Satoru who is the kinda baby daddy that would drop everything and everybody to be around his woman.
Satoru who is more than happy to go to the gas station at 2 am to get Cheetos and cherry yogurt for his wife’s pregnancy cravings.
Satoru who is foaming at the mouth to fuck his pregnant wife, especially after the doctor recommended it.
Satoru who is now exhausted, cock sore and shooting blanks after his pregnant wife used him all day.
Satoru who cries when his wife cries, and then cries again when she tells him to stop crying.
Satoru who always has a hand on his wife’s stomach, whispering to the baby and starts yapping about stupid conspiracy’s.
Satoru who, while your giving birth is micro managing the doctor and following around the nurses to make sure they do everything right.
Satoru who, when the baby is born, immediately tries to mark it with a sharpy so it doesn’t get mixed up with another baby, even though the baby is the only one with white hair, and is also the BIGGEST baby in the fucking hospital.
Satoru who REFUSES to let his wife or his baby out of his sight for the next month at the minimum.
Satoru who sent a letter back to the elders. The envelope was empty and the only thing inside was a cut out middle finger.
Satoru who, even after his wife has given birth, is making sure everything is perfect and taken care of, and refuses to let her lift a finger.
Satoru who cries with the baby, and manages to piss the baby off enough that baby glares at him.
Satoru who gets jealous of said baby when his wife is breast feeding.
Satoru who gets INSANELY possessive and ups security, refuses to let ANYONE except you or him hold the baby, and won’t let anyone in the house.
Satoru who loves his baby and his wife. And plans on fucking at least five more babies into you once your baby becomes a toddler.
Satoru who will genuinely kill anyone who tries to hurt or offend his wife. This man is insane and will lose his goddamn mind if he finds out something has happened to his woman or his baby.
thinking about bittersweet comfort sex with !trap/drugdealer!jj before he’s dragged away to jail…
jj knew it was over for him.
the minute he caught glance of the camera, just tucked away, recording him beat someone and then shoot him, jj knew he was fucked.
there was no point in fighting it, he knew it wasn’t going to be a fight he’d win when those sirens would sound.
so he told you — told you in one big word vomit, blood still on his hands, that he’s in trouble.
big trouble.
he doesn’t have a lot time before they came, and he just wanted to be with you before he got dragged away in cuffs.
or a bag.
so you stayed with him.
real close.
from a tense conversation, a bittersweet sentiment, to you led on your back, his fingers slowly curling in and out of you as you cried.
your hands were shaking, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, afraid to let him slip away.
he didn’t take his eyes off you, memorising every damn detail etched across your skin, to the way your face fell in pleasure, eyes fluttering and cheeks wet.
he wanted it all committed to his brain, to hold him through the god knows how much time in a cell.
“i know, i know. shh.” he cooed, kissing your cheeks with sickening tenderness, kissing the tears away like it would heal your pain.
his fingers curled upward, expertly trained, making you cry out and grab his arm. but you weren’t pushing him away — not even pulling him closer.
just holding him.
making sure he was still here.
“‘m here, baby.” he whispered against the crown of your head, — reading your mind — peppering kisses before his free hand enveloped yours in a warm, tight hold.
you both squeezed.
you both squeezed hard.
you looked up at him with wet lashes, moans and cries filling the air as bittersweet pleasure coiled in your stomach.
it was warm.
it was empty.
it felt so, so good.
it hurt so, so bad.
you held on tighter, crying as you pushed your hips a little to match his movements.
“please — jj, please.” you begged, pleading with him, but you both know it wasn’t to cum.
it was to stay.
“yr’good, girl. c’mon mama, let it out.” he coaxed, curling his fingers as the impending doom grew in his chest, as his stomach fluttered.
it crashed over you in hot waves of emotion, the pleasure lingering before being broken with a sob from your throat as sirens rolled through from the distant.
a lot of them.
jj’s eyes squeezed shut as he worked you through the orgasm, forehead sliding to yours as his hurt eyes, held your fearful ones.
—in which, Gojo doesn’t want people to know you’re dating him because it’ll fuck up his rep.
A/n: I've been absent for a while, but I think I'll have a few more works coming up soon. Remember to hit up the inbox and request- literally any prompt or any idea, because my brain juice is empty. Dw tho, bc my friend bought shrooms.
part two>>
Gojo Satoru is 50% nerd and 50% dork. All wrapped up in pale, lanky guy that’s way too tall for his own good.
He wasn’t popular in the normal popular sense. No he was popular among the group of dorks he hung out with.
The kind of guys that were perpetually virgins. The kind of guys that make fun of regular popular kids, taking everyone at face value and assuming they have no problems of their own.
You were one of those popular girls. You weren’t mean. You weren’t loud and obnoxious. No, you were kind and sweet and so pretty it hurt to be around you.
You were the kind of person that had all kinds of friends. You didn’t stick with just one group. You were friends with the sports kids, the theatre kids, the band kids, the fucking chess club, hell you even befriended the goth kids that think popularity is just another form of conformism.
Everybody loved you.
And Gojo was not an exception.
From the moment he saw you walk in late to the first fucking lecture of the semester. All pretty in simple fitted longsleeve and a simple pleated skirt that went mid thigh, a jacket only zipped barely halfway keeping you warm.
“I’m so sorry!” You’d apologize to the professor, who just rolled his eyes and waved you off because it was too early and he was only a few years older than you.
(Live laugh love young professors who dgaf)
And the entire time, his eyes never left you. Gojo was sat in the back, his weird little buddies on either side of him. His glasses pushed too far up, hard messy and his sweat shirt sat awkwardly on his body.
It was like he physically couldn’t look away. Not from the way you’d laugh awkwardly and sit down at a random spot. Regardless of who was next to you, you’d say hi and talk with the neighbor.
You two couldn’t be more different.
Which made the current situation, even weirder.
“Oh fuck,” Gojo mumbled against your lips, hands pawing at your hips, large and squeezing as they slid down to your ass.
One hand cupping his jaw, the other pressed against his chest, nails digging in each time he’d grunt into the kiss.
What was supposed to be a study session, ended up with you on his lap, thighs bracketing his hips and his lips swollen from how he was kissing you.
“We- we should be s-studying—“ Gojo would pant and moan lowly each time your hips grinded against the tent he’d pitched in his pants.
“We’ve been studying, let’s take a break.” You’d murmur against his jaw, pressing kisses down to his shoulder before biting down teasingly.
It started there. And after that night, it only snowballed into a secret relationship.
You were both absolutely head over heels for each other. The first month or so, was perfect. Absolutely amazing.
Sneaking around was fun, and it gave you both an adrenaline rush— you’d kiss when nobody was looking, sneakily hold hands, run off to go hook up in some single bathroom, or hell you’d even snuck him into your dorm more times than you could count.
But it got old.
It got old quick.
“Baby, do we really have to do this whole sneaking around thing?” You whined, slipping back on your clothes.
“Yes.” Gojo didn’t waste a second to answer, his answer firm and sure.
His quick answer hard your heart aching. At first, you’d thought he’d wanted to keep it secret for you, but no.
“Come on, you’ve gotta leave before anyone sees you.” Gojo was hurrying you out the door, but the moment he’d had you out in the hallway, one of his buddies was standing right beside the door.
Blinking slow, surprised to see one of the most popular girls leaving his friends room wasn’t what he was expecting. “Gojo?”
Gojo stared down at him, like he got caught red handed. “Uhh— I was tutoring her.”
“Hi! It’s nice to meet you, I’m—“ you went to shake the guys hand but he just gave you a disgusted glare that had you blinking in surprise.
“Dude why are you even tutoring her? Isn’t it just a waste of time? Not like she’ll even retain any of it.”
Oh. That was really mean. You looked back up at Gojo, expecting him to back you up, but all he did was push you further out into the hallway.
“Yeah, probably was a waste of time.” Gojo was quick to agree with his buddy.
“…” You just stood there for a long moment. “I thought… that you liked me?” You whispered, looking at the ground and sounding so hurt and fragile it had the air knocked out of Gojo’s lungs.
“What are you babbling about? Go do your make up or some shit and get outta our flat.” The guy was waving you off and walking into Gojo’s dorm.
That was the final straw, because the dam broke and tears started to flow. You tried to speak but all that came out was a pathetic little squeak. Your throat tightened and burned, and you were embarrassed. So fucking embarrassed.
Quickly, you turned on your heel and walked down that hallway as fast as you possibly could without breaking into a sprint.
Gojo just watched. He watched with his heart in stomach as you ran off. Running a hand over his face, he groaned. He fucked up— so bad. Knowing he’d hurt you like that made him sick.
But with his friend in his dorm, he just sighed and walked back inside, hoping that his buddy couldn’t smell your perfume still on his sheets.
That night, you went back to your dorm. And cried. Cried so fucking hard that when your roommate got home she thought your dog died.
You cried. And cried. And cried. All night, and stayed cuddled up with your best friend.
And then the day after that, was silence.
Rubbing his eyes, still groggy from the literal three hours he got from sleep, Gojo sat down in his seat. His eyes automatically landing on the back of your head.
He’d tried calling you, maybe 80+ times, sent god knows how many texts. And every single one of them got left on delivered. No call was answered, and hell— he even sent an email just in case.
But all he got was radio silence.
And the entirety of the lecture, he didn’t write down a single note. Hell he didn’t even get out his fucking computer so he could even type.
His eyes were glued to the back of your head. He hardly blinked. He knew he had to talk to you after this class. He wanted to apologize and try to fix whatever he’d broken as quickly as possible.
So when that bell rang, he simply got up, and waited for you outside the door.
But when you came out, you didn’t even look at him. Eyes still a little red and swollen from crying the night before.
“Hey— wait, can we talk?” He grabbed your wrist gently, not expecting you to immediately tug it out of his grip like you did.
“No.” It was a firm, short answer.
Gojo blinked, not used to hearing you talk to him like that. “Please, I really wanna apologize about what happened last n-“
“Gojo. Leave me alone.” You shot him a glare, your bottom lip threatening to quiver as you felt that familiar tightness in your throat, that burn that meant one thing and one thing only— you wanted to cry again.
He couldn’t handle it. It physically hurt to see you like this— to see you literally repulsed by his touch.
“Please! I need to explain— and- and make it up to you—“
“I don’t want anything to do with you! You made it clear that I embarrass you. You let your asshole friend walk all over me and you literally said we studied when we’d just fucked!” You were yelling now.
It was so out of character for you, that literally the hallway stilled and even the profesor stuck his head out the door so he could watch.
“I mean— is that really all you want from me? Just to fuck and then push me out? You said you like me! A lot!” Tears ran down your cheeks and you felt humiliated.
“I do! I like you so much- and I don’t only want you for sex! God— no that isn’t what I want at all,” gojo was struggling to find the words, and all the eyes now on them didn’t make it any better.
“You didn’t want it at all? So what, was this just a point you were trying to make?” Your voice was softer, and you couldn’t have felt more hurt— hell you couldn’t have felt more used than you did now.
“No! God no, please can we just talk in private and—“
“I hate you. I hate you so much, I can’t believe I was in love with you.” You were crying now. Hands trying to wipe your eyes but the tears didn’t stop.
“You were in love with me? You love me?” Gojo’s voice was whisper now, eyes wide and breathless.
“Not anymore.” With one last glare, you pushed past him and walked down the hallway.
He didn’t move. Just stood there. Feeling a sense of loss that he couldn’t even put into words. His shoulders dropped and he just kind of stared at the spot you once stood at.
