artemis ⋆˚꩜｡

requests : open! 19 multi-fandom !! 🍰🌿

[yeschefcarm]

WELCOME ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 :

9𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 • 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤 • 𝘴𝘩𝘦/𝘩𝘦𝘳 • 𝘫𝘶𝘫𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘯, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯

𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤: 𝘋<𝘌<𝘈<𝘛<𝘏<𝘔<𝘌<𝘛<𝘈<𝘓 - 𝘗𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘬𝘰 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭 - 𝘕𝘪𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘋𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 - 𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘖𝘶𝘵 - 𝘚𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 - 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥

master list (coming soon)

MDNI • ED ACC DNI • SH ACC DNI • RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, TRANSPHOBIA DNI

[getokive]

MEET THE ✩ GETO FAMILY

Suguru is never subtle in letting you know he’s running co-parenting on his own terms.

⤷ series masterlist ┈ suguru's dad lore

CW. smau / family au / cursing / suggestive / fluff / crack / ft. shoko!

📓 Therapy session notes Therapist: Dr. Shoko Ieiri Client: Suguru Geto

1. Separation-related Obsession (while snickering) Client remains preoccupied with his ex girlfriend, though his focus is now expressed as playful attention rather than strategic manipulation.

Giving flowers without reason

Ensuring the twins relay favorable comments about him

Makes sure to put his ex girlfriend's current boyfriend through hell

GETO: The twins tell me whenever she's out for a date. Usually doesn't end well. I wonder why.

2. Flirty Interactions (with a wink) Client frequently initiates situations that are lighthearted, teasing, and overtly flirtatious. Humor and charm are tools to reconnect emotionally. The twins notice his charm but only as “papa being sweet.”

GETO: It's so entertaining whenever she's caught off guard with my advances. It's almost like a fun little game for us.

3. Identity & Playful Control (with a sheepish grin) Client enjoys the juxtaposition of serious cult leader vs. sly romantic schemer. He deliberately flirts with boundaries to test both his own influence and the reactions of his ex-girlfriend, often framing it as humor, civility, or child-centered care.

GETO: I follow the rules… mostly. But I like to see how much fun I can have bending them a little.

DIAGNOSIS:

Scheming, tempered by humor and charm

Plotting Giggle Syndrome. Client engages fully in co-parenting routines; uses shared custody as a setting for humor, affection, and subtle flirty gestures, observed and enjoyed by the twins innocently.

Strategic Mischief Disorder. Unofficial; patient insists it’s “careful planning to get her back”

Prognosis: Client demonstrates healthy capacity for connection, attachment, and playful intimacy. Likely to continue using charm as primary means of maintaining closeness.

Dr. Ieiri's Personal Notes: That Geto.. He’s aware of how audacious this is, and he’s also loving every second of it.

📼 Recorded accounts regarding your previous romantic partners

Name: ███████ Alias: GUY #01 Status: Alive Date Recorded: █████

Transcript Excerpt: Her baby daddy's fucked in the head, seriously. Who the hell sends an after sex update?!

Investigator's Note: Subject appeared visibly distressed while recounting the incident.

Name: ███████ Alias: GUY #02 Status: Alive Date Recorded: █████

Transcript Excerpt: There's something wrong with that guy, but I can never quite put my finger on it. He's weird. Like... weird in a weird way. You get what I'm saying?

Investigator's Note: Subject spent approximately seven minutes attempting to elaborate and ultimately failed to provide a more specific description.

Name: ███████ Alias: GUY #03 Status: Alive Date Recorded: █████

Transcript Excerpt: No, yeah, I think I was a rebound. Clearly, they aren't over each other and probably never will be.

Investigator's Note: Statement was followed by a prolonged sigh.

Name: ███████ Alias: GUY #04 Status: Deceased Date Recorded: █████

Record Status: Unavailable *No testimony was obtained from Subject GUY #04. Records indicate the individual passed away in 2024 following a freak accident in Shibuya.

Name: ███████ Alias: GUY #05 Status: Missing Date Recorded: █████

Record Status: Unavailable *No testimony was obtained from Subject GUY #05. Missing person reports indicate the individual was last seen in Narra in March 2023. Their whereabouts remain unknown at the time of filing.

© getokive. ┈ masterlist

₊˚: ꒰ taglist ꒱ ₊˚:

@nxati1 @luckylymarwie @sirenxiu @7thringofsaturn @skinstickets @champagnecoastbybloodorange @miimiixoxo @pequnopastel @swizzyloopy @takethiswitchhome @prome911 @sleepyyluciel @arminsxseaxshell @delululi @sparqvls @mischivana @alebrasil0101 @gmyng @gyuryu @snowstriper101 @madbehemothluminary @moonm2u @atarajanz @yuyu-po @luffystype @sleazysaltedcat @jellykuni @vampyric-puppy @ivorysheart @tlissablr @caramelflavour @suyeomiiee @prettysweet02 @pinkgirlyyysstuff @sleepymothafterdark @emluvsgetou @st31le

[paperellina]

I imagine that once you grow older with toji, have grown ass kids an all, youd end up being that kinda couple that people post online😭😭 PLEASE get what i mean guys.

I mean the people that post their parents online because theyre super cute to their audience you know?? like literally nothing has changed between you and toji since you were young adults, and its so cute like stawwwppp😭😭 im talking grumpy dad x bubbly mom 🥹🥹

toji visibly gets annoyed at his children for being a pain in his ass about you two, but youre utterly and completely energetic about it🥹🥹

somewhere theres a picture your kids took of you where tojis slumped back, scowl on his face, totally not in the mood, while you cling to his arm with this huge ass grin on your face!!

and sometimes your kids will record videos of toji reacting to things like you coming home with a new haircut🥹 LIKE YALL ARE SO IN LOVEEEE

[mrs-hatake]

The ABCs of A Domestic Life

Pairing: Toji x F!Reader.

Genre: Fluff, wholesome, alternate universe.

A/N: based on @occasional-imagines-writer domestic alphabet list

A(nniversary) - How do they celebrate anniversaries with their partner?

I think celebrating your anniversary with Toji is simple yet very meaningful.

Picture this: It’s a lovely Saturday afternoon. The sun is shining yet there’s a gentle breeze ruffling the tree leaves. 

You and Toji are sitting on a picnic blanket on a field of cool grass in your backyard. Megumi is running around with your dogs while Toji rests his head on your lap, humming in satisfaction when You scratch his scalp.

It’s these small things that mark years of a successful marriage. You, Toji, and Megumi, safe and sound in a house that protects and nurtures your family.

 And, who knows, maybe this time next year, you’ll have a new family member :)

B(athroom) - Is their shared bathroom messy or organized? 

It’s messy in an organized way. The sight of the bathroom isn’t unbearable but it can be chaotic for someone who doesn’t live with the Fushiguros. Every family member knows where their toiletries are and they’re content with how things are.

C(elebration) - What are birthdays like? Do they like hosting parties and meals?

Birthdays are all about fulfilling a family member’s wish. If they want a birthday indoors, then so be it. At an arcade? Sure, let’s go! A trip to the beach is lovely too.

You like to host parties and meals while Toji doesn’t but he loves You so much that he puts up with them. 

D(inner) - Do they eat dinner with their partner every night? Do they do most of the cooking, or at least help with it? Do they like to talk about their day or enjoy a comfortable silence?

Everyone is present during dinner time. Both You and Toji can cook. However, Toji is more skilled in grilling food than cooking actual meals but he does help You by cutting the vegetables and the meat. 

Toji is mostly silent during dinner time. He’ll listen to You and Megumi highlighting the events of your day; how You and Utahime did your nails and went shopping since there was a sale that day and Megumi complaining how Sukuna ate his favorite crayon while Yuji cried.

E(ntrance) - How do they greet their partner when they arrive home?

You’re there to hang Toji’s coat and retrieve the lunch box You’ve prepared for him this morning. 

Toji greets You with a kiss on your forehead and a tired yet gentle smile. 

F(amily) - Do they want to start a family with their partner? Any pets or children? How do they get along with their partner's relatives?

You and Toji are already married and you're both not against having your family grow. You both agreed to take things slow, however. So if you have a kid next year or in five years, it doesn’t matter. It will happen when it happens.

You and Toji have two dogs and a cat :) 

There’s a communication barrier between your family and Toji since neither speaks the other’s native language but sign language, hand gestures, and tones of voice are more than enough. 

Unless Toji gets too tired and he uses Megumi as a translator since he’s bilingual lol.

G(roceries) - Do they like to go shopping with their partner? Are they trying to sneak treats into the cart when no one is looking?

Toji hates grocery shopping but he’ll go if You ask him to. 

Actually, you’re the one sneaking treats into the carts 😭

H(ouse) - How quick do they ask to live together? Where do they and their partner move in together? Do they get a new place entirely, or does one just start living with the other?

It’s only when Toji receives blessings from your parents to marry You and only after you’re both married that you move in together. The house is humble in size yet it’s big enough to house a family of five.

I(ndoors) - What's their favorite way to spend a lazy/rainy day in with their partner?

It honestly depends on the mood?

Sometimes You’re cuddling with Toji on the couch while he watches some cheap action movie. Other times, You and Toji are sitting through an animated movie for Megumi. And a few times, Toji is scrolling through his phone while Megumi is watching his movie and You’re reading your favorite books.

If the storm is too strong to the point where it spooks Megumi, you play boardgames to distract him.

J(obs) - Do they work with their partner? If not, do they ever visit their place of work?

You’re a stay at home mom. You’ve been to Toji’s garage a few times when he forgot his bento. 

K(eepsake) - Have they decorated with/displayed any mementos from their relationship?

Yes! The fridge is covered in magnets from all the family trips and vacations you’ve been to. Some are local while others are international.

Wedding photos, bridal showers, baby showers, and family portraits are scattered all over the house.  

The plushies Toji has won for You decorate your bed. Megumi’s drawings from school are hanging in the drawing room. 

Your house is lively, warm, and well loved <3

L(aundry) - Do they help with their partner's laundry, or do they only focus on their own clothes? Do they share a closet or dresser with their partner?

Toji helps with the laundry when he can. And he does share a closet and a dresser with You :)

M(ornings) - What's it like waking up with them? Are they a morning person, or does their partner have to drag them out of bed?

Toji is not a morning person but his biological clock is. He wakes up earlier than You, even on weekends, but he does allow himself to laze in bed until he’s bored and he’s peppering your cheeks in kisses to wake You up. 

He lets You sleep in during the weekend because he knows You try to wake up a few minutes after he does to help see him off to work and help Megumi get ready for school. That’s why breakfast duty is on Toji.

N(ights) - What's their nightly routine with their partner? Do they go to bed earlier, later, or at the same time? How do they sneak into bed when they've come home late?

You and Toji go to your bedroom at the same time after tucking Megumi in bed. Toji’s already under the covers waiting for You as You finish your night routines.

Sometimes You’ll drag him into your bathroom and force him to put on a face mask sheet that he removes in five minutes because it’s too sticky and damp lol.

O(rbit) - Are they constantly at their partner's side, or do they keep to themself more?

This is a really good question.

I think You and Toji both understand that some alone time is one of the many keys to a successful and healthy relationship. Even though you’re apart for long hours during the day due to Toji’s work, there are a few nights where you’ll need to be apart for a bit to unwind and recharge. You and Toji are always waiting for each other when you’ve both had your fill and ready to spend time together.

P(resent) - Do they often bring home gifts for their partner? What do they usually buy?

Toji will bring some toys if Megumi had a good day at school or if he spotted some seasonal snacks that You enjoy.

Q(uarrel) - Do they get into fights with their partner often? Do they let it escalate or try to calm it down?

Not that often. It can get heated but it quickly dies down. Neither You nor Toji like to fight and your relationship is precious enough for you both to communicate your feelings better and reconcile.

R(esponsibility) - Do they take on very many chores? Do they complain about it? How helpful are they when it comes to housework?

S(ickness) - How do they take care of their partner when they're ill? How do they like to be taken care of when the roles are reversed?

Toji has never told You this before but he’s always sick to his stomach with worry when You’re sick. He hates seeing You so weak when you’re usually so energetic and lively. He does his utmost best to treat You while Megumi lingers in the door of your bedroom, waiting to be asked for help.

You don’t freak out when Toji gets sick. But that doesn’t mean You aren’t there to nurse him back to health either. You’re just more calm about it and maybe Toji doesn’t mind being babied from time to  time but you didn’t hear it from him!

T(elevison) - Do they watch TV with their partner regularly? What do they watch? (Morning news? Sitcoms? Dramas?) Do they ever fight over the remote?

Toji will watch a movie or a tv show with You since he knows how much You like to talk about the media You consume but he usually falls asleep halfway through since he’s so tired :(

U(nwind) - What's their favorite way to be comforted when coming home from a stressful day? How would they comfort their stressed partner?

LITTLE SPOON TOJI! LITTLE SPOON TOJI!

Lots of words of affirmation, rubbing his back, pecking the top of his head, just Toji being babied :( 

V(acation) - How often do they take trips with their partner? What is their ideal vacation?

Since Toji owns his garage and has a capable staff, he can take breaks whenever he wants. He only takes them when Megumi has a break from school though.

All of your vacation destinations are local, especially when Megumi’s breaks are long. If he has a longer holiday, an international vacation sounds nice. 

W(edding) - Are they and their partner married? Do they elope or have a more traditional wedding, if any?

Traditional marriage. No dating beforehand. Toji had to do it the old fashioned way by asking your parents for your hand in marriage. 

X - Free Space. Write whatever you want.

Toji secretly learning your native language because he wants to make You happy by talking to You in your mother tongue. It’s just so hard since Toji’s always tired after work. Being a mechanic is no easy job but he’ll get there :(

Y(earn) - How much do they miss their partner when they have to be away from home for a while? How do they react when they finally return home?

You miss Toji like crazy! 

Even though he won’t respond to your reels and tiktok videos since he’s busy fixing up cars, Toji always makes sure to FaceTime You during his lunch break. When the day’s slow, he’ll reply to your videos by adding a thumbs up reaction lol.

Z(est) - Do they find domestic life boring or exciting? Do they regret choosing this kind of life?

Toji finds domestic life peaceful and he doesn’t regret it at all.

Creating a family with You, witnessing Megumi growing up into a good boy, waiting for the arrival of your new baby, filling up your house with trinkets and pictures, are all things Toji cherishes. 

Sharing a domestic life with You is much better than the restrictive, dispassionate, and judgemental household of the Zen’in clan. 

Toji is happy.

[6x-x9]

ಇ.word count: 2.6k

ಇ.pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader

ಇ.content & warnings: kitchen mischief :: oral fem. rec :: p in v :: sex on the counter top :: breast kissing :: nipple sucking :: squirting :: c-pied :: breeding thoughts :: mention of kids :: sweet!cho :: needy for you ::

ಇ.part one.ಇ ಇ.part two.ಇ

The kitchen was warm with the scent of whatever you were cooking for dinner — garlic, onions, and spices sizzling in the pan. You stood at the counter in a loose tank top and comfy gray sweatpants, hips swaying slightly to the low music playing from your phone as you stirred the food. It was supposed to be a chill evening, just another normal night in the apartment you shared with Choso.

But Choso had been watching you for the last ten minutes.

He leaned in the doorway first, dark eyes locked on the curve of your ass in those sweatpants, his cock already half-hard and straining against his shorts, the lines between you two had been blurring more and more lately.

What started as shy glances and stolen touches had turned into him openly jerking off to your panties, crawling into your bed at night, and waking you up with his fingers between your thighs. He was still sweet — still your doting roommate who made breakfast and folded your laundry — but when the hunger hit, he was becoming shameless about it.

And right now? He was fucking starving.

Choso crossed the kitchen in silence, coming up right behind you. Without saying a word, his hands grabbed the waistband of your sweatpants and panties in one swift motion and yanked them down your thighs, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Cho —!” you gasped, nearly dropping the spatula as cool air hit your bare ass and pussy.

He dropped to his knees immediately, big hands gripping your hips and pulling your ass back toward his face. No hesitation. No asking. Just pure, shameless need.

“Couldn’t wait,” he muttered, voice already hoarse and low. “Been thinking about this pussy all day… fuck, you smell so good, baby.”

He buried his face between your thighs from behind, tongue dragging hot and heavy through your folds in one long, greedy lick, a deep groan vibrating against your cunt as he tasted you, his hands spreading your ass cheeks wider so he could push his tongue deeper.

He was so fucking horny it was almost feral —lapping at your slick entrance like a man possessed, sucking noisily on your pussy lips before flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly over your clit.

Your hands braced hard against the counter, breath hitching as pleasure shot through you. The stove was still on, food still sizzling, but Choso didn’t care, he pressed his face in harder, nose buried against your ass as he devoured you, tongue fucking into your tight hole before pulling back to suck messily on your clit.

“Choso… aaa- shit — I’m trying to cook,” you moaned, legs already shaking.

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips shiny with your arousal. “Keep cooking then,” he said breathlessly, sounding almost drunk. “I just need your cunt. Been so hard thinking about how wet you get for me…”

Then he was right back in, even more shameless than before, one of his hands slid between your thighs from the front, two thick fingers pushing into your dripping hole while his tongue worked your clit in fast, sloppy circles.

The wet, obscene sounds of him eating your pussy filled the kitchen — loud slurping, desperate moans, the squelch of his fingers pumping into your creamy cunt.

He was completely lost in it. Groaning and whimpering against your folds like your taste was the only thing keeping him alive, and his free hand gripped your ass hard, spreading you open wider as he buried his tongue as deep as it would go, fucking you with it while his fingers curled against that perfect spot inside you.

Your thighs trembled, knees threatening to buckle as he ate you out like he was starving. He didn’t care that you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, didn’t care that dinner was still cooking. The lines between roommate and lover had blurred so much that Choso no longer tried to hide how badly he needed you.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled against your slick folds, voice muffled and drunk of your cunt. “So fucking wet already… all for me.”

He sucked your clit hard, fingers thrusting faster, completely addicted to the way your cunt clenched and dripped around him and you could feel how desperate he was — his shoulders tense, heavy breathing, the way his hips twitched like he was grinding his aching cock against nothing just from the taste of you.

Dinner was definitely going to burn tonight.

And Choso couldn’t give less of a fuck.

He was completely lost between your thighs, face buried deep in your dripping cunt as he ate you like a man starved. His tongue fucking into your tight hole with wet, obscene sounds while his fingers rubbed messy circles on your swollen clit and he was so hard it hurt — his thick cock straining painfully against his shorts, leaking precum in a steady mess as he ground himself against nothing, desperate for any friction.

You tried to pretend for a little longer, one hand weakly pushing at his head while the other gripped the counter. “Cho… fuck — dinner’s gonna burn…”

But your body betrayed you, your hips kept rolling back against his tongue, chasing more of that delicious pressure... your pushing and pleadings grew weaker. Half-hearted, until finally you gave up completely.

You looked down at him — his flushed face shiny with your slick, dark brown eyes glazed with pure lust, black hair messy from your fingers and the words slipped out, needy and broken.

“Please… just fuck me.”

That was all it took.

Choso pulled back with a low, desperate groan, lips glistening. In one fluid motion he rose to his feet, towering over you as he grabbed your face and kissed you hard. The taste of your own pussy flooded your mouth as his tongue pushed past your lips, deep and claiming. His hands were everywhere — gripping your waist, sliding under your tank top to squeeze your breasts, then dropping to your thighs.

He broke the kiss only to spin you around and lift you onto the kitchen counter in one smooth move, knocking a few utensils aside with a clatter. Your sweatpants and panties were still tangled around one ankle as he spread your legs wide, stepping between them and yanking his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

His fat, flushed cock sprang out heavy and throbbing, the thick head already soaked with precum. It looked almost painfully hard, veins standing out along the thick shaft as it twitched in the air between you.

Choso didn’t waste another second.

He gripped the base of his cock and pressed the fat, leaking tip against your tight, dripping cunt, rubbing it up and down through your soaked folds, the heat of him made you whimper, your pussy clenching visibly around nothing as he coated himself in your slick.

“Fuck… you’re so wet,” he breathed, voice hoarse and shaky with need, his free hand gripped your thigh, spreading you even wider as he notched the blunt head right at your entrance. “Been aching for this pussy all day… can’t hold back anymore.”

With a deep groan, he pushed forward.

His thick cock stretched your tight cunt open slowly, inch by inch, the fat head popping inside followed by the heavy girth of his shaft. You both moaned at the same time — your walls fluttering and squeezing around the invasion as he sank deeper, filling you completely until his hips were flush against your ass and his balls pressed tight against you.

Choso’s head fell forward against your shoulder, breathing ragged. “So tight… so fucking mhm— perfect,” he whimpered, hips twitching as he fought the urge to immediately start pounding into you and his hands gripped your waist harder, fingers digging into soft flesh as he savored the way your greedy little cunt hugged every inch of him.

He kissed you again, slower this time but just as hungry, swallowing your moans while he started rolling his hips — deep, grinding thrusts that made his cock drag against every sensitive spot inside you. The counter creaked under you with every movement, your legs wrapped tight around his waist as he fucked you right there in the kitchen, dinner long forgotten on the stove.

Choso was completely gone — shameless, needy, and so fucking horny for you that nothing else mattered.

Choso held you so tightly against him, arms wrapped around your waist like he was afraid you might slip away. His chest pressed flush to yours as he fucked you deep and slow on the kitchen counter, thick cock stretching your cunt with every heavy roll of his hips, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting filled the small space — slick, filthy noises as your creamy pussy took every inch of him.

“Fuck… mngh —baby,” he whispered right against your lips, voice hoarse and trembling with raw need. “I can’t get enough of you… I think about this pussy all the time. Even when you’re just walking around the apartment… I get so hard.”

He kissed you between confessions, messy and desperate, tongues sliding together as he ground his cock deeper into your clenching heat. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed around him greedily, milking his thick length with every thrust, pulling him in like it never wanted to let go. The way you gripped him made him groan loudly into your mouth, hips stuttering for a moment before he pushed even deeper.

“I just want to hold you like this…” he confessed breathlessly, forehead pressed to yours, dark eyes half-lidded and glassy. “Keep you full of my cock all day. You feel so fucking good… so warm and tight around me.”

His arms tightened around your body, one hand sliding up your back under your tank top while the other gripped your ass, holding you steady as he fucked you with long, deep strokes. Every thrust dragged the fat head of his cock against that perfect spot inside you, making your walls spasm and gush around him.

Choso buried his face in your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin, leaving dark marks as he moaned against you. His hips never stopped moving — slow, grinding rolls that buried him to the hilt before pulling back just enough to slam in again. He was so needy, so desperate, like he couldn’t get close enough even while buried balls-deep inside you.

He tugged your tank top higher, exposing your tits, and immediately latched onto one, his mouth was hot and wet as he sucked on your nipple, tongue swirling around the stiff peak before he pulled it deeper into his mouth. He groaned loudly against your soft flesh, the vibration shooting straight to your clit as he fucked you harder, cock plunging deep into your clenching cunt.

“These tits… fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, switching to the other breast and sucking a fresh bruise into the soft curve. “So haah— pretty… I love sucking on them while I’m inside you.”

Your legs stayed locked around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as he held you tight and fucked you with pure desperation. Every deep thrust made your pussy flutter and squeeze, creamy slick dripping down his balls and onto the counter.

Choso kept whispering filthy confessions between moans, lips brushing yours, then your neck, then your tits again — completely lost in the feeling of holding you, fucking you, owning you in this moment.

He wasn’t rushing... he just wanted to stay buried inside your perfect cunt, holding you close while he sucked and kissed and confessed how badly he needed you. The dinner on the stove had long since been forgotten, the only heat in the kitchen now coming from the way your roommate fucked you like he’d die if he ever had to stop.

Choso kept fucking you with that deep, needy rhythm, arms wrapped tight around your body as he held you close on the kitchen counter, his thick cock plunged into your soaked cunt over and over, stretching you open so perfectly while your walls fluttered and clenched around him.

The wet, filthy sounds of your pussy taking every inch echoed between you — slick and creamy, dripping down his balls with every thrust.

He sucked harder on your tits, leaving fresh bruises along the soft curves as his hips snapped forward, driving himself impossibly deeper and our moans grew louder, breathier, thighs shaking around his waist as the pressure built fast and overwhelming.

Then it happened.

Your pussy suddenly gushed around his cock, squirting messily as your orgasm crashed through you. Clear fluid sprayed against his pelvis and dripped down his shaft, soaking everything between you. Choso’s eyes widened, a broken, grateful moan tearing from his throat as he watched it happen.

“Fuck — ngh-haah baby… you’re squirting,” he groaned, voice wrecked with awe. “So pretty… so fucking pretty. I always hope you’d do that for me every. Single. Time… god, look at you.”

He didn’t stop thrusting, fucking you through the squirt with deep, loving strokes, savoring every pulse and flutter of your cunt. The sight of your pussy gushing around his cock made his own orgasm rush forward fast. With a low, desperate whimper of your name, Choso buried himself to the hilt and came hard.

Thick, sappy ropes of cum flooded your cunt, filling you up until it was leaking out around his cock in warm, creamy streams. He kept rolling his hips slowly, fucking his cum deeper into you even as he softened, completely lost in the bliss of staying inside your warm, pulsing heat.

Even after you both came, he didn’t pull out, just held you tighter, rocking gently into you with slow, lazy thrusts, savoring the wet, messy slide of his cum mixing with your slick. His mouth moved lovingly over your kiss-bitten tits, sucking softly on your nipples while his eyes drifted down to your stomach.

He couldn’t stop staring — imagining your belly round and full with his child, imagining fucking you just like this for months until it happened. The thought made his cock twitch inside you again, even spent.

He was so deep in that fantasy, eyes hazy and focused on your body, that he didn’t even register you speaking at first.

“Cho… the stove,” you breathed, still dazed from your orgasm. “Baby, turn it off…”

You reached up, gently cupping his cheek with your palm, thumb brushing over his flushed skin. That soft touch finally pulled him back. His eyes refocused on your face — on how pretty you looked with swollen lips and that fond smile.

“Hm?” he blinked slowly.

“The stove,” you repeated softly, eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s burning.”

“Shit —”

Choso quickly reached over and turned the burner off. The pan was a total loss — whatever you’d been cooking was now blackened and crisped beyond saving. He winced, but you just laughed, the sound light and warm.

He carefully helped you down from the counter, his hands gentle on your waist. As your feet touched the floor, a thick glob of his cum leaked out of your pussy and slowly trickled down your inner thigh. The sight made him bite his lip, a shy little flush returning to his cheeks.

You glanced down at the mess, then back up at him with a playful grin. “What got you so lost just now, huh?”

Choso looked away, suddenly bashful again, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing,” he mumbled, voice quiet and sweet.

You raised an eyebrow, still smiling as you pulled your panties and sweatpants back up, feeling his warm cum continue to leak into the fabric. “Mhm. Well… guess I have to start dinner all over again now, thanks to you.”

He stepped closer immediately, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, already doting again.

“I’ll help,” he whispered against your skin, still shy but so obviously happy. “I’ll make it up to you, baby. Promise.”

Even as he said it, his hand drifted down to rest gently over your lower belly, that secret little fantasy still flickering behind his dark eyes.

-`♡´- MAIN MASTERLIST -`♡´- -`♡´-CHOSO'S M-LIST-`♡´-

[paperellina]

distracting toji while he's on the phone...♡ (rough!toji x sweet!fem reader)

tojis halfway through a phone call when you climb onto the couch beside him, immediately curling into his side while he keeps talking, one arm stretched across the back of the cushions behind you and his phone pressed to his ear.

its something about money, something about work, something thats got his brows pulled together while he listens with that oh so familiar rough expression.

"yeah, I heard you," he mutters "then tell 'im I aint payin extra."

meanwhile, youre completely occupied with him.

your fingers find the side of his hair first, gently combing through the shorter strands near his temple while your cheek rests against his shoulder. toji keeps listening while you continue absent mindedly playing with him. your hand drifts lower, tracing the line of his jaw before finding his collar, smoothing it down and then fiddling with it again for no reason other than you just felt like touching it.

"because that aint what we agreed on." he says into the phone, voice steady despite the fact youve now moved on to his hands.

you turn one of them over in your lap, running your thumb along old scars and rough knuckles, tracing every line in his skin with a quiet concentration while the conversation continues.

the man on the other end keeps talking, and toji tries listening.

then your fingers slide to the rolled sleeves of his top, adjusting them before trailing slowly down his forearm, following the muscle there with light touches that dont mean much to you and mean everything to him.

his jaw tightens slightly. "yeah," he mutters into the phone, "mhm"

by now youve found his hand again, interwining your fingers with his, turning them, tracing the shape of his thumb while leaning a little more heavily into his side.

youre not even looking at him, youre just happy sitting there, all soft and sweet, quietly occupying yourself with whatever part of him happens to be within your reach.

the silence on the other end of the call stretches.

"...you still there?" the guy asks.

toji blinks once, realizing he hasnt heard a godamn thing for the last minute. his eyes drop to you where youre curled against him, happily playing with his fingers while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"yeah." he says "keep talkin."

but his free hand is already settling over yours, thumb brushing across your knuckles while he looks down at you for a second longer than necessary, then he leans over and presses a rough distracted kiss against the top of your head without interrupting the call, squeezing your hand once before settling back into the couch.

toji still isnt listening to the man on the phone, not with you tucked into his side playing with his hair, his sleeves, his hands, every soft little touch way too distracting.

taglist: @@jjakeysheart @rkivesvs7 @c6choso @shea354 @kiwicherry04 @choco-chipp @tojibunnyy @tojisgdgirl @xoxocherrybabyy @dearwyn @pigtaileddolliee @tojiful @heartcandyslxt @lisabelhyhn @chaeisrichnow @chewiebee @tojisfiancee @retiredpanda @bbvvvy @princesplatano @jaehyunsleftnut @lightandfuryauthor @fysalia @alinacoke @ssrist @bl1ndv3lvet @lisa200976 @vheartsfushi @amarislovesmcdonalds @1ana22 @cherrieslovess @arcanehellokittyforlife69 @lov-3-x @str4wb3rrylife @whoiskaykay @sugurusbun @tojioppshotta @yumyumyu @yvesapple4 @733164 @peonysecret @pr1ncessthug @magicalpeenpoo @unknownowlbokutoswifeyy @eepynataly @bowiesprettieststar2 @bagleaf @lacedwithsarcasm @wholemeltt @ipoopedmypants47

© 2026 paperellina - all rights reserved. do not plagiarise, translate, or feed into any form of ai.

[limitlesslovess]

Husbandtoji X Pregnantwifereader

TW: Fluff and Fluff

wc:2.5k

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up at 3 a.m. like a switch got flipped.

One moment you're drifting in that heavy, dreamless sleep of the exhausted pregnant woman. The next, your eyes are wide open, and there's a singular thought taking up every inch of your brain:

Toji's mother's dumplings.

Not regular dumplings. Not the ones from the shop down the street with the good dipping sauce. Not the frozen bags you keep in the freezer for emergencies.

Her dumplings. The ones she makes by hand. Thin, delicate wrappers. That specific filling — pork and cabbage with a hint of ginger and something else you've never been able to identify. The way they taste when they're fresh off the pan, slightly crispy on the bottom, steaming when you bite into them.

Your mouth floods with saliva.

Your stomach growls.

And then the realization hits you like a brick.

It's 3 a.m. There is no universe in which you can have those dumplings right now. You're not even sure where Toji's mother keeps her recipe. The woman lives across town. It's dark out. Everyone's asleep. The whole world is asleep except for you and this baby who has apparently decided that her dumplings are a non-negotiable demand at an absolutely ungodly hour.

You try to reason with yourself.

You're being ridiculous. It's a craving. Pregnant women get cravings. They pass. You'll think about something else.

You don't think about something else.

You lie there for ten minutes, staring at the ceiling, your hand resting on the curve of your belly. The baby kicks, like they're reminding you. Hey. We want dumplings. Don't forget.

The kicking makes it worse.

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to disturb Toji. He's sprawled out beside you, one arm thrown over your empty pillow, his breathing deep and even. He's been working double shifts all week, coming home with dark circles under his eyes and that tired droop to his shoulders that makes your chest ache. He needs this sleep. He deserves this sleep.

You pad barefoot into the kitchen.

You drink a glass of water. Then another. You open the fridge and stare at its contents like you're hoping the dumplings will materialize. They don't. You eat a spoonful of peanut butter because you read somewhere that protein helps with cravings. It doesn't help. The peanut butter just makes you sad because it's not a dumpling.

You walk around the living room, back and forth, your hand pressed to your lower back where it's been aching for weeks. You try the bathroom. You try sitting on the couch and scrolling through your phone. Nothing works.

Every thought circles back to those dumplings.

The texture. The smell. The way Toji's mother always sets out a little dish of vinegar and chili oil because she knows you like it spicy. The way she watches you eat with this soft, pleased expression, like feeding you brings her genuine joy.

Your eyes start to burn.

"No," you whisper to yourself. "No, you are not crying over dumplings."

But you are.

By the time you give up and sink into one of the kitchen chairs, the tears are rolling down your cheeks. You're crying silently, pathetically, one hand on your belly, the other pressing against your mouth to muffle any sound. You're so tired. You're so emotional. Your body hurts. Your feet are swollen. You look like a whale and you feel like one and all you wanted was a single plate of your mother-in-law's dumplings and you can't have them because it's a completely insane time of night and you're a grown woman crying in her kitchen like a child.

You're so busy being miserably embarrassed that you don't hear the footsteps.

"Baby?"

You jump, whipping around.

Toji is standing in the kitchen doorway, shirtless, wearing only his boxers, his hair a mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. But the sleepiness is already fading, replaced by sharp alertness as he takes in the scene: you sitting at the table, face wet, shoulders shaking.

"What's wrong?" His voice goes rough, urgent. He crosses the kitchen in three long strides and crouches in front of you, one big hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing across your wet cheek. "Baby, talk to me. What happened? Is it the baby? Are you in pain?"

You shake your head, but that just makes more tears fall.

"I'm fine," you manage. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to bed."

"Bullshit." His eyes are scanning you, checking you over like he's trying to find the injury. "You're crying. That's not fine. Tell me."

You press your lips together. Your face is hot with shame. This is so stupid. This is so stupid. You're going to have to admit that you woke him up because you're crying about dumplings.

"It's nothing," you whisper. "I just — it's dumb. I'm being crazy. Pregnancy hormones. You need to sleep."

"Pretty girl."

The way he says it — soft but firm, that low voice he uses when he's not taking no for an answer — breaks something in you.

"I want your mother's dumplings!"

It comes out as a wail, barely contained, your voice cracking on the last word. You slap your hand over your mouth immediately, eyes wide, but it's too late. It's out there. He knows.

You start crying harder.

"I'm sorry," you sob. "I know it's insane. I know it's three in the morning. I tried to ignore it, I really did, I drank water and I walked around and I tried to think about something else but I can't and I know there's no way to get them and I'm so sorry I woke you up over something so stupid — "

"Mom's dumplings?"

He says it so flat that you freeze.

You nod, sniffling miserably.

Toji stares at you for a long moment. His expression is unreadable. You brace yourself for him to tell you that you're being ridiculous. That it's 3 a.m. That he needs to sleep. That you'll get over it.

He gets up.

You watch him walk out of the kitchen. For a second, you think he's going back to bed, and the disappointment hits you so hard it makes your chest ache.

Then you hear him in the bedroom. The rustle of fabric. The jingle of keys.

"What are you doing?" you call out, your voice wobbly.

He appears again in the kitchen doorway, now wearing a pair of sweatpants and pulling on a jacket. His keys are in his hand. His face is set with that quiet, determined expression you know well — the one he gets when he's going to do something and nothing you say will stop him.

"Toji, no." You're already standing, waddling toward him. "It's fine. Really. It's three in the morning, you can't drive across town for dumplings — "

"Watch me."

"I'll get over it," you insist, reaching for his arm. "Please. Go back to sleep. I'll drink some tea. I'll — "

He stops, turns, and looks at you. And when his hand comes up to cup your face again, it's so gentle it makes your bottom lip tremble.

"I'll be back," he says. "Don't stay up."

And then he's gone.

You hear the front door close. The lock clicks. A minute later, the distant sound of his truck engine starting up in the driveway.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, still crying, one hand pressed to your chest, not sure whether to laugh or sob.

---

Toji's mother lives in the old neighborhood, about twenty minutes away when traffic is normal. At 3 a.m., it's closer to fifteen. The streets are empty, the stoplights blinking yellow, the city settled into that dead quiet that only exists in the deepest part of night.

He pulls up in front of his childhood home at 3:17 a.m.

The lights are on in the kitchen.

He doesn't question it. His mother has always been an insomniac, one of those people who can never quite find the off switch in her brain. When he was a kid, he'd find her at the kitchen table at all hours, drinking tea and reading old magazines, the TV muted in the background.

He knocks.

The door opens after a few seconds. His mother blinks at him through the screen door, a faded floral robe wrapped around her thin frame, her silver-streaked hair pulled back in a loose bun.

She looks at him — at her grown son standing on her porch in sweatpants at three in the morning — and doesn't ask if something's wrong. She just tilts her head.

"What happened?"

Toji rubs the back of his neck. He's not good at this. He's never been good at talking about feelings, at admitting when he needs something, at being anything other than self-sufficient and stubborn.

"She wants your dumplings."

There's a beat of silence.

His mother's eyebrows go up. Then the corner of her mouth twitches.

"The girl's craving my dumplings at three in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"And you drove across town to get them?"

"Yeah."

She stares at him for another beat. And then she smiles. A real smile, warm and knowing, the kind she gives him when he does something that reminds her he actually has a heart under all that gruff exterior.

"Well," she says, pushing the screen door open. "Don't just stand there. Come help me chop cabbage."

---

The kitchen smells like home.

Toji stands at the counter, sleeves rolled up, knife in hand, while his mother pulls ingredients from the fridge. Flour. Pork. Cabbage. Ginger. Green onions. A bottle of soy sauce.

"You got her eating well, I hope?" his mother asks, not looking up from where she's mixing the dough.

"Yeah."

"More than convenience store food? She looks too thin."

"She eats fine, Ma."

"She better. She's carrying my grandchild." She shoots him a look. "I'll know if you're slacking."

Toji grunts, focusing on the cabbage. He's never been a good cook, but he knows how to follow instructions, and his mother's voice guides him through it — chop finer, don't press the water out too hard, you need more ginger, no that's too much ginger, let me do it.

They fall into a rhythm. The familiar chaos of their kitchen. His mother muttering under her breath as she rolls out wrappers with practiced ease, her small hands moving fast. Toji at the stove, heating oil in the pan, the sizzle loud in the quiet house.

"How far along is she now?" his mother asks.

"Eight months."

"Eight months." She shakes her head, a soft sound escaping her. "I remember being eight months pregnant with you. I would've killed a man for a bowl of my mother's ramen at three in the morning."

Toji looks at her.

"I'm serious," she says. "Pregnancy cravings don't care about the time of day. They don't care what's reasonable. They just are. Your wife's not crazy. She's pregnant."

"I know she's not crazy."

"Good." She presses a wrapper into his hands. "Here. Fold."

He fumbles through it, his big fingers clumsy with the delicate dough. His mother watches, bites her lip to keep from laughing, and eventually takes over with a put-upon sigh.

"Hopeless," she mutters.

"Worth a shot."

She laughs. It's a good sound. Rare, these days. She's always been proud of him, but she doesn't show it often — not with words, anyway. But the way she's making these dumplings at 3 a.m., the way she didn't hesitate when he showed up at her door, says everything.

"You love her," his mother says quietly. It's not a question.

Toji doesn't answer. He doesn't have to.

"Good," his mother says again, softer this time. "She's good for you."

---

At home, you're pacing.

It's been over an hour. You've convinced yourself three separate times that Toji is not actually going to his mother's house. He probably drove around the block, cooled off, and is sleeping on the couch right now. Or he got there, realized how insane this is, and turned around. Or he's dead in a ditch because you sent your husband out into the world at three in the morning for dumplings and something horrible has happened —

The front door opens.

You whip around so fast your back twinges.

Toji walks in, looking exhausted in the dim light, his jacket dusted with the cold air from outside. He's carrying something.

A container.

A plastic takeout container, the kind you use for leftovers, and through the translucent lid you can see them.

Dumplings.

Steam is fogging the inside of the container. They're fresh.

Your hand flies to your mouth.

"Don't," Toji says, pointing at you with his free hand. "Don't start crying again. I'm not doing this twice."

You're already crying.

"I said don't — "

"She made them," you whisper, your voice breaking. "Your mother made them. At three in the morning. For me."

Toji sighs, long and heavy, but there's no real annoyance in it. He walks over to the table and sets the container down, then pulls out a chair for you.

"Sit. Eat. And then you're going back to bed, because I'm exhausted and you need sleep."

You sit. Your hands are shaking when you open the container. The smell hits you — that warm, savory, perfect smell — and you think you might actually die of happiness. The dumplings are arranged in neat rows, slightly golden on the bottom, still warm. There's a tiny container of dipping sauce tucked in beside them. Soy sauce, vinegar, a swirl of chili oil.

Your mother-in-law packed dipping sauce.

You start crying again.

Toji drops into the chair beside you, letting his head fall back, eyes already closing. "You're hopeless."

"I love your mother," you say, picking up a dumpling with reverent fingers. "I love you. I love this dumpling."

"Eat your dumpling, ma."

You take a bite.

The wrapper gives way with that perfect chew. The filling is hot, savory, packed with ginger and pork and cabbage and that thing you can never identify. It's exactly what you wanted. It's everything you wanted. You make a sound that's embarrassingly close to a moan.

Toji cracks one eye open. Sees you eating. Sees the expression on your face — pure, unguarded happiness.

The corner of his mouth lifts.

He doesn't say anything. He just sits there, half-asleep, his hand coming to rest on your knee under the table, thumb rubbing a slow circle into the fabric of your pajama pants.

You eat another dumpling. Then another. The baby kicks, like they're approving.

And when you look over at Toji, his eyes are fully closed now, his breathing evening out, his hand still warm on your knee.

He drove across town in the middle of the night for you. His mother made you dumplings at 3 a.m. because you asked.

You take another bite, smiling through the last of your tears, and press your hand over his on your knee.

"Thank you," you whisper.

He doesn't answer. He's already asleep.

But his fingers tighten on your knee, just slightly, before they go slack.

And that's enough.

[satorusdreamer]

Forever? Forever.

Synopsis: Where not even death can do you part.

Pairing: Husband!Gojo x deceased wife!reader

CW: SFW, fluff, angst and grief, mentions of character death, alternating POVs, Megumi cameo WC: 2.5k

Divider by @dollywons

There’s a small breeze that blows through the meadow, ruffling his white hair slightly as he looks at you. The two of you are walking, the tall grass brushing against his ankles as he follows you wherever you go—just like he promised years ago.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before turning towards him with a smile so bright it rivals the sun. His heart rate picks up, blood pumping a little faster through his veins as he just takes you in for a moment. The sundress flutters around you as some of your hair moves with the wind.

Your smile hasn’t changed much since the first time he saw you over twenty years ago, the only difference being the slight smile lines around your mouth, ones you’ve gotten from him.

The necklace softly moves around your chest—a small heart pendant hanging on your sternum. Inside is a picture of the three of you, all smiling at the camera—well, your son is scowling, but that was to be expected.

He automatically closes the distance between the two of you, head tilting down just slightly to take you in even better. A small smile forms on your face as you look up at him, up at the man who you’ve once said ‘I do’ to.

‘Til death do us part’

Only, death didn’t part the two of you.

Here the two of you are, standing in a field of wildflowers that gently move in the breeze, one pair of feet trampling the long grass as the other leaves everything in tact. Your footsteps careful, constantly avoiding the pretty flowers even though you wouldn’t trample them beneath the soles of your feet anyway.

It’s so you that it makes his chest hurt a bit. His heart beats against its cage, the same way it has been doing ever since he first saw you.

Back when he entered high school, you were there right alongside him. His pretty classmate that would grow up to be his wife. Some things were inevitable, this being one of them—the two of you getting married.

You were wearing a small sundress back when you had your first date with him, almost the same one you’re wearing right now, and he’d been so stunned, jaw slack and eyes wide, that you couldn’t help but giggle, all your nerves calming down immediately.

He’d forgone his simple t-shirt, trading it for a linen shirt and brown pants. It felt foreign, seeing the normally confident boy so starstruck. That’s when you knew you would love this boy forever. And you did. Though you kind of wish your forever would take a little longer than it did.

Yes, you can still converse with your husband, still see the way he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon, but you can’t touch him anymore. Your hand stopping mere millimeters from his skin, the warmth refusing to seep through your skin.

As upsetting as it is, at least you know your forever actually means forever. So does his. Choosing to stay with you despite not being able to touch you, though he still tries. Tried to manipulate his infinity in a way that he could touch you, but even The Strongest can’t do the impossible.

Well, except for seeing his dead wife, apparently.

The moment he got the phone call, he teleported to Shoko’s infirmary, frantically looking around to see you. There was a part of him that didn’t want to believe the news, clinging to the fact that this had to be some sort of cruel prank.

‘Til death do us part.’

He didn’t think that death would come so early for either of you, having pictured growing old with you. His white hair graying, skin wrinkling as the new generation would take over, relieving his burden from being The Strongest. Your (biological) kids running around in the backyard in the new house the two of you had freshly renovated.

But the look Shoko gave him told him enough. It wasn’t some sort of cruel prank, just faith messing with him once more.

Still, he clung to the fact that Yuji came back to life once—granted it was because Sukuna brought him back to life with a deal, but those were semantics his brain didn’t bother with—so surely you could do that as well. Hell, he’d been on the brink of death once, so maybe that was it, you were just on the brink of death.

That’s when he saw the white tarp on the cot, covering a body that was all too familiar to him. Even under the white sheet, he could make out the curves he spent years worshiping: the gentle slope of your nose, a stand of your hair peeking out from under it.

His knees buckled, thumping on the ground with such force, everything in the room shook for a second. Shoko came up to him, her hand coming down to his shoulder, but it stopped right before she could touch him. Infinity flared up immediately, preventing her from coming closer to him, pushing away everything that wasn’t you.

Shoko was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear anything she was saying, her voice muffled almost like Infinity filtered out her voice, preventing it from reaching him. His hands shook as he brought one of them up to the cot, trembling fingers closing around your hand over the white sheet, crinkling under his grip.

A sob tore through his chest, tears finally cascading down his cheeks. His technique surging to life without calling for it, blue energy crackling around him, Infinity surging stronger and stronger, until one of the light bulbs above cracked under the pressure. The broken glass slid down, clinking onto the white tiles below, away from you two.

Because despite not being in control over his Infinity nor Blue, he would always protect you—his Infinity wrapping around your silhouette like a blanket, keeping the two of you in a small, private bubble, away from the world.

More light bulbs cracked under pressure, cots and other medical equipment getting shoved to the walls as he sobbed his heart out.

“I’m sorry,” the whisper was so faint, he thought it came out of his own mouth—apologising for letting you get hurt while he was away, breaking his promise to always protect you from evil, even if you told him you could protect yourself. “I didn’t think our story would end so soon.”

At that, his head snapped up, eyes wide. He knew that wasn’t him, no, he would recognise his wife’s voice anywhere. So he lifted the tarp, but was met by a sight he’d have trouble scrubbing from his memory for months to come. Your skin was still pale, mouth and eyes still closed. No sign of life. Another sob wracked through him.

“Oh Satoru…”

That very much came from behind him, a voice so somber he couldn’t help but turn around. There you were, looking down at him with sadness in your eyes, hand hovering just above his head; not fully touching him.

He gasped so loud, it had literally startled Shoko who was standing outside the room, but couldn’t get in due to Infinity surging. “Sweetheart.”

That was the day Gojo Satoru found out he could see ghosts. While non-sorcerer ghosts were harder to detect, having less Cursed Energy and no Cursed Technique, you were fully visible to him whenever he didn’t have his blindfold on.

Which is why people see him walk around without his usual blindfold, the fabric no longer obstructing his eyes. You of course scolded him for never putting it on during the day, because he got headaches so great, his pretty blue eyes swelled up with tears, but even then he refused to let you out of his sight.

His pretty wife that had been taken away from him too soon.

In a way he always cursed his own eyes for seeing too much, giving him too much of a headache on a daily basis. But right now, walking through this pretty meadow with his wife, he couldn’t be more happy about them.

The golden sun rays illuminate your skin in a gentle golden light, the pendant on your neck glinting as well as the pretty ring he’s given you almost fifteen years ago, a matching one resting around his own finger.

Beautiful. That’s all he can think of. How even in death you’re still as beautiful as the day he’s met you.

There’s a small glint in your eye as your lips curl up in a small, devious smile—one that already has him suspicious of your next move. Before he can even open his mouth, you turn around and sprint away from him, your pretty dress fluttering in the wind around you, hair whipping around your face as a small laugh tumbles out of you.

The sound finally has him moving, a small ‘Hey!’ falling from his lips as he runs after you—not bothering to use any Cursed Energy or his Blue to enhance his speed, just his long legs sprinting after you—grass snapping under his boots.

And what a silly sight it is, seeing The Strongest run after something no one else can see. That’s all Megumi can think about, seeing Satoru Gojo run after air with a smile so big he has to wonder if his cheeks are going to fall off.

In a way he’s glad, of course. Megumi wasn’t there when you two met, but you have been there alongside Gojo, taking care of him and his sister ever since that faithful day twenty years ago.

How time flies.

Gojo was busy, very busy, even as a teenager. That didn’t matter much to the higher ups—the fact that Gojo was a teenager—when they sent him out on all of these missions purely because he was supposed to be The Strongest.

Which meant Gojo didn’t have much time to take care of Megumi and Tsumiki, most often leaving them alone.

That’s where you came into play.

As Gojo’s long-term girlfriend, you often came by Megumi’s place to check in on the kids; making sure they had enough to eat for the week, making dinner most of the nights as well as taking them to school whenever you could.

Of course you weren’t perfect, no one is, but you took the time to take care of two strange kids like they were your own—like you weren’t still a teenager yourself.

You couldn’t always be there with them, having to go on your own missions or just taking some time away so you and Gojo could have some alone time, but you showed up more often than not.

There was a slight shift in the dynamic when you and Gojo got married at only twenty-one years old. Tsumiki was your flower girl while Megumi was a very grumpy tiny groomsman. But even as a grumpy kid, he couldn’t deny how happy it made him to see you and Gojo so happy.

After getting wed, the four of you moved into a new house—yes, you had asked Gojo to bring the kids because you were taking care of them most of the time anyway, and of course your husband gave in to your every whim.

Whipped.

You had The Strongest wrapped around your finger, and you knew it.

Somewhere around age ten Megumi had started calling you ‘Mom’. At first it was just a slip of the tongue, a small mumble when you had been cooking dinner for the family, even taking in consideration that the Demon Dogs might’ve wanted something to eat instead of ‘Yucky curses’ for once.

Megumi had been too embarrassed back then, trying to backtrack and just call you by your name—it almost felt like calling your teacher mom or dad—but you had merely hummed and asked him if he needed anything. Not making a big deal of it, not teasing him or even asking him to repeat it. No, you just acted like this was the most normal thing there was.

And that’s how he began calling you ‘Mom’.

But seeing Gojo run around the meadow, chasing after nothing but air, makes his heart constrict a little. Because why is Gojo the only one lucky enough to still see and talk to you?

At first everyone thought he had gone mental, talking about you—to you—like you were still there, smiling at mere air as if you were standing there. Hell, there were even times where he would randomly give a small kiss to nothing at all and chuckle afterward.

Yeah, that was a sight to see.

People had begged him to see someone to talk to, even if it was just confiding in any of them. But Gojo had vehemently tried to tell everyone you were still there, they just couldn’t see you any longer.

Ghosts. It was never something Megumi believed in, but as more time passed, him getting out of his house more often, he started to realise that Gojo might not be as crazy as everyone thought he was.

There were… things Gojo knew that he shouldn’t have known. And of course you could’ve confided in your husband, told him about all these small things that happened between you and Megumi, but you just weren’t like that. If Megumi asked you to keep something between the two of you, you would.

So, maybe Gojo wasn’t as crazy, as grief-stricken as they thought. No, you were still there, just in a plane of existence only The Strongest could see with his special eyes. Even his Demon Dog couldn’t sense you any longer, which absolutely sucked.

It grieved, just like everyone else. Everyone except for Gojo Satoru, who could still see his wife walk around as if she were alive.

The dynamic was weird. While being a sorcerer meant you could lose your life at any given moment, it still didn’t take away from the fact that you were his mother. The one who has always taken care of him every since he was younger.

So Megumi grieved, much longer than he did anyone else. At the same time, Gojo just pranced around, wide smile on his face while he talked to air, fingers brushing against nothing as he whispered something, bending down to your height.

It had made Megumi angry—angry at the fact that Gojo wouldn’t let him grieve in the way he needed, because there would always be some sort of quip coming from Gojo’s mouth that didn’t sound anything like the man himself, but rather like you were telling him something.

Hurt. Megumi felt hurt that you wouldn’t be able to talk to him anymore, only getting to convey messages through your husband. The same husband that’s chasing after his wife, sun casting the world in a shade of gold.

But it also makes him so incredibly happy that you’re at least still somewhat here, even if he couldn’t look at you anymore.

So he walks towards Gojo, his Demon Dog by his side, as he goes to say hi—to the both of you.

A/N: Gojo can see ghosts with his Six Eyes and you cannot convince me otherwise.

tags: @yoonsucks @etheralpanic @lilithkleia @dollieadored @starsforvia @iinvivible @saniiaa @marisacosm @tojiphoria @yorikae @yagirljelliedkiki @pingui0i @serpenttine @seueuq @mousedit @sugurusbadhabit @cactusvolumes @secretsofchance @lilslovesaizawa @satorusdollie @kcandy-flosz @seueuq @sunnyfieldsz @litlili127

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[ryomenlettuce]

hide the razor 𓇼 toji x fem!reader fluff fic ꫂ᭪݁ toji has stubble on his face and you love it

you were laying in bed, wrapped in fluffy blankets and waiting for toji to come to bed with you.

he popped his head out of the master bathroom, giving you a sweet smile. he had a towel around his neck, only wearing his boxers. he set the towel on the counter in the restroom before walking over to you.

he immediately laid himself on top of you and started play fighting with you. he grabbed your wrists and held you down, counting from ten to one like they do in wrestling. he let your wrists go once he got to one, cupping your cheeks instead.

he pressed a big kiss on your lips. you could feel him smile, but thats not all you felt.

you felt something scratch your chin.

you pulled away from him, looking at his cheeks with shock.

toji had stubble.

he never let his stubble grow out for some reason. you never knew why, but you had never seen it.

you looked at him with shock.

"what?" he asked with confusion.

you cupped his cheeks, staring at the stubble as if it was some kind of phenomenon.

it kind of was.

you brushed your thumb over the prickly hair, staring at the handsome man hovering over you.

toji realized what you were looking at and pulled away from your touch. he reached his hand up to touch the prickle of his cheeks.

"oh, i haven't shaved yet, been feeling lazy. i shave it tomo-"

"don't shave it!" you cut him off immediately. you shook your head and cupped his cheeks again.

"don't shave it." you repeated again.

"why?" he asked, touching the hairs on his cheek. he never expected you to react like this over something so small like stubble.

"just don't. if you do, im never kissing you again."

toji nearly gasped. he squeezed your cheeks together and leaned in close. "you wouldn't."

you tried to smile but he was squeezing your cheeks too hard. you just hummed and pulled him in for another kiss.

he tilted his head just enough so his chin could rub against yours, making you squeal when the stubble scratched your chin. he laughed against your mouth, not believing you could get so flustered over prickles of hair.

this been in the drafts since april 23... goodness taglist : @rocky-save-grace @gilwm @akaashiit @palanggaaa @showhay @m4aimm @icebearcucumber

[ryomenlettuce]

hide the razor 𓇼 toji x fem!reader fluff fic ꫂ᭪݁ toji has stubble on his face and you love it

you were laying in bed, wrapped in fluffy blankets and waiting for toji to come to bed with you.

he popped his head out of the master bathroom, giving you a sweet smile. he had a towel around his neck, only wearing his boxers. he set the towel on the counter in the restroom before walking over to you.

he immediately laid himself on top of you and started play fighting with you. he grabbed your wrists and held you down, counting from ten to one like they do in wrestling. he let your wrists go once he got to one, cupping your cheeks instead.

he pressed a big kiss on your lips. you could feel him smile, but thats not all you felt.

you felt something scratch your chin.

you pulled away from him, looking at his cheeks with shock.

toji had stubble.

he never let his stubble grow out for some reason. you never knew why, but you had never seen it.

you looked at him with shock.

"what?" he asked with confusion.

you cupped his cheeks, staring at the stubble as if it was some kind of phenomenon.

it kind of was.

you brushed your thumb over the prickly hair, staring at the handsome man hovering over you.

toji realized what you were looking at and pulled away from your touch. he reached his hand up to touch the prickle of his cheeks.

"oh, i haven't shaved yet, been feeling lazy. i shave it tomo-"

"don't shave it!" you cut him off immediately. you shook your head and cupped his cheeks again.

"don't shave it." you repeated again.

"why?" he asked, touching the hairs on his cheek. he never expected you to react like this over something so small like stubble.

"just don't. if you do, im never kissing you again."

toji nearly gasped. he squeezed your cheeks together and leaned in close. "you wouldn't."

you tried to smile but he was squeezing your cheeks too hard. you just hummed and pulled him in for another kiss.

he tilted his head just enough so his chin could rub against yours, making you squeal when the stubble scratched your chin. he laughed against your mouth, not believing you could get so flustered over prickles of hair.

this been in the drafts since april 23... goodness taglist : @rocky-save-grace @gilwm @akaashiit @palanggaaa @showhay @m4aimm @icebearcucumber

[vhyunjinverse]

𐙚 — Fix your Attitude C.K

𐙚 plug!choso x fem!reader | divider by @/cursed-carmine | mdni | m.list | art by @/_7undeed on twt

𐙚 “The fuck is your problem?!” “YOU’RE my problem!”After not seeing your plug Choso for a week, you give him attitude that he has no problem fixing for you.

It wasn’t often that you argued with 𐙚 plug!Choso. In fact, you didn’t really argue at all. So when you came over as you usually did, you were quiet while he fixed the blunt up in the pretty pink papers he gets just for you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, how’s school?” He coughs, eyes flickering up to your face just to see you not even looking at him. Instead you were tracing circles on your thighs. He watched you shrug, which takes him back- the fuck?

“It’s been alright. The usual.”

Even your tone was off. Choso makes a face but he stares back down at the tray. Pink, hello kitty themed. The grinder he used was one he ordered just for you, pink and also hello kitty themed. Hell- he had a whole fucking set just for you when you came to smoke with him. Everytime was fine except now.

“…Alright cool.” He murmurs, “How many you wanna smoke today?”

“None. I want my stuff to go.” Your arms folded over your chest. Choso’s tongue licks alongside the paper before rolling, and he laughs. You look over at him- finally look at him. The whole set up pink, contrasting with his grunge-like attire.“What’s funny?”

“You’re funny.” He sets the tray down, inspecting the pink joint before grabbing his lighter and lighting the end. You watch as he his tips back, arm outstretched on the back of the couch as his body relaxes into the furniture. The end of the blunt entering his pierced lips before he inhales deeply, blowing the smoke out. “…I’m not doing that.” He leans back up, eyes dead locked on yours.

He watches the watch your brow twitches with that cute pout on your lips. “Cho, I’m serious.”

“So am I, princess.”

“I want my shit to go.”

“Now she’s cursing at me.” His eyes widen, smile on his face growing. Usually you bossed Choso around, he liked it, but he could tell something was bothering you and that this wasn’t an act. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” You smack your lips before rolling your eyes and getting up.

“If you’re not gonna do your job then I’ll go see what Sukuna’s sellin-“

I’m sorry? He pauses, the smile fading from his face.

“…Sit down, princess.” It wasn’t often Choso talked to you like that either. He spoiled you too much. He was always soft and gentle with you, hurting you was something he never wanted to do. His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you froze for a second before huffing and turning away from him.

Choso took another drag of the blunt, “Not gonna tell you again.”

“Then don’t.” And you had a smart ass mouth. “Stop acting like you give a fuck.”

“The fuck is your problem?!” Choso shouts. You flinch for a second before giving him the middle finger. He’s never raised his voice at you…well, in a serious manner, only at others who really, really got on his nerves. You’ve seen every side of Choso and how he was with others, not you.

But Choso knew you well, and he knows that you don’t like being yelled at. “You’re my problem!” You grab your bag, shuffling to put on your shoes.

“Princess-“

“Shut up Choso!” You bolt for the door, slamming it shut as you left. Choso stares at it for just a second in disbelief, playing the words back in his mind before he followed you out. You haven’t even left from in front of his door before he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in (and locking it).

He presses you up against the door, bros furrowed as he stared at you- down at you. “You wanna repeat what you said?” He questions. His breath fanned over your face. His face slightly red, you could hear the panic in his heart beat. He held your hands firmly but not tightly. You could definitely break free from his grasp. If you wanted to that is.

You could also tell that he was worked up by the way he panted. “Repeat what you said to me.” A demand this time.

“…Shut u-“

“Before that.”

“I…I’m gonna go see what Sukuna’s selling.” You swallow back a whimper. You watch as his lips twitch before he lets out a breath. He looks away for a second, in disbelief. Why would you, of all people on campus? Of anyone even remotely close in what Choso sold- fucking Ryomen Sukuna?

“Yeah?” The tone in his voice made your heart thump against your chest. You hadn’t heard it in a while. Choso’s face gets closer to yours, down by your neck. You didn’t even realize how hard you were breathing, his voice deep in your ear, “You gonna go fuck him too?”

“No-“

“That what you did while I was gone? Is that why you’re acting like a damn brat right now?” And you shudder, thighs squeezing together. “I leave for a week and suddenly you wanna have an attitude with me.”

“N-No- s’nothing like that.” His lips graze your neck, your eyes fluttering shut as you let out a small sigh of relief at his lips on you. He licked the spot, teeth grazing it before sucking. “Cho-“ You whine.

“Nuh uh, tell me you’re gonna go see Sukuna again.” Choso takes the skin between his teeth, humming as you squirmed. His lips felt gentle on your skin even when he teased you. He kisses the spot once more before letting your hands go, his eyes filled with annoyance, but Choso wasn’t one to dwell on things for too long, and he surely didn’t want to be upset with you.

Instead, he waves you off, turning away from you to sit back down in his spot on the couch. You watch him pick back up the neglected blunt and light it back up. You swallowed thickly, your breath heavy as you just…watched. The spot on your neck throbbed, knowing he left a hickey there that he’d usually get yelled at for.

His tired eyes drag over to you, low as he blew out smoke. “Go on, Y/N.” It’s been so long since Choso’s called you your actual name. The feeling cold in your chest as you bit your lip. You didn’t think he’d get that upset. “I’m not gonna charge you for anything since you didn’t smoke… If that’s all you can leave.”

Everyone knew that Choso and Sukuna were related in some way, but they didn’t like each other for plenty reasons, one being how they were technically in competition with each other.

You hadn’t see Choso in a week. Maybe your reaction was a bit petty over a man that wasn’t your boyfriend. A man who spoiled you with anything you asked for like it was nothing. Someone who smoked and fucked you and took you out afterwards. You talked everyday, but for a week the contact was silent.

Standing by the door, you found yourself picking at your nails. Choso was there when you got them done. He watches you before sighing, leaning back into the cushion. “Cmere.” Voice soft, gentle yet still laced with annoyance. He pats his leg, and you shuffle to take your shoes back off, walking back over to the couch, the rug soft beneath your feet.

“Take the blunt.” His hands rub over the curve of your hip. the moment you straddled him. You hold the joint between your fingers, knowing that Choso was the man you’d only ever buy from- except your services were free.

He watches your gloss covered lips take the pink blunt between them. Your eyes close instantly, the warmth clouding your lungs. Your body relaxes into his grasp like it always did. “That’s it..” He hums, scooting you up closer until he could feel the softness of your breast against his chest. His fingers graze your chin before his lips are on yours, smoke traveling from your mouth to his. You whine softly as he bites down on your lip. The kiss greedy- hungry. You missed him. He missed you. Choso lets out a grunt, his hand finding the back of your neck to pull you in deeper. The metal on his tongue flicking against the roof of your mouth.

Choso swallowed all of your whimpers, your clothed cunt rubbing against the fabric of his pants. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing until a loud smack ! has you pulling back and flinching with a yelp. “Cho-“

“You still mad at me?”

You bite down on your lip, looking down at his chest. “..Yeah.”

Without a word, Choso scoops you up into his arms, holding your legs around his waist while you held on tight- wrapping your arms should his shoulder. “What are you doing- put me down Choso!” You huff.

The man says nothing, carrying you all the way to his bedroom. You’re immediately hit with the scent of soft vanilla, the room a mixture of him and the random things you had over- a hello kitty plush on his bed (the only plush on his bed), little figurines sitting on his desk that you’d got together on various trips, your strawberry lipgloss (that you thought you’d lost) sitting right there on his nightstand. He lays you down on the bed, body hovering over you.

His fingers trail up your thighs up to the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down without a word, kissing moving down your body. Your panties were soaked, and you felt shy in his arms. “…Say something.” You try to close your legs but Choso shakes his head, prying them open wider. With a soft hum he pins your arms above your head with one of his hands, the other slipping into your panties.

“Need to fix this attitude of yours.” Choso kisses your forehead. His finger circles your wet clit as you whine, gasping softly. You stare up at him, the wrinkle between his brow deepening as he flicked your pearl faster. Taking his lip between his teeth, he adds another finger. “Cho…” You whimper, your breath picking up as your back arched slightly, legs opening wider. More, you wanted more.

“Feel good?” His fingers dip down between your slick folds, dragging the slippery mess up to your clit. “Y-Yes—!” You moan, your hands twitching in his grasp. “Yeah?” He whispers, your legs twitching. Slippery fingers pressed down on your clit.

“So wet for me..” Choso groans, his fingers rubbing faster. Your breath hitches, mouth falling open as another moan passes your lips. Your hips start sputtering, rubbing into the hand for friction. “M-Mhm- fuck— fuck Cho g-gonna cum.” Your high so close you could taste it, eyes closing as your body relaxed in his grasp. His touched that you longed for and it had only been a week. The heat building into your lower stomach as you whimper, awaiting the orgasm that never came.

Your eyes opened immediately. Choso pulls his fingers out of your panties, taking them into his mouth with a small groan. “Cho.“ You frown, eyes staring wide up at him. Watching the fingers in his mouth go right back to those panties.

“Yes princess?” He traces your clit teasingly through the fabric. Down to that waiting hole of yours, leaking so much that you couldn’t help the small noises you were making. “I-I didn’t cum.”

“I know.” He grabs hold of the wet fabric, tugging them to the side until a loud riiiiiip ! of the material shouts throughout the room. “My panties!— The fuck Choso-” Your hands tugging to be freed while you glared up at him.

“Shut up, I’ll buy you some more.” He huffs.

Choso was messing with you right? Trying to scare you from going to see Sukuna. It made perfect sense. Is that why he didn’t let you cum? …It had to be….

It was torturous. The way your legs shook, his palm rubbing against your clit while three fingers thrusted deeply inside of you- so deep they touched that pretty spot inside, curling.

“F-Fuck—!” Your back arched, but Choso kept you down. His brows furrowed in concentration, the wet sound filling his ears alongside your pleasure filled cries. Your pussy squeezed around the fingers, the squelches getting louder, but Choso knew your body well.

You hiccuped, small test slipping down your cheek as your orgasm neared for the fifth time. “You wanna cum?” He asks sweetly, softly above you, as if he was going to let you. Still, you whined, “p—please!” and for a second, Choso considered letting you have your way. You always got your way with Choso.

Your chest felt heavy. You couldn’t think of anything, nothing but the man whose fingers played between your legs. Sweat beaded your forehead. You were close..so close. Sniffling softly, you hiccup, biting down on your lip.

“You look pretty so pretty princess.” Princess. You realize just how much you missed him for that one week. How badly you wanted him to call you by the name he’d whisper into your ear everytime he fucked you like you were really his.

“Cum for me.” He pulls his fingers out, quickly rubbing them against your clit. Your body jerks, “Choso—fuck I-I’m—“ Your toes curl, a broken moan falling from your lips as your orgasm finally hits you “Fuck- fuckfuck-“ You were seeing stars, vision clouding through the overstimulation.

His fingers still caressed you sensitive clit as you felt your pretty pussy gush between your legs, making the creamy mess even messier. “There we go…thats my pretty girl.” Your body clinging to Choso’s voice as he touched you until the very last drop spilled.

You felt the cool metal of his lip piercing and the softness of his lips on your forehead, working down to your nose and finally to your parted lips. “You did so good princess.”

Choso makes quick work of his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. “So perfect for me.” He murmurs, sliding the torn fabric of your panties down your legs. His lips kiss your thighs softly. He wipes the tears from your eyes, carefully slipping your shirt off and tossing it. “I-“ Love you, he wanted to say

He pulls your body gently into his arms as he laid on his side. The cool air of his room hitting your skin just the way you like, with his body cradling yours. He kisses your forehead, your head leaning into his chest, eyes fluttering shut.

When you woke up you were surrounded by Choso’s scent, but not the man himself. You rub your eyes, feeling around the bed. Changed sheets and covers, but your plush the same. “Cho?” You had on one of his shirts. When he didn’t answer you bit your lip, going into the living room.

“Cho?”

The smell of smoke hits your nose. You peek into the kitchen to see him leaned up against the counter, blunt hanging from his mouth with his eyes closed. On the stove was a pot with the isle on low. His eyes peel open, holding his arms open. You hug him tightly, tucking your face into his chest. “I made you something to eat. Want some rice and stew?”

“Mhm…”

“..Im sorry for earlier.” He murmurs, arm wrapping around your body, fingers running through your hair. “…Could you tell me what I did to make you mad?”

You tuck your face farther, the hand in your hair pausing. “You don’t have to-“

“Haven’t talked to you in a week.” You mumble, “I was overthinking is all.”

“Overthinking?” Choso puts out the blunt in his ashtray, pulling your body back to look down at you.

“Yeah.. I know we’re not dating, but I got really used to your company and then it just went radio silent so I figured you wanted to go back to just strictly business or you figured I started catching feelings and was pulling away and-

“Slow down, princess.” He puts the blunt out in the ashtray on the counter. “One, I asked you if I could be your boyfriend before I left. Two, I also told you I’d be in the mountains for Yuji’s birthday week without service…You don’t remember?”

You stood frozen, searching your mind for the memory of two weeks ago. The last time you hung out with Choso before he left you’d tried something new he had got a hold of. “I…fuck I have to stop smoking.”

He laughs, running a hand down his face. “Fuck, you…really had me nervous.”

“Nervous enough to edge me?” You huff, reaching behind him for a bowl, your stomach growling.

“Because why the fuck would you even mention going to Sukuna-“

“Why else?” You stick your tongue out, tapping the hickey on your neck.

[reignpage]

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა In which Toji’s pretty fucking clingy

It starts with his early morning routine — whether he’s waking up before the sun for a “job” or heading out for a run, he peppers kisses all over your face along the way. A kiss the moment his eyes open, before he’s even turned his alarm off. A kiss when he gets back from the bathroom. A kiss after he’s gotten changed. A kiss before he leaves for work. Then another when he returns a second later because he feels like he didn’t give you a strong enough one to wish himself good luck.

“Mm, Toji, you’re gonna be late,” you groan groggily.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replies, rough hands brushing your hair back. “Made coffee and breakfast. Make sure you eat...Alright, one last kiss...No, kiss me like you actually love me, woman...Yeah, that’s a good one. Give me another, ma....Don’t be a pain in the ass. Might die out there. Want me to bleed out without a proper goodbye kiss? Yeah, thought so...Thanks, doll. Always so good to me.”

He always has his hands on you. Besides the possessive, sexual ways, he plays with your lips as you rest your head on his chest, feels the sharpness of your teeth, pokes your belly button for warmth, traces lines from freckle to freckle or mark to mark along your back, or even curls your damn pubes as you watch a movie.

Toji doesn’t even realise what his hands are doing. Not until you bring it up. He genuinely doesn’t know why he does any of it. “Oh,” he says, blinking. “Weird.”

Does he take his hand away from your bush?

No. Of course not.

It’s like he can’t sleep or rest or focus on what you’re watching if he’s not touching you.

He also follows you to the bathroom like a kid or a puppy. If you’re doing your makeup or brushing your teeth, his big self takes up most of the reflection in the mirror. Toji simply leans against the doorway and nods along to whatever gossip you’re sharing. And if you’re showering, he’ll sit on the toilet lid and watch. “Yeah? Why d’you think she does that? Childhood trauma, maybe?” he suggests, voice rough with sleep.

“Dunno. Some people are just born like that, I think,” you reply. With a groan, you make known how you can’t reach a spot on your back with your washcloth. He’s opening the shower door a second later. 

Toji takes over, making sure to scrub you even better than you would yourself, uncaring of the water splashing all over him. He grunts. “I blame her parents for not loving her enough. That’s why she needs all that attention.” A pause. “Trust me — I know.”

And he does all of this whilst pretending you’re the clingy one. As you’re laying on him, he’ll huff and complain, “Fuck, it’s warm. D’ya have to be clinging to me like some kinda koala? Can’t you go back to your side of the bed?”

Already used to his bullshit, you mumble between his meaty pecs, “You dragged me on top of you, Fushiguro. Every time I move back, I always find myself back here, so quit your yapping.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, dismissing you with a frown.

You begin rolling off his chest. Only to be halted by heavy arms which tighten around your body. Heavy silence passes.

Beneath you, Toji grumbles:

“Don’t say a word.”

Wario and Toji give off the same vibe to me... rip my taste in men

[mochaization]

𖦹 your daughter fought another kid at the daycare ⋮ a gojo fluff fic.

♯ guess who is back 👀 from this request, thank you dear anon for requesting this, hope you enjoy it! the fic didn't meet my expectation but i hope y'all still like it 😔 love you guys!

water dripped from the edge of Satoru's umbrella as he followed you through the daycare's front door, shoes squeaking slightly against the floor. the building was quieter now that most of the kids had gone home.

your daughter sat alone in one of the tiny tables near the window. her arms crossed and her face scrunched into a glare.

Satoru leaned down beside you. "She looks just like you," he murmured.

you ignored him with an eye roll.

the teacher spotted the both of you and gave a small, tired smile.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "There was a little incident during art time."

"Little?" you repeated, eyeing your daughter, who sank lower into her chair.

the teacher sighed softly. "Another student commented on her drawing and she reacted.. physically."

"Physically? Like what?" you asked.

the teacher blinked at you. "She pushed another student."

"Oh."

beside you, Satoru crouched beside her chair immediately, resting his chin against his hand. "Okay, sweetie," he started. "In your defense, was he annoying?"

your daughter nodded without hesitation. "Really annoying!"

the teacher sighed again before gesturing toward the table nearby. "It started because of her drawing."

both you and Satoru looked toward the table at the exact same time. the drawing in question sat crumpled there. it was.. definitely something.

Satoru tilted his head slightly. "Is that supposed to be a cat?"

your daughter gasped. "It IS a cat!"

"Ohh," he nodded slowly. "Okay, i see the vision now."

you snorted loudly beside him.

"He laughed at it," your daughter continued. "And then he crumpled it!"

Satoru looked down at the wrinkled paper on table. then back at her. "... that's actually kind of disrespectful," he admitted.

she nodded vigorously. "He said it didn't even look like a cat!"

"It does look like a cat, sweetheart."

"It does?"

"Mhm," he picked up the paper, studying it for a moment. "A weird one."

"Dad!"

"But still a cat," he grinned.

you looked between the two of them and sighed. "Satoru."

"Right, my bad," he set the drawing down before crouching in front of your daughter again. "You still can't push people, though."

her shoulders immediately slumped.

"But he ruined it," she said quietly.

for the first time, she sounded more upset than angry. kids cried over things adult would forget in minutes. broken toy, lost crayon, a drawing they'd spent all afternoon.. to them, those things were important.

and Satoru noticed too.

"I know," he said softly.

Satoru reached over and cupped her cheek for a moment. "But next time," he continued. "You tell the teacher first."

"What if they're still mean?"

"Then you come tell me and mom."

your daughter's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the stubborn frown she'd been wearing started to disappear.

your daughter reached over and smoothed one of the crumpled corners of the drawing before clutching it against her chest.

"Can we frame this?" she looked up at him.

"Of course, sweetheart."

© mochaization 2026. DO NOT copy, reconstruct, reupload on any other platform, or feed my works to AI.

[https-iso]

satoru gojo who finds out that his cum doubled in amount when he became spider man. not only that, but the thickness and flavor changed as well. what he enjoys the most is how you’ve been eating it up.

“please.. please cum in me.” you begged your boyfriend as he pounded into your weeping cunt. you had no clue how or why his cum changed so much. maybe he has been taking some sort of pill? you didn’t bother asking anyways.

“yeah? want me to put a baby in ya?” satoru chuckled. he knew that the type of spider that bit him is capable of giving birth to hundreds of babies at once, and he got off on the idea of you gifting him many children.

satoru let out a sharp groan the second you squeezed his cock, making it almost impossible for him to pull out.

his grip on your neck tightened as he pushed your face deeper into the drool stained pillow. “guess i got my answer huh?”

he snapped his hips forward, fucking you deeply. ever since the ‘bite of 2026 as he liked to call it, his stamina went off the chart, making it possible for him to endure fights, and of course for sex marathons.

your fingers gripped the sheets, back arching as you felt yourself grow near. with a final thrust, satoru released into you.

“fuck..” he gently pulled out, mesmerized at the way the extra liquid spilled out like a goddamn waterfall. his finger teased at your hole, collecting his own juices. “felt good, baby?”

you nodded, feeling absolutely worn out. his cum was too much, but you weren’t complaining.

[yeschefcarm]

i need more

[megloomi]

down bad fratjo x his mean gf

summary: dumb texts that i wrote bc the pickleball msg did actually come to me in a dream warnings: fem!reader (names like mama, wife, etc.), sexual humor, mean gf behavior (but they love each other it’s okay she’s a tsundere), idk cursing?, maybe toxic behavior? they're both just weirdos tbh a/n: idk just enjoy this or don’t these r stupid anyway.. just wanted to put smth out there for yall to munch on

[addict3dangel]

౨ৎ baby if you loved me you’ll call me your bunny 🐰

[sukunasleftbanana]

sukuna begs you to forgive him :(

Sukuna had never begged for anything in his life. Not money. Not forgiveness. Not help. Not even when he was twenty and working three jobs while trying to raise a screaming toddler who kept drawing on the walls with permanent marker while Choso slammed doors and screamed that he hated him.

Sukuna handled shit himself. Always. That was why this felt so wrong.

Why it felt like his ribs were cracking open every second you stared at him without saying anything. The apartment was dead quiet except for the rain tapping against the windows. You wouldn’t look at him.

That hurt worse than the yelling did.

Honestly, he wished you’d screamed.

Instead you just stood there near the kitchen counter with your arms wrapped around yourself like if you loosened them for even a second you’d fall apart.

“You done?” you asked quietly.

Sukuna swallowed. His throat actually fucking hurt.

“No.”

Your laugh came out broken. Small. “What else is there to say?”

Everything. Too much. Not enough.

The problem was Sukuna had never learned how to explain himself without sounding angry. Even now, his jaw was tight enough to crack teeth apart. His huge frame stood frozen near the front door like he didn’t know if he was allowed any closer.

Because he probably wasn’t. The image kept replaying in his head. You're calling him over and over. Him ignoring every single fucking call like an idiot. The bar and Yorozu hanging all over him.

His arm around her waist because he was drunk and pissed and stupid and wanted to hurt you after the fight. 

And then your face when you walked in.

Jesus Christ.

He’d seen people die before and somehow that look still haunted him worse.

“I said I was sorry,” he muttered hoarsely.

You finally looked at him then. Red eyes. Wet cheeks. “Sorry doesn’t erase it.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” your voice cracked. “Because I don’t think you get it, Sukuna.”

His stomach twisted violently hearing his name like that.

Not Ryo.

Not even Ryomen.

Just Sukuna. Cold and distant, as if you were referring to a stranger.

“You embarrassed me,” you whispered. “You humiliated me.” 

His chest caved inward.“I know.”

“You made me feel stupid for loving you.”

That one physically made him flinch, actually flinch. You noticed too because your face crumpled for half a second before hardening again. Good. He deserved it.

Sukuna dragged a hand down his face hard enough to redden the skin. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s the problem.”

Silence. 

The constant drum of rain, the sound of your uneven breathing. He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t fucking breathe in it.

“You think I wanted her?” he snapped suddenly. “You think I looked at her like I look at you?”

“You had your hands all over her.”

“Because I was angry!”

“And that makes it better?!”

“No!” His voice thundered through the apartment before he caught himself. You stepped back instinctively, tbat nearly killed him. The second he noticed fear flash across your face he looked sick with himself.

“...fuck,” he whispered.

You wiped your eyes aggressively. “I think you should leave.”

“No.”

Your head jerked up. “No?” you repeated in disbelief.

“I’m not leaving till you hear me out.”

“There’s nothing to hear!”

“There is for me.” His voice cracked on the last word, actually cracked. You both froze. Sukuna looked almost startled by it himself, like his own desperation disgusted him. His fists clenched so hard his tattoos stretched over his knuckles.

“You think this is easy for me?” he asked quietly. “You think I know how to do this shit?”

“You should’ve thought about that before–”

“I know!” he barked. 

Then softer, broken. “I know.”

God, he looked awful.

Not physically. Sukuna always looked intimidating no matter what. Six foot something of muscle and sharp edges and dark eyes.

But emotionally? He looked ruined. Hair messy from shoving his hands through it nonstop. Eyes bloodshot. Hoodie half soaked from the storm outside because apparently he hadn’t even bothered with an umbrella when he chased after you.

“You didn’t even come home,” you whispered.

His face twisted because that was the worst part. You’d waited for him, called him, texted him. And he’d ignored every single one because he’d been angry after your argument and wanted to “win.”

God, he hated himself.

“I know.”

“That whole night I thought maybe something happened to you.” Tears spilled faster now. “I was terrified.”

His breathing stuttered. 

Then you laughed bitterly. “And then I walk in and see you with another girl.”

Sukuna looked like someone had punched him directly in the throat.

“She didn’t matter.”

“But I did,” you whispered. “And you still did it.”

That shut him up, because you were right. Completely right. The silence stretched so long it became unbearable. 

Then finally– 

“I don’t know how to lose you.”

Your eyes flickered. Sukuna stared at the floor like the words physically hurt to say. “I don’t know how to do that.”

His voice had gone rough. Not angry rough, raw rough.

“I’ve lost damn near everybody else in my life. Parents. Friends. People leave. Shit happens. Fine.” His jaw tightened. “But you…”

He looked at you finally.

And God.

You’d never seen him look afraid before. Not truly afraid.

“I can’t fucking do that with you.”

Your face wavered. Sukuna noticed immediately and stepped closer before stopping himself halfway like he didn’t trust his own body anymore.

“You’re all over this place,” he whispered desperately. “You’re in my routines. My brothers love you. Yuji asks for you before bed every damn night. Choso tells you shit he won’t tell me. Your stupid hair ties are all over my bathroom. Your coffee order’s stuck in my head permanently.”

He laughed once. Humorless. “I see somethin pink in a store and think of you automatically. That’s sick.”

A tear slid down your cheek.

“I fucked up,” he said shakily. “I know I did.” His breathing got uneven. “And I swear to God I’ll spend every day makin up for it if you let me.”

You stayed quiet. And that silence was making him unravel. Sukuna took another step forward, then another, until he was right there. Close enough that you could see his hands trembling.

Sukuna.

Trembling.

“I don’t know how to beg,” he admitted quietly. “So if I’m shit at this, that’s why.”

Your lips parted slightly. Then his voice dropped even lower.

“But please.”

The word sounded painful, like glass in his throat.

“Please don’t leave me over the worst mistake I ever made.”

You looked down immediately because your eyes filled too fast. Sukuna panicked. Actually panicked. His hands hovered near you before gripping his own wrists instead.

“Fuck– no, don’t cry, baby, please–”

“You made me cry!”

“I know, I know, I know–”

His words stumbled over each other desperately. You’d never seen him like this.

Never.

Sukuna was the kind of man who got angry when he got hurt. The kind that buried feelings so deep they turned poisonous.

But now? Now he looked like he was drowning right in front of you.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered. “I’ve been outside this apartment for an hour tryin to figure out how to make you stay.”

Your chest tightened painfully. “I almost didn’t come up,” he admitted. “Thought maybe you’d be happier if I disappeared.”

Your head snapped up immediately. “Don’t say that.”

His eyes softened instantly at your reaction. There you were, still caring, even now. That nearly destroyed him all over again.

“I love you,” he said suddenly.

You froze.

Sukuna almost never said it first. Almost never said it at all. But now the words were falling out of him uncontrollably.

“I love you so fucking much it makes me sick sometimes.” His voice shook. “You think I touched her because I wanted her? I did it because I knew it’d hurt you and I was angry and stupid and selfish.”

His face twisted in disgust at himself.

“And the second I saw your face I wanted to rip my own fucking arm off for touching her.”

Your breath hitched.

“I know sorry isn’t enough,” he whispered. “I know that.”

Then finally–

The thing that broke you completely.

Sukuna reached for your hand carefully. Tentatively, like he thought you might pull away. And when you didn’t? His entire body visibly sagged in relief. 

“Please,” he whispered again. Not angry, not proud, just desperate. 

“Tell me how to fix this.”

.

.

.

Will you forgive him?

I was listening to "Players Prayer" by Lloyd, and it inspired me to write something new. It’s definitely different from my usual style, but please thank the weather and the assignments and exams I have piled up for this weeeek :'( I'd honestly forgive sukuna bc i'm so downbad for him, but wat about u guuuys?