Tumgik
#also satoru with his hair back and in a suit
emoreemadden · 3 days
Note
can u make a gojo fanfic where he like abuseive when he comes home to their apartment bc hes stressed out about a meeting and stuff so like he abiuses the reader while she tries to welcome him home but she starts crying infront of him but tries to hide it and goes back to making dinner then gojo go takes a shower and thinks abt it then feels bad and gets out of the shower and realises the reader made him his favorite meal and feels emevn more bad and goes to apologize also make version with no smut and one with smut pleaseee thankz
😃 oh…
anyways yeah here you go pookie <3
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Outline: Gojo isn’t trying to hurt you. It was an accident, swear.
Content Warnings: abuse, fem!reader, gojo hits reader, domestic violence, slight degradation (reader doesn’t enjoy it 😭), gojo yells at reader, use of “baby,” and “my love,” as petnames
Featuring: Gojo Satoru, fem!reader
A/N: this is the non smut one. word count: 743. btw, i don’t condone actual violence or domestic abuse yall 😭 if any of this feels familiar to you, help is available. national domestic violence hotline: 800-799-7233.
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You jump up from your seat on the couch as soon as you hear the doorknob jiggle. “You’re home!” you exclaim as your boyfriend opens the door.
You quickly run over to him, an inviting smile on your face, but he just stands at the door with an irritated expression on his face.
“Yep.” He says, tone clipped. You pause a few feet in front of him. “Is something wrong? Do you need a hug?” You ask, carefully stepping toward him.
Satoru stares at you for a good second, his eyes narrowing. “I’m fine.” He mumbles.
“Are you sure?” you pry, about to touch his bicep when he grabs your wrist. “Jesus, could you just give me a moment of peace for once?” He snaps, his grasp on your wrist tightening.
You flinch. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” suddenly, a sharp sting spreads on your cheek. You look at Satoru, feeling your face smarting.
“Shut up, goddamnit!” He yells, roughly letting go of your hand as your eyes begin to tear up. “I swear, you’re trying to get on my nerves. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
You blink in shock, your cheek reddening from the impact of the slap. Tears begin to fall from your eyes and you hold back a sob. The entire house falls into silence as the two of you stand there.
He watches you try to wipe the tears from your eyes, suddenly feeling the guilt swell in his chest. Why did he do that?
You sniffle, looking away from his gaze and pausing. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. “I’ll go finish making dinner.”
Satoru sighs, calming himself. He reaches to put his hand on your shoulder and calm you down, but you’re turning around and walking to the kitchen before he can apologize.
He can almost feel tears in his eyes, realizing what he’d done to you. Nevertheless, he watches you walk away in complete silence.
The whole scene replays in his head as he walks into the bedroom, hands in his hair and tugging from frustration. You were just trying to help him, and he hurt you like that. Another pang of guilt fills his body.
He’d had a bad day at work, everything was stressing him out. He hadn’t meant to hit you like that. He didn’t think.
Gojo rubs his temples as he strips his clothes and hops in the shower, hoping he could cool off and come back to talk to you later.
About thirty minutes later, Gojo dries himself off and walks into the living room. “Baby?” he calls out. You peek out from the kitchen.
“Toru?” you say softly, blinking at Gojo with a nervous expression. He gives you an apologetic smile.
“You okay?” He asks, walking toward you and stopping just a few feet in front of you. You simply nod a little.
“I made dinner.” You say, looking at the table covered with food. Gojo follows suit, looking over at the meal you made and immediately feeling even more guilt and regret then before.
“You made my favourite?” he asks, looking at you tenderly. You nod meekly again. He sighs.
“I’m sorry, baby.” he spoke quietly, as if afraid he’s scare you at a louder volume. You stayed silent as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your cheek.
Gently, he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just stressed. Work sucked, and I just didn’t think. I’m so so sorry.”
Your eyes tear up just a little bit, but you nod. “I just wanted to help you.” you tell him. He nods understandingly. “I know, baby.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead and pulls you close to his chest. “I love you so much.” he whispers against your hair, holding you close.
You don’t move for a second, but ease into it eventually. You bury yourself into his warm embrace as his arms wrap around you protectively.
“I swear, it was an accident. I’ll never do it again.” he promises. He interlaces his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it.
“Okay, I believe you. Do you want to eat now?” You ask, looking up at him with a hopeful glint in your eye.
He grins back. “Of course, my love.” He says, guiding you to the table and sitting you down on his lap.
“And if you’d like, I can have you for desert.”
79 notes · View notes
4littlefishies · 16 hours
Text
The 36th Floor
SatoSugu Office AU
Office worker Satoru Gojo finds himself stuck with the task of training his brand new coworker, but he doesn't know what to expect when he sees who he's supposed to be training. He can't fall in love with the man that sits in the cubicle across from him, right?
satoru gojo x suguru geto
warnings: nothing for this chapter, smut in later chapters!
wc: 6.6k
note: Hi all! Thought I'd start posting this on here as well. I always upload first on ao3, so if you wan't to keep updated, I'll put a link at the bottom! :) This is a non-curse non-jujutsu au because I enjoy writing fluff and happiness and crack and all the good stuff. <3
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Monday Morning
Satoru Gojo opens his eyes as the sound of his alarm blares through his previously silent bedroom. His hands come up to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he sits up in his bed before grabbing at his phone to make the annoying sound of his alarm stop. He takes a couple deep breaths and sits with his eyes closed for a moment before he finally pushes the comforter to the side and shifts his legs off of the side of the bed. 
Standing up from the warmth of his bed, Satoru shivers as the cold air hits his skin. He makes his way to the bathroom to start the routine that he does every morning before work: Shower, brush his teeth, skincare, hair; in that order, five days a week, 12 months a year. He loved how the structure of his morning before work and getting to listen to music as he calmly got ready made his whole day feel better.
Afterwards, he would make his bed and head out to the kitchen to eat a quick breakfast, which typically consisted of a sugary cereal or some kind of fruit for on the go if he was in a hurry to leave - which unfortunately happened more often than not. Thankfully, today was one of the days where he had time to sit down at the counter and eat a proper breakfast.
Humming along with the music playing through his phone, he makes his way back into his room and steps into his closet. He pulls out a navy blue suit jacket and pants, along with a white button-up shirt for underneath and a tie to pull it all together. Satoru gets dressed and with his jacket folded over the side of his now neatly-made bed, he picks out a pair of brown oxfords and finally puts on his watch. 
The mirror by his bedroom door is the final step in his routine as he checks his reflection one last time before heading towards the front door. The blue of his eyes almost glow back at him as he looks over himself in the mirror, making sure his bright white hair looks decent before flicking off the lights and pulling on his jacket. He picks up his bag from the table next to the front door and grabs his keys out of the bowl, shoving them into his pocket. 
“See you when I get home, Shiro.” He whispers to the white cat, looking up at him with wide eyes from the couch. The cat makes a quiet noise that makes Satoru smile as he closes the front door behind him and checks that it’s locked before turning and walking down the hallway towards the elevator. 
Today was just another day for Satoru, a typical Monday morning. He would walk to the station not too far from his house and wait for the train along with everyone else also going to their 9-5 jobs in the city. He found joy in the time he got to listen to music on his commute and enjoyed seeing the same people he would see every morning. The man seated across the aisle from him would get off the stop before Satoru, every single morning. The woman a couple rows in front of him would get off the stop after he got on. 
Satoru liked to ponder and imagine what these strangers on the train were doing with their days. The scenarios in his head were probably much more exciting that what was actually going on in these people’s lives, but he would rather imagine that the stranger in the same black trench coat every day is actually a member of the Yakuza and not just an accountant or a lawyer or something normal. 
Before he knows it, the train is coming up to his stop. He stands up, stabilizing himself with one of the many hand holds as the train finally slows to a stop. The doors open and he steps off, walking in time with his music, his hands in his pockets as he walks out into the crisp morning air. The walk to his office is a short one, but he stops at the coffee shop in the lobby of the building as he does every morning.
“Good morning, Miwa!” He says in a singsong voice as he steps up to the counter. The young woman smiles and grabs a disgustingly sweet drink set to the side of the register that was just made for him. He picks it up and hands her twice as much cash as it actually costs before turning and swiftly walking towards the elevator. “You’re the best, Miwa!” He calls out over his shoulder as he rushes towards the closing elevator doors.
“Have a good day Gojo!” She calls out after him in response. He waves with a smile as he steps into the elevator. Just another part of his routine that makes his day even better. He takes a small sip of his still-too-hot coffee in the half full elevator and presses the button for floor 36. He readjusts his bag on his shoulder and pulls out his key card as the elevator makes stops at a few floors before he reaches his own. 
“Have a good day guys.” Satoru says as the elevator opens to his floor, resulting in a few quiet thank you’s and you too’s. Someone else steps off of the elevator at the same time as him and Satoru turns to notice that it’s his coworker, Shoko Ieiri. A surprised look crosses his face as he looks at her. “What the hell? I didn’t even notice you in there!” He says with a cheeky smile on his face as they walk down the hallway towards the glass door of their office. He holds his key card up to the side of the door before the lock clicks and he pulls the large glass door open, allowing Shoko inside first.
“Just say you don’t care about me, idiot.” She says, rolling her eyes with a smile, walking inside as Satoru holds the door open for her. The two of them head straight for the break room, Shoko puts her lunch box in the fridge, and Satoru grabs a strawberry-mango yogurt, along with a spoon. 
“Maybe you need to be more noticeable.” Satoru teases back at her. Shoko closes the fridge and glares up at him. The two of them have been friends since high school, which resulted in their sibling-like relationship that consisted of endless teasing and fake bullying.
“I got you hired here, I bet I could get you fired too, you know that right?” She says as they both turn to walk out of the break room to head to their cubicles, which luckily - or unluckily - were right next to each other. Satoru leans on the edge of Shoko’s cubicle as she sets her things down and tries to get adjusted.
“No way, Shoko. Nanami loves me.” He says, talking about their boss. She raises an eyebrow at him as he backs up into his cubicle across the aisle and sets his bag down on his desk. He puts his hands up, as if to say “I can’t help it” and sits down in his chair with a smile and turns to turn on his computer. 
The office is quiet with the chatter of everyone arriving for the morning along with the sounds of keyboards typing and mice clicking. Gojo starts with the normal morning things like checking his emails and then his planner to see what he has planned out for the day. “Shit.” He whispers, but still loud enough for Shoko to hear. 
“What’s your problem?” Shoko asks, not even turning her head away from her monitor to look at him. 
“They’re having me train someone new.” He says, sounding slightly annoyed. “I have so much to do already and they want me to train someone new?” He rubs his forehead and closes his eyes, thinking about how much more this is going to set him back. 
“If you need help with anything, just let me know.” She responds, trying to be helpful, all the while knowing that she would have no idea how to even do most of the things that Satoru does on a daily basis. 
“I just need to get as much done in this hour that I have before he gets here.” Satoru says, mostly to himself, but loud enough that Shoko hears.
“I have a meeting at 10, but I’ll be back after lunch if you need anything.” She adds, trying to be helpful and make him feel better about the day ahead.
“Thank you, Shoko, I appreciate it.” He says, starting to work on a presentation for when some of the higher ups from corporate were coming later in the month. He pops one headphone in, trying to get focused into his work to get as much done as possible in the shortest amount of time. 
Slowly but surely, Satoru’s coffee disappears and the strawberry-mango yogurt cup he had grabbed from the fridge is empty and long gone. His fingers type away quickly at his quiet keyboard as he fills the slides with information that he needs to get across to the corporate visitors. Sales had been great this year, and it was his responsibility to explain to the higher ups what their branch is doing right and things that they think could help other branches to do better.
An hour passes much more quickly than Satoru would have liked, but Shoko is gone to her meeting in one of the conference rooms and suddenly Satoru’s phone rings. He rarely used it to talk to anyone outside of the office, so he was not surprised to see the name Utahime Iori on the screen. He smiles and grabs it before answering sweetly.
“Why good morning Utahime.” He says nicely.
“Gojo, I just finished up paperwork with the new hire, so I’m just giving you a heads up that he’s on his way, okay?” She responds, trying to avoid conversation as much as possible.
“Not even a good morning back?” Satoru responds, sounding hurt, all the while he has a smile on his face. 
“Good morning.” She says, shortly. “He’s on his way, his name’s Suguru Geto. Bye.” She hangs up and the line goes blank.
“Hello? Utahime??” Satoru questions at the obviously ended phone call. He chuckles and hangs the phone back up. He hears a quiet set of footsteps walking on the other side of the wall to his back. He turns around and stands up just in time to see the long black haired man come around the corner. He’s wearing a black suit with a red patterned tie and wears his hair half up and half down. Satoru makes eye contact with him and he feels immediately nervous, as well as something he swears he’s never felt before. 
“Um. hello, are you-” He starts, but Satoru stands there almost unable to move. Immediately, he feels like he knows this man from somewhere. He seemed so familiar to Satoru - his voice, his face, his eyes, even though he knew that he didn’t know this man. “-Gojo?” He finally finishes, quietly, unsure if he remembered his name correctly. The way he says his name sounds like velvet. He wants to hear him say his name over and over again. 
“Yeah! Yeah, Satoru Gojo. But you can call me Satoru, if you want.” He says, breaking out of his thoughts, He sticks out his hand to shake it. Their hands meet in the middle and they both grip the other’s hand firmly. Both of their hands are warm, but Satoru feels like his hands are on fire. He smiles at the man in front of him, and he nods back, seemingly trying to put his name to memory. “What was your name again? Utahime told me but-” He trails off, waiting for the man to tell him his name. 
“Suguru Geto.” He says, a soft smile painted on his face.
“Nice to meet you, Suguru.” Satoru says, bravely using his first name. His palms start to feel sweaty as he steps back into his cubicle. He is silently kicking himself as Suguru stands there quietly. “So, you can grab Shoko’s chair from over there, if you want and bring it on over here and we’ll get started. Oh, and you can set your stuff in the cubicle in front of hers, that one is going to be yours.” He says, pointing at the cubicle diagonal from his. 
Suguru quickly sets his stuff down and decides to grab his chair instead of Shoko’s and wheels over to Satoru’s desk. “Good call, she might have killed me if she knew I told you to take her chair.” He smiles to himself towards his monitor as Suguru sits behind him, his jacket left behind in his cubicle, showing off his broad chest and shoulders in his grey button up.
“Yeah, definitely. That’s where Shoko sits?” Suguru asks, curiously.
“Yeah, um, do you know her?” Satoru asks, slightly confused as to why it sounds like Suguru knows who he’s talking about. He takes a silent deep breath, feeling his heart rate increase at seeing him without the jacket. Jesus Satoru, calm down he thinks to himself, waiting for Suguru to answer his question. 
“Um yeah, she’s actually the one that got me this job.” He responds softly.
“No way! I went to school with her, she got me this job too.” Satoru responds, sounding way too excited.
Suguru chuckles softly at Satoru’s excitement and of course Satoru notices. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to make him do it again. The sound was like music to his ears. He takes a quick deep breath and quickly changes the subject. “So! Should we get started?” He doesn’t know what’s come over him. Normally he’s an incredibly extroverted person and would have no problem talking to new people, but he doesn’t want to say something wrong this time, and he doesn’t know why but he’s nervous.
He tries to calm down and opens up the website on his computer that the company uses for training new employees. This is something he’s done enough that he doesn’t really have to think about it, which is good because he can’t stop thinking about where he could maybe, possibly know this man from. It’s driving him insane, the immediate connection he somehow feels to this person that he’s never met before. He feels the tops of his ears get hot. 
“Alright so, you get in here and I’ll sit behind you so you can see the monitor and work on the computer when you need to, and I can sit back here and mostly watch and answer questions if you need me to.” Satoru says, standing up and moving his chair to switch places with Suguru so that he can see the monitor better. Their arms brush up against each other in the tight cubicle space as they switch spots and Satoru feels like he’s going to lose his mind at the feeling.
He starts going through boring training videos and and every day procedures with him, trying to focus on training him for work, rather than just talking to him like normal. All he wants to do is learn about who this beautiful man is. Why would Shoko never tell me about him? Satoru thinks to himself as Suguru watches another video. Satoru sits behind him, organizing his drawer of pens to occupy himself until the video that he’s seen countless times comes to an end.
“So, is it all kinda making sense?” Satoru asks, closing the drawer and looking over at Suguru as he clicks to the next page. 
“Yeah, yeah, definitely. I think I’ll just need to do it a couple times and I’ll be good.” He shoots back, confidently. 
“Oh yeah, absolutely. You’re a natural.” Satoru says, earning a smile from Suguru, causing him to smile as well. “Okay, you can start the next video, but I’m gonna be right back, okay?” He stands up, putting both of his thumbs up as he creeps out of the cubicle. 
“I’ll be here.” Suguru says, putting one hand up as Gojo walks around the corner of his cubicle and out into the hallway that leads towards the bathroom. 
He quickly walks into the dark bathroom and the motion activated lights click on. He looks at himself in the mirror and takes a deep breath. “What the hell is your problem?” He whispers to himself in the mirror. He’s never felt this way about anyone except for this complete stranger. He wants to get to know him. He wants to get closer with him. He turns on the water and runs his hand under the cold water before holding it to his forehead and cheeks, trying to calm down. He takes another deep breath and runs his hand through his hair, fixing it, even though it didn’t need fixing. 
“Calm down stupid, you’ve known the man for an hour and a half. Keep it together.” He says quietly in the mirror to himself once again before leaving the bathroom and heading back to his cubicle to continue training Suguru. He rounds the corner and Suguru perks up once he sees that Satoru is back.
“Oh good, you’re back! I got stuck on this page and I didn’t want to mess anything up, so I waited for you to get back.” Sugaru says, pointing at the screen. Satoru walks up behind him and grabs hold onto the mouse, clicking around to see what's going on, bent down next to Suguru. He hadn't been this close to him yet, even when they shook hands, he couldn’t smell his cologne. He can now smell the warm scent of cashmere but also pine coming off of him as he leans down next to him. 
“Ugh I hate this thing. It signed us out, just a second.” Satoru says, before reaching in front of Suguru and pulling the keyboard to the side so that he could sign back in and they could keep working. Satoru sees Suguru sit back as he watches him get back to the place where they left off. Once he’s back, he slides the keyboard back in front of Suguru and pushes the mouse back to him. “There we go.” He says, slowly sitting back into his chair. 
“Thanks.” Suguru says softly before getting back to the training. 
The next hour and a half goes by without incident and thankfully without too much awkwardness between the two of them. Satoru is thankful for lunch so that he can get a break. He thinks about inviting Suguru to join him for lunch, but decides against it. He needs an hour to himself to think about why he’s feeling the way that he is, and what he thinks he’s going to do about it, if anything. 
“So, we get an hour for lunch, you can stay here, go somewhere, whatever.” Satoru says, explaining to Suguru as they close out the training. 
“Okay, thanks!” Suguru says, standing up and rolling his chair back to his cubicle. Satoru looks over as he puts his jacket on and walks out into the hallway. Gojo takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, stretching his arms before standing up. He grabs his jacket and pulls it on before grabbing his phone and wallet and heading towards the front door. He pops his headphones in as he steps into the empty elevator and heads down to the lobby. 
He clicks play on the last song that was playing as the doors open to the busy lobby. Satoru heads straight for the main doors and out onto the street, where he puts on his sunglasses as he steps outside. He takes a right and heads towards his favorite cafe to go for lunch during his work week. The walk is only a couple of blocks, but the air is cold and it turns Satoru’s cheeks and nose a rosy pink with the chill of the wind. I should have invited him. Satoru thinks, shoving his hands into his pockets and picking up the pace in his walk to the cafe. He probably thinks I don’t like him. Why was I acting like such a weirdo? The thoughts cloud his mind the entire duration of his walk. 
He reaches out to pull the handle and the normal sound of the bell on the door makes its presence known as Satoru steps into the small cafe, gaining the attention of the young pink haired teenager behind the counter. “Hey Gojo!” He calls out as Satoru approaches the counter. “You want your usual?” He asks, already typing his normal order into the cash register. 
“Yes please!” He replies, “and can I also get one of these? Actually- two of those. If I don’t get one for Shoko, she’ll kill me.” He replies, pointing to the delicious looking cupcakes in the display case. 
“Alrighty then!.” The pink haired boy says, sliding open the case.
“Just you today, Yuji?” Gojo asks, pulling out his wallet while the total pops up on the screen in front of him on the counter.
“Yeah,” Yuji says with a sigh. “Megumi is off today, so just me!” He says, taking the cash that Satoru hands him. “No receipt, right?” Satoru shakes his head no, and Yuji crumples up the receipt and tosses it into the trash behind the counter. “Have a good rest of your day, Gojo!”
“You as well, Yuji.” He says in response as he grabs his food and heads to a table in the corner where he can sit down and relax for a bit before heading back to the office. He settles on his usual spot - the small table with two chairs in the back corner, and sits in the chair facing the front door so that he could once again people watch. He takes a bite of his sandwich before setting it back down and looking at his phone at a text from Utahime.
‘Geto is training for the rest of the day with Haibara once you’re back from lunch.’
Satoru reads this and feels relieved because now he can get his work done, but also disappointed that he wouldn’t get to be around Suguru for the rest of the day. He reacts to the message with a thumbs up and decides not to bother her anymore for once. He sets his phone down and looks up at the group of people that just came in from the street and he sees him. 
Shit shit shit shit. Satoru thinks to himself. Should I go say something? No! He has a quick mental battle with himself. He doesn’t want to bother him outside of work, but he wants so desperately to get to know who Suguru Geto is. He watches from behind his sunglasses as Suguru approaches the counter and interacts with Yuji. Satoru notices his smile is soft as he orders and pays. He looks around and that’s when Satoru picks up his phone and starts looking at it again, trying to avoid possibly making eye contact with him. 
Just from what Gojo can see in his periphery, Suguru seems to look around for a moment before he steps towards the front door and leaves the cafe, seemingly taking his food back to the office. Satoru breathes again as he realizes that he was holding his breath waiting to see what would happen. He wasn’t even sure what it was that he wanted to happen. If he would have noticed me, he would have said something, right? He thought to himself, sure that Suguru didn’t spot him over in the corner. 
Satoru realizes that his hands are sweaty and wipes them on his pants, hurriedly. It’s fine He thinks again. He tries to finish his sandwich, but ends up getting sick of it after a few bites and wraps it up to take back to the office along with his cupcakes for him and Shoko. He gives Yuji a wave as he steps out onto the street to start his walk back to the office, an upbeat song once again playing in his ears. 
He walks through the large front doors and heads towards the elevator, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his jacket pocket. He steps into the elevator and immediately notices Shoko this time and calls out her name. 
“Oh, so you noticed me this time huh?” She teases as the doors close and they are the only two inside. He wants to ask her about Suguru, but he decides that it’s better that he doesn't - at least for now. 
“How was your meeting?” He responds, choosing to ignore her statement. He takes her deep sigh as her answer. “That bad, huh?” He asks, the elevator starting to quickly climb.
“It was just a bunch of old creepy men and I just kept getting talked over the whole time.” She says, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, obviously annoyed. Satoru shakes his head, knowing that she’s not exaggerating. He’s been in those meetings and they just don’t care to hear what she has to say. It’s extremely frustrating and he tries his best to help when he’s there. 
“Well… It’s not that much, but I got you a little treat.” He says, handing the cupcake box to her as the elevator reaches the 36th floor and comes to a stop. Her eyes widen and her mouth falls open in a smile as she reaches out and grabs the small box.
The elevator doors open and they step out, walking down the hallway together. Satoru uses his key card and opens the door once again, following Shoko inside. Satoru heads straight back to his cubicle to see if Suguru is at his desk. To his disappointment, he isn’t. Satoru sits down at his desk and unlocks his computer to get working on his presentation for later in the month. He checks his email and sees that thankfully, the marketing department sent him all of their reports that he needed for his presentation. He hears Shoko sit back down into her chair as he’s working diligently. 
“Where’s your trainee?” He hears Shoko say over the sound of the music in his ear. He takes out his headphone and turns his head.
“He’s with Yu for the rest of the day. Guess they want him to learn different positions.” He says, and it comes out more disappointed sounding than he meant it to. “I’m just happy they’re giving me time to focus on my own work. I’m more behind now, but I think I can catch up by the end of the day if I just focus.” He says, turning his head back to the monitor in front of him. 
He doesn’t see Shoko raise her eyebrows at his change in attitude all of a sudden. She grabs a pen and a sticky note and writes “Do Not Disturb! Satoru Gojo hard at work! >:(” and rolls across the aisle, sticking it to the outside of his cubicle with a smile on her face that goes completely unnoticed by Satoru. 
The final hours of the day slip by faster than Satoru would have liked, but he feels good with where he’s left off on his work. He leans back in his chair and stretches his arms out before glancing over at Suguru’s cubicle once more, only to see it still empty. Hmph. He lets out quietly, hoping that he would be able to say goodbye at least before heading home for the day. He looks over to see Shoko is long gone, her computer already off and monitor black. He smiles to himself as he stands up, grabbing his jacket off of the back of his chair and throwing it on before grabbing his bag from underneath his desk and slinging it over his shoulder. He grabs his empty coffee cup from the morning and finally tosses it into the garbage on his way out the door. 
Satoru takes one last look around to see if he notices Suguru anywhere, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably gone home idiot. He thinks to himself, looking down at his watch. The day was technically over 15 minutes ago. He walks out the front door, saying goodbye to lingering coworkers on his way out. He makes sure to grab his sandwich from the fridge and shoves it into his bag, making sure to grab his cupcake as well.
For the last time of the day, he steps into the elevator, alone this time, and pops his headphones in, ready for the commute home. The elevator makes a couple stops to pick up people from other floors also on their way down, but the ride isn’t too long to the lobby. Satoru steps out of the elevator and makes his way towards the front doors. He begins his short walk back to the train station, once again walking to the beat of the music playing in his ears.  
He sees the train is already at the station as he’s walking up, and he begins to take a bit longer strides as he tries not to miss the train, but eventually, just misses it.
“Shit.” He hisses as he looks around for an open bench to wait on. A woman and her son sit on the bench directly behind him, so he finds an empty one slightly further down the station and sits down. He decides to text Utahime, who is probably still at the office.
‘Hiii Utahime, Just wondering if I was going to be training him again tomorrow morning :)’
He clicks send and almost immediately the three bubbles pop up to indicate that she’s typing. 
‘Yeah, he said that he liked training with you, which surprised me. Now leave me alone and go home.’
Satoru feels his face get red. He what? He thinks, a smile creeping onto his face. Don’t be crazy. With a stupidly excited grin, he rubs along his jaw, bringing his bottom lip in between hit teeth to try to bite back his smile. He can’t help but read the text over and over again to make sure that he understood correctly, and no matter how many times he reads it, it’s always the same message. He liked training with me? A voice comes over the speaker announcing that the train will soon be arriving in the station. Satoru stands up, straightening out his jacket while trying to suppress the goofy smile on his face. 
He steps onto the train and picks a seat close to the door. His short train ride was of course filled with people watching and imagining what their days are like. Finally, his stop arrives and he steps back out into the cool air and begins his walk back to his apartment. He can’t stop smiling to himself on the way home, just excited to go back and see him the next day. 
I have to invite him to lunch. He thinks to himself. They went to the same cafe, it was only polite to, right? Satoru opens the front door of his building and heads towards the elevator. He clicks the up arrow and waits for the ding and the doors slowly open. He steps inside the empty elevator and clicks the button for the 36th floor - same as the office, funnily enough. It makes it really easy to remember where you live and work when it’s the same number. He enjoyed being up so high, able to see all the beautiful lights of the city of Tokyo from his home. 
Satoru grabs his keys out of his pocket as he approaches his door, and easily unlocks the door without any trouble. He steps inside and calls out. “Shiro, I’m home!” He hears a small meow followed by a thud and the patter of paws padding out to greet him. “There’s my girl! Are you hungry?” She responds with a meow as Satoru sets his bag down and kicks off his shoes before stepping towards the kitchen and pulling out a can of wet food for the cat. A constant stream of meows fill the room until Satoru finally sets down the food for her. “Yeah yeah! I’m getting there!” He calls out to her as she yowls up at him from his feet. He sets down the bowl in its normal spot and Shiro digs in. “You act like you’ve never eaten before.” He says as he picks up his bag and shoes and heads into his bedroom. He sets his shoes back in their spot and hangs his bag on the hook on the back of his door. 
Satoru starts by taking off his jacket and hanging it up, followed by shedding the rest of his suit and clothing down to nothing but his underwear. He walks out of the closet, taking a quick look in the mirror with a smile on his way by to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and stands there while it heats up, thinking about his day, about how good this shower was going to feel, about Suguru. He takes a deep breath before shedding his final layer and stepping into the steamy shower. He lets the hot water run down over his hair and face before he rubs his face with his hands, still smiling over the day.
“You need to chill out.” He says out loud to himself in the shower. He runs his fingers through his hair and goes through the normal order of things in his after-work shower. He takes a deep breath and tries to relax his muscles as the hot water runs over his shoulders and down his back. The pressure of the water feeling good on his back, which is sore from sitting in his chair hunched over all day. He closes his eyes and lets the water run over his tired muscles for a minute before finally turning around and turning the water off. He shakes his hands through his hair, trying to get as much water out as possible. 
Satoru grabs his towel from the hook on the wall and uses it to dry off before wrapping it low around his waist. He opens the bathroom door and makes his way over to his dresser to pull out some sweat pants and a black tshirt. 
After putting on his moisturizer and getting redressed after his shower, Satoru makes his way back out into the kitchen. “What should I have for dinner, Shi?” He asks the fluffy cat, but mostly to himself as he opens the fridge to check what he has. After checking the pantry, he decides that he has the correct ingredients to make some lemon pepper salmon with rice, so he starts pulling out ingredients and in less than an hour later, he’s plating up and setting it on his dining room table. He takes a quick picture, satisfied with his work before he sits down and starts eating. 
“This is delicious!” He says into the empty apartment to himself. He smiles to himself as he finishes up his dinner and decides to wind down by watching something in the living room. He turns the tv on and picks up his phone before queuing anything up and sees a text from Shoko.
‘You didn’t tell me that you were training Geto!!!’ 
He reads the text and his heart rate immediately picks up again. Is he talking about me to Shoko? Races through his mind and he begins typing a response. 
‘You never asked ¯\_(ツ)_/¯’ He clicks send and immediately sees Shoko typing. He didn’t think to mention that he had in fact mentioned that he knew her. Not only that, but that she got him the job, similarly to how she had also gotten him the job. 
‘Dude!!!’
Satoru is confused as to what she’s getting at.
‘???’ He sends back.
‘Why didn’t you tell me??’
‘Idk, didn’t really realize that I needed to.’
‘Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow!’ She finishes with. 
“Weirdo.” Satoru says out loud to himself before setting his phone to the side and picking a random movie from his collection and pressing play, just to have something playing. He props his feet up on the coffee table and interlocks his fingers behind his head as he sits back, thinking about Suguru once again. He stares up at the ceiling, remembering how nice he smelled, how nice he looked. He feels a soft movement from the other side of the couch as Shiro makes her way over to plop herself down right on Satoru’s lap. 
“What the hell am I gonna do, Shi?” He asks, still looking up at the ceiling before bringing down one of his hands to pet the cat, who was happily leaning into the pets that she was getting. He smiles down at the fluffy white cat in his lap and paints his attention back up to the tv where his movie continued to play. Satoru spends his Monday evening watching movies and eating the cupcake from his favorite cafe, all while being unable to stop thinking about Suguru Geto.
About three movies and enough sugar to send a child into a sugar rush, Satoru looks at this phone once again. Empty of notifications and the time reads 10:31. “Guess I should get ready for bed, huh baby?” He says as the cat follows him into his bedroom. He flicks off the lamps as he walks by, leaving his living room lit up by nothing but the moon and the lights of downtown Tokyo down below. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand before stepping into the bathroom for one last time to brush his teeth. 
He walks out of the bathroom over to his windows. He sits down for a moment in the arm chair in the corner of his room and looks out the window. He enjoyed doing this before bed, just to relax a little bit. He liked to think about all the lives of everyone he could see from his window. Every person he can see has their own life that he will never know about. Satoru takes one last look at the busy street below and stands up and walks slowly over to his bed, yawning as he does so.
Pulling back the comforter, he climbs into his bed. Shiro jumps onto the bed and lays down close to his feet. Satoru throws the comforter over himself and grabs his phone from the nightstand, turning off the lamp as well. He opens up his text message with Utahime one more time just to smile and read that Suguru enjoyed being with him today. He thinks once more about how he also had mentioned him to Shoko. Satoru makes sure his alarms are set for the morning before turning on some brown noise to help him sleep. 
Last, Satoru sets his phone on the night stand and can’t help but smile excitedly into his pillow. He was excited for the day ahead of him for tomorrow. Finally, something to look forward to outside of the monotony of a typically boring office job. 
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chapter 2 here!
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I drew my babies inspired by Kotteri who Illustrates the "Veil" manga. The 1950 aesthetic is just so nice!!!
https://twitter.com/KotteriArt?s=20
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gojorgeous · 4 months
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"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can��t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
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“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”
— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)
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GOJO SATORU:
satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.
truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.
he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.
that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”
you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”
“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.
you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.
you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”
he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”
you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.
your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”
his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”
“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.
NANAMI KENTO:
whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.
yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.
you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.
in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.
“y/n, would you like anything else?”
a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.
he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”
he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.
you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”
he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”
nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”
he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”
“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”
to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”
“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”
 “just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.
nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”
“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”
GETO SUGURU:
geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.
in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.
today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.
no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”
with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”
the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”
somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?
after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.
you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”
“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.
you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.
he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”
geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”
you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”
“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.
the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.
nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”
he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.
he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.
he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.
he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.
that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.
after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.
he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.
he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.
he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.
he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”
he feels a light kick against his palm.
his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”
as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”
“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”
sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”
you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”
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augustinewrites · 9 months
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“babe. baaaabe. babe!”
“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap. 
he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”
“yes,” you answer quickly.
you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.” 
“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk. 
“what? i wasn’t your first?!”
“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”
“am i though?”
“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”
behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”
you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction. 
but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.
“yaga said you wanted to see me?”
cue overreaction.
“you had a crush on— on him?” 
nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek. 
“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”
nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”
“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?” 
your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically. 
“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.” 
even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that. 
you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”
“you wouldn’t have been—”
“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”
_____
“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.
“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”
you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”
he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?” 
“you do look very handsome.” 
“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”
he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”
you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.” 
he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”
“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”
“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.” 
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rynfiles · 4 months
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mommy kissing santa claus ? oh goodness !
✎ᝰ — your adorable children catches you and your husband sneaking kisses from one another, except that they see santa claus and not your actual husband
★ — gojo, toji, geto x fem!reader
★ — genre + warnings: fluff & very suggestive + allusion to sex from previous night in geto’s (nothing explained/nothing in detail)
★ — a/n: thank you to my pookie kai for your help (@strawhatkia) and dedicated to my tia baeeee <3 (@tiathecreator)
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꒰ SATORU GOJO ꒱
°❆ christmas day lingers quicker and quicker and midnight is close to striking, but of course, you and your husband are wrapping gifts very last minute. there would be a great explanation to this but there isn’t, both of your work schedules and the children's school schedules, made it barely possible to wrap gifts. which leads to the two of you rapidly, and terribly, wrapping gifts as your twin children sleep.
but, to make the night slightly more festive, gojo decided to dress up as santa claus. he bought two sets, one as pajamas and one for the morning as everyone unwrapped their gifts. he thought it would excite the children for the festive holiday. you laughed at his frivolous idea and immediately he pulled out a mrs. claus outfit….oh gosh. you laughed at the suit, you rejected the outfit and continued wrapping, ignoring his pleas as it got worse and worse.
gojo dressed up with the beard and santa hat, trying to convince you that dressing up is a wonderful idea and the kids would love it. though in your mind, you’re thinking of wondering how to tell this white-haired man that he looks like a creep and not santa claus, but you wouldn’t hurt his precious little heart like that. instead, you continued to wrap the remaining gifts, until you felt a sudden heaviness on your chest. heaviness that could be described as your brawny, whiny, six-foot-four husband still pleading with you to dress up with him. his usual gleeful blue eyes become doe-y, now giving away the desperation that gojo is never ashamed of.
you laugh at his desperation and ask him to get off but of course, he refuses. he hugs you and traps you in a tight space, you trying to squirm out of his hold and him hovering you. it also doesn’t make it better that his doe-y look turned into a sense of mischief, you raised your eyebrow at his look, and he simply shrugged at it. you two stared at each other until gojo’s lips formed a smirk and placed a sensual kiss on you. you opened your mouth to object to the kiss but instead, he placed another one and another…and another. he continued to kiss you until you kissed back, light noises made as both of your hands traveled. the kiss continued and distracted both of you from the gift wrapping and the fact that the twins had woken up from their sleep.
your bedroom door opens widely, but of course, you and gojo hadn’t noticed, and both of them yelled, “santa?!”. your child’s voice startled both of you and gojo immediately fell off of you and almost until the gifts. you elbowed him to get the gifts out of their sight, he grabbed the nearest blanket and threw it on top of their gifts. you asked your children why they couldn’t sleep and they answered back why you were kissing thee santa claus, the big dude with a sack of gifts. why is santa kissing their mom and not their dad? this is nuts, insane, crazy to even think about!
while the kids were trying to lecture you on how much dad loves you and how you’re such a bad person to dad, you looked to gojo and gojo burst into laughter, you followed along and laughed as well. both kids looked at each other with confusion and hurt on their faces. gojo patted the space between the two of you and told them to sit there as he explained a (terribly) exaggerated story on how their dad is the real santa claus, that’s why he’s extra busy during the month of december. he even took off the beard and hat to prove that’s it their giddy father and not the man in red with a bunch of elves. both children were confused and continued to ask questions, one of them didn’t believe him and still pointed to you as a cheater. you shook your head and added fictional events to gojo’s story, no matter how exaggerated it sounded aloud.
꒰ SUGURU GETO ꒱
°❆ christmas springs upon the morning, and you only know this because both of the young girls, nanako and mimiko, are banging at the door. you and geto groan and try to ignore it, if only the girls didn’t start fiddling with the door, and that startled the both of you. particularly ‘cause the aftermath of last night was still present, since the both of you weren’t clothed.
thankfully, yet oddly, you were reminded to tell geto about the santa suit to wear for the morning. now was it a silly idea? most definitely! was for nanako and mimiko? mostly yes, and you needed some type of memory of christmas morning on your phone. you walk over to your closet and shuffle around the boxes of presents until you spotted the big red suit and hat to match. you smiled ever so cunningly to yourself, geto noticed but shrugged his shoulders and went about to brush his teeth. you pulled the suit from behind the presents and showed it geto, proposing to him to wear it for this merry morning. geto being geto, he immediately rejected but that no didn’t stop you from convincing him to wear. did it take a lot of convincing? oh definitely. did it take a lot of “are you guys done yet?” from your two girls? yes…sadly yes.
the only thing that convinced him was that it would bring a lot of glee to his girls and he can’t disappoint his girls, he just can’t. even if it means sucking up his pride and dressing up as santa claus and pretending to bring the gifts from the north pole. it also helps, not geto though, that you bought a sack similar to santa’s so he could truly be in character.
after some time of getting ready for the morning, as in fussing with geto about the suit and carefully placing the presents into sack, you entered the living room with a smile that is hiding something, but the girls are too focused on their stocking stuffers to notice. they bounce with gleefulness as they open small gifts such as doll clothes, hair accessories, some candy, and other minuscule things they asked for. they continued to bounce around the tree as they tried to peek at what their gifts could be but were forced not to open them until their surprise arrived.
the girls grew tired after some minutes and frequently asked when is their surprise is coming. nanako tried to sneakily open one of her gifts under the tree until the iconic, “ho! ho! ho!”, made it’s way into your home and the girls jumped up from their spot to see santa claus in their home. their jaws dropped and their eyes grew from the sudden appearance of santa claus, the true (fake) santa in their home! you giggled at their amusement and you noticed geto’s mouth growing from annoyed to relaxed as he small childish smiles on his girl’s faces. maybe dressing up as santa wasn’t too bad of an idea for geto, but who is he to tell you that you’re right?
the girls eagerly asked questions as santa geto sat down to give their gifts, he tried to answer to the best of his abilities or at least give believable answers for them. mimiko questioned him on why santa’s hair looked similar to their father’s and he immediately answered with hair dye and extensions. you smiled to yourself at the beautiful, and playful, sight of the girls enjoying geto as santa claus, you took many pictures on your phone while they weren’t looking.
though, geto caught you mid-click and pulled you onto his lap. he peppered kisses all over your face and gave you “your gift”, an enduring and sweet kiss to say “I love you”. though, maybe nanako and mimiko shouldn’t have been present to witness that cause immediate yelling came from the both of them. they mostly yelled at geto and asked him why he kissed their mother, he’s supposed to be married to mrs. claus! he shouldn’t have his lips on their mother and their mom shouldn’t like that, their father would be furious!
you and geto smiled at their lecture, you giggled to yourself and geto pulled off his costume, reavealing to them that he is santa claus. mimiko tried to say that she always knew from the hair but the both of you knew that was a lie.
꒰ TOJI FUSHIGURO ꒱
°❆ a clink goes and laughter fills the living room, just as much as it is with red and white, and the typical splatter of different colors from megumi and tsumiki, love and peace decorate it as well. two bottles of wine sat at the dresser, one already halfway done as you and toji chatted (and drank) away for christmas eve. but as the wine bottle becomes empty, the space between you two becomes closer. then again, he has been gone for a whole month and a half, it’s only right to feel this way with him.
it’s only right to feel this way of yearning from his absence, which explains why his arm slyly brings your lower body closer to him. it explains why his fingers drag themselves along your thigh, lightly dragging around your stretch marks. it explains why toji brought himself closer to your face, only a mere inch away from your lips interlocking. but instead he brings the idea of dressing as santa claus and mrs. claus for the night? sounds odd, trust it is and the way your head is titled, he knew that it sounded odd to you.
he explains himself further and says that it's only right that you dress up for the holiday season. plus, he’s one hundred percent sure that mrs. claus misses her dead old husband. you still had a look of confusion on your face, toji sighed and went into the closet to change into the costume he had prepared. except when he came out, it was barely anything like the classic look of santa; it was a red thermal top with fur cuffs, barely cropped but can still show a peek of his abs, the top had a bell at the collar, quite small and quite annoying. red thermal pants to match as well and a santa hat (something to keep it classic).
you burst into laughter as you saw the awful outfit he claimed to be dressed as “santa claus”. when in actuality, he looks like an elf on the shelf and you told him that, crying in laughter as toji huffs in embarrassment. he grumbled to himself, saying it was the last time he tried to be “in the merry spirit”. he continued to grumble to himself and you continued to laugh at him, still not over the ridiculous outfit, you gave props for trying, but couldn’t get over it.
granted, his muscle build made it look somewhat attractive but the amount of red on him just threw you in for a loop. it also doesn’t help that the bell jingles every time he moves. his embarrassment grew into frustration, making him throw off the top and your laugh dialed down. the both of you forgot how bashful you can get when toji is topless, due to his absence.
toji noticed, finding amusement at how your laughter was taken back as soon as he removed his shirt. which made him want to tease you just a slight bit; he moved back to the bed and grabbed your hand, moving it to place on his hips. then drags it along his waist, he lets out a small groan when you press your nails onto it.
as both of your hands roamed over each other, the space between your bodies constricted, leaning closer and closer until your lips ghosted over. you both chuckled before kissing one another, a kiss that could be described as loving, enduring, and passionate. but could you blame each other?
well, the only thing to blame is that door wasn’t completely closed and tsumiki happened to pass by. she glanced and continued to the kitchen, but then backtracked to your room. she spotted the red hat and thought to herself, “santa? there’s no way, why is santa in mommy’s room?”. she tip-toed closer to the small crack that your door left and viewed the kiss shared between you and toji. her jaw dropped and she immediately ran, quietly ran, to megumi’s room to wake him up. megumi grumbled to her to let him sleep, yet tsumiki insisted that she saw her mom kissing santa claus. she saw it with her own two eyes!
megumi didn’t believe her and tried to ignore her but he knew that wouldn’t work, therefore getting up from his bed and treading towards your bedroom. he didn’t even bother knocking and opening the door, immediately wishing he didn’t from the way his parents were on each other. thankfully, you both were clothed and didn’t do anything…yet.
toji scolded megumi for not knocking on the door and megumi rolled his eyes. megumi turned over to tsumiki and pointed out to her that santa claus was just their dad in a santa hat, it wasn’t the actual santa eating their mom’s mouth. tsumiki felt naive for falling for something so obvious but she can admit that she was a bit spooked that santa looked much too similar to toji. she even commented on how toji’s back looks sharp like rocks while santa’s doesn’t, that only made toji confused and you and megumi laughing at the comment.
toji came closer to tsumiki and started to chase her around the house, yelling how she’s gonna coal for christmas for peeking into her parent’s bedroom. you and megumi shook your heads but was amused at this family’s dynamic.
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★ I tried so hard not to make toji’s include smut, yall please- like it’s so hard not making this whore when it’s literally canon that he is
★ would yall believe me if i said toji’s was the longest 🧍🏽‍♀️…?
★ lemme know which one was yall fav <3
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© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗋𝗒𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
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garoujo · 7 months
Note
hiiiii !!! what are your thoughts on reader bumping into ex!gojo at a party, after not having seen him for years? his unboxing has taken a toll on me i’m patiently waiting for anyone to write fics for him 🤸🏻‍♀️
✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you don’t realise how much your heart still calls for your ex until you see him again, years later.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ contents! sort of angsty but mostly fluff! ex!boyfie gojo, ex’s to lovers sort of vibe, very much right person wrong time ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to nonnie, i’m also sorry this turned out sad snifle! i wrote it to this song so i blame that! i’m sorry i just had to post for him tonite!
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maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, you think despite the way you know you don’t mean it, as you let the drink in your hand swirl around it’s cup a few more minutes longer. it’s lost its bubbles slightly, it’s leaning more towards an hour old— still untouched as you lean yourself against the kitchen counter while your friends catch up around you.
it’s been a while since you’ve seen everyone like this, a few years atleast you’d assume and it was fun, recalling back the memories— the drunken nights and the time you spent together, the seasons you experienced. there’s a sentimental sort of feeling to it all, you realise.
everyone’s different now, not only in looks— in spirit maybe, married and settled down, running their own business or jet setting abroad. your childhood bestfriend is taller, she smiles softer now— maybe it’s the ring on her finger or the love in her life. it suits her.
“hey! you still with us?” she calls to you, just as you hear the apartment door close again— alerting you to more guests despite the way there’s probably around fifteen of you here already. you jolt slightly, sending her a smile before you’re placing down your glass and excusing yourself to the bathroom.
you allow yourself a few breaths to relax before you smile at yourself in the mirror, it’s nice being able to see everyone again— not realising how much you’d missed them and suddenly you realise that you’re so happy to have lived.
you pat yourself on the cheeks as you give yourself a silent little nod, soft sort of smile in place as you push your way through the bathroom door again— maybe a little too determined to seize the night when you send yourself into a hard chest as you clumsily leave the room.
“ah! sorry, are you okay?” you begin as you try to steady yourself but there’s hands there to keep you from falling before you even realise you’re on your way down.
“oh? it’s been so long you’re jumping into my arms already?” familiar, you think as the teasing response sounds smoothly and you can’t help the way your body seems to stiffen at the sound— like instinct. you look up and there’s a warm sort of squeeze on your heart at the crystalline gaze that looks back, cheeky grin in place.
you should’ve expected to see him here after all, gojo satoru had always been a constant in your past, up until a few years ago. he was your now ex-boyfriend after all.
he always had this air that seemed to follow him around — this noble sort of presence but he was even more handsome now, unfortunately. he’d grown a little more in height but he filled it out better now. his hair is longer but his gaze is just as pretty, as breathtaking when it meets yours.
you’re pretty sure if this were a movie there’d be a trail of women at gojo’s feet — back of their hand against their forehead and fawning for his attention.
you can still recall the nights you cried on your kitchen floor for him.
“hey, after all these years, you’re getting shy on me?” you didn’t realise you’d zoned out until you blink up to see gojo looking at you, teasing tone and his long fingers flicking gently at your forehead until you’re sending him a cute frown. he remembers that look all too well.
“no, shutup! i just didnt expect to see you.” you fall back into the dynamic quickly, like he’d never left— both of you parted ways gradually you think. it’s not that the love wasn’t there, but you just felt like your life had taken you down separate paths.
gojo satoru was your right person, wrong time is what you’d tell strangers at parties.
“are you sure? it seems you had an attack planned for my arrival, pretty suspicious i’d say.” he goads, teasing you again and you roll your eyes before you’re shoving playfully at his chest.
“you’re still so annoying.”
“hm? are you just embarrassed i figured you out? did you really think you could catch me off guard with a move like that?” you wish you could say you hate gojo, truly. but it’s been years and instead you realise that it’s quite the opposite, because he’s already got you laughing like you’re both teenagers again.
sometimes you wish you’d known him sooner, even just so you could love him longer than you can now.
“yeah right, i could totally beat you if i tried.” you laugh again, teasing as a cheeky grin settles on your expression and gojo squeezes at your shoulder playfully before you’re both finding yourself returning to the group. but the laughter doesn’t falter.
“you want a beer, satoru?” your friend asks as you both enter the lounge and you cast the snowy haired man to your right a glance before he answers. he won’t take one, he never was a drinker.
“nah, aren’t i fun enough already? it wouldn’t be fair.” he jokes, you all laugh. like old times.
the night continues and you catch yourself looking in your ex boyfriends.. in gojo’s direction a little more frequently than you’d like to admit. but you’re having fun, you realise as you all exchange jokes— even going as far as to pull up videos from your old phones, little vlogs from your days at the beach, shopping trips and more.
you breathe again, nestling back into your place on the couch as the rest of your friends get up to dance to one of your old playlists from a few years ago. you remember it well, like the soundtrack to some coming of age movie.
you allow yourself to look at him once more, to take in the cut of his features— the way his lips still upturn at the corners when he grins and the way he still talks with his hands. you think it’s cute that he still wears his hair down, still doesn’t do the top button of his shirts— you wonder if he still takes four sugars in his coffee.
you feel something twist in your chest with the thought before you look away again. you think it’s embarrassing in a way, the way you’re wanting must show when you look at him. maybe it’s because you already know the feel of his hand on yours or the soft voice he’d always use to call you out of sleep, the taste of his coffee on his lips when he’d kiss you as the sun woke up.
you liked the now, but then you remember how gojo satoru loved you and it’s like you’re aching all over again.
you breathe deep before the couch cushion to your left sinks as someone sits down and you know it’s him when it grounds you.
“you’re not dancing, gojo?” you begin before he can say anything, giggle despite the turmoil in your mind, your heart, and he sends you a soft sort of look before he chuckles.
“oh no, after all those times you told me i was a terrible dancer? it broke my heart so much, i’ll never dance again.” still a drama queen, you think to yourself as you watch him press his palm to his chest — throwing his head back against the back of the couch as he sighs.
“yeah right, you had a great dance partner to level you out back then though.” gojo laughs at that one, nudging his thigh into yours slightly when he does, but neither of you seem to pull away at the touch.
he settles down and you let the silence hang in the space where you both take a breath before he speaks again,
“satoru is fine, you know. i was always satoru to you, no?” gojo questions gently, although still trying to make it more lighthearted than awkward, and you feel the tension leave your shoulders when you exhale.
“okay then, satoru.” comes more naturally than you’d like to admit, but you’re not ashamed of it either when you notice the soft sort of glow in gojo’s eyes when you speak it with fondness.
he looks at you, nods like he’s smug, then pushes himself up to stand. emphasising how tall he is as he sends you a cheeky sort of grin, followed by his arm outstretching to offer you his hand.
“well oh great dance partner, i may need your expertise. you wouldn’t want me to embarrass my handsome self infront of all our old friends, would you?” gojo whines playfully as he bows towards you, free hand on his heart like he’s begging you for his life.. just his pride this time though.
“‘toru..” you begin, a soft sort of breathe and you wonder if he can hear the hope in it— your own hand twitching by your side.
“come on, for old times sake. you said it yourself, i cant dance without my partner there to lead me, right?” gojo satoru had always been terribly convincing, you realise as you recall all the other moments he’d whisked you off into other great things. memories that you still look fondly back on now.
“fine, for old times sake, satoru.” you finally answer before your hand is resting on his, noticing that is palm still feels warm when he pulls you to your feet.
for the love that once was, and the love that remains. 
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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rieriel · 3 months
Text
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄
「content」 1.6k+ wc, fem!reader, reader wears heels, established relationship, cunnilingus, edging, praise, fingering, pet names, just satoru putting your heels on 🎀
☆ in which: gojo satoru isn't above kneeling if it means getting to taste you
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You should have known it was a bad idea to let Satoru stay in the same room while you got ready for your weekly date nights.
And you should have known that by now, the only thing you're getting ready for is to unravel beneath him.
The man in question is seated on your shared bed, legs invitingly apart, elbows resting on each knee. He watches every step you make, from applying glitters to your eyelids to finally putting on jewelry as the finishing touch. With all the years you’re together, Satoru isn’t particularly ashamed to admit how this is one of the many things he likes doing with you. Shockingly, it’s also one of the few things that could make him go quiet.
He just sits there and watches you, without uttering a single word. To anyone who knows him, that’s as bizarre as cows flying around.
You're ready to go, but the sudden presence of a warm body looming behind you suggests otherwise.
“Satoru,” you warn, feeling his large hands holding you by the hips, his long fingers tracing patterns across the fabric of your dress.
“You look so good in this dress,” he breathes into your ear, “Can we not go, baby, please? Want you all for m’self.”
“I'm all yours,” you affirm, a soft smile playing on your lips from a rather devious idea you thought of.
Earning a satisfied hum of response from the white-haired, you turn around to face him, halting his indulgence of littering featherlight kisses in your nape down to your exposed shoulders.
You place your hands on his neck, chest against his own, and murmured in his lips, “But after we go to this restaurant, please? I’ve been wanting to go there, baby.”
Ah, you used it against him—the pet name and the pleading eyes.
You know better than anyone that he can never say no to that. It's all it takes for your lover to do your bidding in a heartbeat, because it’s no secret how much he was a goner for you. He lets everyone know that as clear as day, anyway. 
“Fine,” he pouts.
Beaming, you plant a peck on his lips, and before Satoru can chase your lips with his own, you release him to turn once again to your vanity mirror.
“Oh, by the way, can you get my black heels for me?”
“The ones I like?” Even with your back turned, you can practically see the bashful smile playing on his lips from his chirped voice.
“Yup. That one, baby.”
Without a minute passing by, Satoru again appears behind you, holding a pair of black stilettos in one hand. You're just about to grab them from him when he raises them above your reach.
“We’re going to be late, Toru.”
“We won’t,” he assures, a boyish grin materializing on his lips. And god, he is so unbelievably handsome in his crisp suit— you're starting to regret insisting on going out now.
“Let me?” he asks, head slightly tilting to the side.
“The straps could be tricky…” you trail off. Satoru doesn’t respond, but he holds your gaze before slowly going down on both knees.
All while still not breaking eye contact with you.
You know what he’s trying, and Satoru knows perfectly well it’s working.
Satoru places the heels in front of your feet and holds your left calf to slide on the left pair. Your dress rises at the slight raise of your leg, making your breath hitch at the sensation of his warm breath grazing your exposed inner thigh.
The sound of your reaction is everything he needed to make the two of you late on that dinner reservation.
As he finishes putting both straps of the heels, you wait for him to stand– your intentions clear on staking claim on his lips as payback. But all expectations were replaced with arousal building up on your center as Satoru nuzzles his nose closer to your navel, sinking inch by inch in height to reach what’s down below.
“You smell so good, baby…” he mumbles, “Let me taste you, baby, please. It will be just a taste, I promise…” you could hardly make out what he’s saying from how muffled his voice is because of how close he’s pressing his face to your front, taking your scent and letting it consume him.
The strongest— on his knees, begging just for a taste. What a sight to behold, truly.
“T-Toru,” you stuttered, “Just a taste,” you gave in, echoing his needs.
All hell breaks loose for Satoru the moment those words escape your lips. He took one more glance from your pretty flushed face down to your feet, taking his time to marvel at you. He loves you in dresses like these— short and easy to access. Not to mention how divine it hugs your tits.
His left hand, once resting in your leg, started making its way to lift the hem of your dress— enough to expose your lace panties that weren't covering much to begin with.
Oh, heavens, pray heed of his greed because there was no getting enough of you. Knowing that you wore this intentionally just for him made his cock throb and his pants to tighten. 
You let out a gasp when your lover started drawing circles on your clothed pussy, going far beyond slowly sliding his index finger back and forth in between your legs, teasing you.
“Satoru,” you hiss, “Do not tease me.”
“But you’re so wet, princess…” he hums before sliding his long finger at your arousal, “All of it for me?”
“Yes —yes, all of it, ‘s for you, toru.”
“Damn right it’s for me. This pussy is f’ me— made just for me.” 
Familiar fingers looped around the waist of your panties, gently pulling it down your knees.
Even though you’re wearing a four-inch stiletto, his face was now perfectly leveled with your pussy. And just before you prepare yourself for what he intends to, Satoru leans in to plant a wet kiss before hungrily delving his tongue in your folds making knees buckle in pleasure.
“Oh, dear god— there, keep me there..” you whimpered. He put one hand behind your right knee for support. Fingers gently tapping against your knees, as if asking you to look at him as he sloppily eats you out. 
“S-Satoru—” 
“Satoru? Oh, I thought I was dear god, baby,” he teases, smirk evident in his voice.
Satoru looked up, tongue still deep in your clit, to gaze at you. He couldn’t help but swallow hard upon seeing how you were slightly gaping with your eyes shut, obviously blissed out. Fuck, you look so pretty.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he whispered, every breath of his words fanning against your flesh, making you shiver. “Watch how good I make you feel.”
He waits for you to look at him before flicking his tongue at your wetness— the action making you instinctively grip on his white mop of hair. Satoru felt your hands aimlessly guiding his head to lap more at your cunt. 
More, more, more— you need him badly. Needy, you grind your hips against his face, strong jaw touching the sides of your inner thighs. 
Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows you’re close— so he stops, licking his lips to clean your sweetness that’s almost dripping down his chin.
“Don’t stop, toru. I– I’m close, please. Please–”
“Shhh— I know, baby. I know,” he chuckles, “Would you be a good girl and do something f’me, baby? It’s for you, I promise.”
“Anything… anything! Just please…” you plead, almost tearing. So close, you’re so close. 
Satoru was on his knees, but it felt more like you were the one at his very mercy. Every touch, every sigh, pushed you closer to the edge, the brink of a pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable.
“Put your leg on my shoulder and stand firmer. Can my pretty girl do that for me, hm?”
“I can’t, toru– too weak for it..”
“You can and you will, baby,” he interrupts your whine. 
You did as he told, and lay one of your legs over his shoulder as your other stood firmer in heels. You felt one of Satoru’s hands snaking up to your ass, holding you in place.
“See? now, that’s a good girl,” he cooed at you. Deciding you deserve a treat for your obedience, he slides two fingers in your clit– pumping them in and out while his tongue does wonders circling your cunt.
A loud moan escaped your lips, involuntary, as desire pulsed through you. Dazed and breathless, you look down at your lover only to be met with his clear sky eyes looking up at you. His eyes, dilated with need and want— all at once, revealed a hunger you know you will be paying for to satisfy.
“Tell me, baby” he dared, “should I cancel our reservation?”
The only answer Satoru got from his pretty girlfriend was her loud mewls, heavy breaths, and the shivering of hips against his hold. Your cum dripping from your clit straight to his mouth.
That’s better than a yes, he chuckles in thought.
“Yeah. I thought so, too, pretty girl,” he licks his lips before carrying you to bed to continue where you left off.
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『 ↳✧・゚ minimal proofread! :>
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haykawas · 5 months
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✩•̩̩͙*˚ THE ART OF (NOT) PULLING YOUR BEST FRIEND
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summary : You've always been good at hiding your feelings for your best friend, but when Satoru finally manages to land a date with the girl of his dreams, something seems to shift inside you. But don't worry, you have another best friend there who's more than willing to care for you.
word count : ~ 11K for all routes that are out, ~ 2.8K for this part. tags : best friend!to lovers, modern AU, best friends gojo & geto, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drama, love confessions, multiple choices standalone.
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It is known that blue is your favorite color.
Blue like the sea. Like the sky on a particularly hot day. Blue like the feathers of a magnificent peacock, and the flesh of a ripe blueberry.
His eyes are blue. They’re this piercing, icy blue you can’t seem to get away from wherever you are. – It is a coincidence that they are your favorite shade of blue, too.
You don’t know when you started liking the color blue with so much passion, and you think maybe you always have. Yet you don’t do anything about it, you don’t go out of your way to profess your love for it. You don’t seek it out and won’t admit it’s the only color that’ll ever make you feel the way you do when you look at it.
It’s okay. There are many other shades to love. It’s just disheartening that it seems to be the only one that suits you so well.
And it is this same shade of blue that is sparkling in Satoru’s eyes, screaming ‘victory’ as he comes back to your table in a confident stride. The wide grin that is stretching his pink lips is triumphant, and you know what this means.
He actually did it.
He slams the piece of paper on the table, leaning at your level to rub it in your face, his sunglasses threatening to fall off his nose. – He always looks so cute when they do that, his nose slightly scrunching to keep them from doing so.
“Ha! You owe me ten bucks.”
You roll your eyes at him, clicking your tongue in annoyance. “I’m sure she took pity on you. That, or it’s a fake number.”
You hope it is, but you would be a fool to believe that. Just a look at your best friend would be enough to understand the fact that he could get anything he would ever want. Like he loved saying, his face card never declined. – To your dismay.
“Oh I knew you’d say that, so I called the number just in case. And guess what?”
“Ugh, Satoru? That’s fucking insane.” You cringe without waiting for him to finish what he has to say.
His eyes widen comically, pointing at you with accusation. “It’s not!”
Suguru also grimaces,  “It is. Creep.”
You grin and silently mouth back the word to your white-haired friend, mocking him.
Satoru rolls his eyes, already exasperated with the both of you, “Whatever you say. While you nerds are gonna be drowning in your video games, I’ll actually be getting some action tonight.” He winks, emphasizing the word action and you feign a gag. And you don’t have to try too hard for it to come out as genuine.
Suguru chimes in, sighing, “Just don’t come crying to us when she ghosts you, man. Again.”
You hum, your chin propped up on your hand, “He sure knows how to pick ‘em, hm, Suguru?”
“She’s different, guys, come on!” He whines.
“Weren’t the three other girls before different too?“
“I believe they were!“ You say, feigning the act of pushing imaginary glasses up your nose. Suguru chuckles, and you grin at him.
“Well, y’know…” He trails off, sighing in defeat because he knows he’s been cornered. “I just really don’t wanna screw this one up.”
You raise an eyebrow, a forced smile on your lips. “We’re just fucking with you, ‘Toru.” You smirk, “But don’t worry, we’ll keep the ice cream ready just in case you come back with your tail between your legs.”
He groans, “I swear you two are perfect for each other. Always teaming up on me like that! What have I done to deserve two mean best friends?”
Suguru looks at you in amusement, and you instantly meet his eyes with a cheeky grin of your own. 
“Two pretty best friends.”
At this meaningful exchange, Satoru groans, throwing his hands in the air.
“See? My point exactly!”
You can’t help but let your lips curve into a half-smile at his antics, and you don’t notice how your eyes seem to shine so much brighter when they are laid on your best friend, but Suguru does. He knows you by heart, having spent so many days and so many nights by your side. 
At the time, you and Satoru came into a package deal as much as Satoru and him did. Naturally, after spending so many years by your side, he understands the mechanics of your brain. Sometimes, such as now, he even senses something’s wrong before you even do.
Right now, he knows that your heart aches. That it must be clenching painfully in your chest, that you must be punishing yourself for not feeling happy for your best friend when he’s been meaning to ask this girl out for weeks now. But how could you, when the mere thought of him touching and tasting someone else’s skin makes you feel like you can’t breathe? Like always, Suguru can’t help but want to protect you.
So he calls your name, and when you turn to him, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Hey, you really okay with this?”
You try to muster a grin, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and like always he sees right through you. “Me? Why wouldn’t I be okay? ‘m just worried he’ll get his hopes up for nothing, that’s all.”
He lifts a brow not quite buying your act, but he doesn’t say a thing, and you’re thankful for that.
“What do you say we give him a taste of his own medicine then?”
You arch a brow in confusion, and he waves a hand before explaining himself. 
“Remember when you used to date this Nanami guy and Satoru constantly crashed your dates with phone calls and weird texts?”
“And when he actually showed up out of nowhere at the theater and shoved himself between us! I swear I was gonna rip him to shreds.”
“You gave him the silent treatment for a week after that, I thought I was gonna go crazy with his constant blabbering.” He groans, his almond eyes slightly crinkling as he reminisces your high school days.
You scoff, amused, “He always had some lame excuses, too. Nanami ended up breaking up with me 'cause he thought I was cheating on him with that fucker.” 
“So what do you think? Up for a little fun?” He says as he looks at you with mirth in his eyes, waiting for you to catch on. When you do, you can’t help but gasp at the implications of his words.
“Are you serious?”
He grins cheekily, “Let’s go to the same place he’s taking his date, but in disguise.”
“That does sound fun…” Suguru looks at you with anticipation. “But it’s very childish.”
“Yep.”
“And he might see us.”
“That’s a possibility.”
“He’ll be pissed, too…”
“Oh, he will.” He smirks and you can’t help but mirror his expression.
“I’m in.”
“Hey! What are you two whispering about?”
“Hm? Just girl talk, you wouldn’t get it.” You answer, and you hear Suguru snicker in the back. You also can’t help the cheeky grin forming on your lips when you notice Satoru’s expression, but you don’t give him time to argue. “Hey, where did you say your date was, again?”
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That’s how you find yourself standing before the restaurant. You can’t help but scoff at the sight.
“Papa’s, seriously? It’s like he’s begging to get dumped!”
Your eyes shift to Suguru, and you burst out laughing at the sight. “You look absolutely ridiculous.” You say with a grin, and he mirrors your expression with a raised brow.
“Oh, and you don’t?”
Your eyes meet and you try to hold it in, – you’re smiling so wide it hurts your cheeks. Suguru turns his neck and averts his eyes so he doesn’t laugh, but you can see the grin stretching his lips.
“The mustache is killing me, man, I’m gonna blow our cover!” You laugh, “Take it off.”
“And ruin the vibe I went for?” He shakes his head, “Just say you want to sabotage me.”
“I do! You look way too hot in this, our cover will be blown immediately!” You tease.
He arches a brow, a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes, “Do I now?”
“Uh uh,” You nod, “I’m this close to calling off the operation just so I can rock your world.” He lets out a deep laugh, hiding his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes crinkle in amusement.
You return his smile.
What should have been a depressing evening turned into one of the funniest nights of your life. You would try your best to keep yourself from laughing while Suguru would act all serious, without a hint of a smile. He plays his part so well that he makes it even harder for you to keep up your facade. Your laughter echoes through the streets as you try hard not to attract attention, failing spectacularly when you happen to catch a glimpse of Suguru’s costume, –  especially his top hat. 
He has to be the only person in the world who’d think of dressing up as freaking Abraham Lincoln to spy on someone.
After this night, the bond between you two grows even stronger. Late-night conversations become the norm, and you’ve grown used to hanging out without Satoru.
It’s also due to the fact that Satoru would always find himself too busy to spend time with you, for some reason. He also misses on movie nights, and Satoru usually never misses movie nights.
You suspect it has to be because he’s seeing that girl from the Café.
You don’t want to think about it. Nor do you want to think about the distance that is growing between you. Yet you can’t deny that you miss him.
You miss him terribly, because he’s always been the only constant in your life and now it seems like he isn’t anymore. You’ve always shared everything with him, and him with you, so having him act so cold towards you feels strange. It feels like a knife in your heart.
You exhale, your finger hovering over the send button as you contemplate whether to send the message. Even if you don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, you refuse to let miscommunication come between the two of you.
you SATORU . you still coming tonight???:p
No. Too casual.
you wyd tonight? still on 4 movie night?;)
Ugh, too horny.
you Are you coming tonight or are you still avoiding us?
Hell no. Too truthful.
you you coming tonight?
Sent. As soon as you hit the send button, you throw your phone on the couch and bury it under a mountain of pillows. You sigh, feeling slightly stupid for freaking out over such a simple text.
But you never fight with Satoru, this is something you just don't do.
You’re so lost in your own embarrassment that you don’t see the screen of your phone light up, displaying Satoru’s contact name in bold letters.
satoru yeah i'll be there
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The scent of sugar fills the kitchen, and you’re lost in thought as you watch the bag of dried corn turn into sweet treats under the microwave’s heat. You sigh for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, and Suguru groans at the sound.
“My mom used to say sighs brought out the devil.” He lifts a brow. “At this rate I’ll have to incense the whole house when you leave.”
“Your mom’s way too superstitious, and you know that.” You roll your eyes. “But if the devil’s real I hope he takes you first. You’re a pain in my ass.”
He hums with a small smile, “Seems like you’re in a mood to me.”
“Classy. And a bit sexist.”
“You know what else’s classy? Not burning up the only bag of popcorn we have.” He throws with a smirk as he leaves the kitchen.
You curse at him under your breath and make quick work to retrieve what can be saved. When you’re done, you meet him on the sofa, and find him already sprawled out.
He scoots over to make room for you, and you let yourself fall on the cushions, propping your legs on his thighs. You place the bowl between the two of you, and there’s silence before you hear Suguru snort.
“I tried, okay? It was all burnt!”
“You’re so not talented at this.” He bites his lip to avoid laughing, while his gaze keeps flickering from the bowl to your eyes.
“Stop looking at it!” You move the bowl out of his sight, “You won’t have any if you keep making fun of me.” You threaten, and Suguru retreats, his hands raised in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright! Give it back and sit down, the movie’s starting.” 
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“I wish someone loved me like this.” 
You don’t realize you’ve said this out loud until you feel Suguru’s burning gaze on you. You don’t know if it’s because you’ve suddenly blurted out a lame, depressing confession, or because he thinks you’re crazy for saying it when you’re watching Shrek.
“I’m sure there is.”
You scoff, “Yeah, right.”
You turn your gaze back to the TV, but you can’t ignore the look he’s giving you. You try to ignore it, but he doesn’t let it go. And you know he has something to say. Something you won’t like.
“What?” You finally blurt out, appraising him with narrowed eyes.
“When are you going to tell him?”
“Tell who?”
“Don’t play dumb.” He gives you a blank stare, unimpressed by your act. “Everyone and their mother knows you have it bad for Satoru.”
“Suguru…” You groan.
“Go on, tell me I’m wrong.”
Your mouth opens to try and muster up a lie, but you can’t come up with anything. You can’t lie about this, and he knows it.
He smiles, “See? You can’t even deny it.”
“He has a girlfriend.”
“Oh, did he tell you? Or did you just pull this one out of your ass?”
You roll your eyes, pushing him away. He chuckles, enjoying the sheer embarrassment displayed on your face. 
“You know he didn’t. But come on! You and I both know he never misses movie night, and he’s been bailing on us for weeks now.” You frown, “What kind of best friend does that?”
Suguru hums. “Yeah, sure. A best friend.”
You look at him with arched brows. He’s testing your limits, and while you’re used to this side of him, you’re not in the mood to play. At this point, you’ve both drowned out the sound of the TV, you glaring at him for forcing you to face the truth, and him just waiting for you to come to terms with your own feelings.
You let out a humorless laugh, throwing your hands in the air, “You know what?” 
“Yes, I’m in love with Satoru! So what? Do you expect me to run to his house and confess my undying love for him before it’s ‘too late’?” You exclaim, and you’re too engrossed in your speech to notice Suguru’s panicked expression as he looks over your shoulder, or his hand gestures signaling you to cut the conversation short.
You don’t realise you’re no longer alone until the sound of movement startles you. You turn around with a jump, and what you see makes your blood run cold. Satoru is standing in the doorway, his presence having gone unnoticed until then. You can see the shock on his face, a mixture of surprise and confusion.
You’re paralyzed. 
You feel like the sick butt of a joke. And if the fact that your childhood best friend heard you profess your love for him wasn't enough to make you wish you were dead, it’s the look on his face that crushes you the most.
His eyes search for yours in hope you’ll explain yourself, and it makes you want to disappear from the surface of the Earth.
You never wanted him to know. You never wanted him to look at you like this. Like… he pitied you.
Suguru extends an arm to hold you back, but he’s a few seconds too late. You can’t bear this, so much that you don’t let anyone say a single word before you flee the apartment, ducking under Satoru’s arm without sparing him a glance.
You absolutely won’t stand there and listen to him apologize for not feeling the same way you do.
You refuse to feel your best friends’ sorry glances on you as they comfort you. You know it’s cowardly, that you should just stayed and talked about the elephant in the room, or just lied your way out of it.
You didn't, though. You fled, and the shame is eating you alive, but you couldn't stay there.
Not today. Your dignity won’t let you.
Yet, it seems like fate has other plans for you, because you hear quick, familiar,  footsteps hurrying towards you.
And you know it’s him. 
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Him? What do you mean by him? Help a poor writer out!
Suguru Geto, who else?
Of course it's Gojo Satoru.
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hello hello, welcome to my standalone first choose your own adventure!! there are three routes to this story (one has two possible branches), two are already out, one is coming soon! i absolutely loved working on this, although this took lots of time. i hope you enjoy it!
rbs are much appreciated <3
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starsinmylatte · 4 months
Text
How to (not) Study for an Anatomy Exam
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI
Length: 2.1k
You're in medical school with Shoko, but she's bailed on your group study session. Good thing an old friend turns up to help... Wait, what was the next chapter on, again?
Tags: Oral (m receiving), the awakening of a dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, praise
Join my taglist here!
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You pushed the eraser end of the pencil further into your brow, groaning as you forced yourself to read just one more page….. But, then again, this was also your fifth “last page” in a row. Shoko had abandoned your group study session hours ago to go out drinking, and your fatigue had finally set in. 
“Ugh, maybe if I force myself to read it out loud,” you muttered, shifting restlessly. 
“The amygdala is an integral part of the lim-” The door opened with a firm click, and you trailed off in surprise, dropping your head back against the couch pillow with an exasperated sigh. 
“Satoru, I swear to god, if you interrupt me again, I will personally shove-” 
A low chuckle interrupted your threat, “It’s just me. Please finish your sentence, though. That threat against Gojo did sound promising.” 
You groaned, draping the heavy medical textbook over your face to hide the way your cheeks flushed at the sound. “Nanami, I thought you were working tonight.” 
“I was,” he acknowledged. You could hear him walk across the room, and the couch cushion suddenly dipped with his additional weight. Nanami sighed and sat something down on the coffee table with an audible clink. You could hear the sound of a canned drink being opened, and the delicious, blessed scent of coffee filled the air. 
Overly eager for the sweet, sweet hit of caffeine, you bolted upright fast enough to launch the textbook off your face. It fell and hit your thigh, drawing a slight whine from your lips as you snatched the coffee from Nanami’s outstretched hand. You raised it to your lips greedily, instantly downing most of it. 
“I was working tonight, but I clocked out two hours ago,” he continued smoothly, “Do you know what time it is?” 
You pressed the lip of the can to your chin, your expression mildly guilty as you purposefully avoided looking at your long-time friend. “I was only going to review one more chapter.” 
Nanami simply picked his own can off the table and opened it. Your excuse had apparently fallen on deaf ears; he took a slow drink as you pouted, chuckling at the expression on your face. “Shoko texted me and asked me to come check on you. She hadn’t heard from you since she left.” 
“We have an exam next week. I don’t know how she can be so carefree when there’s so much to learn,” you muttered. “I don’t need a babysitter just because I chose to study instead of going drinking.” 
Slowly, Nanami reached out and placed his hand under your chin, tipping your head towards him. His expression was slightly cross, but you were preoccupied with much more important things. The dark suit your “long-time friend” wore fit him unfairly well, and seeing him dressed up only worsened the way you actually felt about him. You’d nursed a crush on him for years, and at this point, you were determined to take that secret to your grave. 
The other glaringly obvious thing slipped out of your mouth before you could formulate a more intelligent sentence. “I… I can see your forehead now,” you stammered. 
Nanami arched a single, golden eyebrow in mild amusement. “I got a haircut yesterday.”
You stared at him. The way his golden hair was swept back tugged at your already suffering heart; it was so mature, so achingly fitting for Nanami. It felt like a small eternity passed as your tired mind unraveled. 
Were his shoulders always this broad? His eyes are such a beautiful color. Oh shit, his hand is under my chin still…. W-were they always this big? I wonder what they would feel like-
“One more chapter!” You squealed loudly, wishing you could trade your reverse curse technique in for the ability to phase through the floor. “One more chapter, and then I’ll take a break.” 
“One more chapter, and then you’ll get some sleep,” Nanami corrected, removing his hand from your chin. You felt a small pang of disappointment at the loss of his touch, but you shrugged it off. 
“Fine,” you conceded, mentally shoving the respectable, hard-working part of your brain back in charge. 
Nanami settled back into his corner of the couch, taking another sip of his coffee. “Can I help you somehow? I have no idea how this type of studying works.” 
He gestured vaguely at the stack of medical books, and you tried to stifle a giggle. “Here, you can quiz me using the pre-chapter questions.”
Nanami nodded, turning his focus to the textbook, and you flipped it open, happy to have him there to help you finish strong… until you were brutally reminded what the next chapter was. You blankly stared at the page titled “Male Reproductive Anatomy” until you closed the cover and stood without another word. Forget phasing through the floor; you wanted to teleport directly to the North Pole and never return. 
“On second thought, I think I’ll just go to bed now,” You looked at the blank wall for moral support, face crimson red.
“I mean, I could still help you study… If you wanted..” He offered nonchalantly. 
You whipped your head back around to look at Nanami, whose cheeks were dusted with pink. For a brief moment, he was blushing like the teenage boy you had once offered to share headphones with, but as he stood, his deep brown gaze locked into yours, and you could only see the calm, capable man he had grown into.  “But I don’t think we will need the textbook.” 
You nodded slowly, and Nanami wordlessly scooped all of your textbooks and study materials into his arms. The two of you made the trip up the stairs to your room in record time. He shoved everything onto your desk haphazardly, opting to take you into his arms instead.  
“How long?” He murmured, his deep coffee-colored gaze full of warmth, a warmth you suddenly realized that Nanami had always reserved for you. “How long have we tip-toed around this?” 
You shivered despite the heat of his body as the man you’d loved for years cradled you like a precious flower. His large hands gently rubbed your back, coaxing a sigh from your lips. 
“Too long,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his. It was gentle, almost reverent at first, and Nanami sighed, deep and rumbling, as he pulled you even closer. Your lips parted briefly before meeting again, the embrace growing more passionate by the second. 
Nanami kissed you like he was trying to commit your taste to his memory like he’d simply die without your lips against his. You were no less eager, reaching up to cup his jaw and pressing your other hand against the swell of his bicep.
Growing bolder, you maneuvered him back until the back of his knees hit your desk chair. Nanami took the hint, parting from the embrace to undo his suit jacket and sit. He gazed up at you, eyes half-lidded and hazy with lust, and grinned lazily. “C’mere then.”
He reached out to pull you onto his lap, but you sidestepped with a wink. Instead, you opted to sink onto your knees, silently delighted by the way his eyes widened in surprise. Ever so slowly, you nudged his legs apart and crawled between them to rest your cheek against his knee. You hummed playfully, tilting your head up to smile at him innocently, “I thought you wanted to help me study… I think I can do that better from here.” 
Nanami dropped his head back against the chair, swearing under his breath. He looped a finger into his tie and quickly ripped it off. It fell to the side unceremoniously, and your grin grew at his usual composure beginning to crack. 
You stroked the inside of his leg with your nails, using just enough pressure for Nanami to feel the touch through his suit pants. He shuddered, and a wicked thought popped into your mind. You grinned again, “Or, if you’ve changed your mind, I could always ask Gojo. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 
It was an incredibly empty threat; you both knew that, but it still served its intended purpose. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Nanami sat up, his gaze dark and intense as he leaned down to caress your jaw. The touch would’ve been warm and affectionate at any other time, but this one was slow, controlled, and achingly possessive. 
“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking tease.” He growled, and the words shot straight to your core. Nanami slowly hooked his thumb over your kiss-swollen bottom lip, forcing them to part. You drew in a shaky breath, and it was his turn to smile. 
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was silken, dangerously quiet. Sparks of molten pleasure flooded your body, and your brain went fuzzy as you nodded. Nanami slipped the rough pad of his thumb over your tongue, slowly stroking it, toying with you as he thought for a moment. You whimpered involuntarily at the initial press of his thick finger, fighting off the urge to lave your tongue over it. He'd almost seem disinterested if you didn’t know him so well, but you could see his eyes glitter with a potent mix of approval and lust.
Nanami paused the movement of his thumb but left it in place to weigh down your tongue. He tenderly shushed your whine of protest and continued to speak, “If you’re good and finish your studying tonight, I’ll reward you….” 
More white-hot pleasure coiled in your stomach, and your pussy throbbed in response. “Mmmmmhmmm,” you managed around his thumb, looking up at him with your best doe eyes. 
He chuckled again, pulling his thumb out and smearing the leftover wetness across your lips. You eyed the obvious strain of his erection greedily, reaching forward to trace its outline. Nanami groaned, his cock twitching even with the slight pressure. “Eager for this, pretty girl?” 
“You have no idea,” you murmured, quickly undoing his belt and pulling his clothing aside just enough to free his thick cock. You bit your lip as you watched the swollen, leaking tip brush against the material of his dress shirt, leaving a tiny smear of precum on the fabric. Nanami hissed at the sensation, tangling one of his large hands in your hair, partially to hold your hair back and partially desperate for something to ground him. You moved even closer to his lap, leaning down to lap at his cockhead. 
He moaned outright at the first touch of your tongue; you began to explore every agonizingly beautiful inch of him, teasing his shaft with your fingers and plush lips. Nanami’s hand dug into your hair as you swirled your tongue around his tip and swiped it over the top to lap up his pre-cum. His hand clenched reflexively at the blinding pleasure, pulling your hair harshly without even meaning to. 
Nanami froze, about to apologize profusely, but you moaned wantonly, plush lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock. He cursed and barked out a low laugh as the vibrations shot straight through him, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to…. Did you like that?”
You nodded as vigorously as you could manage, taking his cock even further into your mouth and nestling his swollen tip snugly into the pouch of your cheek. Drool fell from your lips, trailing down your chin as your tongue laved over his shaft, but you were far too gone to care. You cupped his heavy balls through the fabric of his expensive underwear, massaging them, and Nanami almost came on the spot. 
He twitched and groaned, breath heavy and uneven as you utterly destroyed the normally stoic man. Nanami ran his other hand back through his hair, his breathing heavy as he took a minute to appreciate the sight of you drunk on his cock. 
His balls tightened almost painfully, and Nanami moaned again, low and needy. “Need to stop…. Gonna cu-”
You shot him an incredibly devious, lust-filled look before pulling away and opening your mouth, sticking out your tongue to catch every drop. Nanami hissed at the sight, stroking his shaft furiously. It only took a few more seconds for him to fall apart with a strangled cry, his cum painting your mouth pearly white. His hands slowly pumped up and down, milking the remnants of his orgasm onto your pretty, pink tongue. 
“You’re perfect…. gorgeous…. a goddess… mine now.” Nanami panted. 
Your pussy fluttered as you watched him fall apart, and you ground your thighs together, desperate to find some relief from the ache in your core as you made a small show of swallowing. Nanami only took a few seconds to scoop you up from the floor and deposit you on the bed. 
“Do I get my reward now?” You teased, voice slightly hoarse. 
Nanami looked at you, his brown eyes filled with such sincerity that your heart fluttered. “I’m going to spoil you until you’re sick of me.”
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Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @belle-smith07 @orangecremepuff @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @Msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
Text
frenzy— gojo satoru x gn!reader
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a/n: yet another silly thing with megumi and gojo to fill space while I finish other stuff
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you take a deep breath before staring in front of you.
you’re going to murder someone, particularly a 6 foot 5 man with hair similar to that of a paintbrush.
the only problem is that he is your fiancé and you would probably be the first suspect when they investigate the oh so mysterious murder—if the daggers you’re glaring are anything to go by.
the second suspect is probably the 11 year old next to you, also known as megumi.
satoru is causing yet another scene as he purchases his favorite sweets from the cute old lady at your local shop.
his face is stuck to the glass as he grins, “I will take this, this, this, oo and that! and lastly that!”
“can’t we leave him?” the boy grumbles.
you sigh, “unfortunately not.”
“babe! honey! sweetheart! I got you some stuff!” he appears right in front of your eyes with frankly more sweets and food than you physically stomach.
he rummages around the bags, “I know this is your favorite, especially this!”
sighing, you cup his face and make him stare you dead in the eyes, “stop spending so much money! I don’t need that much!”
he pouts and his arms wrap around your waist, “what’s the point of my money if I can’t spoil you with it?” he feels the stare of megumi then looks down and scowls at him, “what do you want?”
megumi rolls his eyes and looks away, radiating so much sass and it offends your fiancé beyond words.
satoru gasps then props his hands on his lips, “I got you this limited edition pistachio cupcake! be thankful!”
megumi’s eyes snap to satoru’s and retorts, “it isn’t thanksgiving.”
satoru quirks an eyebrow and uses his hand to fan the air towards his nose. he takes a deep breath and puts his hands together, “I smell…bitch!”
“satoru!”
“sorry!”
they have a glaring contest for a small while, and you simply take some of the bags from satoru’s hand and make your way down the street.
it doesn’t take long before a pair of small feet makes its way into your peripheral and another gigantic pair follows suit.
satoru effortlessly takes the bags from you, carrying them in one arm, while his other one is linked with your own. on the other hand, megumi’s hand gently slips into your own. you give his hand a little squeeze and he gladly returns it back.
satoru has his infinity turned off because what could go wrong in a peaceful moment like this?
a screech is heard from your side. it’s girly, squeaky, and so high pitched to the point you want to smack its owner so badly.
unfortunately though, it’s your fiancé, and he is being ruthlessly attacked by a squirrel
it probably fell from the tree above, but why would it attack satoru?
probably because the idiot accidentally kicked the tree and, as a result, made the poor thing’s entire stock of food fall the ground, crumbled and unusable for poor mister squirrel.
karma is a bi—biscuit. a very bad biscuit.
“y/n, get it off!”
“you’ve been chosen as a sacrifice for the squirrel king, satoru.”
“but—“
“oh thank heavens! we will finally get rid of him,” megumi murmurs.
“why you little bra—AH!”
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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rizsu · 4 months
Text
professional guide on how to boyfriend jujutsu kaisen ( men ).
⤹ list ﹢ gojō satoru, sukuna ryōmen, chōsō.
﹙ syn ﹚ having near-to-zero experience with serious romantic relationships, it's time to teach them how to romance. the journey won't be easy, but the results will hopefully be fruitful.
extra. songs: betcha (bbh), seven (jk), very nice (svt).
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week one : how to flirt as if you were shakespeare. note. refrain from using big words because they sound ‘cool’.
GOJO SATORU — "you're hating on my vocabulary?"
slowly, but very surely, you can feel your stress-meter rise to its peak. if someone were to animate your current expression, there will be three veins protruding out on your forehead to show your stress. it's almost as if it's second-nature for satoru to be annoying. he isn't doing it on purpose, unfortunately, it's just the way he is.
i should've ignored his call, a voice in your head speaks, i really should've. you were enjoying your own presence, simply lazing around during your off-day when three rings disrupted the peace. groaning, you reluctantly picked it up.
"hello—"
"come to enha's bakery, PLEASE," satoru's rushed voice spoke, immediately ending the call after his request-demand.
annoyance dawned and slowly transitioned into confusion. first, he needs to fix his habit of cutting you off. second, with the tone of his voice, maybe you should go.
big mistake.
not only was he chewing your ears off with talking, he also ate half of your pastry. you weren't able to get a full sentence in, he just kept going. dressed in suit and tie, hair styled and gelled up, satoru looked handsomely professional. according to what you've gathered from his rambling, he's been set up with one of the higher ups' daughter for business purposes. he needs to woo her or he's gonna lose a significant amount of pay. the problem? well, his flirting skills aren't all that. his confidence can help him, but it'll only help for a fraction of the date.
"what's the issue? you're handsome," you started, sliding your pastry back to you. "you should be able to woo her with your face alone."
"you are not wrong—"
"i'm never wrong," you cut him off.
"let me speak. anyway, i was informed that she isn't one for looks alone. i don't care about her, but she's the daughter of some high fucker," his voice reeked of defeat.
you weren't well-knowledged in satoru's field of work, but you knew he had it against the "higher ups." well, you had no choice but to know. satoru often thought of you as someone he can be free with — so, in conclusion, you were the victim of his word-vomit moments.
the two of you fell silent, thinking about solutions to save satoru. eyeing the pastry, you pondered your brain. there has to be a way to help satoru. perhaps some walkie-talkies? no, those are too loud. follow him into the restaurant and monitor his behaviour? no, that's too much work. crash his date and ask him why he's cheating on you? no, that'll probably end in your death.
satoru himself is deep in thought, already annoyed at the date that's going to become the bane of his existence in eight hours from now. should he bring you with him? maybe, but you'll deny his offer. should he ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend? no, he'd rather ask without the "pretend."
oh he's fucked.
i'm so fucked.
"wait," you leaned into the table, sporting an expression that says 'i have an idea'.
"yes?" satoru mirrors you, eyes speaking 'tell me'.
"what if i teach you how to flirt? we should have enough time to teach you how to boyfriend, right?" your idea was good. it turned the gears in both minds.
satoru opens his mouth but presses it into a thin line. there's an obstacle in the way of making this idea perfect.
"sounds good but.. the date's... tonight."
"you are fucked."
he nods at your response, feeling the salt rubbing in his wound. i guess i should just—
"but, if we go now we'll have enough time. it's 11AM, we can do it," you tapped your index finger twice on your phone's screen, showing satoru the time. if you move now, success is evident.
"let's go then," agreeing, he stands up, stuffing his car keys into his pocket and opening his wallet.
you've run out of pillows and whiteboard markers. the last two hours were spent either scribbling nonsense on a mini-whiteboard or throwing objects at satoru. the teaching isn't working. every lesson you've gone through ended in satoru's failure. is it on purpose? you hope it isn't.
"satoru, for the last time, that does not sound like a real word!" your hand slapped the table, physically showing your frustration.
groaning, satoru throws his head back, "you said use poetic words!"
"what part of scrumdiddlyumptious sounds poetic to you?!" you deadpanned at him.
he slouches further down the couch, grabbing his phone to search the word on google. it took him only one minute to find the word and its definition. raising up from slouching, he leans over the coffee table, stretching an arm out to show you the word.
"scrumdiddlyumptious — adjective · informal 1. (of food) extremely tasty; delicious. 2. (of a person) very attractive."
reluctant to admit defeat, you weaponized the word being informal against him, "it's not formal! you will not use it."
satoru's high of being right dies down immediately. his mouth twitches, eyes looking at you with disbelief.
"babe, you cannot be serious right now."
"babe, i am so serious right now," you mocked him, not thinking too deep into his nickname. there's no meaning behind it anyway. you, too, use babe as platonic name.
eventually, satoru tuned out your voice. he returned back to his previous slouching position, staring at you blankly as your words go in one ear and out the other.
it didn't take long for you to notice his dejected aura. does he hate it that much? you wondered, feeling a slight pity for him.
"don't worry, satoru. it's just one date."
"i will be worrying," satoru counters you, already sour at the date-to-come.
if he were to be honest, the date isn't the problem, nor is the flirting. he believes his flirting skills to be at a decent level. he also doesn't mind spending money on others. it's just that he doesn't want to entertain her. maybe, just maybe, if it were you, he'd be more excited.
you didn't say anything after him, only shooting him an annoying smile. seriously, you don't know what's worrying him. he's basically every girl's eye candy — not to mention, he looks so much like a boyfriend right now. that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if others can see what you're seeing, they'll understand. his white fitted tee accentuates his upper body's muscles, the black sweatpants do its job, his hair that's still styled, and the silver wristwatch on his hand. simple, yet sexy.
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SUKUNA RYOMEN — "i'm too old for this shit."
sukuna, your sweet sukuna. your sukuna who's most likely weighing out which option is the better one to shut you up. he doesn't know why he agreed to listen to your rambles at midnight, but he's too far in to call it quitsies.
according to what you told him, you gained the idea of teaching him how to update his romance. it all came crashing to you when you were in the third-quarter of an episode of some random dating show. you blanked out most of the episode, not paying attention as the main objective of watching it was to not stare into nothing while eating.
the show itself didn't interest you, but the concept did. the participants were blindfolded, being told to use their judgement of character to choose their date. they'd have to rely on their personalities and voices to attract someone — a pretty neat idea. looks aren't everything. unfortunately, they might just be for sukuna if he doesn't work on his attitude.
often does sukuna act like he's a fifty-five-years-old office worker named penelope in the management department: old, easily annoyed, and always has something to complain about. you're probably the only human on earth who can handle sukuna for more than a day. of course, this is due to you being similar to him — if not then exactly like him. your attitudes fit together like jigsaw puzzle pieces.
sukuna's hands are clasped together behind his head, one leg raised on the bed, and torso out in the open for everyone to view. he's actively listening to you, giving his judgement here and there.
you're sitting with your legs criss-crossed, a pillow in the middle of your thighs, and hands speaking their own language. the habit of using your hands expressively when talking will never leave you.
"...so, if you were to find a girl, you neeed to be kind! no one likes a man with a stick up his ass," you warned sukuna, moving your index finger side-to-side.
"you do," sukuna says, raising an eyebrow at you.
unfortunately, he left you speechless — but not for long! you soon regained your speaking skills after realizing you don't have a good comeback.
coughing two times, you started your lesson again, "anyyyway, always tell her she's beautiful, gorgeous, breathless, or whatever. everyone loves a little compliment about their appearance!"
almost as if it's an automatic setting, sukuna replies, "what if she's facially challenged?"
"OH—" your jaw dropped. "sukuna, you can't just say that!"
he re-positions himself, this time laying on his side with his arm supporting his head.
"if someone's visually impaired i'm telling them."
you sighed, feeling disappointed at his brutual honesty, "what do you even mean by visually impaired?"
"they're ugly," he shrugs.
his tone isn't serious, implying that he's joking but you know he isn't. sukuna's a man of his word; the truth is what leaves his mouth every time. you shouldn't worry — you really, really shouldn't, but what if that's what he thinks about you? are you facially challenged in his eyes? you've gone silent, allowing yourself to drown in the thoughts.
sukuna notices your silence, sighs, and jabs your side with his foot.
"if you're thinking that i believe you're ugly, then stop," he begins, continuing the foot-jabbing-at-your-side-movement when you don't respond. "you're beautiful, believe me. you know i don't lie."
that catches your attention. you feel a sudden heat creeping up the back of your neck. keeping your voice low, you questioned him, still unsure of whether he's being truthful or not, "are you lying?"
"i swear," his voice is firm, reaching his free hand out to your thigh. physical contact to him is very important!
you return to the silence, only this time you lock your eyes in sukuna's. it's up to you to believe whether he's lying or not, and honestly, you don't care. you know he never lies, and you rather enjoy your fantasy instead of the harsh reality ( if he's truly lying ).
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CHOSO — "man, fuck all that."
throughout your entire life you never expected to meet someone like choso. he is, in your words, a bitch boy. acts like a bitch, very expressive with his facial expressions, sarcastic, a male, and the worst of all, a little thief.
you humbly thought baking with choso would've been a good idea for celebrating the end of your finals. oh you were so wrong. he's messy, ate half the chocolate chips, and has been stealing spoons of cookie batter. when you confronted him, he simply said, "we can always make more," and shrugged. the audacity!
there's only so much choso someone can handle before they explode.
"you dumb fuck, how can you get a wife with this behaviour?!" you scolded, slapping his hand away from the freshly baked batch of cookies with a whisk.
he immediately retreats his hand, looking at you with an expression that says 'have you gone insane?'
"don't look at me like that," you warned, raising an eyebrow at his very well-hidden annoyance at you.
choso rolls his eyes, this time reaching the uninjured hand for the sprinkles. he sneakily slides the packet to him, intensely watching you to make sure you don't happen to see him committing such a crime. mouthing a little "yes!" at his victory, he empties half the sprinkles in his hand and throws it into his mouth.
"an’ wha’ if i ‘on't care about a wife," his words are muffled due to his mouth being filled with the sprinkles. he tries his best to hide the crunch sound, lowering his head each time he needs to crunch on some.
your back's still turned to him, simply too busy with monitoring sugar-soon-to-be-caramel on the stove.
"you're gonna have to care soon. you don't wanna die alone!" you nagged, making a point to him.
his right eyebrow raises at your words, lips ready to move at your hypocrisy, "you yourself said you don't want a partner!"
"at this point," you stopped, turning around to face choso. "i'm gonna have to teach you how to be a romantic young man."
"what are you implying...?"
"it's time for dating lessons."
"no, thank you."
unfortunately, choso has no say in this household. he had to listen. you sat him down on the chair, making sure he focuses with all his attention and doesn't steal any of the desserts. believe choso when he said he tried to take you seriously. he really did, but your messy apron along with vigorously hand-mixing batter with a serious expression as you talked his ear off caught him off-guard.
"sometimes you even have to get on your knees, choso! i'm telling you."
"i'm not doing all of that," he disagrees.
"oh, trust me. when you're in love you will," you spoke, resting the hand-mixer down to draw an invisible heart in the air.
he doesn't give you a verbal response. instead, he squints his eyes at you. when one's gone, another is born. when one stress is gone, another is born ( your nagging ). he doesn't like it one bit, but at least it's coming from you. he'd rather have you down his ears — whether it's by using your vocals or channeling your inner mother and scolding him.
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svgvru · 5 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑?
creds to @y-yearning : PUSSYHAVER OLDER DILFIE GOJO ND MID-TWENTIES OR TWENTIES READER FUCKING GOJO REFUCKINGBLOG OPPELASLELEKJBRHFVG I NEED IT.
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YOU ALWAYS ADORED YOUR NEIGHBOR. satoru gojo was a sweet man, albeit one with a shit ton of personality. he was much older than you, you estimate around double your age, but he didn't look old, at least from your yard. in fact, he was quite musclar, the white stuble on on his jaw, and the small streaks of grey in his hair were the only indicators of his age. but when you first came into the neighborhood, fresh out of college and a newer home owner, he showed you the ropes. he really was nice, and prettier upfront.
satoru gojo also had kids. he a husband of his own, seemingly settled down and happy. although, that wasn't exactly true. you had no way of knowing, but satoru's arranged marriage wasn't exactly a thing he was happy about.
but when the adorable smile of yours was directed his way in the mornings, he couldn't help but be just a little happier.
this older neighbor of yours give you tips to keep your lawn neat, listen to your random array of hobbies--he'd even indulge in them so you were lonely, he'd happily accept whatever sweets you'd get him, and he'd listen to all of your problems. he spent more bonding time with his younger neighbor, than with his husband.
one problem he listened to in particular, was money. as someone built from old money he has plently.
"why don't you come babysit for my kids? me and my husband are going out this weekend, we could use someone to watch them." once he stated his price you immediately nodded, eager to receive such a large amount of money per hour. plus, you had never been inside of his house, you wondered what his style was. "gladly!"
and when the day came, you were quite nervous. they were going to be out pretty late, so you brought clothes to sleep in and any necessities you needed.
satoru opened the door with his warm dimpled smile when you knocked. "glad to see you! and welcome to my home," he stepped back and allowed you through the door. you looked in awe as your eyes scanned the interior. the house looks bigger on the inside, and it was beautifully furnished. "your house is beautiful, i don't want to step inside," you chuckle lightly, feeling as if you might ruin the rich air of it if you fully stepped inside. satoru laughs, "c'mon."
when you step inside, he closes the door before calling two names. you see two little kids run towards him. the bigger one, likely around five, seemed to have a lot of energy. "this is saori," satoru puts his hand on her head. she had long straight white hair with a few black streaks in them.
"this is five-year-old i warned you about," satoru starts, the girl interrupts him with a frown, "hey!" satoru chuckles, "she has a lot of energy."
the smaller kid trotts up to him. "this is shiro," satoru picks up the kid, holding him gently in his arms. the kid looks exactly like him, bright blue eyes, dimpled smile, and fluffy white hair alike. "this is the three-year-old. he's a lot calmer than saori."
the kids looked pretty nice, it didn't seem like you were going to have any problems. satoru explains the rules, telling you their schedules and anything else. "come on, suguru! i'm ready to go!" a man with straight black hair walks down stairs dressed in a matching suit with satoru. "i'm here, damn."
they soon leave, satoru waving goodbye, and now you're left with the kids.
"let's have a good afternoon, yeah?"
you yawned and checked the clock, nestled comfortably on the couch. it was pretty late, and the kids had been gone to sleep. your eyes drifted shut, only opening when you hear the large slam of the front door. you shoot up, looking worried before you realize it's satoru. yet, he looks visibly pissed off. "wha- oh. you could've slept in the guest room y'know," satoru mumbles, carding his hand through his hair. he visibly relaxes when he sees you aswell.
"what's wrong? if you don't mind me asking," you ask him, tilting your head. you slowly get up off of the couch and walk towards him.
"just a fight, nothing to worry about," satoru pinches the bridge of his nose. "you look pretty upset, i think is something to worry about . . . just a little." your hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. and even in the darkness of the room, you could tell his eyes were watering.
it felt wrong how close you were, but you couldn't let him be so sad. his smile was one of the things you loved most about him, you hated when you saw it disappear.
when your hand cupped his cheek, you felt as if you crossed a line, but it also felt so right. "gojo—" his lips smash against yours, interrupting your words. it was wrong, but you couldn't help but kiss him back, parting your lips and entangling your tongue with his. "satoru," he whispers, sepreating your lips only to put them back to together. "call me satoru."
the man is taller than you, his arms wrap around your neck as you kiss, feet drifting closer and closer to the couch.
"mm, fuck--" he whispers into your lips, falling back on the comfortable cushion of the couch, pulling you down on top of him. it was adorable how desprate he was, perhaps something was really wrong with his marriage. but that was a thought for after this. your current thoughts are consumed by the older man below you.
satoru whimpers, diamond eyes glossy as he looks up at you. fuck--he sounded sweet. and he looked the part too.
his thigh rubs at your growing buldge, the look in his eyes full of desire. "goj- satoru, are you sure-" satoru's trembling lip interrupts you, "please." please? you never thought he was the type to plead. you nod, "okay."
your hands messily undress him, tearing off his suit until you get to his boxers with confusion. "oh! i- i forgot to tell you," satoru chews on his bottom lip, hands covering the large damp spot on his boxers. although his face turns red when he sees the glint in your eyes. "is- is that fine?" your eyes flicker to his, almost angry he would assume you wouldn't think it was fine.
slipping off his boxers, your mouth watering at the sight. satoru gojo's pussy puffy and hairy, in your face.
your face dips between his legs, your lips mouthing at his pussy. you spread his pussy with your thumbs, licking and sucking at him. "a-ah!" satoru whines, legs twitching as you make out with his cunt. "oh fuck! you're so good, so much--fuck!" his eyes roll and cross, hands entangled in your hair. "oh! 'm cumming! 'm cumming!"
his legs clamp around your head as he squirts in your face. your neighbor, just squirted in your face.
you lift your head from your legs, panting and licking your lips. satoru's eyes flutter, looking up at you with a shaky smile. sitting up, you smile at his throbbing clit. "didn't know you could-" satoru yelps when you lift up his lower half to your face. your lips attach to his clit, sucking and licking on his pink clit. satoru laughs, "you're so energetic! that because your young?"
your eyes look down and lock with his. "i just like your body," you mumble into his pussy, "so good."
satoru whines as you eat him out. "gunna squirt in m'face again?" you whisper, closing your eyes at his taste. satoru doesn't answer, although you can guess why his legs shut around your head again. strings of moans and your name leaves his lips. "pleasepleasepleeease," he whispers.
his legs tremble as he squirts with a yell again. satoru's legs fall slack in your hold before you set his lower half down. satoru looks up at you with low eyes, seeing his release all over your lips and chin.
"need you do that again. just on m'cock this time," you whisper pushing down your grey sweats, staring down at him with lustful eyes. satoru smiles, spreading his glistening thighs for you.
all thoughts or awareness of anything else are thrown from his head when his eyes lock onto your cock, when he fills the tip push between his puffy and red folds, when you sink into him and fill him to the brim. fuck- you're bigger than suguru. "mmph! f-fu . . . hah," satoru swallows when your cock stretches his cunt perfectly, like you were made for him.
you lean down, pushing his flexing thighs with you. his calves rest on your shoulders and you interwine his fingers with yours, holding them above his head.
"f-fuck! you feel s'good," you moan, focusing on the wet sound of his cunt taking your cock. and clearly the squelching and the wet skin slapping was turning him on as his walls squeeze you as if not wanting to leave. you lean and press your lips to his, smiling at how his eyes were unfocused and cross. your tongues messily tangible, saliva dripping down the corner of his lips.
"ngh—! a-ah . . . AHnNg!" no thoughts were in the older man's head when he felt your cum shoot into him, the warmth making him smile as he milks your cock, cumming himself.
his awareness and judgement had long been thrown into the dark depths of his mind. him nor you even noticed suguru watching you with a boner straining at his pants. then again, how could he focus? his pussy felt a bit too good, better than he's felt in a while simply because of work interference.
saori always wanted a little sister.
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𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗔𝗡 𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗘𝗘? JOIN?
current employees: @pulpbeing @flimsyichigo @honeybleed @icaruien @banquetlord @whiteholesun
<3 this is took me 4ever, but i've going thru a writer's block, i feel proud of myself lol. i don't know if anyone is going to like this, but this is what popped in my head. y'all have also thoroughly convinced me that satoru is a squirter... btw i was thinking about this image while making this. don't even ask where i got it from :D
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vnusoki · 5 days
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⋆⑅˚₊ THE ALIEN STAGE . . .
⊹ ࣪ ˖ synopsis. sing or die. the alien stage determines your fate, but what if you lover was your opponent ?
⊹ ࣪ ˖ warnings. satoru gojo x reader. hint of suguru geto x reader. death. angst. hurt/no comfort. fluff. consists of flashbacks and recalling memories while singing. kissing. making out, and illusions to intercourse. based on the world of alien stage. death ( obviously 👩🏽‍🍳 ) not proofread
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes. wc. 1.1k this is based off of alien stage. i remember seeing a vid back in 2022 and i forgot about it. seems fate that it’s my new obsession currently. sorry if I get stuff wrong <3 might make a suguru version.. idk..
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The light is blinding you, you think, as you bring a hand to block its ray’s shining from the stage lights above. The platform you stand on is slowly raising and you can finally see your stage for the first time in what seem like a few hours.
You are not glad. Anxiety is a knot in your stomach that with the seconds passing by, only tightens further. You have done this before, you tell yourself. There is no reason to be afraid but the bead of sweat tricking down your forehead is testament to the lie.
The fear of death clouds over every round you play, every song you sing, and every person you were set to face against.
Last round, you faced against Suguru Geto. His black hair and mesmerising eyes had captivated the audience the moment you emerged on stage. But you’d been better. Your singing skills soon took the crowd by storm and it was only a matter of time before you won.
You were thankful. Or that was what you would’ve liked to say as you gazed at the dead body of your friend. His eyes ever still mesmerising but the light had long left them. Or maybe it’s always been like that, you just never noticed.
This time, you face against Satoru. Your white haired, blue eyed friend. He had always garnered the attention of his crowds. It was like fate for him to always win with his attractive looks. Nonetheless the fact that his skills were great.
He sounded angelically, his voice hitting high notes and dipping for lows in just the right places. It was as if he had trained his whole life for this.
Your platform finally stills as you stand on your floating platform. The microphone stand infront of you is white, as is the floor you stand on but your dress?
It is wine red and hooks to your figure, the eyeliner anointed on your face is also red and the lipstick too.
You look to your side as the sea of spectators lights up. Satoru stands, back pin straight, blue eyes dark and looking forward. You wish he would look at you.
He wears a suit of white and you are puzzled. Whys would they make you wear a red dress but not hsv w you match with your partner. You laugh at the thought. It wouldn’t matter since you’d be dead in a few minutes.
The music starts in the background and you open your mouth, lips quivering for the first time ever. Nothing comes out and it seems your throat has closed up from horror.
You can hear Satoru’s voice all around you and this time when you look at him, he is turned towards you, blue eyes glistening in the light and he is as beautiful as ever.
You remember when you first met him. You were both young when you attended anakt garden but you would always remember the defiant look on his face as you all stood in a row presenting your voices.
He had been stubborn then, but it soon slowly withered away like a rotting apple from the harsh slaps and beatings he would get for it.
You’d thought, even with the bruise on his cheek, that he looked as pretty as ever. And even more so now as you can see the light purple bruise on his cheek again.
He looks at you, lips moving to a beat you neither recognise nor care for. He is mouthing words you do not understand, a language you have forgotten and you only see him.
Your feet are moving before you know it and you are once again reminded of your first real talk. Satoru was laying on a bed of grass, the newest injury of his, on display on his cheek for all to see. Light drops of blood litter the top of his white shirt.
You think he looks cute pouting.
You take a seat next to him. Eyes trained on the blue sky that you all know is too fake to be real.
‘‘…you mess around too much, y’know?’’
Your hand is lightly grazing his swollen cheek. You watch as a blush seeps into his skin and runs towards the tips of his ears.
‘‘yeah, yeah I do…’’
He wouldn’t ever tell you that he does it to make himself look more better in your eyes. To gain your attention and approval. Shoko has already teased him enough about his crush.
You now stand infront of Satoru and time stills for a few moments. The light is making his face shine, the beads of sweat glisten as they run down the length of his gorgeous face.
You still haven’t sung and sorry claws at him. He doesn’t want you too die, he can’t live with you dead.
‘‘why aren’t you singing? Sing!’’
He pleads with you but you can practically feel the timer slowly coming to a close, the last few seconds ticking down.
‘‘…you know I won’t.’'
Of course you won’t. You swore it to him only a day or so ago and he’d begged you not to as you lay together. You trace shapes on the length of his bare chest, watching as it rises and falls.
You try to distract yourself on what you have just done but the repetitive twitch in your legs and the liquid you can feel running down your inner thigh is evidence enough of what you have just done.
Satoru kisses you again, this time slow and passionately and he lingers too long for the taste of his sadness and fear not to be tasted by you on his tongue.
‘‘…promise me you’ll sing.’’
You don’t reply, instead running your hand through the back of his hair, you bring his face once again closer to yours, bare chests touching. His hands are roaming everywhere, from the expanse of your thighs to sweeter and more intimate areas.
Satoru opens his eyes but the memory has ended too soon. The music has stopped and your feverish look, the pure bliss and love in your eyes is gone.
You stand for a few moments, swaying on your feet and he hears your final words fall off your red lips.
‘‘…you know I can’t promise you that…’’
You fall to the ground, red dress pooling around you like blood. A thin trail escapes your mouth and falls down your chin.
He looks down to his attire and now Satoru knows why they put him in a white suit instead of a red one. He sees the blood splattered from you on his blazer and he thinks he’s going to vomit.
But vomiting won’t bring you back and he watches as guards he didn’t know were there, come and drag you away. He watches the red, bloody trial you leave behind and he wishes he wore red.
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© VNUSOKI 24 do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work !
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risuola · 7 months
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Welcome, dear reader, in the depth of the dirtiest little fantasies. This masterlist consists of writings, that'll explore kinky topics with JJK men, some take place in jujutsu universe, some not.
Now, get comfy, turn off the lights and let us begin. We'll do it slowly, gradually diving deeper, and deeper…
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Starring: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Sukuna Ryomen, Kamo Choso, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji
Please read warnings to each piece.
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01 OCTOBER 2023
SAY MY NAME — starring: GOJO SATORU, who you matched with on the dating app
Internet is such a weird place. Never in your life you thought that you'd go to bed with a complete stranger that you met through the internet, but when you found yourself standing in front of the room in one of the most expensive hotels in Tokyo, you somehow thought now more about the man himself than the very obvious fact that you should not go but run home. But then he opened the door. — 7,8k words
cw: overstimulation, anonymous, one night stand
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06 OCTOBER 2023
DON'T HOLD BACK — starring: GETO SUGURU, who’s as sweet as he's mean to you
If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie. — 7,9k words
cw: size difference, spanking, hair pulling
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11 OCTOBER 2023
BREATHE THROUGH YOUR NOSE — starring: KAMO CHOSO, who’s your not-so-ordinary roommate
Blood is Choso’s thing, so it’s no surprise that he’s absolutely turned on when you show up in your shared room covered in it. Quickly, he abandoned watching tv and focused all of his attention on you. To help you, of course. — 2,4k words
cw: temperature play, breath play, choking, blood kink, body worship
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16 OCTOBER 2023
I LOVE THE WAY IT HURTS — starring: FUSHIGURO TOJI, who adores the way your long nails break through his skin
One thing you learned during your long-term affair with Toji is that he perceives pain as something arousing. The adrenaline rush of stinging sensation, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue – those things send signals straight to his cock. You, on the other hand, are more than happy to scratch his body red. — 2,5k words
cw: marking, scratching, biting, pussy eating, handjob, blood kink if you squint, bruises, brief aftercare
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21 OCTOBER 2023
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR — starring: SUKUNA RYOMEN, who leads a gang of curses
Ever heard of that saying to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Yeah, you took that one straight to your heart, and pussy, because sleeping – no, rough fucking with the most dangerous enemy you own became a second nature to you. You became Sukuna's toy, you knew he was playing with you, satisfied to fuck you brainless whenever he felt like it but thing is, he's also unable to say no to you, what pisses him off. But once, you show up at his doorstep all covered in blood and he cannot say no to helping you. — 6,2k words
cw: hate fucking, enemies to lovers, dub con, shower sex, praise
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26 OCTOBER 2023
OPEN YOUR MOUTH FOR ME — starring: NANAMI KENTO, who joined you for a simple mission during the Halloween night
You liked to joke that Nanami is always overdressed for the occasion. His suits were always crisp and perfectly tailored, showing the unmatched confidence with their color – light beige fabric in combination with dark blue button-up perfectly accentuated his mature features and blonde hair. Your work colleague knows how to dress to impress, and the grown-up apparition matched his character perfectly. Both were cold and calculated, so once, you decided to greet him in the hotel room a little underdressed. — 3,1k words
cw: lingerie + suit, blindfold, face fucking/deepthroating
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31 OCTOBER 2023
CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — starring: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything
It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly. — 6k words
cw: exes to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play & more
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