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Sweet Creature - G.S.

Synopsis. To Geto Suguru it’s the Creature, The Strongest being in existence, his masterpiece of science. To you he’s Gojo Satoru, the poor experiment you found chained up in the scientist’s dungeon, the creation that taught himself how to love. To him he doesn’t know who he is, but he knows where he belongs - with you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, Creature!Gojo, Frankenstein!Geto, based on Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein, PLOT, 1800’s, worldbuilding, love triangles (Gojo x reader x Geto), angst, vioIence, bIood, backstories, accidentally falling in Iove, oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK Gojo, spítting, face-ríding, fíngering, teaching him, first times (Gojo), he’s BIG, tummy buIges, cervíx kíssin’, making it fit, BRÉEDING, matíng presses, raw, FÉRAL GOJO, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, rough s, creampíes, cúmpIay, overstím, implied marathon, time skips, Nanami cameo, HAPPY ENDING, pet name, swéaring.

Word count. 16.8k

A/N. I’ve been wanting to do this AU for SOOOO LONG-

1857.

Reds of the Royal Danish Navy shed against bone-white ice; the Horisont has found itself trapped in ice amidst the expedition to the North Pole.

It was a coldness beyond cold, a glaucoma of the world. Only in such a place does the belligerence of humanity dim before a ceaseless peripheral of something much greater. Something much older. Something soul-cold.

Here, one cannot see.

One cannot swallow. One cannot hear.

And it is why Captain Nanami Kento pauses between scratching at his parchment. He works stiffly and slowly beneath the damp glow of the lantern, with an ear craned in the direction of the deck outside: the heaving of ropes being put to work, the chants between cold coughs, the sudden slamming of produce.

“Captain!” One of the newer crew members, still sun-tanned and youth-freckled, barges in through the door. From the doorway he pants out urgently, “Captain, an explosion- oh, you simply must see this.”

Nanami rises cautiously, “See what, boy?”

“A- a monster.”

A coldness creeps into his heart. “Get the men.”

In almost no time, there’s a group of about ten crew members racing down the frost-bitten landscape. They held their lit torches high, trembling flames that were snapped and slobbered in all directions by the wind, as if lambs being hauled to slaughter.

A few of the lookouts had already set a bonfire in the distance to mark their finding, and as Nanami leads the group closer, he can feel his pulse jump to his throat. He can taste the blood. He can smell it.

He brings a gloved hand up to cover his nostrils as he looks on at the reddened snow, “This…this blood- where does it hail from? Has one of ours been injured?”

“Not ours, Captain!” One of the seamen hasten to explain, he jogs past the bonfire. “A wounded man, he has suffered a great loss of blood!” And where the man motions them, Nanami could see two writhing lumps in the darkness - about as large as a young Grey Seal, though perhaps not made of as much pure muscle.

They follow the man—a corpse.

At least, well on his way to become one.

Dressed much like them in protective coats, there was no telling just how long the man had been laying there in the snow. In a slowly-growing pool of his wine-blood. His fingers were blue, mouth trembling, eyes frosted shut. Though, perhaps out of some sick sense of mercy. Because even from here Nanami could see the garish slashes on the man’s neck and shoulders.

His pale face grimaces at the torrent of light that signals the crew’s entrance, muttering something that they could not discern.

Nanami’s the first to crouch beside him and take the man into his arms, “Bear attack?”

“I do not believe so, Captain.” The same young crew member from before urgently speaks, “Our early lookouts- they claim they saw something in the shadows…something otherworldly!” Nanami looks into the boy’s ghost-white face, “Something demonic!”

The blond man nods, “Itadori, help me with his boot.”

Together, they manage to knife between the coagulation of frost and blood that composed of the man’s boot. Like much of his body. It was a tough leather fighting against a dull blade, enough to make one sweat even in the bitter landscape. And Nanami almost thinks better of his decision before-

“A prosthetic leg.” Itadori breathes. He holds up the metal limb for the rest of the crew to peer at, fashioned from some sort of metal, it was attached to the man with a series of buckles and belts. So intricate, in fact, that had it not been for the discoloration then one might have thought that it was his natural outgrowing limb.

Nanami’s brows furrow at the device, “This must be…and what about the other one?”

“The what?” Itadori asks.

“The other one.” Nanami’s the one to make his way onto the other ‘lump’ he’d made out, much more frozen stiff than the other one. He kneels down to gently wipe off the clumps of snow on the grooves of your face, your beautiful, beautiful face. You didn’t seem to be at all hurt, unlike the man. “A woman…”

“Found with the older man, Captain.” One of the crew answers, “Both frozen, almost to death.”

“Almost to death…”

And that’s when they hear it.

It.

That ghastly, guttural roar that came from no place but hell.

If the darkness could speak, this could be its voice. Hear its nightmare, its pain, its humanity. It makes the crew members break out in a cold sweat.

In the three seconds that it rips through the wind, Nanami’s running his mind through every page of every zoological textbook he’s ever read - and coming up blank after each one. Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank—no living creature should ever be able to make a sound like this.

Just what in hell was that?

“C-Captain!”

It’s Itadori’s trembling tone that snaps Nanami out of his frozen state. He looks to the boy—fuck, he looks down and realizes that his hands were shaking.

“Put- put him…” Lips parched, he clears his throat and doesn’t care if it’s unsteady. “Put him onboard! Now!” Nanami yells at the crew, who instantly move to action as he keeps an eye in the dark direction of where the noise had originated from.

Beyond their circle of torches, something shifts in the shadows.

Something tall.

Tall.

Another roar—“Hurry!” The Captain cries, helping his crew lift the injured man. “To the ship! Now—”

Perhaps because of the blood loss, their straggler is nothing more than a slight burden in their trembling arms, though with that- that thing in the darkness beyond them, he just might as well have weighed a hundred tonnes.

It’s with such dreadful relief that they manage to reach the Horisont and lever the body up the port side of the ship. As it’s carted off like a still-trembling corpse, Nanami calls out to the seamen that work the base. “Itadori, that thing is coming.”

“C-Captain?” The boy asks, nervously.

And the older man only silently hands him a gun, “We have to be ready.” Holding one himself, he raises the nozzle of the pistol in the air and fires, man-made thunder in response to the voice of something beyond. “Ready the rifles!”

Rows upon rows, guns upon guns, human beside human.

Lining the berth of the ship with their weapons raised, they clutched those polished wooden handles. Death at their fingertips. A third roar punctuates the night, and had it not been for their Captain’s presence right beside them, those men might just have been running for their life.

“On my command…” Nanami calls out.

Something bludgeons through the wintry landscape. As tall as even the tallest hanging icicles, with a coat that flaps around it like bat wings.

“Aim…”

Inhuman.

“Fire!”

Gunshots ring out like applause, ah, the only invention of humanity that may cut through the cold. That may slice it. Two of the bullets hit the creature in what looked to be its shoulders, and it collapses to the ground with a pained cry. Pained? Could it really feel such a thing?

Most monsters didn’t. And this one raises its hooded head and roars.

Oh—Nanami’s stepping backwards before he can stop himself.

“Next group, next group!” Itadori’s juvenile voice takes command in place of his Captain, though he was shaking even more so. Crew members with their guns cocked kneel down in the exact positions of the previous line.

Their nozzles smoke, hungry for blood.

With an arm stretched outwards, Nanami’s directing them. “On my command…aim…fire-”

Gunshot after gunshot after gunshot.

A second round of applause. A standing ovation. Almost with more fervour than before, those bullets reach towards the limelight where their lanterns were fixated on this hulking, inhuman figure. A hard target to miss.

Hit after hit after hit.

And yet…it does not stop. It does not slow down. It does not even shed blood - this thing takes their most fierce protection, lets it sink into its body as if not the worst thing it’s ever experienced. The bullets embed deep into its clamoring limbs, only increasing the fury in its pace.

Step after step after step.

Until finally- they’re catching a glimpse of blood-shot eyes.

“Re-retreat! To the ship.” Nanami yells, grabbing some of his crew members and pulling them to stand. He’s shoving them in the direction of the ramp that led up the side of the ship, not looking backwards until Itadori was already aboard. “To the ship! Retreat to the ship! Ret- no.”

He’s whipping his head behind as one of the foolhardy men rush in the direction of the monster with his gun. Raised as if to bash it with it—

“Retreat!”

In just one sweeping motion the creature throws the crew member aside. Hard enough that he bangs against the side of the ship, hard enough to break bone.

Nanami pales as he hears the crunching of ligaments and skeleton, screaming out at his crew to board the ship once more. “Retreat- retreat, I say! This is an order from your Captain!” He’s stomping through the bustling deck, weaving through the men that feared for their life as much as they feared the life now rattling the ladder of the ship. “Where is that man we brought aboard? Where?”

“St-starboard, Captain.” Itadori replies.

And Nanami wastes no time before going up to the man - laid out amongst some blankets on the side of the ship - and grabbing him by the lapels of his frost-crusted coat, “What does that thing want?” He barks out at the groaning man, he assumes that you’d been taken inside. “Tell me! What does it want-”

Another young member, Ino, quivers out. “Captain, he’s almost—”

Roaring.

Gone and guttural.

It had reached the deck by now, standing tall amidst the crew that raced like ants. That looked just as helpless. In one hand it crushes a human skull as if nothing, and with the other he points straight at the shivering corpse.

“Bring- her- to me-”

A voice that sends their hearts beating out of their chests, so that they felt less-than human. Just as it sounded.

Her…?

From behind, one of the crew members stabs at the creature with the edge of his gun. Nanami doesn’t wait to watch him get flung off the edge of the ship- “The Blunderbuss.” He’s turning to the crew with widened eyes, breathless. “Ino, get the Blunderbuss!”

“Y-yes, Captain!”

In no time, a heavy metal firearm is being pressed into Nanami’s hands. He doesn’t wait to take aim and—shoot!

It strikes the monster right in the middle of his chest, and it stumbles. Hands but a blur on the greed-cold nozzle, sweat sticking his skin to metal, one eye closing in concentration- the Captain shoots again.

And again.

Each one finds its target with deathly precision. But a monster never truly dies, does it? Not until they can spike fear into the hearts of those mortal? It turns out, they merely fell.

As if a great oak befalling, it almost hurt to watch it descend. They all rush over to the other side of the deck as the monster plummets; the ice below craters once it rests, erupting a halo of dark blue lightning bolts brought out of the frozen water. Nanami wastes no time lugging the prolonged length of the Blunderbuss over the deck and shooting it a few more times - this time, however, not quite at their untimely visitor.

He aims for the thinning ice that cracks off with the blows, segregating the creature from the rest of them. And not one member of the crew releases a relieved breath until after the chunk of ice breaks off. Floats off.

It opens its eyes.

Snaking his body upright, “Give her…” Charging back towards the ship. A voice that thunders up to where they are, and makes everyone take a step back. “Give her to me-” All but Nanami, of course, who aims a single shot at the monster—and lets his hand fly off the trigger.

BANG—!

CRASH.

Thrown off his feet, it seems that the taller they are the harder they fall indeed. That…thing ends up with its back against the slab of ice once more, which gives way beneath its weight as if made out of nothing but paper. Opening up a gaping mouth. Ice-water sloshing at its feet. Crumbling into the tiniest pieces, the monster sinks…

The Captain doesn’t lower his gun or his caution until he can’t see its flailing arms any longer. Until the sea swallows up their woes with a gurgle, and with it, a creature more monster than man. Nanami peers down as its blood-black cloak dissipates into nothingness.

Then - and only then - does he turn to face the rest of the stunned crew.

“Take me to her.”

Less than an hour later, the man was up and talking—you, however, weren’t quite as lucky. According to the ship’s doctor you were alive, it seems, but just barely.

Itadori frowns at your shiver and rubs on your hands even harder. Entire body tinged ever-so-slightly with a pallor of blue - it didn’t matter what your original shade was, you looked plain sickly. And so tiny in Nanami’s bed, his heart aches as he lifts his bedcovers up to your chin, wishing that he had more than some ol’ Captain’s drudgery. You looked like a lady.

“Where am I…?” The black-haired man’s voice creaks out, his long locks sweeping the ship’s floor. He seemed to be the Captain’s own age. Despite being in the warmth now, he still quivered - whether out of the frigid outside, or the memory, Nanami wasn’t quite sure. “Who-”

“You’re aboard the Royal Danish ship, Horisont.” Nanami answers, watching as the doctor hands him a vial of something that the man downs with a wince. “I’m Captain Nanami, this is Dr. Shoko.”

“How many of your men did it kill?”

The blond man shivers, momentarily speechless.

He looks at the man intensely, his teeth were drenched in red. “…Six.”

“It will come back and kill many more.” He begs, tone trembling until it was almost indiscernible. He sweeps a hand around the room, flickering in and out of existence in the dim lantern. “All of you, if necessary, unless you deliver me to it.”

Nanami bends down until he’s eye-level with the other man, almost condescending. “It’s gone. It sank in the freezing waters, it’s dead-”

“No, it is not!”

There’s a bang and a clutter- suddenly the long-haired man is upon him, grabbing Nanami by the coat and shaking him. His eyes held a madness to them that shook the taller man to his very core, and he found his own scared face staring back at him through those irises. “It cannot be killed! It- it…” As if the weight of his own words were hitting him, he’s sinking back onto the couch that made his impromptu clinical bed. “It c-cannot die…I’ve tried.”

“You’ve tried?” Itadori pipes up.

Nanami looks at the madman wearily, “And you have most certainly been…unsuccessful.”

“Whether you believe me or not…” Sinking his head into his hands, throat shattering in tears. “-it will come back…for me.” He breathes heavily, “And when it does, you must promise that you will put me out on the ice and let it take me.” Looking up into Nanami’s molten eyes, “Please.”

“What sort of creature is that?” Shoko asks, taking off her medical gloves. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Or more pertinent a question—” Nanami looks behind at your shivering figure, still, and then at the man before him. “What manner of devil made him?”

The man gulps, “I did.” As if the weight of a thousand years was rushing out of him at once, “I, Geto Suguru, made him.”

.

PART I: Geto’s Story.

His name was Geto. Geto Suguru.

It was his father that gave him that name, Suguru (杉る) meaning excellent, superior, surpass. One could claim that it all started with him, his father. And his mother.

For there are some parents that bear no merit to become parents in anything other than name.

The world changes once you bear life, you know, in the way that they look at you, in the way that they speak to you, in the way that they know you. They don’t know you as anything otherwise. And unless you can change with the world, then the world will change you. For love is a melding of souls that leaves one’s tempered.

And one has to be strong to accept change, to be changed. Both physically and mentally. Fear it, of course - the presence of strength does not equate to an absence of fear - but be strong. Change.

The strength of one’s love is equivalent to the strength of one’s self. Why shouldn’t you change?

And so—to recap, the world shall change, you shall change - so who does that leave amongst the conflict?

Why, the child, of course.

To his mother, he was strong: her first-born. And this woman amongst women, this flurry of passion and decadence, the only person to ever beat him in cards, the sole empress of their mansion to brave his father for all those years; to him, she was far stronger than he.

Far stronger.

And yet, his mother died at the hands of the nation’s best doctor.

His father.

Geto Suguru’s mother died giving birth to his younger brother. Though she didn’t die with regrets- at least, their father didn’t believe so.

The youngest child was the apple of their father’s eye, the one that couldn’t grow up, the one that was worth a life. He was the breeze, Geto was the storm cloud.

Where he was locked in the library and taught the ways of the human tissue, it was his brother that was boasted at every social function. What had taken him years of reciting the complexities of anatomy to learn from his father, his brother could earn a smile with but a single look. When he had never heard a syllable of love from his father, he could hear through his bedroom—a wall shared with his younger brother’s, sweet goodnights.

There was something more- or rather, there was something missing.

“Father?” He remembers asking one morning after their early anatomy lesson. Geto must have been barely fourteen by this point, though his father acted around him like nothing more than if he were dealing with a poisonous viper.

The elderly man pauses, and turns stiffly towards his first-born. “Yes?”

“You let her die, did you not?”

“I did everything in my power to save her. You must know that.” His father answered, grimly. He clutched his textbooks tighter as his son got up and rounded the table slowly.

Geto looks at him, “So you failed.”

The patriarch looks at him dismissively, “No one can conquer death.” And it has the tone of the final say, to which the man turns his back and leaves.

“I will.” Geto calls out after him. And there was no way that the baron didn’t hear him, no way that he didn’t know the boy had just picked up his own cane. A thin bristling woodwork singed with years of hitting onto the very flesh that held it now.

Geto whips it through the air, “I will conquer it.” He wasn’t speaking at a particularly high volume, and yet it cracks through the halls of the library- making his father stop in his tracks and turn. “Everything you know, I will know too.”

The man looks at him with intense eyes, so similar to his younger brother’s. “I think we’ve done quite enough for today.”

Ultimately, he was not strong enough.

The Geto fortune’s downfall was swift; two revolts and a fire across their fields left them bereft. They kept the estate, but lost everything else.

Including his father.

Geto was accepted into the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh, where he attempted to…widen the narrow vision of academia. It is here that he held his own at a tribunal hearing, before an audience of a hundred he demonstrated his earliest experiment mending the arm of a dead man, and the head of another. By running an electric current through this specimen, he made it move—life!

“This is a hearing, Doctor, not a carnival act!” Another powder-wigged, bespectacled, puff-pastried member of the board cried out from his raised podium.

It was exactly because of bigwigs like him that Geto had to attend such a hearing in the first place. Some of the higher-ups had caught a whiff of his experiments on corpses, and thus they’d demanded a proper investigation before the entire association, to determine whether such acts were in line with the ‘morals and scientific integrity of’ the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh.

The other surgeons around him leaned in on the edge of their seats as the elderly board member stabbed a finger in the direction of the moving corpse. He seethes, as if he found the mere display of it offensive to his eyes. “You’re not helping your cause, this galvanic trickery will simply not do!”

“Trickery.” Geto repeats, reaching deep into his pockets. “Trickery?”

Before everyone, he pulls out a red apple, ripe to the touch. Throwing it in the air a few times—before throwing it to the corpse.

Who reaches out and catches it.

“That is not trickery- that is a decision!” He cries out at the display. The single arm twists and turns, letting the deceased head inspect the apple. And above the applause, Geto yells in elation. “Motor coordination between the eye of one dead man, and the arm of another! Infused with new will and the rudiments of understanding-”

A board member cuts him off, “Understanding in a brain that has already died-”

“This is the future! It is strength-”

“It is an abomination!”

It is only after Geto was formally expelled for his ‘blasphemous’ research by the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh did he meet Kenjaku. It was with a tip of his hat and a bow so low that the tips of his nose nearly touched the blood-stained pavement, and then Kenjaku was led inside his laboratory.

He had strange stitches on his forehead, and Geto thought of him as almost a kindred spirit. A face to which he couldn’t put an age. He claimed to be an acquaintance of his brother’s and inquired into the other man’s work.

It was also the first time that Geto Suguru heard your name, his brother’s fiancée.

It was also the first time that his heart had undergone the strangest palpitations that were not in line with any medical textbook he’d devoured before.

“So you claim you can do it-” Kenjaku had peered down at the man, dark eyes twinkling in interest. “-bring a man to life from the dead? Create a man that is so strong that he may not die?”

“I know I can.”

And it seemed to have been exactly the answer that he’d been looking for.

Kenjaku reached into his long coat, and pulled out a flat white card with swooping cursive. “I have a proposal for you, Doctor.” At the surgeon’s raising eyebrows, his feline grin only grows. “I will endow your pursuit with unlimited resources. In exchange, I may in time ask you for a favor in return- but mostly, it would be my utmost honor to record your process for posterity.”

Geto looks at his outstretched hand. He hesitates. “I will…consider-”

“Don’t pretend to be reasonable now, Doctor.” Forcefully, the card with details is being pushed into his hand. “It would be such a shame.”

Geto never did find out his first name.

In the coming weeks Geto also grew to meet you, and he grew to be hated by you.

Or so you claimed. It was the interference of the natural cycle between life and death that made you instantly dislike him, you’d heard enough about his work from Kenjaku, a close family acquaintance. So to see this pompous, stubborn, (beautiful) scientist in the flesh was not too different from meeting the devil himself.

And the devil always was quite tempting.

“You laugh at my ideas?” He’d asked on your first meeting with him. It had been a lunch with none other than Kenjaku, his younger brother, and you.

And while the former two had disappeared for ‘brandy and cigars’ at a moment’s notice of one of your brewing debates, Geto had been the only one to stay. To sit opposite you on the long table. To look you straight in the eyes as you scoffed at his claims to bring a dead man back to life. “Idea are not worthwhile by themselves now, are they?”

He crosses his arms, “Explain.”

“Think of the war, for example.” Your steely gaze watches as Geto’s dark brows raise, “Honor. Country. Valor. These surely are worthwhile elevated ideas by themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Mhm.”

“And nevertheless, men are dying for them, in a decidedly less elevated way.” You continue, “Face down in the mud, choking on blood, screaming in pain. Fathers, brothers, sons. Men that were nursed into this world by their mothers, only to fall on a battlefield far from those that provoke these tragedies.” You’re looking straight at him, “Those men remain at home, untouched by blood or bayonet.”

Geto tugs on his coats, skin hot for the first time in…ever. “I-I see-”

“That is what happens when ideas are pursued by fools.”

His head snaps up, “And you think me a fool? Hm?”

To which you lean close enough that your breath wafts his face, warm and only warmer. Just the slightest smile on your face, “Run to your brandy and cigars~”

He’d never been harder.

A few weeks after that meeting, Geto rode down in a carriage with Kenjaku to a lake near Vaduz across the channel. A tower built as a water filtration plant and abandoned at the start of the war; the moment he laid eyes on it, the tower, he could feel destiny calling.

He could feel it.

The months slurred into one, and so did his experiments.

He stitched together the corpses of prisoners and men recently hanged, until he’d grown quite expert in making seamless threads on skin, until even various shades of skins could be melded into one. Trial after trial after trial.

The floor of his once-new laboratory ran red.

And with every step closer he got to creating life, it felt like Geto lost a bit of his own.

The first time that Geto bedded you, that was the night that he finalized the creation that would come to be his greatest downfall. He’d finally found the pressure points he needed to intrude in order to keep the lymphatic system intact.

And he worked like a dog.

Night after night after nightmarish night. Those bad dreams melded into reality, and Geto could differentiate which was which.

Until one night, a strom was a-brewing above his spiral tower, and Geto stepped back to admire his creation. Upon a cross-like platform hoisted a pale body much larger than the largest man, much less human. He’d chosen each body part himself, of course: that toned torso, that handsome face, that small waist, those sea-blue eyes, hair of holy white.

The perfect creation.

As flares of lightning outreached across the sky, Geto connected the body to various cables and bolts aiming to extract the energy of the storm. Climbing to the top of the tallest tower, he’d enabled a massive ray that acted as a lightning catcher aimed straight at the lifeless body upon the cross. Like the hand of the heavens above, it was to give life.

“By God, it’s perfect.” Kenjaku whispers, coming up to the surgeon’s side in the laboratory. Kenjaku had taken residence in this very tower until Geto was to complete his experiment, and he frantically stopped Geto in his ministrations- “Quick! Quick, you have to do it now-”

“Pardon-” Geto’s brows furrowed, “Do what?”

“My brain.”

He pales, “P-pard-”

“My brain- inside that body.” He shakes the younger man, “Did I not say that the time would come when I ask you for a favor, boy? Well this is that time- quick, before the storm reaches its peak! Extract my brain and place it into the perfect body of our new Adam-”

Geto smacks his hand away, voice heightening. “That’s madness! I work with corpses, I will not kill just to put your-”

“Is it the money?”

He rounds the scientist now, hands throwing up in the air. And Geto can only step backwards—

“Because I can give you all the money you want- ohoho! You only need to say yes-”

“But-”

He swipes a hand out once more to grab the other man, though Geto dodges it this time. “-no more, and no less!” Closing in on the man, “Just think about it, my boy, for me- youth! And for you, eternal wealth! No money in the world would be enough for this, and I can give it all to you if you just say the-”

“No.”

Kenjaku charges.

And at that exact moment, lightning clashes.

CLAP—!

It erupts from the needle-like end of the ray, making every piece of metal in the laboratory glow molten red with heatwaves. The diagonal and vertical lines of lightning crackling through the air, powerful enough that one could almost feel the atoms around it sizzling. Making the energy spark against metal as it conducts, making a stray beam hit Kenjaku and make him drop to the floor with a cold shiver. Dead.

Geto himself can just barely manage to throw himself underneath one of his desks and take cover. His head in his hands, his heart in his throat.

And in the distance, something seems to ba-dump—!

When Geto Suguru opens his eyes again, he isn’t the only thing alive in that laboratory.

.

“And it was a monster.” In the present day, a Geto Suguru that was not much older - though he felt as such, he sighed as such - finishes off his story by spitting. It was as if speaking the very tale into memory left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, “With the average body and mind of a twenty-eight-year-old, and yet I discovered soon that it had super strength, healing like never seen in a natural organism before- and as his strength increased, mine waned. I did not sleep, I did not eat, I did not live- and more than that, I could not make it speak. I created The Strongest, and in doing so I created a monster.”

Nanami Kento runs a hand down his face silently, “You played God and now…”

“And now you reap the consequences.” Itadori is the one to finish off.

And the tired surgeon can only nod, placing his aching head in his hands once more. “I am its creator, and I have created a monster. It is something that should never have been done- never! I should have listened to her-”

“I did tell you so.”

A soft voice speaks up, and the fatigued crew almost believes it to be nothing but a hallucination- till they’re hearing the rustle of coarse bedsheets, and they instantly snap their heads towards the Captain’s bed.

It was you.

At some point during Geto’s story, you’d managed to seat yourself up on the bed without any of them knowing. Keeping a keen ear on what was being said. Like Geto, you had that same air of faint fatigue about you- but you still held your head high, your poise that of high aristocracy.

Tired, but still as beautiful as ever. And Nanami swears he catches the surgeon’s gaze glimmer ever-so-slightly as they drift over to you.

By the determined glint in your pupils, he guessed you were none other than Geto’s brother’s (former, likely) fiancée.

Itadori jumps away from his seat on the bed with a squawk, blushing to the roots of his rosy hair. With a slightly stifled giggle, you’re patting the mattress beside you and getting him to sit once more. Once that was over, you cross your palms atop one another and introduce yourself.

“Captain Nanami Kento.” Nanami’s respectfully removing the cap of his uniform and bowing, hoping that you didn’t catch the exact shade of rouge that his ears were.

“Dr. Ieri Shoko.”

“Itadori Yuji.”

You’re nodding as they introduce each other, the rest of the crew, one after the other. Before ultimately settling on Geto, “And I know you too well.”

“Too well.” He chuckles.

“You have all heard my acquaintance’s story here.” You do not wait for the next invitation, gesturing at the man that was still sitting upon the couch. The rest of the room leans in with a nod, “So I believe it should only be fair that I share mine, too.”

.

PART II: Your Story.

You knew that Geto Suguru was trouble - you knew it.

In addition to unapologetically luring you away from your fiancé (his very brother, at that! That most certainly should’ve been enough to tell you all needed to know about the man), he was steeped in work of such nature that it should never even be spoken into existence. Such blasphemous ideologies, you had never heard of in your entire life.

And you didn’t want to.

At least, that’s what you had assumed. But Geto just had a way about him that was so…irresistable.

And even these past few weeks where he’d been holed up within his laboratory had a part of you missing him. Not necessarily out of any romantic obligation- though, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him in your bed. But mostly, you simply wanted to know whether he’d finally completed his life-death mission and left the rest of humanity to bear its consequences.

Unholy, unholy consequences.

“Oh, Suguru…” Your voice comes out breathless, murky in the stagnated air of the dungeon. It had been weeks since either Geto nor Kenjaku had responded to a letter from you, and without further ado - what next was there to do but barge into the very laboratory?

It wasn’t a difficult task you had to admit. The massive mill had been deemed empty after a few of your knocks went unanswered, and the door was unlocked - what have you told Geto about prioritizing his safety!

Nonetheless, it had worked in your favor this time. And while your fiancé had gone in search of his brother, you’d wandered throughout the entire barren, dilapidated mansion until you’d heard a few rustles from…the floor below the ground.

The dungeons.

Wondering that perhaps something unseemly had happened to one of the residents here, you’d quickly made your way down. And the sight that met you—oh, it had your vision blurring with- tears? You weren’t quite sure what was even real by this point.

It was a massive underground cavern, tiled clinically with white stone on every wall. Great pillars. Glistening streams of water. It wafted out slightly damp particles into the air, and made your breath take formulation in front of you. Tall concave arches curved their backs like portals into other worlds, and beyond the largest one- you could see a figure.

So pale that it almost melded into the walls it was chained to, almost wanted to.

But nothing could hinder the sight of the long-limbed, otherwordly…human before you. Less than human, more than not. He had the brightest blue eyes. Pale hair. Wearing nothing but a robe- more like a blanket, around his lower half. Stepping closer, you could see scar-like stitches around most of his joints: his neck, his legs, the most prominent one in the middle of his toned torso. You bring your hand up to your mouth and whisper, “Oh, Suguru, what have you done?”

The figure stirs at your voice, and stands.

“I…” You don’t know what to say, instinctually taking a step back behind a pillar as he stands to his full, towering height. Nearly eight feet tall, perhaps more. The strands of his ivory hair brushed the very ceiling, and you had to crane your head up to take a look at his handsome face.

The way he moves- jerky, to try and crane his head to see you. As if eager.

You notice that he couldn’t move much with the multiple chains around his wrists, and so you step into the light. Breathing out, “H-Hello.”

And then he smiles.

The most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen.

As you get closer, he silently cocks his head to look down at you.

“Hello.” You say, with more conviction this time. You’re raising your head up fully into the white overhead light, looking right into those beautiful blue eyes—and you think you hear him take in a slight hitched breath. You introduce yourself. “Have you been here long?”

As expected, he doesn’t answer once more. Simply blinking down dreamily at you, slow and steady like he was memorizing your face.

And yet you continue anyways- “It must be cold in here- here.” You’re shrugging off your coat immediately, and though it might be quite small for the giant, you stand on your tip-toes to help him wrap it over his naked shoulders. “I’m sorry, it’s not much- oh.” Mouth slightly dropping as he cups his hand over yours, just as you were straightening out the fabric over his pale skin. You feel the coldness of his body and gasp.

His large body somewhat startles at the noise, and you’re immediately feeling empathetic.

“Oh! Oh, I do apologize for scaring you.” In a slightly more hushed tone, you’re smiling up at him - hoping that perhaps it would disarm him, make him take a step closer. “That was not very lady-like of me, was it? Do forgive me.”

And you didn’t quite give a damn about customs, if you do say so yourself. But before this man you’re placing your hands upon either side of your skirt and curtseying- distinctly sure that you were making a fool of yourself before—

Rattle—!

You’re whipping your head up to realize that this giant was mimicking you - with his head bowed, and his lithe hands pinching the air of an invisible skirt.

You can’t help but giggle, and that draws a soft grunt from the creation, as if imitating that, too.

Or at least wishing to.

After a few seconds of drinking him in, you notice that he was looking rather intently at your hands. The very same part of you that he’d touched earlier.

His touch had been gentle, parched.

And in almost slow-motion, you’re tugging off the silken gloves that encased your hands. The expensive fabric was stuck to your fingertips like a second skin, and the giant’s eyes widen as if he was looking at you peeling a layer of your own. Reaching your exposed palm out—he grips your hand in his cold, cold ones and drags you closer.

He exhales as he brings it up to his face, as he feels you- as he presses your fingertips to his mouth and kisses. The man (or perhaps something else entirely?) lets out a soft chuckle as he feels you.

“Mm-” He grunts out, pressing a tender kiss on your hand before letting it free. Those overlarge palms of his move onto your other, and you’re almost about to repeat the movements of removing your glove on that one - before he tugs on the material at your ring finger. Pinching it delicately between his own digits, and tugging it down off.

Undressing you.

He grunts once more, “Mngh-” Something indiscernible, but to him it makes perfect sense.

In motions that feel like eons, he guides your hands - as light as feathers - to place them upon his own chest. Where you could feel a beating heart.

Ba-dump—!

Racing.

Heaving chest. Bleeding stitches.

And you didn’t realize until then that you’d been shaking.

Eyes widened, you whisper. “Who hurt you?”

A few minutes later and you were barging into Geto Suguru’s decadent bedroom, where you found him deep in conversation with his brother - something or the other about the Royal Medical Society, not that you could give a damn right about now.

“The man!” You’re calling out, uncaring whether you interrupt. You feel so faint that you have to lean against the doorway to fully speak, “The man-”

Geto’s mouth parts, “You saw him…”

And that’s what keeps you walking forwards, until you’re almost nose-to-nose with Geto- and his brother is the one that has to tug you back by your elbows. “The man- is he patient? A victim?” Tone reaching something shrill that neither man has ever heard from you before, “His wounds- you wounded him like that-”

“No, no, no—” Geto’s clapping both hands on your shoulders and attempting to get you to look at him straight. But you almost couldn’t - his amethyst eyes weren’t how you remembered them, and his hair was askew. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost said that he looked crazed- “It was the world that hurt him, my dear, not I- I—” Pointing at himself now, “-merely gave him life.”

As you take a few steps backwards in shock, he’s looking at you fully.

“I gave him life.”

Later, Geto gave you a showcase of the ‘creature’ as he’d called it. He’d explained to you his rapid healing, the immense strength that seemed to have been an aftereffect of the storm. And when you’d pointedly asked him why he was chained was here-

“It doesn’t know any better-” Geto had off-handedly replied.

“But, Suguru…” You bore no mind to the hardening expression on his face, crouching down to clasp the giant’s hand. Your heart flutters as he presses your silken gloves back into your hands from where he’d removed them earlier. Caressing you, “-you know better.”

“Suguru, is he intelligent?” His brother asks, warily watching the interaction between you and…this beast. His brother had mentioned it had the mind of a twenty-eight-year-old, so did that mean he could also feel…

To which the surgeon doesn’t reply.

“Suguru, is he intelligent?”

That very night, you snuck out to meet him.

You found the giant glumly hunched over the streams that ran through the dungeon, his long fingers toying with the crisp autumn leaves that had fluttered from the surface above. You watch as he plucks them delicately by the step, chains rattling as he kisses them down onto the water below. Like a little boat that tips and rows right up to you.

He’d flinched as he saw you, you remember now.

Before you’d cast him a gentle smile, and the creation had nervously returned it.

Once you got closer, he’d reached his hand up to - trembling. Shaking at the very thought of human contact, and yet, he’d handed you—

“A leaf?” You’re breathing out in excitement, and the man looks down when you take it. “For me?”

He’d grunted in affirmation.

“Thank you.”

After a few seconds of admiring the leaf by your lantern, you’d taken it up and pressed it to your lips. Humming ever-so-slightly.

“And what can I give back to you, hm?” You’d wondered out loud, “Oh! I know—”

That night, you’d introduced yourself.

Ultimately, Geto’s brother had decided to stay and monitor the situation - and with it, you did, too. Not quite to ‘monitor the situation’ as he had put it, but rather to keep an eye on…him.

You didn’t know when ‘him’ had turned from Geto to the monster within Geto’s basement.

And yet, here you were.

It was you who visited the creation every night, sneaking out when all the lanterns had been dimmed and sleep had befallen the mansion as your only cover. You’d grip a torch of your own in one hand, and in the other would be a cup of ointment.

“Why hello—” You’d croon out, as soon as you caught sight of his hunched figure on the ground. Still chained - you were working on finding the key to it one of these days. And if worse comes to worse, you’d gnaw through those damned shackles if you had to.

You were on the verge to-

“And how have you been today?” You’d beam up at the pale figure, and he’d beam right back - all thirty-two pearly white teeth on full display. With your hands gentle on his limbs, you’re soothing your fingers underneath the unyielding gaps in the circular restraints around his wrist. Dabbing a bit of ointment on so that it would get all the purpleish skin, “Oh, that awful awful man!”

“Awful-” He’d nod, voice scratchy as it pronounced this new word. “Awful awful.”

It would make you chuckle, “And I’m just as awful, aren’t I? Only teaching you awful words?”

The creation’s eyebrows were pale, but you could still make out the way they knit together underneath the medical light. Fervently shaking his head from side to side, “Awful-” He shakes his head even harder, “Awful- not.”

“You say that I’m not awful, hm?” You bring a hand up to your mouth and titter, “Oh my, you’re quite the flatterer, aren’t you?”

And you’re not quite sure whether the giant understood what exactly that word meant, but he blushes all the way down the back of his neck like he does. Such a pretty pink. Rose pink.

Seeing it, you raise an amused brow. “Oh? Quite shy for a flatterer, hm?” Without thinking much of it - and oh, you really should think more when it comes to him - you reach out and glide the softness of your fingertips down his smooth neck. “No, it’s more like you’re just…sweet?”

With a shiver, he’s leaning up to your touch. “Sweet- sweet. My love- sweet.”

And there was that.

You’re not quite sure where he’d learned that particular pet name - my love - or whether it was a creation of his own beautiful mind. But he’d started to refer to you by it a few days ago, and had preferred it to your name ever since.

You’re reaching your hand back- only for him to clasp your fingers once more with his. Only to put them on his body once more.

With a kindly smile, you repeat your name.

“My love.” His gruff voice answers.

And you repeat it.

“My love.”

And you repeat it.

“My love.”

With such a fond sigh, you try to take a different route. “Geto Suguru.”

“Awful, awful man.”

“Hah! Well, at least you have the merit to get that one correct, hm?” You’re humming at him, and removing your hands from his neck to play with his massive fingers instead. The both of you were sitting facing each other, upon the cold marble ledge that Geto had intended to serve as his creation’s bed, you suppose. A sudden idea pops into your mind, “And what about your name?”

He cocks his head, “My love?”

“That’s my name, isn’t it?” You shake your head, tracing out the letters of both your actual name and his lil’ nickname on the surface of his palm. Once you’re done, you close his palm. “What about your name?”

“My…” He starts, and something seems to strangle at the back of his throat. It must be difficult, you guess, to speak out of a voicebox that was not your own. “Sa—weet.”

“Sweet?” You ask.

The giant lightly grunts, “Sa…sweet- Sat—weet.” He shakes his head, and you could practically feel the frustration that radiated off of him.

“Hey hey—” You thumb down his palm once more, and he’s looking up at you with such depth. Such raw emotion in those summer-blue eyes; still unprotected from the roughness of a world that has been nothing but cruel to him. Cooing, “It’s alright—you can take your time.”

“Sa-weet.” He’s croaking out once more, one hand coming up to his throat- and the other hand pressing into your open palm. He draws out the letters that he was aiming to speak into existence. “Sa…to—ru.”

Your eyes widen in shock at his decision, and he looks at you intently.

“Sa—to—ru.” Patterning out two more syllables, “Go—jo.”

“Gojo Satoru?” You ask the man who has picked his own name.

“Gojo Satoru.” He repeats, still slightly rough around the edges. And the giant- Gojo, breaks out into a smile that feels like sunlight against your skin. And his hand- it ends up cupping your cheek, he presses his cold forehead to yours. Breathing you in. “Gojo Satoru, my love.”

You swear you’ve never felt your heart race faster.

After that particular night, you’d taken it upon yourself to teach Gojo as much of the language as you could.

Night after night, you lugged down - not just ointment and your lamp now - books as well. If there was one blessing in this entire laboratory, then it was the fact that its libraries were generous with their bounty for you to raid. And for Gojo, as well.

Gojo—you supposed there were two blessings in this laboratory, after all.

It was tragedy after romance novel after historical novel that the two of you swept through.

You’d read in your lilting voice, and Gojo would listen - sometimes with his eyes peacefully shut, and his breath evening out so that you weren’t sure whether he was asleep or not. And whenever you stopped to check- he never was.

He’d peer at you with wide blue eyes and query, “My love?” And that was all it took to get you reading again, no matter how scratchy your voicebox felt.

You’d found that Gojo was partial to romance novels the most (yes, even the somewhat…steamier ones), and he vengefully loved a good tragedy, too (though you’d have to let him hold you afterwards, face pushed into the crook of your neck, and his large tears wetting your thin night gown). “You would never-” He’d gasp out through powerful sobs, always feeling pain so deep. “You will always stay by my side, my love?”

“Always.”

He’d lace his dominant hand with yours, “Always- always.” Pressing his forehead to yours once more, lips mere centimeters away. You could taste his icy breath, “I belong with you.”

Times like this you almost remembered why Geto kept calling Gojo ‘The Strongest’, because even his slightest hold would be enough to make your joints pop!

But then his teary eyes would take in the split-second wince on your face, and he’d immediately be loosening his grip once more.

He was never just The Strongest to you.

He picked up on language quickly, given that he had the mind of a twenty-eight-year-old. It was as if he’d just been borne into existence as such, merely manifested.

A man in every way except how his creator treated him.

You admit that you didn’t get much sleep during those golden weeks- hell, your fiancé had started questioning whether you were ill after overseeing your bouts of sleepiness during the morning. And you had an inkling that Geto had already guessed, by the way that he’d been staring at you from afar…but he hadn’t caused trouble for you.

Just yet.

You remember that night as if it was just yesterday - it was your last night with Gojo Satoru, of course.

You’d spent particularly long in the dungeon with him that night, even after reading your book you’d stayed behind to simply converse with the gentle giant, all the while tugging and fidgeting with his shackles in an attempt to somehow break them free.

Break him free.

“My love?” Gojo’s asking in his husky voice, ragged. He peers down through his long lashes at what exactly you were doing with his hands - and he lets you do whatever you want. It was you, you could do anything to him. Anything.

You’re looking up at his coos, “Oh- my apologies, Gojo-”

“Satoru.”

“Satoru.” You manage a smile at his tenacity, “Was I hurting you?”

“No.”

“And you’re not lying.”

“No.”

“And you would tell me if I was the one hurting you?”

“…No.”

He grins at your exasperation - it’s true, the way you rolled your eyes with a groan was highly unlady-like, but you didn’t quite care when you were with him. When you were with him, you didn’t quite care about anything else, to be honest. “Oh, Satoru—” You’re cupping his gorgeous face, finally letting go of those restraints that bothered you so much. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Mn.” He grunts, leaning his head in real close so that he could sniff at the flowery scent of your hair. “My love—” Hushly whispering out, “My love, my love, my love.”

“Satoru.” You’re breathing out, equally as quiet.

And then he’s tugging on his restraints, letting some of the screws fall off - easily, considering your tampering all these past few weeks - only to loop his strong arms as much as he could around you. You’re being pulled to his firm chest, feeling each rippling muscle through your thin nightgown. “My love—my love.” It’s like gospel to him.

Your mouth parts ever-so-slightly, something heating up within you. And looking deep into his dilated eyes, you attempt to say something. “Satoru, I…”

He presses his lips to yours in an instant.

In that gaze of his, you saw a need that matched yours.

In that distance of his, you heard the tearing of restraints.

.

“O-oh—” You’re cupping a hand over your gaping mouth, voice heightening the very second that Gojo’s able to get his ravenous hands on you.

The very second that he’s shoving your nightgown further up your body, bearing your body exposed.

For him…he’s running his jittering palms down both of your breasts. For him for—where your stomach was, down both sides of your hips. For him for him for him. Down to your legs where he’d missed a key part of you.

But before you can huff out in need, Gojo’s scooping you up in his arms and gently splaying you out on his marble bed. The surface is quite frigid against your back, and it makes you inadvertently smear your legs all open.

Oh-so-lecherously open.

All Gojo needs it so take a mere whiff before he’s salivating down his chin at the smell of your sweet, sweet pussy. You’re watching him wipe away the burnished lacquer of spittle with the back of his hand-

“I never…” He’s gasping out, each word guttural and chopped as if being wrenched from the very back of his throat. Gojo hoists himself onto the bed, and towers above you casually. “In all my time here, I’ve yet to feel real h-hunger, my love.”

You supposed that was because of his superhuman body, and you’re wondering why he’s telling you this right now. “I’m…glad, Satoru. Would you like me to perhaps bring you something different next ti-”

“But now, I’ve never felt more starved in my life.”

Oh—

And before you know it, he’s moving. He’s moving his head down until it was nothing but a blur of white and pure carnal need.

Darting straight towards the target of your pretty pussy-

You were just drippin’ wet by this point, and Gojo doesn’t even warn you before he’s surging his nose deep between your pussy and aiming to lick away every single sopping ounce.

“O-oh—fuck!” You’re squealing out, the moment you feel his wet tastebuds sizzle against your core. Gojo was just swiping the pinkish tip of his crown between your pussylips and lavishing it all over in precisely the way he’d eat his favorite dessert. His favorite strawberry. His favorite cream pie. “I s-swear I got you enough of those sweets you love tonight-”

“But not this one.”

And you don’t know exactly what parts Geto had fitted onto his body- but Gojo’s savoring tongue just felt so looooong. Famished. Ramming it into every tiny nook n’ cranny of your outer pussy, forcing his face even deeper between your pretty legs. “Oh, I’ve yet to taste something so sweet.”

Those wads of your slick clung onto the lower half of Gojo’s handsome face, making it look as though he’d just dunked his head into a pool. And the more you’re attempting to push away his sweaty bangs and take a good look at him, the further he’s rovering. “Fuh-fuck, Satoru- oh my god, Satoru, slow down.” You’re panting, “You need to breathe-”

“Is it entirely necessary?”

And yet, it still wasn’t enough for him.

You don’t even know how but he was so dexterous opening you up.

Swirlin’ aside your puffy folds so that he could get to your hole - start filling up your hole.

Pushing and pushing and pushing—

Gojo huffs through his nostrils - right up against your swollen clit - when your snug channel naturally resists the intrusion. He couldn’t fit in more than an inch of his prolonged tongue, and the challenge makes him furrow his snowy brows. “Why isn’t it…” Almost muttering to himself, before he’s spitting a slick wad of saliva straight down onto your core. Splat! “Is this it—? Will this work-”

And then with both knobbly edges of his thumbs pryin’ aside your pussylips, he’s attempting to shovel even more of his tongue inside. “Oh heavens- Satoru, what did I tell you about breathing-”

“But s’just not fitting, my love.” Ah- at this point, his words were just slurred. And you swear his kiss-bitten lip pops out in what looked like a pout. “I don’t care if I don’t breathe if it just- hah, doesn’t go in-”

As if to prove his point, Gojo’s staring straight into your dazed eyes whilst he fucks your pussy with his tongue. Sharp jawline hanging wide open, slithering the pinkish edge of his tongue ‘round and ‘rooooound your hole a few times.

Before he hiccups, “S-see?” Just so sloppily, the giant is attempting to flop his thick muscle inside your leaky entrance. “S’not going in s’not going in- and fuck! how badly I want it to go in…”

“Oh, fuck…” You breathe, “I really am a bad influence- now I have you cussing from that pretty mouth.”

He was also whining into your cunt from that pretty mouth, begging you to take him more seriously. With both of his overlarge palms flattened on your thighs, Gojo’s just slightly slipping on the sheen of slick plastered to your skin as he spreads you all the more open for him. Like a feast-

“Well, if you really want to- hngh!” Just as you begin to speak, he’s funneling his tongue an inch or two deeper. The most sleazy expression upon Gojo’s face as his wet muscle reels back- only to do it all over again. “How cheeky, Satoru- if you really want to fit it a-all in, then you have to stretch me, y’know?”

“Streeetch?” Gojo blubbers out between your pussylips, his maw practically glued to your core by now. It was just too cute the way you’d splash all over him whenever he sent those vibrations right up your cunt, and he looked down at your entrance in interest. “So like- thiiiiiiis?”

“Oh fuuuuuck—” With your voice crackling as you keen, you’re immediately letting your body arch into the most perfect curvature.

Because Gojo Satoru had his rough index and thumb pinched over your puffy clit and drag-drag-draaaaagging that nub. Zaps of pleasure make you see white as he rolls it between both digits, “Like this, my love?” Gojo’s whispering, “Or—more-”

“Yes- no- yes.” By now, you can’t do anything but buck- oh, how did it get to this? He’s been the one that was easily pussydrunk with only a few laps, but now you were the one reaping its consequences.

Purely speechless on the way he was teasin’ your pretty clit, you’re reaching your dominant hand down and gripping onto Gojo’s white locks. Roughly - but if the way he purely moaned when he felt the sensation was anything to go by, then he loved it. “Yes, like that- ngh. But that’s not exactly what I meant, Satoru.”

“What did you mean then, my love?” He’s asking, eagerly.

And a faint satisfaction washes over you at the fact that you’re going to be the one to teach Gojo Satoru how to play with your pussy.

You flutter your lashes down at him, “First lesson is- you have to get me wet enough.” Not that he quite needed that lesson, for you were wet enough that your sap was oozing out of you and sticking onto his face in oodles by now.

But it just feels so good having him purse his rosy lips and splattering a straight ribbon down onto your cunt, smearing it with none other than his lips. “And then?”

“S-second lesson-” Shivering, you’re tugging his face closer - and The Strongest lets you. “Take it sloooow and easy with that tongue, Satoru. Just like- mmm, fuck!” But just a singular lap at your treacly pussy, and Gojo was all but plastered to it.

Lavishing your front with licks. Swiping and snapping his tongue allllll over every crevice.

He was letting his tastebuds enter wherever you’d let him, blue peripherals rolling right to the back of his skull at the candied taste that was filling his throat. And Gojo has the audacity to fight against it and whine when you’re briefly attempting to tug him off, “Just one more-” He pants out, with a wettened plop! when he attaches his maw to your cunt once more. “One more lick-” And once more. “Just one more taste-” And once more. “One more sweet kiss-”

And once more.

Eventually you can’t do anything but throw your head back and shrill—“Not adequately following the lessons will result in- in barring you from my pussy-”

And then he’s removing himself with a gasp! “No- no no no no-” Grabbing onto either side of your waist - and you’re unsure whether that’s to keep himself at bay, or to keep you from running away. “Please don’t- I beg of you, please don’t. I need this pretty pussy, my love…”

“Then you’ll listen, hm?” You ask, to which the powerful being doggedly nods. “Alright then, commencing- he second lesson is to take it slow with your tongue. Just stretch out my entrance—oh.”

And this time his tastebuds were sizzling against yours in slow, sensual motions. In circles and cute hearts- you swear your pupils were dazedly following along with the movements within the whites of your eyes.

“Like- like this, my love?” He eagerly pants out, scorching breath hitting you from all angles. Luxuriously salivating into every tiny crevice within your channel- not just impatiently trying to fit in. Slick and satisfying with his plump tip squeezin’ inside. “Is this, mmmm, adequate enough for you?”

“Yes- yes yes yes.” You’re moaning with your head thrown back, “And now ngh, if you could just put your fingers on my clit now…”

“Is that a lesson?” Genuinely asking - he’s raising a pale brow, wafting his hand closer and closer to where you wanted him the most. Genuinely letting his mouth water at the notion - “Oh, please let that be a lesson- please. I love this cute lil’ clit.”

You’re nodding your head along with just as much desperation, “Yes- fuck yes, it’s a lesson.”

And the words have barely even left your mouth, you’ve barely even thought to close your gaping mouth - before Gojo’s cupping your cunt with highly-trained reflexes and teasin’ your clit. His lengthy fingers roll over that knobbly nub, in circular motions that make you buck atop him-

“Oh- oh look—” He’s marveling out at something, awe-struck. It takes you every shred of will in your body to actually tilt your head downwards and see what he was talking about. And Gojo? Gojo was just fixated on the sultry way that his tongue was shovelling even deeper between your pussylips, the friction letting his tastebuds massage your velvety walls. “Look it actually works- ngh, your lessons are benefiting me- ngh, quite greatly, my love.”

“Happy to help…” Blearily, you’re rutting your hips up in a sloppy staccato to chase that white-hot pleasure thrumming in your veins.

Something that Gojo happily welcomes, if the way he was roverin’ his sweaty head even closer told you anything. “And then?” He pants out, his nose rubbin’ all over the leaky slit of your cunt. “And then what- what next, my love, what next? Anything to do with this sweet pussy drives me wild.”

You take one look into his darkened eyes - blue irises damn near black by now - and shiver. “And lesson number…”

“Four.”

“Four is that you can t-try to use your fingers to help fit inside.” One more look- though, this time it’s at Gojo’s incredibly-sized fingertips. Far larger than any other human man, and the way they just curved dexterously inwards made you want to gulp. “Slowly, however.”

He purrs, “Slowly it is, my love.”

And you might have made Gojo Satoru agree to slowly—but you didn’t speak a word of him being nice, did you?

Within mere sultry seconds, he has the tip of his middle hooked ‘round the rim of your entrance. Using slight strength, Gojo’s stretching you wiiiide open- “Oh.” Gasping straight into the quivering orifice of your hole. “Oh, my love, you’re right.”

He’s then jutting his pointed chin straight between your puffy pussylips, letting his long tongue splosh! inside. “You’re right- it really does go even deeper. Oh, I wonder what it should be like if I put two fingers in-”

“T-two of your fingers?” You’re snapping your head up to gawp.

“Oh, but don’t worry.” Gojo shoots you a dazzling smile - literally, he was drenched in so many candied layers of your slick. Intently, “I’ll be reeeeeal slow.”

“O-oh, fuck.”

He’s swabbin’ away two of his doughy fingertips- right along with his tongue now. Again. And again. And again and again. Pressing into every speck and spot inside of you, Gojo’s digits manage to scissor your channel wide open, whilst the texture of his tastebuds were creating a feral sort of texture that drove you wild.

Spittle dangles down the side of your maw, “Oh- oh my god.” Babbling away almost nonsensically, just the most sinful noises leave you any time that Gojo was thrusting his thick digits in and out. In and out. In and out. “Oh heavens, I’ve never felt something so gooood, Toru.”

“Mmm, and that sounds good.” The tips of his ears blush a cute crimson shyly at the nickname - all the while he had his face nose-deep into your cunt and lapping you like a madman.

Sticking his fat tongue in every time he fingered open your cunt, hooking his muscle up to your gooey roof. Shoving. Shoving. So hard that glittery speckles of your slick escape and strike the tops of his cheekbones. And he just couldn’t get enough- with a growl he’s dragging you back mercilessly in for even more.

Adding in a third finger—

“Sh-shiiiit, Satoru-” You’re all but bawling, “I don’t think m’gonna last too long-”

“And the fifth lesson?” He’s hissing out in response, just as urgent as you. With his honed senses, he could practically smell the pure carnal need in your pheromones, “What should be the fifth lesson, my love? Please, I must hear it with my own two ears- I must-”

“The f-fifth lesson…” Head dizzy. Pupils whirling. “The fifth lesson s’to make me cum, Satoru.”

And he doesn’t think he’s heard sweeter words.

With a particularly haaaaard push of his fingers, all the way down to his bases, Gojo’s sticking his rounded fingertips straight against your throbbing g-spot. Where you’d been waiting for him for so long. Where he barely even has to graze that awaiting spot before you’re bursting into your sudden high.

“C-cumming—” Your shrill voice echoes out in the dungeon - not that you cared at this point. And your body unlatches from the now-warm bed to riiiide all of Gojo’s pretty face through your high, “M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming, Toru.”

“And s’all because of me-”

Proudly, Gojo’s letting himself be used to cover your sweet, sweet sensations of bliss. Any time he could feel your geysering orifice clench ‘round him- he’s only thrusting his fingers in harder.

Only licking over your bundle of nerves even more.

Slurp-slurp-slurp—you’re barely even midway through your wave of euphoria before Gojo finds himself already finished licking up your beaded ounces of slick. And without a second thought, he’s shoving himself back in between your legs with his tongue mazin’ inside. “Should be able to fit myself in- hah- now, huh?” He murmurs to himself, through just the slightest muffled gaps between his maw and his cunt. “Go inside- go inside go inside go inside-”

You’re strangling out a squeal as he ends up bottoming out his lengthy tongue, “So much of you…ngh, Toru, you fill me up like nothing else-” Thrust after thrust after thrust.

“And it’s the only thing I want to do.” Hammering away where you were the most sensitive. “To bring your pretty pussy so much loving.”

Before Gojo finds himself stuffing your cunt to the brim with his fingers and his tongue- and you’re barely through with your first high before already bursting into your second.

This one was unexpected, and it explodes through your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Your entire body heating up about several more degrees, just like putty ‘round his constantly hitting digits - with such precision whenever he’s striking your g-spot.

It passes through in synchronization with your initial orgasm, a brief flash behind your eyelids- before it’s petering out to nothing but a few overstimulated zings!

“P-please-” You sob out, clawing at his perspired scalp. “I don’t think I can cum again, Satoru- fuck, I don’t possess the stamina for that-”

“You do not?” Genuinely in disbelief.

“You’re just much more- ngh, enduring than me.” Blurting out, and it takes you both of your hands to even nudge Gojo away from where he was wetting your orifice with his tongue. All over again, as though he was still set on the idea of tugging out a third orgasm from you. “But if we do it now, then I’ll let you put something else in my-”

He unglues from your pussy with a loud, lecherous mwah!

“As you wish, my love.”

Oh—and then you’re being manhandled. You thought that Gojo Satoru was being feral with you before?

Not at all, you’re actually realizing that he’d been going easy on you. He’d been holding himself back. So fast that you barely even register what’s happening, Gojo’s rip-rip-riiiiipping your poor nightgown straight down the middle, throwing it somewhere behind him.

Raising himself up on his haunches. And then a hand falls to the robe around his pelvis-

“Oh my…” You’re squeaking out in surprise, eyes widening as the white fabric unravels for Gojo to reveal himself completely. Even when he had that on, you’d assumed that he was quite…sizeable - it was only pertinent, after all, the rest of him was quite exceptional in size as well - height, weight, power.

But this?

This just made your jaw drop, and your mind immediately goes to curse at the man that had created him. Eyes greedily following the stitches that held together his muscular torso and v-line, you can’t help but let them dip lower…and lower…and lower.

The prominent stitches between his lower and upper halves.

Those ladder-like abs that decorated his core.

The trail of his white happy trail.

The base where they ended in a thick cock.

Long.

With a handful of veins starting out from his pelvis, and snaking all the way down his nine - perhaps even ten - inches. They loop all over his shaft, so hard that you could visibly count every throb. As if all the blood had left his man-made body and ended up in his cock.

Ended up in his blushin’ red tip that glazed with a fresh lacquer of precum. Twitching at the intensity of your stare-

“I-is something the matter, my love?” Gojo interrupts your ogling, “Is something not to your liking- oh, is it because eating you out made me cum just a lil’ bit?”

Your mouth opens, but you don’t know what to say.

And Gojo’s swipin’ his thumb down his mushroomy tip, smearing away a few remnant beads of white. “Because I apologize that I’m so weak for-”

“No!” You’re interrupting his apology instantly - he had absolutely nothing to apologize for. In fact…you rather found it pleasurable that making out with your pussy made him cream right in his pants. Clearing your throat, “No- you don’t have to apologize for anything, Satoru. It’s just…”

“Yes?”

“You’re so big.”

“Oh.” He looks down at himself as if he never realized- and when he looks up, you’re jolted to your very core to realize that Gojo Satoru was smiling. “As long as we have the five rules, right?”

“R-right- oh.”

The confirmation is barely letting off from your lips before Gojo’s hulking figure grabs at your squirmy body and slap-slap-slaps! his creamy tip between your folds. Just nudgin’ away the curvature of his tip between them, he gets a taste of your heated cunt and all but breaks.

Shivers. Shatters.

He unfastens his mouth as if he was about to say something- before immediately gnawing down on his lower lip and rutting. Like an animal.

Like he was in fucking heat—Gojo’s attempting to swirl his strawberry divot inside. “Oh—oh…” He grunts out something primal from the back of his throat, every slight buck between your legs making Gojo let off a pained noise - he needed to be inside you right now. “Oh- so this is what a pretty pussy feels like. This is what your pretty pussy feels like-”

“Aaaand?” You’re cooing out, wrangling onto his sculptured deltoids. “How does it f-”

“Like heaven.”

He’s managing to bully in a single inch inside your tight cunt- completely forgetting whatever sinful ‘lessons’ you’d just taught him moments prior. Just that pussydrunk.

And just the first measurement of his swollen, fattened cock inside your pussy - just the first sensation of your walls all wrapped around his cock…

And you think you might just have broken The Strongest.

Because Gojo’s then throwing his head back and cumming- dolloping out a thick layer of his sap deeeep inside where you could feel it move about. His honed tip enters your hole perfectly, layering out his slick.

“C-cum—ngh.” Just the cutest noises leave him, and you swear you’re catching his face stain with a single tear or two just at the sensation of putting it inside. “M’cumming.”

“I- hah- know, Toru.” Fuck…you shouldn’t have said that. Because that only makes his twitchy tip flinch just a bit more inside your walls before beading out his hot pearly cum, the slickness of it already overspilling from your entrance.

That cascade of liquid echoes out just the slightest sultry noise - the slightest.

And yet Gojo’s snapping a single look down your glistening cunt and giggling—“S-so that’s what it is.” He’s rasping out- goosebumps skitter all across your body as you register the way his tone sounded…octaves higher. Sounded as if he was almost crazed.

Without any warning, he’s then lightly easing his shivering hips back and shoving- “So tha’s what it is. So tha’s what it is. Why h-has it never occurred to me prior?” Fucking his gooey wads back in. You weren’t sure whether he was talking to you or himself, before he’s plunging out a few more vulgar strikes with just his dribblin’ rose-colored tip. “That’s what it is, my love.”

“What is- hngh, what-” That final sentence of his was punctuated by the sloppiest stripes of pre, taken inside your channel with slurping noises.

He’s boring straight into your eyes with his dilated pupils. Almost glowing. Almost animalistic. Before you’re able to repeat your question once more- Gojo’s clogging up your throat with his hammerin’ away. Nothing more than three inches inside of you (for now) and still rendering you stupid. “It’s that… One of his hands claws down your front, feeling for himself as he sinks in. “I don’t know if I believe in any h-higher power, but if I did—then it’d be you, my love.”

“Oh my- fuck!” Both that hand on your stomach and his free one then grope onto your hips and slam you down to meet his greedy hips.

“It would be you-” He’s panting out, his own personal chant. Through half-lidded eyes, Gojo watches the way his thickened cock slips n’ slides into your tight orifice. Cum and slick pouring out like madness, “It would be this pretty pussy- oh, the way she’s taking me- I could worship your cunt every single day of my life and die with no regrets.”

Panting out, “D-don’t say that-”

You could feel him enveloping every single hidden sweet spot inside of your walls, Gojo didn’t even have to try to get his flared ridge to open you up juuust right. “I will.” He seethes, something absolutely ruined in his tone- you might just be right in thinking that you’ve broken him. “I will- unless you command it, my goddess.”

“O-oh my—fuck.” With your back arching into Gojo’s sculpted front - all toned abs and rippling obliques - you felt as though you were at his complete mercy. “Do you- do you even remember the lessons, Satoru-”

“Of course, I remember the lessons.”

His tone was one that was offended you should even ask.

And with his nose crinkled handsomely in slight concentration, Gojo’s then rattling off those very lessons - while doing his very best to disregard them. “First- hah, first lesson is to get your pussy wet enough.”

“And?” You’re raising a brow, just to see what he would do.

“And…” Gojo lays his eyes down on the vision of your glistening cunt and almost snickers - you were just so aroused that your pussylips were shimmering with your sweet, sweet sap. He then proceeds to crane his neck down and still spit a great glob of saliva down onto your cunt. “-completed.”

“Oh—” He was checking those lessons off like boxes. You just wondered what would be there for you by the very end.

“Second lesson-” Gojo continues, “-take it sloooooow and easy.”

You nod, “S-slow and easy.”

“Oh, but how m’I expected to when your pussy fuh-feels like ngh- this, my love?” He’s genuinely pondering, with his brows knitted and his tongue darting out in thought. “It just feels so good that- hck! slowing down should be punishable by the law. I would rather be chained and whipped than slow do-”

“Satoru!”

And you can only watch as Gojo’s eyes brighten up, “Oh! I know-”

That’s when he’s easing the sinking of his cock—eeeeeasing, ever-so-slightly. Just for a laaaaanguid stroke, two, three, four-

Before you’re once more being pounded silly by his massive intrusion, “There- there.” Gojo babbles out with a pussydrunken smile, all dopey and blushing. “I took it slow and easy- fuck, it even had me fitting in an inch more, my love, did your pussy notice?”

“Fuck yes, I did.” You’re whining, arching your hips up into his. “And now you’re going- fuck, you’re going so f-fast again-”

“Well, you never proclaimed that I must go slowly the entire time.” Basking in his own personal victory, the loophole he’d discovered, he accelerates his hips even more. The rotund crown of his tip poking into you viciously, “Rather an oversight on your hngh- part, don’t you think, my love?”

“Rather, yes.”

“But it’s alright-” He nuzzles you with his attractive nose, “-I should do well to excel in the third lesson. The ah-”

“F-fingers on my clit.”

But of course, Gojo Satoru didn’t forget. Of course he merely wanted to hear you say it in that pretty, whiny voice of yours whilst you were being fucked by him- “What was that?” Gojo cranes his head down, the tips of his bangs tickling your face. “I’m afraid I cannot hear you clearly over your cunt-”

“Fingers on my, mmm, clit!” You’re yelping out, “I want your fingers on my-”

“Oh, you never need to beg with me, my love.”

Such a tease- when did your sweet Gojo become such a tease? Become so damn mean? Snickering at the look on your face, he reaches down and gently pinches your clit.

Moaning at the lewd way you buck, “Ah- is that not adequate enough? Do you wish for mooooore?”

“Yes, more-” You’re gasping, “More more more more-”

“Oh.” And it makes a part of his over-hard cock jolt right against your walls, burying himself just a few more inches down your walls. “As you wish, my love.”

The flatness of Gojo’s thumb was now glued to your nub, and you’re seeing white at the sheer amount of pressure being put on your lower half. He runs a hand across your drivelling wet cunt, right atop your folds, in-between your slit, snaggin’ apart your cute clit and pressing down-down-down.

“Reminds me of your other lesson.” He coos out, shivering at the lecherous way your expression twists every time his bulbous tip entered you. “Reminds me to- hah, to use my—fingers.”

“Toru, for this I don’t believe you need to—mmmpf, fuck.”

You’re biting back your words- in fact, your words are being fucked right back into you. “The fourth- hah, fourth lesson.” Gojo’s whispering as his thumb darts down in rubbing motions from your clit and to your hole. “The fourth lesson the- ngh, the fourth.” Almost reminding himself, almost holding himself back whenever his fingertip was getting a taste of your sweetened cunt-

And he’s reeling that hand upwards to lick off the polished wet excess.

With those tips of his now coated in a gleaming layer of saliva, Gojo manages to curl his thumb inside and pry apart your entrance a lil’ further. Just a lil’ more.

Just enough for him to give you another hard push and finally bottom-out.

His tufts of pearly white curls scritch-scratch against your cunt, and you’re driven absolutely crazy by the carnal feeling of having all of Gojo Satoru deep and throbbing inside of you. He’s managing to fill out every single crevice like never before, a loooooong length that ends with his reddish tip kissin’ at your spongy cervix.

“O-oh my fuck-” Even as you breathe, you can feel him stuffed inside of you. You try to run your palm down your front, and you swear you can almost feel him from the outside.

The giant sploshes out a hefty wad of pre that adds to the mess already leaking out of you - and you might have thought that Gojo would feel awe-struck at the filthy sight below you, you might have thought that Gojo would babble away at it.

But instead he’s just so…quiet.

Gojo Satoru has his head hunched, his ivory bangs covering his eyes, his biceps quivering as if they were on the verge of collapsing—

You take in the sheer amount of his ragged breaths, as if he’d just run across town five hundred times. “Satoru-” You tug on his shoulders- and when that doesn’t rouse him, you’re moving onto shifting apart his bangs to take a good look at his flushed face. “Satoru, are you okay- oh, shit.”

One look into his eyes.

One look into his drunken, predatory eyes-

And that’s all it takes for Gojo Satoru’s entire body to jolt- for Gojo Satoru’s entire body to be electrified as if he’d just been brought to life a thousand times over. Startled into motion. Breaths catching.

He’s moving mechanically, robotically, to throw both your legs over his broad shoulders and suddenly bend, bend, bend, bend—

“I don’t even know what I’m doing.” He utters out into the saturated air, words nothing but a whisper. Eyes wide. Mouth gaped. A slow dribble of saliva down the side of his mouth gives you the urge to lick it off- but before you can do anything about that temptation, Gojo’s rutting—using that kinetic force to push you even deeper in half. “I don’t even know what I’m doing-”

Till your knees hit your tits, and your chin hits your collarbones.

And you can only cry out as Gojo fucks you at a constant rhythm, feral. “You- you don’t realize that you’ve just folded me into the hck! meanest mating press, Toru?”

“No.”

He’s bullying his hot girth into you- thump-thump-thumping away directly near the back of your womb. And if that wasn’t enough, his split-ended tip found itself grazing your favorite g-spot as well, again. And again. And again and again and again.

“I don’t even know why- ngh.” He’s choking up at the feeling of your walls closing in on him, your sopping pussy holding him completely hostage by this point. One hand of his was rolling his fingers over your clit, and the other glides down your core. “I don’t know why it’s just…”

You’re gulping once his hand comes to a stop right above where his bulbous tip was ending out at your cervix. Thudding away-

“-m’getting this sudden urge to breed you, my love.”

Oh.

And perhaps it was the feeling of his perfectly vein-decorated cock getting to you, perhaps it was the way his probin’ eyes felt almost hypnotic. And yet you can’t help but open your mouth with a whiny- “Yes.” Locking your ankles firmly ‘round his neck, he’s ramming and ramming his hips into yours with a groan. “Breed me then, Satoru. Give me your- hck! child.”

“Oh, my love…” Gojo’s spit-slicked maw drops. “Oh, my heaven- oh, my life—” His forehead plasters against yours, scalding breath fanning your face. “You’d be lucky if I gave you just one.”

“I p-presume I won’t be making it out of this alive-”

Gojo doesn’t confirm nor deny, only drilling into you like such a madman.

It was in his natural instinct to breed you until his silvery tip felt all red and raw. The only thing he had to do was bottom-out at the spongy layer of your womb to activate that carnal part of him that wanted to see you all round n’ glowing with his child.

With his strings of precum splashing out at the bottom of your cunt as if a premonition of something much stronger. And Gojo can only plant smack after smack of his rounded, ruby-red tip at the base of your pussy. Those goopy layers suckin’ him in- “Haaaah, m’not even completely certain that it can be done.” He admits, thoroughly pressuring his hips against yours. “And yet- I hope you know that I won’t be letting you go until we make it happen…?”

“Make it happen?” You gulp.

“Mhmmm—I’ll stay here and pound you against this marble as long as I need to. Won’t stop even when your gorgeous shape’s dug into the stone, if by then you’re still not p-pregnant.” Such filthy words, and after each syllable he places a solid sultry flick upon your clit.

It makes you dribble out your sap like a faucet, “If I can’t sense your pretty cunt taking my seed. If I can feel the space inside of you. If you aren’t all full and choking on my cum-” Free hand coming up to draw a line across your airway, “-right up to here. If you don’t have trouble speaking—then we’re repeating it all over again.”

You shiver at his words, “Oh fuh-fuck, Toru, I don’t think m’gonna last very long.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s tittering, “Tha’s not gonna make me stop, my love- I apologize- it just feels too good. Just gets me too addicted that I—ngh.” His brows furrow, head throwing back- “Don’t even think about trying to get me to pull out before I’ve done all I’ve promised-”

“Sa-toru!” You’re dragging out your words, feeling lightheaded with the constant thumping of pleasure taking over your fuzzy brain.

“Oh but- but don’t think that doesn’t mean m’that gone on this cunt…well, I do confess that I am.” He’s gently tugging on your clit, and breaking out into an accomplished smile. “But worry not, I still r-remember your lessons—”

You’re cracking your eyes open, almost delirious. “You…do?”

“Mhm—” He leans down, and plants a gentle peck on your lips. “Fifth lesson.”

And it’s exactly then that Gojo Satoru fucks you straight into your high- stark against your tizzy pleasure, scorching hot. The electricity of your orgasm rips right through your body, frying your veins with the sheer bliss-

“Fifth lesson, always make you cum.” He’s repeating as if a mantra, and you’re clutching his scarred back for dear life as Gojo’s lengthy shaft digs against your every tiny orifice inside. Somehow, he’s mapped out your g-spot perfectly - swabbin’ that exact spot in the same sloppy tandem as his fingers on your clit. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump! “Always make you cum- hah, always- always-”

“W-want you to cum, too, Satoru.” You blink up tearily at him, wriggling your hips. You moan at the feeling of his flared ridge stirrin’ your tender insides, “Inside- please?”

He breathes out, “Has…has anyone ever cum in-”

“No.” You’re tugging him into a kiss, and it somehow seems to heat your body up even further. “Just you.”

And it’s all that needs to be said for Gojo to finally finish out.

Pouring out long clingy streaks of his cum, that ivory sap sticks against your walls and sensually slides down to your womb- hot and sticky. Balls clenching. Heavy. So much of it- the sheer volume is a sensation that only adds onto the shakes of your own orgasm.

Your toes curl, and you swear you could almost taste the sticky sweetness of the puddle he was swirlin’ out at your very base. With all his throbbing inches shoved in tight—and your teeth set on edge after each ba-thump! of hot sap.

He’s riding both yours and his on your pretty lil’ cunt, “Just me-” Parched lips whispering. With brazen eyes, Gojo looks down at your core and pat-pat-pats above where he was spurting out his sap. “Just me, just me- just me—”

As Gojo’s voice breaks out, you’re peering up at him. “Satoru-”

“And is it…” He’s finishing off his train of thought from earlier, still muddled by the feeling of your sopping wet cunt- the crackles of his high. They make every hair on his body stand on end, spine arching into your body. “-is it just me that belongs to you, my love?”

You whine when his slightly-changing position makes his globular tip swab even further inwards to mess up your insides. “Oh, Toru, you don’t belong to me.” You tell him, and the corners of his lips almost downturn in sadness. “You’re mine, if you hah- want to be-”

“I do.” Gojo answers, immediately.“Oh, how I do, my life.”

Beaming.

You just didn’t know that, outside, Geto had been there to hear it all.

.

In the end, it was only with the promise of bringing him more romance novels, and perhaps a few sweet treats from the kitchen, that you’d managed to detangle yourself from Gojo Satoru’s long limbs. You crept upstairs with the morning light.

Clutching onto the staircase banister with all your might, absolutely ruined.

And you were well and fully intentioned to return with the spoils of your brief respite - to be quite honest with yourself, it ached somewhere deep inside when you weren’t near him. And you’d just been running your mind through a few potential titles that he might like when you heard his voice.

Not Gojo’s, no.

Geto’s.

“You should not go near it.”

You whirl around to find him standing at the foot of the stairway, hidden in the shadows, so that you had not even noticed him with your mind full of Gojo.

Geto takes a step closer towards you, and you could feel his eyes sweep down the tattered nightgown that you help to your body, to your glistening eyes, your kissed lips. His lip curls in distaste, “You should not go near it.”

“It?” You ask, not masking your dislike.

“It, yes.” He spits, “It is dangerous-”

“He is a human being-”

“He is a monster.” And Geto Suguru has never raised his voice with you - not with you. But he can’t help but let that scratchy pitch out now, getting closer towards you with that utterly manic look in his eyes. “The Strongest- yes. I have not completely failed, but something must have gone wrong somewhere. A suture? A valve? Because he is a monster-”

“You do not know him!” Waving your lantern in his direction, he darts backwards with his eyes narrowed.

“Good God, my dear…” He starts out, slow. “If I could force myself to believe it, it would be in my inclination to see attraction in you for that thing-”

“And if so, then what?” You’re raising your head high in challenge, meeting his steely gaze dead-on. “Understanding. Pain. Intelligence. In him, I see all of those things-” The flames lick away from him, “-and I am not quite sure I see them in you, anymore.”

Geto turns his head away from you, jaw clenched. “What about what you have denied me?” And you’re not quite sure what he means in that moment, not until he spits out the very two words that haunted you for nights. “Your heart.”

“My heart.” You can’t help but laugh to yourself, fists tightening on your lamp. “Of all human anatomy, that is the organ furthest from your understanding.”

And that is where your conversation had ended.

For the night, that is.

Turning your back to Geto, you’d made your way up that grandiose staircase- towards the library, as you were intended to. You took your time perusing the titles, both in wonderment as to what Gojo might like as a pastime to forget the conversation with Geto before you met your lover. And by the time that you’d picked up a tattered old copy of Beauty and the Beast…the tower was on fire.

What happened next you remember in snapshots and screams.

Running into Geto and your fiancé in the corridor, being bodily dragged out of the burning mansion by them both, fighting your way in an attempt to get into the dungeons- and yet, you were no match for both.

You’d flung and clawed at them both.

And yet…they still let the dungeons burn.

You knew that Geto had something to do with the fire, he seemed none too miserable about losing his greatest creation. None too sorry about hearing it scream—your name, from the depths of his wounded chest, it echoed above the flames,

That, however—that made you run to the house despite the flames- it’s only with your fiancé’s help that you narrowly missed a plume of flame and heat that had been headed straight at you. And when you opened your eyes, stuck together with tears, you’d found…

Geto attempting to go inside, as well.

Frantic.

Fervent.

Flapping his coat and attempting to wade through, a single tear racing down his cheek.

What has he done?

“It’s too late now, Suguru.” You’re throwing off the other man’s arms, your cries aimed at Geto who looked on hopelessly at the maze of fire that he simply could not penetrate. “It’s too late now!”

Inevitably, you’d broken off your engagement and wished to flee the country, perhaps flee your life entirely - only, you didn’t realize that a certain scientist had much the same idea. Geto had joined you on an expedition to the North Pole a few months later, one that you’d signed up for in the hopes that the cold would perhaps numb your mind.

But when your Navy Vessel had been attacked by a hooded, inhuman figure- it was the two of you that had been left out for dead, the harbingers of such disaster. And you could only realize that Gojo was far far from numb in your mind. He was closing in on it. Just as he was closing in on you.

He was alive.

And you won’t let Geto prevent you from seeing him now.

.

“So that is why the mons…Gojo calls for ‘her’.” Nanami breathes into the ringing silence after your side of the story. He looks over at Geto, who hangs his head low, and then straight into your eyes. “He was asking for you- he was calling for you-”

“Oh-” Your hands fly up to your chest, “Surely you didn’t hurt him too badly?”

“We did not, my lady.” Nanami lies - and even if it had been false, it was only true that this creation had rapid healing. The Strongest, huh? Imagine such a thing. He takes his hat off and slightly bows before you, “We apologize that we were not there to speak with him before attacking, human to human.”

You’re managing out a slight smile, before you turn your gaze towards the haggard Geto Suguru. Who mutters to himself, “Her…so- so he really doesn’t want…”

“It’s not you he wants, Suguru. He doesn’t want revenge, he doesn’t want blood, he just wants-”

“Love.” He says the word like it pains him, looking up at you with those soft amethyst eyes for the first time in what feels like…forever. “He wants love.”

And you wanted your love, too.

The crew outside had been doing a valiant job at attempting to ignore the cracking of the frozen sea beneath them, the almost turgid shape of something attempting to claw at them from beneath the icy surface. Banging at the frost. Creating currents that sway and tip the Horisont from side to side. But once the group filters out of Nanami’s bedroom, multiple officers run up to their Captain with their worries.

“Captain, that- that thing seems to be coming back up again-”

“Our onlookers have spotted it swimming back near the ship-”

“It’s almost here!”

“Calm yourselves, calm yourselves.” The blond-haired man raises his palms to signal for silence, announcing to the entire crew. They look at you curiously, so out-of-place amongst their frantic faces, in fact- you seemed ready to leap off the side of the ship for a better look. “I am aware of the problem, and I am aware that he will be returning soon.”

“He?” Repeats Ino.

“He.” Nanami affirms, a twinkle in his eye. “And we have been quite the inhospitable hosts towards each of our guests here, and as your Captain I apologize for not correcting our behavior sooner.” And above the gasps, he continues. “Gojo Satoru is not dead. Gojo Satoru will return. And when he does-” He gestures behind at you, “-we will be letting this lovely lady off the side of the ship.”

“A sacrifice, Captain?!”

“That’s murder!”

“How could we ever possibly-”

“He’s coming.” His stern voice cuts through all, and it didn’t matter what they all had to say at this very moment. It only mattered what you had to do. “He’s coming- man the ladder.”

The crew works quickly and efficiently, and as they let that water-logged wooden ladder hit the ice below- Geto claps at your elbow with one of his shaking hands. “Are you perfectly sure-”

“Suguru.” You’re interrupting him, and it makes the taller man flinch. You smile, “I’ve never had a more foolhardy idea in my entire life.”

Somehow, somewhere, he manages to crack a smile, too.

The thunder of fists against frozen water grows louder, synchronizing with the stomp of your heartbeat as you make your way down that ladder. Biting your lips against the cold, your eyes trained on the dark mass of cloth that waded beneath the snow like a blood-thirsty shark. Ready to break free.

The moment your shoes hit the crunching snow—

CRASH!

Gasping, the ship leans over on its side as they look over the edge.

The Strongest.

All eight, loving feet of him towering before you.

Shoulders stooped. Cloak drenched. Hood obscuring. His breaths come out in uncontrolled gusts after so long beneath the water, and the breeze tickles your face as he just can’t help but bow himself closer to you.

“Let me see you.” You’re humming, reaching over with absolutely no hesitation to pull the flap of his hood off. Ice-blue eyes meet yours. Rosy pink lips wobble with emotion. And suddenly you’re looking into the very face that has haunted your daydreams for so long now, your love. Your Gojo Satoru. “Satoru.” Taking one of his overlarge hands in yours, you’re placing them to your core - beyond those extra layers of coats, the swell of your belly. The life growing within. “We’re sorry we took so long.”

His scarred body embraces you then and there, “My loves.”

A/N. Think this might be the longest fic I’ve ever written? Mayhaps??

Plagiarism not authorized.

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