a/n. i've been sitting on wanting to create a small scene like this for a while now. so here ya go! lemme tell ya'll... breastfeeding is not always this magical and beautiful thing that people make it out to be. it hurts like hell, my bloody nipples can attest.
cw: domestic fluff. angst with comfort. satoru's trying to make breastfeeding easier for you.
“Satoru,” you whisper, voice tight with frustration. “She won’t latch.”
You’re trying not to cry.
Looking down at your newborn, you can see her frustration—tiny fists clenching, soft, hungry cries spilling from her mouth as she wriggles restlessly in your arms. You shift again, adjusting her position, cradling her closer, trying—begging—for something to click.
But it doesn’t.
Her mouth bobs and searches blindly, cheeks flushing red with effort, and the desperation building in her fragile little body mirrors your own.
“I—I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you choke out, blinking hard as tears blur your vision.
You’re exhausted. Beyond it. The sleepless nights at the hospital. Your body aches in places you didn’t even know could hurt. And this—this thing that was supposed to be natural, instinctual, beautiful—feels awkward and impossible—like a test you’re failing over and over again.
“Please, baby girl…” your voice trembles as you guide her to your breast one more time. “Just—c’mon—o-ow!”
She latches, but it’s wrong. A searing pain shoots through your chest and you flinch, instinctively pulling her away. Your nipple throbs—red, sore, screaming for relief. With a shrill cry, your baby’s tiny face crumples in protest, and your own tears finally fall—hot and helpless.
“Why is this so hard?” you whisper, voice cracking as you hold her close, shaking.
Satoru's voice is low behind you—steady, but laced with worry.
His hands come to rest gently on your shoulders, warm and trembling, his thumbs moving in slow circles like he can massage away the frustration knotting in your muscles.
“She’s only a few days old…” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, lips lingering in your hair. “She’s still learning. Fuck… we are too.” He exhales shakily. “You’re doing the best you can, sweetheart. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”
He straightens, blue eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something—anything—to help.
“What can I do? Do you need anything? Where’s that—hang on—where’s that damn pillow thing…?” he mumbles, and you watch through watery eyes as he scrambles, clumsily grabbing the nursing pillow, adjusting it like he’s trying to solve a puzzle without the picture on the box. His movements are uncoordinated, frantic—but full of love.
Satoru kneels beside you as you try again, baby blue eyes flicking between your face and your daughter’s, willing the pieces to fall into place.
"C'mon baby girl... be nice to your momma for me, yeah?"
But when your little one latches again and you gasp, pulling her off with a pained cry, your resolve shatters.
“I—I can’t do it Satoru!” you say, brokenly. “I can't get her to latch, and when she does… it just hurts. So much.”
You feel like a failure. How can you not feed your baby?
As you look up at him through watery lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks, Satoru's expression cracks. He nods quickly, white brows furrowing as his lips press into a tight line, like he’s holding back the helplessness swelling in his chest.
“I know, baby. I know. Just… wait one sec.”
He’s on his feet in an instant, practically tripping over the edge of the rug as he rushes across the room. A moment later, he’s back—dragging a stool with one hand and clutching a spare pillow in the other. Dropping down in front of you, he crouches low, gently lifting your legs and placing them on the makeshift footrest.
“There,” he murmurs, positioning the pillow with care. “Put your feet up. Maybe if you’re more comfortable…”
Satoru fluffs the nursing pillow again with extra care, tucks the baby’s blanket around her tiny frame, then grabs your water bottle from the side table—uncapping it as he gently places it in your hand.
“C’mon momma... gotta stay hydrated.”
His voice is hushed, but purposeful. You sniffle, taking a sip of water, and he's shifting back toward the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder.
“Um… do you want a snack? I think there’s some of those lactation cookies in the kitchen…" his blue eyes flick back to you, and you see the gears turning in his head. "Or... I can make you something? Or—shit—I’ll Postmate something! What do you want? Fuck, I’ll Postmate everything if it’ll help.”
A tired, wet laugh escapes you—half amusement, half relief. “Great..." you wipe the tears from your eyes, smiling softly. "Now you’re spiraling too...”
He huffs out a sheepish breath, dragging a hand down his face as he plops beside you again. “Yeah… yeah, I am definitely spiraling.”
Reaching up, he brushes a damp strand of hair from your face, fingers grazing your temple with featherlight tenderness.
“You’re in pain...” he murmurs, blue eyes shimmering with concern. “And... I feel helpless just standing here. I can’t feed her. I can’t fix this…” he pauses, lips dropping into an exaggerated pout. “My nipples are completely useless, by the way.”
A choked, breathless laugh escapes through your tears, and his entire face softens at the sound, like it’s the only thing that’s mattered all day.
“What?” he grins. “It’s true. I’ve got nothing going on up here. Decorative at best. Yours, on the other hand—” he gestures with a flourish, “—doing heroic work. Damn sexy, too. Just sayin'.”
You roll your eyes through the blur of tears, laughing again, and lean into the warmth of his palm as it cradles your cheek.
It still hurts. You’re still exhausted, still raw, still aching in every possible way.
But in this moment—wrapped in Satoru's love, soothed by his gentle chaos and relentless care—you don’t feel quite so alone.
And somehow, with him by your side, you find the strength to try again.
bestfriend!satoru who spam comments under all your posts and makes sure to let everyone know that he’s the one who took the pic
bestfriend!satoru who doesn’t ever let your read your books. he lays his head in your lap and demands you read aloud to him.
bestfriend!satoru who’s always kissing your cheeks to say hello and bye bye. sometimes they linger a bit too long but it’s only cos he finds you so cute .
bestfriend!satoru who talks suguru’s ears off about you. every detail about your outfit, the new shade of gloss you had on today, the way your ass looked absolutely perfect in those jeans. frankly suguru is sick of him.
bestfriend!satoru who sulks as soon as he finds out you’re going on a date. he’d lie on your bed with your plushies squished in between his biceps and whine about you being too pretty for this guy.
bestfriend!satoru who waits patiently for your return and can’t help but smile at your tipsy state. clearly date didn’t go too well. he helps you undress, fingers caressing the smooth silky skin of your back as he lets your dress fall.
bestfriend!satoru who gets mad when you say you’re fine to sit in sugurus lap since there aren’t any seats left in the car. he abruptly slams the car door in sugurus face and drags you over to his side. ‘come on baby you don’t sit in anyone’s lap but mine.’ and next thing you know your snug in his lap with his bulky arms wrapped tight around your waist. ‘just to keep you safe pretty.’
bestfriend!satoru who claims ‘one kiss won’t change anything’ and then he’s pressing his plush lips to yours. his tongue making its way into your mouth as his hands pet at the small of your back. ‘course it’s fine we’re best friends’
bestfriend!satoru who towers over you and always has a spare hoodie ready for you because he knows you never wrap up warm. truthfully he adores the way you look in his clothes, his hoodie reaching mid thigh on you and still you had miles of legs left on display. he’s always saying how much he loves your legs but he doesn’t think you know to what extent. plush thighs and a round ass that he had dreamt of far too many times.
bestfriend!satoru who knows it’s sick but everytime you nap in his room he picks you up and places you in his lap. just so he can feel your soft breasts pushed against him. his hands will wander until one of them is squeezing at your ass and the other is stroking the soft skin at your thighs. ‘sorry baby you’re just so pretty when you sleep’
bestfriend!satoru who peeks at you when you’re changing in his room. baby pink underwear with a little bow dotted right at the front.
boyfriend!gojo who brags about you to anyone who’ll listen. his students—and even ijichi—know your favorite drink, your hobbies, and your favorite mochi flavor because he somehow manages to bring you up in every conversation.
boyfriend!gojo who insists he doesn’t get jealous, yet somehow always ends up with an arm slung around your shoulders whenever someone starts flirting with you. "just standing here, babe."
boyfriend!gojo who fills your camera roll with random selfies whenever you leave your phone near him. your storage is always full because of it. and if you even think about deleting them, he’ll pout for three days straight. drama queen.
boyfriend!gojo who’s cracking jokes 24/7, determined to make you laugh no matter what kind of day you’re having.
boyfriend!gojo who always notices when you’re staring at his arms. he’ll flash you that stupidly pretty grin and flex them. "see something you like?"
boyfriend!gojo who secretly loves when you wear his sunglasses. he’ll tell you they look ridiculous while silently thinking you’ve never looked cuter.
boyfriend!gojo who acts offended whenever you say he’s annoying. he’ll dramatically sigh, flop onto your lap, and mumble. "can’t believe you’d bully your own boyfriend."
a/n: first time writing headcanons… if they’re ooc, no they’re not. hope you enjoyed ♡
⊹₊。꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ you wanna try on me, nerd?
˖ 𑣲 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ma girliiies <333
SERIES
TAGLIST
virgin!nerdjo, ever the diligent student, stumbles upon tutorial on nipple sucking—so what does he do? he goes to the nearest pharmacy and buy a baby bottle to practice on. he got a baddie to please, after all. one who's already let him come inside her by the way and in record time. but also one who's experienced. and he's…well, him.
virgin!nerdjo frowns at the taste the moment he tries it, straight-up plastic. but still, he follows the video instructions step by step, phone in one hand, bottle nipple in his mouth, trying his best to mimic the motions—rewinding it over and over determined to get it right.
but of course, he's super bad at hiding stuff :( so the next time you're in his room you spot it on his desk, half-hidden behind his clutter of notebooks and cables. it's sightly chewed at the tip. and it definitely got your attention. “satoru…is this…yours?”
virgin!nerdjo goes red in seconds—like a cartoon character caught with porn. “w-what? n-no…” he tries, voice already cracking. you look at him, eyebrows lifted, tilting your head in amusement as a smirk tugs at your lips like you knowevery single embarrassing thought he's ever had.
he groans in defeat, “yes…it is.” his eyes are glued to the floor, cheeks blazing. he feels like if the ground could just swallow him whole right now, that'd be great. but for some reasons, his mouth had other plans, seems like it can't just shut up for his own good, “there was this video. a bunch of them, actually. about,um…nipple technique.” he stammers, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, eyes still avoiding yours “y'know like…oral stuff. and one of the top comments said it helps to practice on biberon because…it's kind of squishy? and it has resistance…”
you just stare at virgin!nerdjo, blank and expressionless. he feels so so dump. even dumper than when he cum in two seconds top-chrono in you. “i wanted to do it right!” he blurts, tugging his collar, desperately trying to get himself out of this. “last time i—uh—i lasted like one second. inside you. and you were so nice about it, but i wanna be better. I wanna make you feel good, not just…blow in my pants and cry.”
you walk slowly to him, eyes soft, voice lower. “so you practiced. on a baby bottle.” he nods, mortified. “and did it help?”
“no…it tasted like a melted barbie leg. i almost threw up.”
the next thing virgin!nerdjo knows, you're pushing him onto the bed as you pull off your top—he freezes in place, mouth open, glasses fogging like he's in the middle of a hentai scene he never thought he'd survive. and from where you stand between his thighs, you can see the bulge tenting his pants. poor baby probably got hard just thinking about this moment :(
virgin!nerdjo has his big hands clutching your ass, as your fingers tighten in his white soft hair—pushing his face to one of your nipple. “c'mon, nerd, show me what you've learned.”
virgin!nerdjo starts so awkwardly. there's too much tongue, too wet and sloppy—his teeth scrape a little too hard and you flinch. “ah—! ‘toru…gentle, you’re not chewing gum.” he recoils instantly, looking like he just failed a final exam. “shit! i'm sorry—i didn't mean to—fuck, i'm such an idiot, i—”
“heyy, baby," you coo, cupping his cheek, brushing his hair from his eyes. "it's okay. try again, would you?” he nods quickly at your words, blinking hard. you swear there are tears building in those pretty blue eyes but you don't have time to think about it as this time he goes slower, sucking tentatively, trying to remember the tutorial steps : tongue flat, lips soft, light suction—add it progressively. he's shaking with focus, sweat dotting his brow as if he's taking an exam worth his entire GPA.
but it seems to work because your whimpers grow louder, virgin!nerdjo's tongue turns messy, fast. he's drooling and panting as his hand clutch to your ass like he might float off the bed. every gasp you make goes straight to his cock. he grinds on your lap helplessly, every moan from you like a five-star rating on his progress. he groans, mouthing at your other nipple, “you taste so much better,” he muffle, tongue flicking on the neglected nipple.
virgin!nerdjo is leaking through his boxers, one hand going to the nipple covered in spit—massaging with his thumb, watching it shine. the other hand drops to your upper thigh, where he humps like a dog in heat.
“you're doing so good, such a good boy, aren't you?” virgin!nerdjo moans your name like a prayer, sucking harder, hips stuttering against your thigh—he's leaking all over himself, so desperate and clumsy.
your sweet virgin nerd couldn't help himself. he had to make a sticky mess in his boxer :(
you love playing with them, admiring their slenderness and how bony yet pretty they are.
they're pale and eye-catching, that's what you like to say.
but you know what you love about satoru gojo's fingers the most?
the fact that they reach every single spot deep inside your pussy that your fingers cant :(
you're a squirming mess. you can't control it, his fingers are too long!
you're sitting on his lap, legs spread, both of your feet on the outside of his thighs. you were supposed to be watching a movie together, but you made a small joke by saying something along the lines of whether his fingers can hit the spots his dick does.
one of his arms is wrapped around your stomach to keep you from moving too much, and the other is stretched between your legs.
the veins and bones in the back of his hand flex with every thrust of his fingers.
oh, he's knuckle-deep inside of you, hitting every crevice that you can't.
"gosh, satoru!" you whine, throwing your head back against his shoulder. "i– oh my god."
his long fingers are moving so slowly and sensually. he wants you to feel every bit and piece of the tips when he pushes them against those soft ridges that make you whimper and whine.
"what?" his chin rests against your shoulder before he raises his head to look at you with raised brows.
he's showing off.
"do you feel 'em? y'know, the way you feel my dick."
you nod quickly, your thighs twitching as you throb around his knuckles. "i can... i really, really can," you say, barely able to get your words out.
satoru adjusts you on his thighs, leaning up a little. "what about..." he trails off, biting his bottom lip for a moment.
that's when you moaned out, "fuck!" and your thighs tightened around his hand, but that didn't stop him.
nothing ever stops him from pleasing his lady.
his fingers slip in and out of you so perfectly, given the amount of wetness building up. you can even hear it, the soft sounds of moisture when he pumps them in and out of you.
"feel that?" he asked.
there it was again. that sensation of him jerking them against your g-spot. "you like that, huh?" he teases before planting a kiss against the nape of your neck. "makes you feel good."
you nod, unable to utter any understandable words.
it feel so, so good.
"what if i..." he slipped his unoccupied hand down from your stomach to your thighs, spreading them apart. "...do this..." he grinned, pressing his middle finger and ring against your clit.
"oh my god, satoru, please," your brows furrowed. you reached back to tangle your hands in his hair. "this– fuck, it's so... they–" you don't even know what you're saying anymore.
the pleasure is too much :(
and gojo just grins like it's funny!
like the way your body jolts and jerks against his chest and...honestly...growing boner when he's finger-fucking you with two fingers from one hand and rubbing at your swollen clit with the other two is funny.
you're squirming, wiggling, doing all you can, but your inner-self is stopping you from leaving his arms.
"you're so wet, baby," satoru says, dragging his tongue from your lower neck, right underneath your ear, where he kisses the lobe. "just for me, you know how sexy that is?"
and you moan sweetly in response, because you don't know, but you don't mind learning more :)
fwb!nerdjo has a habit of conveniently "forgetting" his lecture notes or wallet in your dorm room. Always a flimsy pretext to visit you in the late evenings, when you inevitably open the door in your most scandalous set of satin Victoria's Secret pyjamas.
fwb!nerdjo keeps mental tabs on every hobby your ADHD brain impulsively decides to pick up, nonchalantly slipping supplies he found at Michael’s into your bag when you're not looking. You find it endearing, right up until you've abandoned a quarter of those hobbies, and your cramped dorm closet is now a graveyard of never-used-before craft tools.
fwb!nerdjo insists he'd rather play Tomodachi Life solo than queue up for a Valorant match with you, one that would “tank” his rank. Truthfully, he just wants you to see how hard your in-game character has fallen for him. (He's Bronze 3 to begin with, and routinely bottom-frags in Valo)
fwb!nerdjo has such archaic taste in music that he unironically googles Spotify's Top 100 before karaoke night, just to avoid embarrassing himself in front of your "cooler" friends. It doesn't matter – his off-key singing steals the spotlight anyway.
fwb!nerdjo has a talent for making you feel stupid and horny in the same breath. When you study together, he'll attack your mistakes with the brightest highlighter he owns, only to lean in and murmur "my smart, sexy girl" against your ear the second you finally solve the statistics problem.
fwb!nerdjo wears oversized hoodies every single day, swallowing his frame whole, but he always finds a way to remind you he's built like the frat guys, if not better, conveniently stretching in front of you just long enough for you to catch his snowy happy trail and the deep cut of his V line.
fwb!nerdjo loves coding with you curled in his lap, your back against his chest, insisting you work like a weighted blanket that keeps him warm while he debugs. (You can feel his hard on, and he's called the wrong function for the tenth time now, and it's not because the code is hard)
fwb!nerdjo has a strange fascination with your makeup routine, watching you blend foundation with the quiet focus of a cat, studying the product labels like he might use them himself. When you offered, he swore he was only curious. Apparently, he just couldn't figure out how your lipstick survived a full, filthy makeout session still perfectly cherry and glossed.
fwb!nerdjo loves it when you wear his glasses while you ride him. It's absurd, honestly. He's blind without them, and your eyesight isn't much better, but he swears his glasses get him there faster. You've started noticing exactly how often he aims his release at the glasses, too, shamelessly.
fwb!nerdjo hates that you two have never put a label on this. He especially hates when his twin, Fratjo, oversteps and flirts with you in the open. And if he catches you flirting back, he takes it out on you by punishing you to come five times in a row, until you're begging him to stop.
fwb!nerdjo loves when you stumble back to his dorm room, mascara streaked down your cheeks, slurring a drunken confession of love you'll never bring up sober. He cleans up your mess, helps you change, and holds you tight until you fall asleep in his arms, thumb tracing slow circles on your cheek, already certain neither of you will mention it in the morning.
a/n: nerdjo is NOT shy i'm sorry, i don't agree with how some people write him
nerdjo is a pervy freak who just hides it under his 'holier than thou' and 'oh im so awkward and unc' persona
he needs to clean those cum stained glasses properly though eugh (he doesn't - he just wipes it over your freshly laundered clothes so you can always smell him 😼)
𓏲𝄢 Header Sources: The female manhwa character was from the manhwa called “Windbreaker” and the Satoru fanart was by @syllysmot.
❦ FRAT PRESIDENT! SATORU is campus-famous for all the wrong reasons. Loud music at ungodly hours, parties that somehow make it onto the university confession page by morning, the reputation of a shameless flirt, girls constantly hanging around him like moths to a flame but none of that matters to his best friend—you.
❦ You are the complete opposite of every girl who throws herself at FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU. While they squeeze into designer dresses and smell like expensive perfume, you show up in oversized hoodies, baggy jeans, worn sneakers with untied laces, and whichever cap you stole from his room that week. You sit with your legs spread open, curse louder than half the frat boys, and punch Satoru in the shoulder whenever he says something stupid—which is often.
❦ Unfortunately for him, FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU is painfully obvious once people start paying attention. His fraternity brothers have suffered through every stage of his pathetic crush. Suguru threatens to move out at least once a week. Sukuna keeps telling him to “confess already or shut the fuck up.” Toji laughs directly in his face whenever Satoru spirals because you hugged another guy for longer than two seconds.
❦ Even Shoko from the neighboring sorority is tired of hearing FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU talk about you like you personally invented happiness. “You know normal people just ask someone out, right?” she deadpans one night while Satoru dramatically slumps across the couch. “This is getting embarrassing to watch.”
❦ The worst part is that FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU genuinely cannot help it. He thinks you’re cooler than everyone else on campus combined. Pretty feels too small of a word for you. Cute doesn’t fit. Sexy sounds too shallow. You’re just—you. And somehow that makes him completely insane.
❦ FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU wants your legs tossed over his lap during movie nights at the frat house. Wants to hear you call him pretty in that careless voice of yours even if it makes his stomach flip every single time. Wants people to stop staring at you for too long before something territorial starts clawing at his chest. Which is ridiculous, considering you are not actually his.
❦ What FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU doesn’t know is that you figured out his crush months ago during one of the parties he hosted. You had been sitting on the kitchen counter listening to him ramble while he stood between your knees, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. The moment you stole it from him, took a drag, then lazily blew the smoke back toward his face, Satoru turned red so fast it genuinely startled you. Full-on blushing over absolutely nothing. You laughed so hard you almost fell off the counter.
❦ Ever since then, teasing FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU has become your favorite hobby. You sling an arm around his shoulders just to feel him tense up. Sometimes you lean into his space on purpose, close enough to watch his thoughts completely short-circuit, before pulling away like nothing happened. At this point, you’re just waiting to see how much longer he can survive before finally admitting he’s in love with you.
❦ But patience has never been your strong suit, and watching FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU suffer through his own pining is starting to get boring. So one night, while the backyard party is at its loudest, you grab him by the sleeve and drag him away from the beer pong table. He barely has time to complain before you shove him into the empty hallway of the frat house, back hitting the wall. “What are you doi—”
❦ The rest of FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU’s sentence dies the second you grab the front of his collar and pull him down to your height, kissing him before he can properly register what’s happening.
❦ FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU’s body goes rigid before he lets out a low, desperate sound against your mouth. Then his hands are suddenly everywhere—pulling you flush against him as he completely surrenders, kissing you back with all the pent-up feeling he has for you.
❦ FRAT PRESIDENT!SATORU thinks he might actually die from finally getting the one thing he’s wanted this entire time. His mind is completely blank except for you—your hands on him, your mouth against his, the fact that this is real and not another pathetic daydream he’ll get clowned for later. Although, he surely won’t escape his friends, who are drunkenly yelling, “FUCKING FINALLY!”
