you were made for it. Our perfect little thief.”
Gojo’s mouth found yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding against yours as he swallowed your moans. “That’s it, kitty. Scream for us. Let the whole damn city hear how good we’re fucking you.” His hand slipped between your bodies to rub your swollen clit, and the added pressure pushed you straight into another orgasm. Your pussy clamped down hard, squirting around Gojo’s cock while your ass clenched around Toji. Both men groaned, fucking you through it with rough, punishing thrusts that had you shaking and babbling their names.
Toji came first, burying himself deep and flooding your ass with hot cum. The feeling triggered Gojo, who slammed in to the hilt and painted your insides white, his cock pulsing as he filled your pussy to overflowing. Cum leaked out around both lengths, running down your thighs in thick rivulets as they stayed buried inside you, grinding through the aftershocks.
“Fuck,” Toji muttered, biting at your neck. “Could stay buried in this ass all night.”
Gojo grinned against your lips, still half-hard inside you. “Same. Our kitty’s got the best holes in the city.” He pulled out slowly, watching the mess drip from your used cunt before setting you on shaky legs. Toji followed, his cum trickling down your thighs as he stepped back.
You swayed for a moment, catching your breath, then your eyes flicked to the bag of stolen valuables still sitting near the ledge. A wicked little smile curved your lips. While both heroes were distracted, admiring the way their cum marked your skin, you snatched the bag and bolted for the far edge of the rooftop.
“Hey!” Toji barked, lunging after you, but you were already climbing onto the ledge. The drop was dizzying, the city lights sparkling far below, but you’d done this before. You turned back with a cheeky salute, bag slung over your shoulder.
"Thanks for the fun, boys. This was very fun. Maybe we can do this another time. Bye, bye!” You blew them a kiss, then leaped off the building without hesitation. Your grapple line caught the edge of the next rooftop, swinging you safely into the shadows as the wind whipped past.
Toji reached the ledge a second too late, staring down into the darkness with a scowl. “Goddamn it. She got away again.”
Gojo leaned over beside him, still completely naked and utterly unbothered, a lazy grin on his face. “Eh, let her go. She earned that bag after how hard she worked for those creampies. Besides, I’m kinda into the whole ‘sexy cat burglar who keeps escaping us’ thing. Gives us a reason to chase her again.” He clapped Toji on the shoulder. “Next time I’m bringing snacks. And maybe a bigger dick upgrade for you, Bats. You looked a little jealous back there.”
Toji just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the distant wail of sirens grew louder below. “You’re the worst partner I’ve ever had.”
Gojo laughed, already swinging his suit back on. “Love you too, Bats. Now let’s go explain to the commissioner why we let Catwoman get away with half the city’s diamonds. Again.”
the soft click of the front door closing is the only warning you get before satoru is instantly making his presence known.
you’re sitting on the living room rug, leaning against the edge of the couch with a notebook open in your lap, when a massive, heavy weight suddenly drops down right behind you. two long, familiar arms wrap securely around your waist, pulling you backward until your back is pressed firmly against his broad chest.
"you're home early," you murmur, leaning your head back against his shoulder with a soft smile.
"i missed you," satoru groans into the crook of your neck, his voice a deep, lazy rumble that vibrates right through you. his sunglasses are already discarded somewhere on the entryway table, leaving his striking blue eyes completely uncovered. "the meetings ran short, and all i could think about was getting back to you. look at me."
you twist slightly in his embrace, turning your head to look at him. the moment you do, satoru leans down and immediately captures your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. it’s warm and slow, tasting faintly of the sweet iced coffee he always buys on his way home, and it instantly melts away whatever stress you had accumulated throughout the day.
when he finally pulls back a fraction of an inch, his eyes are crinkled at the corners, filled with a gentle, affectionate warmth that he only ever saves for you.
"satoru," you laugh softly, reaching up to frame his face with your hands. "let me finish this page first."
"nope," he says simply, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "the page can wait. i haven't seen you in eight hours. that's basically a lifetime."
before you can argue, he leans in again, but instead of going for your lips, he shifts his target. he plants a soft kiss right on the center of your forehead, his soft white hair brushing against your skin. then, he moves down, peppering light, rapid-fire kisses across your eyelids, the bridge of your nose, and the apples of your cheeks until you’re giggling out loud, trying to swat his hands away.
"hold still," he murmurs against your skin, his voice muffled by your cheek as he kisses his way down to your jawline. "i'm making up for lost time."
his hands move from your waist to gently cup your face, his long, warm fingers stroking your cheekbones with immense gentleness. satoru can be loud & entirely dramatic to the rest of the world, but in the quiet space of your apartment, he is nothing but incredibly soft. he kisses you with a quiet & patient devotion, taking his time as if there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
he presses a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another one right on your chin, before finally pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his gaze wanders over your face, completely captivated, a tender, soft smile resting on his lips.
"there," he whispers, his thumb gently wiping away a stray speck of ink from your thumb. "now you have my full permission to finish your page. as long as i get to stay right here."
you let out a quiet sigh of contentment, leaning your head back against his chest as his arms wrap tightly around you once more, anchoring you in place. "deal."
it’s way too early in the morning and satoru’s perched up on the counter chair peacefully eating his cereal.
you yawn, padding up to him sleepily. seeing just how adorable and calm he looked, you ofcourse had to do something about it.
“hey babe” he chews, with his jaw working lazily and his pale hair all fluffed up.
you hum in response, coming up behind his chair and then slowly starting to climb him. you bring one leg over his shoulder maintaining balance by digging your palm into his skin.
your husband’s hand pauses for a slight second where he seems to mull over your actions and then, having come to some conclusion he continues to sip on the milk and eat his cereal.
you bring your other leg up and over hoisting yourself with a surprising smoothness.
not like you hadn’t mounted him before.
“watcha doin’?” you sing-song trying to play it cool as if you do this everyday. i mean, your boyfriend was a tree you’d climb any-day but…maybe under different circumstances.
“oh i was thinking we’re low on groceries, do you wanna join me later today?” satoru continues his conversation with you as if there was nothing abnormal about this situation.
you lean down to look into his eyes upside down, while carding your fingers through this messy yet soft hair.
“sure!” you chirp in response not really surprised at his lack of reaction.
satoru was a man as clingy as they came and you sitting on top of him like this was heaven in his mind. he rubbed your thigh affectionately excited by this new side of you.
“you’re so boring” you huff, swatting at his hand.
“BORING?” he gasps dramatically.
“yes boring, i wanted to see how you’d react to me sitting on your shoulders like this”
“oh i’m reacting alright, actually everything is reacting” he shrugs his shoulders with you on top of him, almost making you lose balance and you grab onto his ears hard to maintain it.
“ow-“
“can you be serious for one second?” you exclaim, literally fighting for your life.
satoru tilts his head upwards to look at you, “you know what, i love this you should do it more often!” he grinned his stupid smile, eyes shining bright.
