#gojo satoru fluff drabble

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony drabble 1. two truths & a lie

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ drabble summary. the power goes out at gojo's house due to a storm, and he comes up with a way to pass the time in the dark. (note: for new readers, this drabble is for my long fic gojo x reader series “in holy matriphony”!! you can find the masterlist here)

ᰔ genre/tags. a little fluffy, a little sad, and a lil revealing.

ᰔ chapter. drabble #1

ᰔ words. 2.6k

a/n. hi my ihm lovelies!! welcome to this silly little drabble i wrote, i tried to keep it under 1k words i swear lol but alas i yap. much love to the anon who suggested a prompt where the power goes out at gojo’s house, i did change the prompt a little bit but i loooove this premise!! it's one of my favesss. i could picture this drabble taking place sometime when reader n gojo are pretty early on into their fake marriage arrangement and are kind of getting situated w one another! perhaps before chapter 4 or something :) hope you enjoyy. these drabbles are just for the vibes btw

nav. masterlist :: playlist

“Oh for fucks sake, please don’t tell me I didn’t charge these things,” you hear Gojo say in the pitch black darkness, along with the sound of his palm smacking against the metal of his fancy LED flashlights that he was so excited to bring out in the moment of truth against the power outtage of the storm that was pitter-pattering just outside the windows.

You’ve got your arms crossed, a frown on your face but it doesn’t matter because he can’t see it anyways, and wait impatiently for him to provide some sort of lighting inside the living room that wasn’t the dim opal of the distant streetlights blurred by the rain.

“I’m so happy I’ve found out sooner rather than later that I should not choose you as my zombie apocalypse partner,” you comment just to bruise his ego.

“What zombie apocalypse?” he asks while he shakes his flashlights as if that would magically make them work, entirely distracted by the action to the point where he sounds like he genuinely believes there’s some zombie apocalypse he wasn’t made aware of.

You roll your eyes to display your annoyance. But again, doesn’t matter, since he’s not privy to it in the dark. 

There’s a bright flash of lightning, illuminating the house briefly, where you see a snapshot of Gojo standing in front of you in his long sleeve and plaid cotton pants, the image of a man who was just seconds away from getting some shuteye before he heard you scream from the bathroom because the lights went out while you were showering. And then there’s the growl of low thunder somewhere in the distance.

You’re shivering as your still-damp hair brushes against the nape of your neck. It had barely been a week since you formally started living with Gojo in this little fake marriage arrangement, and to say it was an adjustment of different personalities was an understatement. With a heavy sigh, you take a blind step forward towards what you believe is the direction of the kitchen.

“Let’s just grab some candles—”

Unfortunately for you, the hem of your floor-length gown gets caught on the corner of the loveseat, and you’re tripping over your own feet with a small gasp leaving your lips, bracing for the impact of the floor but you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist, keeping you from—…ah, it appears you were actually about to plop headfirst onto the glass of the coffee table.

“Oh shit—” Gojo huffs, and you feel the warmth of his chest against your back as he pulls you towards him to stabilize you, and the contact makes your breath hitch. 

“S-Satoru, let go of me,” you say, scrambling in his hold like an anxiously avoidant cat.

He lets go of you, and you stand up straight and turn to face him, at least you think you’re facing him, and say with genuine curiosity, “how did you know what my exact physical coordinates were so you could grab me before I split my skull open??”

There’s a second of a pause like he’s questioning his own reflexes too. “I don’t know…I just… knew?”

You blink at him wide-eyed, and then jump a little from the loud crack of thunder that rattles the windows.

With the minimal lighting provided by Gojo’s phone screen, a commodity you both seek to preserve because he’s on 2% and your phone has long since died since it was already only on 7% before you had even hopped in the shower, you both make it to the kitchen and Gojo fishes out some wick candles in the back of his cupboards, some really waxy bright pink ones that Juno apparently made in school and then gifted to him.

“Alright, here,” he says, handing you a lighted candle placed in a candle holder, and you carefully wrap your index finger around the handle. “And can you just stay still real quick for me?”

“Huh?” you blink at him.

He lifts his phone up and snaps a photo of you with flash, then looks down at the screen with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Sweet.” And then his smile drops. “Oh shit. Phone’s dead.”

“Satoru.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You did not just use up the battery of our last source of communication to the outside world just to take a picture.”

“But you just look so much like Ebeneezer Scrooge right now, it’s so uncanny—”

You gasp, glancing down at your attire, and then at the candle in your hand. “Give me that—” You grit through your teeth to try and grab his phone from him to delete the picture, even though you know you can’t, both because his phone’s dead but also he’s easily tall enough to hold it well out of your reach as you just hear him laugh to himself while you’re cursing out his whole ancestry in your head.

The night ticks on as you two light a few more candles to illuminate the downstairs area at least. The storm outside the windows only seems to pick up in severity, with whistling winds harassing the glass of the windows, along with the harsh downpour of rain that almost seems neverending.

“You know, we can cuddle if you’re scared,” Gojo teases as he brushes past you to grab another candle.

You roll your eyes at him, and this time he can see it. “I’m not scared of a stupid little storm, Sato—”

A loud boom of thunder reverberates before you can finish your sentence, rattling the windows and the walls, and you yelp as you jump in your skin.

You stiffly glance up at Gojo and see him with a quirked brow and a grin on his face, and you let out a puff of air in annoyance.

He walks towards you. “Just know that the offer always stands.” And then he’s shuffling his feet towards the coffee table in the living room. You watch him as he sits down criss-cross on the floor in front of it, setting down his lukewarm cup of coffee before he takes a sip from it and glances towards the window.

You sigh and make your way over there too, and sit down neatly across from him, smoothing over the fabric of your nightgown with an anxious feeling in your bones.

“So,” he says, his face warmly illuminated in shadows by the minimal candle light, “how should we pass the time?”

“I’d prefer any option that involves not having to talk to you.”

He places his palms on the floor and slides them behind him before leaning back onto them. “Charades then?”

“Oh my god, you really never get the hint, do you?”

“What hint?”

“I. Don’t. Like. You.”

“Oh come on. You don’t even know me.”

Your eyes blink wide at that. “What do you mean?”

“The reason you don’t like me is because you’ve never made an effort to get to know me, y/n.”

“I find it awfully pretentious of you to assume that I would like you just on the basis of getting ‘to know’ you better.”

He tilts his head at that. “Yeah? Isn’t that how things usually work? You know, you find out the person sitting across from you is also just as human as you are because you find out that their favorite color is mustard and that they broke a bone or two in middle school.”

“Please don’t tell me that your favorite color is mustard.”

“No, it’s green. But I did fracture my distal radius in the eight grade.” His brow furrows slightly, as if some thought passes his mind, and then he sits up straight. “I’ve got it, let’s play two truths and a lie.” He says it like he’s just discovered the solution to a problem that you didn’t even know existed.

“I haven’t played that since I was in high school.”

“Me neither," he says, “that’s what makes it fun. So much more material to cover now.”

Your lip tips upward in a small pout, and your shoulders sulk. You’re not really sure if you have that much material to cover. The past six or so years, you’ve just been spending taking care of your mom. You imagine for someone who lives a life as normal as Gojo’s, he must’ve spent the past six years collecting life experiences, or crossing things off of bucket lists. Stuff that makes for interesting conversation. You usually run a blank on stuff like that when anyone asks you, so what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?

“I’ll go first,” he offers, “alright.” He holds his thumb out of his fist, “I’ve never had braces,” he holds his index finger out, “never had a cavity,” he holds his middle finger out, “and my dentist got arrested for extortion a couple months ago.”

You blink at him. “…why are they all related to dentistry?”

“Huh?” He furrows his brow at you. “Aren’t they supposed to have a theme or something?”

“Whaaaatt?? That’s how you played growing up?”

“Yeah.”

Your interest is piqued, and you lean forward. “That’s interesting.” 

You squint your eyes at him. His teeth are too perfect to have not had braces…but also, no cavities? With the amount of sugar he eats? Bullshit…somehow his dentist getting arrested was the least surprising thing.

“I’m gonna say,” you start, “that you’ve had braces.”

He shakes his head. “Vandalism. He got arrested for vandalism.”

“No cavities?! How?!”

He shrugs. “I dunno. Just never had one.”

You sigh, and perch your elbow on the table before dropping your chin onto your palm as you look at him. 

“Alright, your turn,” he says, grabbing the handle of his coffee mug to take a sip, throughout which he doesn’t break eye contact with you.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth briefly. “Um. I’ve…never been skydiving. Keanu Reeves follows me on Twitter. And…” You think to yourself. “I’ve thought about murdering you many times.”

He pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I’m gonna hope it’s that last one.”

“I would never experience another sad emotion in my life if Keanu Reeves actually followed me on anything, so.”

“You’ve thought about murdering me?? y/n.” He deadpans your name, as if to scold.

You shrug. “You annoy me sometimes.”

“Have I always annoyed you?”

“It’s your turn, Satoru.”

He frowns, and lets out a deep exhale as he scratches the back of his neck as if he’s struggling to let the topic go, but then he sighs. “Uh.” His voice sounds deeper with a bit more of a drag. “I, uh, I once owned a pet tarantula…I’ve never gotten a speeding ticket, and…I’ve never broken a bone.”

“It’s that last one.”

“Yeah. Damn, pretty good.”

“Satoru, you literally just told me you broke your distal radius in eighth grade.”

“Did I? Oh.”

You narrow your gaze at him, and study his distant expression. He seems awfully distracted, ever since you confessed that you find him pretty annoying. And there’s a part of you that feels a little bad about it.

“Okay, my turn,” you say, and you breathe in deep, “I…was voted prom queen twice in high school. I once won a county-wide speed-reading contest. And—” You lick your lips briefly. “And you haven’t always annoyed me.”

“Okay. This time, I really hope it’s not that last one.”

You nod, a small smile on your face. “It wasn’t county-wide. It was state-wide.”

He grins, leaning forward. “That’s really cool.”

You toss your hair over your shoulder. “What can I say. One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish never stood a chance.”

He’s looking at you intently now, whereas you would’ve otherwise expected some sort of laugh from him at your faux cockiness, instead he just looks like he’s deep in thought once again. And then he’s leaning back into a neutral spine, that tongue poking to the inside of his cheek again boyishly. Cute, you think to yourself. You both were grown adults, but it felt like you were at a high school camping retreat and managed to sneak away some alone time with that boy in your grade that teases you at the top of every homeroom who you swear you despise but secretly giggle about when you’re scribbling in your diary during lunch period.

“Your turn,” you say, somewhat impatiently, because you find yourself wanting to know more. 

“Okay,” he says, “my favorite color’s mustard, I’ve got blue eyes, and you remember around the time we first met and I asked you if you wanted to come with me to that wine tasting event my brokerage firm was hosting?”

You blink at him, and slowly nod.

“Well, that was supposed to be a date,” he says, “I was asking you out.”

Your eyes grow wide, mouth slightly agape as you stare at him. 

“But, uh, I guess I should’ve been more direct, considering you brought three of our other neighbors with you.” He leans backwards onto his palms again. “I mean, of course, it was also before I knew you had a boyfriend.” He swipes the back of his hand underneath his chin. “And before I realized I probably shouldn’t be asking my neighbor out on a date in my first week of moving to a completely different state.” His shoulders drop slightly, and the flicker of the flame in between the two of you reflects off of his eyes. “But, I don’t know. I just remember thinking how interesting you were. And fun to talk to. I couldn’t help myself.” 

You feel your cheeks warm, and your heart is beating fast. So fast. Not attributed to the rain or the storm, but to the confession. And perhaps some of it was melancholy, this odd feeling that wafts through you, that wonders, how different would things be if you weren’t still with Choso when Gojo moved in next door. Or how different things would be if you were a little better at reading social cues, or not abusing the rules of a plus one to a social event. Or how different things would be if you were the happier version of yourself, a version that went extinct exactly five years ago when a small mass was found in your mother’s lungs.

You swallow hard. “You’re right,” you say, “you should’ve been more direct.” 

“You were seeing someone, y/n.” It was sound reasoning, sure. The fact that even if he had been more direct, it wouldn’t change the fact that you would’ve had to politely decline.

But your gaze shifts down towards the surface of the coffee table, to the melting candle of hot pink wax, and you repeat yourself—

“You should’ve been more direct.”

The whirring of the fridge comes to life first, then the beep of the microwave, before the entire house illuminates with light so suddenly it almost makes you jump from the shift in ambience. You look at a now fully-lit Gojo, who’s staring at you with questioning eyes, like he’s still left in the trance of the darkness from a few moments ago rather than accepting the fact that there is now light. And you clear your throat as you stand up onto your feet.

“Lovely.” You clap your hands together. “I can go back to…whatever the hell I was doing before the power went out,” you say. And whatever person you were before the power went out, too.

You shuffle your feet towards the stairs, but then Gojo says, “wait.”

“Hm?”

“So…just for my peace of mind…you don’t still think about murdering me, right?” he says.

You blink at him. “Mm. We’re done playing here, Satoru. We’ll have to save it for the next time the power goes out.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of drabble 1. ‘two truths & a lie’]

a/n. tysm for reading! and once again ty to the anon who suggested this prompt!! :'') and tysm to everyone who sent drabble prompts in they're so cute and i can't wait to write them!! i did mention this briefly but i will save some of them for later when ihm couple are officially together since i think the prompts will be super cuuuter that way lol i feel like i'm writing w my hands tied behind my back for drabbles because ihm couple aren't officially together yettt 🤣..... and i have no one to blame for that except myself 😞😞 anywho, i plan to release some more drabbles this week for ihm. i know i said i'd take a break from writing but i was just itching to write something, but i also didn't want to dive into s2 for ihm just yet because i def need a lil break from the main storyline, so i thought i'd do some drabbles. these are pretty low stakes n easy to write n i have a lot of fun w them. i remember i enjoyed writing the kickoff drabbles so i wanted to write some for ihm now that s1 is over :) i wasn't sure if my main ihm taglist wanted to be tagged in drabbles too but if you'd like to be tagged in drabbles as well feel free to comment under this post :') i'll tag you for the next ones! sm lovee <3

☾·̩͙꙳ masterlist :: playlist :: ao3 link

[zenmiren]

all the other women in your gardening club were so incredibly jealous of you.

it had started off when you were showing them a photo of some fresh strawberries that you grew. the photo was of around 16 perfect looking, freshly washed strawberries placed on top of a cloth inside a basket... and the basket was being held by your husband, satoru.

it was a simple photo, satoru had a cute face, not looking at the camera but instead, was looking down at the fresh fruit, impatiently waiting to eat them.

your fellow club members gawked and smiled widely at your photo.

"wowh! what a beauty!"

"how perfect!"

you smiled in pride as your club members complimented the photo of your stawberries, unaware that they were staring only at satoru and his annoyingly handsome face.

the next instance was when you had shown them photos of your perfect, weedless garden.

"wowh! what weed killer do you use?" one of the older women exclaimed in shock.

"ohh ahah!" you smiled "i don't use any weed killers, we have a dog in the house and i'm afraid he might sniff the toxins, so i pick out the small ones by myself, and i ask my husband to get the bigger ones for me"

"ah... you're so lucky, [name].. my husband is far too lazy to pick out the large weeds when i ask..."

"your husband listens to you, just like that? i wish my husband would do that.. if i ever asked, he'd complain and whine like a baby"

the last was when your car broke down and had to stay in maintenance for a few days. satoru dropped you off to your gardening club that saturday.

when you walked in, all the ladies' heads snapped over to see satoru.

".. he's even more handsome in person.."

"he's sooo dreamy.."

"look at his biceps..."

you turned around, going on your tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. satoru placed his hand on your waist, leaning in to pull you into his hungry mouth. you pulled away, much to his dismay, satoru tried to pepper more kisses on your face, but you quietly told him to stop, causing him to pout.

"... and he's so inlove with her too..."

"what a loving man.."

"... i hope [name] knows how lucky she is."

those other ladies whispered among themselves before you gave satoru another kiss farewell before turning around and greeting your club members. satoru lingered around the doorway for another minute, watching you with a gentle smile before forcing himself to turn around and leave.

that alone made the ladies expel any thoughts of seducing him to cheat on you... it was too late. He was too deeply in love, and much to their dismay, they understood clearly why he was so obsessed with you.

— likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

[reissancesstuff]

“WHO are you?”

sypnosis: you're too drunk to recognize your boyfriend.

warnings: alcohol (reader is drunk), swearing.

featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, sukuna ryomen.

Gojo

You are absolutely, unapologetically, undeniably wasted.

You don’t even remember how many drinks you’ve had. All you know is that the room is spinning, your heels are in your hand, and you’re sitting outside the club on the curb with a pout that could kill a man.

“Satoru,” you mumble, squinting at your phone. “Why hasn’t he called me back? That bastard.”

You’re just about to text him for the eighth time (your phone is upside down, for the record) when a familiar voice cuts through the haze.

“There you are,” the voice says, amused. “You’re lucky I’m sexy and patient.”

You blink up, shielding your eyes from the moonlight—or maybe it’s the streetlight, or maybe it's the glowing aura of the man standing in front of you.

He’s tall. White-haired. Wearing a black coat and sunglasses, at night, like a menace.

You frown.

“Who,” you say seriously, “the fuck are you?”

He freezes.

You narrow your eyes further, wobbling to your feet and poking his chest.

“Back off, handsome stranger,” you declare. “I already have a boyfriend.”

He sputters. “Handsome? Wait—”

“He’s the love of my life,” you say proudly. “Six feet of nonsense. White hair. Smug face. He’s so annoying. But like, in a hot way.”

“…That’s literally just me,” he deadpans.

“Nooo,” you slur. “Satoru’s prettier.”

His jaw drops. “Excuse me?! I AM SATORU!”

You gasp. Loudly.

“Oh my god. You’re one of those crazy fans.”

“What???”

You stumble back, dramatically offended. “You wanna be him, don’t you? Is that why you dyed your hair? Is this cosplay?!”

Gojo stares at you, dumbfounded.

You wave your heel in the air like a sword. “Back off! I’m loyal!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “Sweetheart—”

You cut him off, whispering, “Don’t call me that. Only Satoru calls me sweetheart.”

“…I am Satoru!”

A pause. Then, suddenly, you gasp again—like your brain has rebooted.

“Wait… You sound like him,” you say slowly, brows furrowing. “Say something only Satoru would say.”

He leans in, lips grazing your ear.

“I know how you like it when I kiss that one spot on your thigh.”

You shriek, smacking his chest. “Okay you’re him!!”

He laughs—loud, stupid, proud.

“I hate you,” you mumble into his coat as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing.

“You said I was hot,” he hums smugly. “I’m never letting that go.”

���You’re annoying,” you grumble, snuggling into him anyway. “Still prettier in my head.”

He kisses your forehead. “Good thing I’m also prettier in real life.”

---

By the time he gets you home, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

You wake up the next morning with a hangover, a glass of water on your nightstand, and a sticky note on your forehead.

"Handsome Stranger says hi. —Your boyfriend 💙"

You groan, burying your face in the pillow.

God, he’s never gonna let this go.

But honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Geto

You’re drunk.

Like, embarrassingly drunk.

Like, sitting outside the izakaya barefoot with your shoes in your lap and a half-eaten skewer in your hand, slurring into your phone like it’s your long-lost best friend.

“Where the hell is Suguru?” you mumble. “I’m cold. And also beautiful. I deserve a ride.”

A shadow falls over you.

You look up—slowly, dramatically—and see a tall, broad figure standing above you, dark hair in a low bun, wearing all black like he’s auditioning to be a villain in a slow-burn romance anime.

“Get up,” he says. Calm. Deep. Familiar.

You squint. “Oh my god.”

He raises a brow. “Yes?”

“You’re hot,” you whisper.

He sighs. “Baby, it’s me.”

“No,” you say, pointing a threatening skewer at him. “My boyfriend is nicer. He’s sweet. And warm. And smells like sandalwood and chaos. You look like a mafia boss. You probably steal hearts and credit cards.”

Suguru stares at you like he’s questioning all his life choices.

You stand up—well, try to—and nearly fall into him. His arms catch you effortlessly, like it’s muscle memory.

You shove a finger in his chest. “I’m taken. My boyfriend will kill you.”

“Will he?” he asks, humoring you. “Violent type?”

“The worst,” you say proudly. “He once glared at a guy so hard his hairline receded.”

“Sounds terrifying.”

“He is,” you nod seriously. “And he calls me ‘sweetheart’ when he wants something.”

Suguru exhales a laugh, something low and fond. “Okay. What if I prove I’m him?”

You blink at him, considering. “…Fine. Do it.”

He steps close, close enough that his chest brushes yours.

“Two weeks ago, you said if I didn’t let you adopt a cat, you’d put glitter in my shampoo.”

Your jaw drops. “How did you—?!”

“Three days ago, you cried because a dog in a TikTok wore boots.”

“And last night,” he leans in, brushing his lips by your ear, “you told me I’m your favorite ‘tall dark and dangerous’ man, but you’d leave me instantly for Keanu Reeves.”

You gasp. “Suguru?!”

“Yes.”

“OH MY GOD.” You slap his arm. “Why didn’t you say so earlier!?”

“I did.”

You cling to him, dramatic as ever. “I missed you. You smell good. Don’t ever leave me again.”

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you bridal style toward the car, shaking his head with the softest smile.

“You’re gonna regret all of this in the morning,” he murmurs, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I regret nothing,” you slur. Then squint up at him. “Wait. Did you really glare a guy’s hairline off?”

“…That one might’ve been a little exaggerated.”

“Still hot.”

---

The next morning, you wake up in Suguru’s hoodie, with water, painkillers, and a sticky note on your phone:

“Mafia Boss says thank you for your compliments. You’re under permanent protection now. —Your real boyfriend 💌”

You bury your face in the pillow.

He’s never letting this go.

And honestly? You’re kind of glad.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Nanami

You’re sitting on a curb, absolutely wasted.

There’s glitter on your eyelids, chicken nuggets in your purse, and a girl from the bar sobbing beside you because her ex posted a gym selfie.

You offer her a nugget.

“You deserve better,” you tell her. “You’re gorgeous. Your eyebrows are, like, symmetrical. I’d marry you.”

She sniffles, then stares behind you. “Uhh… is that your boyfriend?”

You turn.

And see a tall, broad man walking up, sleeves rolled, tie loose, face unreadable—like God sent a male model from a finance firm to collect wayward souls off the street.

You frown.

“You look expensive,” you say slowly. “Are you one of those… high-end butlers?”

He stops in front of you. “You’re drunk.”

You blink. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m your boyfriend.”

Your jaw drops. “No you’re not. My boyfriend is… emotionally repressed. Wears beige. Has a sexy office job and a judgmental stare.”

Nanami sighs. “That’s me.”

You squint suspiciously. “Okay, if you’re really my boyfriend… what’s my weirdest habit?”

He looks down at you, voice flat. “You talk to plants. You name them. One is called Baby Groot. You cried when he lost a leaf.”

Your lips part. “Only he would know that…”

You wobble to your feet and nearly fall, catching yourself on his very firm chest. You clutch his shirt.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “You are my sexy office man.”

“Let’s go home,” he mutters, guiding you gently toward his car.

You dig your heels into the ground. “Wait! Waitwaitwait—don’t kidnap me! I have a boyfriend!”

“You just admitted I am your boyfriend.”

“…Oh. Right.” You giggle. “Lucky me.”

He helps you into the passenger seat like you’re fragile cargo. Once seated, you stare at him as he buckles you in.

“You’re so handsome,” you murmur.

“I know.”

“And patient.”

“I have no choice.”

“You’re gonna marry me one day.”

His hands still for half a second.

Then: “I already plan to.”

You pass out smiling.

---

The next morning, you wake up in bed, dressed in your comfiest pajamas, with a glass of water, aspirin, and a note:

"In case you forget: yes, I am your boyfriend. No, I am not a butler. Please hydrate. —Kento"

You giggle into the pillow.

You’re definitely going to marry that man.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Toji

You are sitting on a barstool, double fisting two very illegally strong cocktails, laughing at absolutely nothing.

You're also very certain that a hot man is trying to kidnap you.

“Ma’am,” the man says, standing in front of you like an irritated wall of muscle. “It’s me.”

You look him up and down.

Black hair. Green eyes. Tall. Scary aura. Tight shirt. Very very hot.

But no. You're loyal.

You squint. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

The man pinches the bridge of his nose. “I picked you up from karaoke an hour ago.”

“Impossible,” you say dramatically. “My boyfriend would never show up to karaoke. He thinks fun is ‘a scam made by broke people.’”

“That’s exactly what I said,” he grunts.

You gasp. “You are hot though. Like, really hot. But listen—my boyfriend? He’s kinda mean, super strong, and terrifying. He could totally kill you.”

He stares.

You continue: “He’s also soooo good in bed. Real monster. Demon behavior. But he’s mine, so—”

Toji grabs your wrist. “Get your ass up.”

You gasp again. “You’re aggressive. Just like him. But he’d never touch me like that in public unless I pissed him off.”

“Oh?” he says, voice flat. “You mean like getting blackout drunk, threatening the DJ, and petting strangers' dogs without asking?”

You tilt your head. “So you do know me...”

“I live with you.”

You lean forward, squinting hard, then grab his face between your hands. “Say something only my boyfriend would say.”

He deadpans, “If you puke in my car again, I’m charging you five grand.”

Your mouth drops open. “Toji?!”

“Finally.”

You throw your arms around his neck. “Where have you been all night?!”

“Chasing your drunk ass down. Again.”

He tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and starts walking to his car.

“Wait,” you slur. “You’re not gonna murder me, right?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“But I’m your babygirl…”

He opens the car door. “You’re my goddamn headache.”

“Love you too!”

---

The next morning, you wake up with a hangover and a bruise on your hip that looks suspiciously like the edge of Toji’s shoulder.

You check your phone.

1 New Message from Toji

📸 [photo of you passed out face-first in his passenger seat, drooling]

Toji: Don’t drink again unless I’m there. Dumbass.

You smile.

Your murderous, scary, mean boyfriend is the best.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Sukuna

You’re absolutely, irreparably hammered.

How do you know?

Because there is a gorgeous man standing in front of you with piercings, tattoos, and arms you’d like to sit on — and instead of flirting with him, you’re loudly sobbing to your friend.

“He’s gonna kill him. He’s gonna kill the hot guy,” you sniff.

“Who?”

“That guy,” you point at the very man you’re talking about. “He’s hot but he’s not my boyfriend. But he’s gonna die. My boyfriend is crazy.”

The man in question — the hot one — drags a hand down his face. “You’re drunk off your ass.”

You nod solemnly. “Yes. And you should leave before he finds you.”

“I am your boyfriend.”

You blink. “Noooo, my boyfriend has tattoos—”

He lifts his shirt.

“—oh my god you have tattoos,” you whisper.

“And piercings.”

You stare at the twin bars through his eyebrow and the silver glint on his tongue as he smirks.

“My boyfriend has those too!” you giggle. “But also, he’s terrifying. He’d murder you in an alley for touching me.”

He steps closer. “You mean like this?”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you flush against him.

You freeze. “Bold of you, hot stranger.”

He leans in, voice low and dark in your ear. “You bit me last time I tried to wake you up from a drunk nap.”

You gasp. “Sukuna?!”

“Yeah, baby. It’s me.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, sharp canines grazing your skin. “Now let’s get you in the damn car before I dump you in a gutter.”

You wrap your arms around him, eyes wide. “You’re so mean. I love you.”

“I know you do, dumbass.”

---

The next morning, you wake up to an ice pack on your head and a water bottle on your nightstand. Sukuna is sitting at the edge of the bed, scrolling his phone.

“…Did I threaten you again last night?” you mumble.

“You told me you’d report me to the FBI if I didn’t prove I was your boyfriend.”

“Oh god.”

“You also called me ‘Mr. Jail Tattoos’ and asked if I knew I was hot.”

“I hate myself.”

He glances at you with that lazy smirk. “You said, and I quote, ‘I wanna kiss you but my boyfriend’s gonna beat your ass.’”

You pull a pillow over your face. “Did you beat your own ass?”

“Nah.” He shrugs. “But I did let you tackle me onto the bed. You drooled on my neck.”

“…Love you?”

He flicks your forehead. “Be less dumb next time.”

You grin. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Jail Tattoos.”

And he does, in fact, tackle you right back.

[kentorus]

satoru gojo who broke up with you first, apparently because "he had too much on his mind" and couldn't handle a relationship at the moment.

satoru gojo who regretted it the very next day, waking up alone in bed instead of finding you beside him.

satoru gojo who tried to thug it out, telling himself he wasn't the type to care. he was a womanizer, he just messed around. so why did he find himself thinking about you so often?

satoru gojo who texted you while drunk one week after he broke up with you, saying "i miss u."

satoru gojo who found himself going absolutely crazy with anguish when you didn't reply for the next three days.

satoru gojo who showed up at your door at 3 am on a tuesday, begging you to take him back. saying he promised he'd never hurt you again, that your absence was killing him. that he missed your smell, playing with your hair, hugging you from behind while you made breakfast for him.

satoru gojo who thanked the gods when you finally took him back after three weeks of trying to convince you.

satoru gojo who found himself unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. buying you flowers randomly, trying his best to get out of work earlier just to spend more time with you, making dinner so you could rest, even making little diy gifts because he knew how much you loved them

satoru gojo who kept his promise and made you the happiest girl ever

written by @kentorus do not plagiarize.

[gojosluut]

Turning around on your other side facing Satoru, you poke his muscular back with your index finger. Making his back arch a bit, as he turns his head around to look at you with a confused sleepy face.

“what was that for?” he rasps, sleep still lacing in his voice.

“can you lay on top of me..? like on my back..?” you whisper, your eyes peering up at his tired blue ones.

“…”

“…”

“…you want me to do what?” he asks sitting up more to get a better look at you. His face now outright confused.

“..I want you to lay on top of me!! like crush me with your body!” You whine, your hand now laced around his muscular bicep, gently shaking him from side to side.

Satoru sighs a small smirk on his lips. “fine, fine.. lay down on your stomach.” He says softly. You smile up at him before flipping onto your stomach, your face going into your soft pillow. laying in a pencil like position.

He turns over more lifting the covers up as he goes to his knees, before laying ontop of you. Laying his entire weight on your back, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

You sigh softly with content, feeling his entire weight on you. Turning your face slightly to the side having a lazily smile on your lips. “mm now i’m comfortable..” you mumble sleepily, all Satoru can do is chuckle lightly into the crook of your neck.

“why am I crushing you again?” He murmurs into your soft skin.

“becauseeee you’re like my personal heating pad for my period cramps,” you mumble out. As your eyes droop shut. Satoru sighs smiling, shaking his head lightly.

“weirdo..” he mumbles before drifting off back to sleep. with his body quite literally covering yours completely, your period cramps dissolving as his warmth and the pressure of his body soothing the pain entirely.

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ ��₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

[nanamisgirly]

you're bit too possessive toward your nerdྀི

the moment you spot them through the glass wall of the library study room, something primal inside you snaps.

your nerd. your sweet, tall, stuttering nerd.

and some other girl leaning all over him. all giggles and twirls of her stupid hair, looking up at him like he hung the stars. you can practically see the way her fingers brush “innocently” against his forearm. and gojo—this sweet, beautiful idiot gojo. he's just smiling, shyly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, completely, utterly oblivious of the advances the girl is making.

you see red. not the cute, flirty kind of jealous. no. 

you see murder.

by the time you stomp into the study room, he lights up the second he sees you—like a golden retriever seeing its favorite person. “babyy!” he blurts, half-standing so fast he nearly knocks over the chair. his knees bang the table. his pen scatter. he's flushed pink already, hands fidgeting with the hem of his stupid neat sweater, beaming at you like you're the sun itself.

meanwhile, the girl beside him falters, confused as hell when you swoop in, grab a fistful of his collar and yank him down into a messy kiss—a possessive and mean one, kissing him like you're marking him, like you're making a fucking declaration.

gojo gasps against your mouth, stunned, but immediately melts, tilting his head to give you more. he kisses back with desperate little noises, afraid if he doesn't, you'll change your mind and leave. when you pull back, he's breathless, blinking at you all dazed and drunk, glasses slipping halway down his nose. “i missed you…” he whispers.

you don't answer him, to focusing on the other girl. staring straight at her awkward form peeking up her books, face pale. you tilt your head and smile—sharp, unfriendly, a predator showing teeth. she scurries away without a word.

gojo blinks between you and the empty chair, confusion pinching his brows. “she…left? we didn't end the explanations—”

you grab his jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips squish pouty. “you,” you hiss, leaning so close your breath fans his pink ears, “are so fucking stupid, satoru.” his wide, panicked eyes blink down at you. “i-i am?” he stutters, looking on the verge of tears just because you're mad at him. “i-i didn't even—i mean…i was j-just doing the private lesson…i-i told you about it!” he babbles, desperate. not understanding a thing.

you shake his head a little by the jaw, making his glasses slip down worse. “yeah, yeah. i agreed on a private lesson." you snarl, voice dripping poison-sweet. "not private fucking sex.” you yank his wrist, dragging him out of the little study room, ignoring the curious heads turning to you. 

satoru stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet—over himself just to keep up. “y-you're mad,” he whines, almost breathless, cheeks burning red. “w-what did i…i didn't—”

his voice gets smaller when you spin around, shoving him back hard against the nearest wall. his back thuds against the cold surface, and he freezes up, chest heaving. “you really don't get it, huh?” 

that dumb, pretty face of his—lips pink from your previous kiss and from him nervously chewing them, his glasses crooked, his hair all messed up—god, you could eat him alive. “you let that clingy bitch touch you like that?” you spit. “smile at her like that? let her giggle and bat her lashes like you didn't already have someone who should be the only thing you look at??”

satoru is practically vibrating in place, like a kicked puppy. his Adam's apple bobs hard when he swallows. “i-i didn't notice!” he chokes out. “i swear, angel, i didn't! i-i didn't even l-look at her. .” your nails scrape up his chest through his hoodie, making him whimper. “you're mine, aren't you, 'toru?” he nods so fast you think he might give himself whiplash. “y-yes!! yours! of c-course, only yours!”

your hand snakes lower, palming the half-chub tenting his sweats. poor thing :( so quick to get hard just from yelling at him. “you're lucky you're cute,” you snap, but your heart is hammering at how real the panic was in his voice. 

you squeeze him through the fabric. his hips jolt into your hand with a pathetic little gasp. you watch his pretty white lashes flutter, poor boy was genuinely confused why you're so pissed—poor sweet nerd who only ever wanted you :((

you click your tongue. “my pretty nerd,” you mock sweetly, squeezing his cock harder through his pants, making his knees buckle. “getting hard just ‘cause i’m scolding you? bet you'd cum just from me slapping your face.” 

“i-i could! i would, i-if that's what y-you—ah!—want,” his mouth works uselessly searching for words, his brain short-circuiting because your hand's still lazily stroking him through his sweats. you lean up, biting his jaw hard enough to make him whines. 

"you’re gonna make it up to me," you murmur against his skin, voice syrupy sweet. "gonna let me use you however I want. gonna be a good boy for me, huh, satoru?" he was towering over you but he was so, so submissive.

he nods so fast again his glasses damn near fall off. "a-anything," he breathes. "please. please let me—lemme be good—i'll be so good, promise!"

[cumironi]

ARE YOU A GOOD GIRL? jjk men.

feat. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, shiu, higuruma

sum. d!ck inside, gasp and moan filling the room. your boyfriend pays you a visit and one praise they have you cum just in a second, and what do they do? oh, i’m gonna ruin you with that’ they said.

warning. non-sorcerer! jjk men, established 23 you & 31 them, praise kink, petname(s), name-calling(s), overstimulated, dirty talk,

GOJO SATORU

your dorm room was dim, just the amber glow of your bedside lamp flickering against the walls and casting shadows that danced with the rhythm of your bodies. his shirt was tossed somewhere by your desk chair, your panties slung haphazardly over your open textbook—because of course gojo had bent you over your desk first, saying something like “might as well break in your study spot properly, baby.”

but now you were on the bed, flat on your back, his silver hair a messy halo as he hovered over you, hips grinding into yours at a slow, relentless pace. skin hot and sticky, your legs trembling around his waist, your breath coming out in ragged little gasps.

“look at you,” he rasped, sweat dripping down his temple as he dragged his cock out to the tip, just to slam it back in. “fuck, baby—you’re taking me so good.”

your nails clawed at his back. “s-satoru—!”

he groaned at the way your voice cracked, the way you clenched down on him so tight the second he said something nice. “mm? what was that? you like that? like being told how good you are for me?”

your walls fluttered around him. violently.

his eyes widened.

“oh my god,” he said, stilling completely inside you. “no fuckin’ way.”

you were already whining, shifting your hips to chase friction, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, staring at you like he just struck gold.

“you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he whispered, breathless. “you’re gonna cum just from that.”

your face was burning. “shut up—”

but he didn’t. of course he didn’t. this was gojo.

“ohhh, no no, now i have to test it,” he grinned, the corner of his mouth twitching with mischief. “you like being praised, baby? does it make that pretty pussy all messy?”

you whimpered as his free hand slid down, thumb circling your clit in slow, teasing strokes.

“you’re doing so good for me. such a good girl—letting me fuck you like this, letting me ruin that smart little college brain. i know you’ve been working hard all week, haven’t you?”

your hips bucked hard.

“ah—there it is,” he laughed, almost mean. “my filthy little overachiever. studying all day just to get ruined by my cock at night.”

his strokes picked up. so did his words.

“so proud of you, baby. so proud of this body—these thighs, this tight little cunt that’s soaking for me. you’re just perfect. my perfect, obedient, desperate girl—”

your orgasm hit like a truck.

you cried out, back arching violently, legs locked around him as your whole body seized beneath him. your walls clamped around his cock so hard it knocked the air out of him, and for once, satoru gojo was left speechless.

“f-fuck—holy shit—”

he collapsed on top of you, still twitching inside, and laughed breathlessly against your neck. “you just came from that,” he murmured, grinning like he just won the lottery. “from me telling you how good you are.”

you were still trembling.

“i’m never shutting the fuck up again,” he whispered, kissing your jaw. “you’re so screwed, baby.”

and he meant that in every way possible.

GETO SUGURU

it was late—past midnight kind of late—and you’d just finished a soul-sucking group project that left you drained, grumpy, and snapping at anyone who looked at you sideways. which is why, when suguru showed up unannounced, you didn’t even question it. you just fell into his chest with a soft sigh, letting him carry you to the bed like he always did when you were too tired to move.

he kissed you like he missed you. slow and deep, tongue gliding past your lips like he had nowhere else to be. you didn’t even realize when he’d slipped your shirt off, or how your panties were already pushed to the side, or how the heat of his cock was nudging at your folds, thick and pulsing.

“tell me to stop,” he murmured against your lips.

you didn’t.

so he sank in slow, the stretch burning just right, your thighs wrapped tight around his waist, your fingers knotted in the strands of his hair still tied back lazily. he hissed through his teeth as he bottomed out.

“fuck, baby—you’re always so tight for me,” he groaned, his pace steady and firm, hips slapping into yours with a controlled rhythm. “even after all this time.”

you bit your lip, already feeling your body light up like a fuse had been lit in your spine. but you didn’t say anything. not yet.

he noticed it right away—how you squeezed around him the moment his voice dropped, all deep and sweet.

his brows lifted, that soft, wicked smile tugging at his lips.

“wait,” he said, rocking into you deeper. “you like that?”

you tried to look away.

“no, no—don’t hide,” he chuckled, catching your jaw and turning your face back to his. “you’re telling me you get off on a little praise?”

you shook your head. a clear lie.

“liar,” he murmured, leaning down to whisper against your lips. “you’re such a good girl for me. always so wet. always so eager to be filled up.”

you gasped—your body jolted—and your cunt squeezed around him so tight it dragged a curse from his throat.

“oh my god,” he laughed, unhinged now. “you’re fucking serious.”

he started fucking into you harder, deeper. his hand slid down your body, resting on your stomach, pressing there so he could feel how deep he was.

“i’m gonna ruin you with this,” he said, gaze dark with something close to awe. “just words, baby? just a few sweet nothings and you’re this close to cumming? fuck—look at you.”

you couldn’t hold back the noises anymore. every time he praised you—every filthy compliment, every soft ‘good girl’—your moans got louder, your legs shook harder, and your nails dug into his arms like you were holding on for dear life.

“such a perfect little thing,” he whispered, face buried in your neck. “taking me so well. doing so good, baby. you’re so beautiful like this—messy, fucked out, desperate.”

your body locked up.

he felt it, smirked, and gripped your hips tighter. “that’s it. cum for me. show me how much you love hearing how proud i am of you.”

and with a shattered whimper, you came. violently. full-body trembling, eyes rolling, breath stuttering as you soaked his cock.

he groaned into your mouth, slowing down just enough to ride you through it, kissing your lips softly like he hadn’t just broken you in half with his voice.

“mmm, my girl’s got the cutest kink,” he murmured, brushing your hair out of your face as you struggled to catch your breath. “you just gave me a fuckin’ god complex.”

you blinked up at him, dazed.

he grinned, leaned down, and whispered, “don’t worry. i’m gonna make you cum every single time i call you my good girl.”

and the worst part? you knew he would.

NANAMI KENTO

you didn’t expect him to show up at your dorm this late. he rarely came over without warning—he was punctual, predictable, always so polite about it. but tonight, something in his voice over the phone had made your stomach twist with anticipation. his “i’m coming over” had been low, firm, and left no room for argument.

so now you were here. back pressed against your desk, your shirt halfway open, your skirt bunched up around your waist, and nanami on his knees in front of you like a man starved. his tie was off, sleeves rolled up, glasses long forgotten on your nightstand, and you were struggling to breathe through the way his tongue moved over you—slow, devastating, focused.

“you’ve had a long week,” he murmured between licks, his voice thick with restraint. “thought i’d help you relax.”

your legs were already shaking, and you barely managed to stutter his name before he stood, towering over you, fingers ghosting over your trembling thighs. you could see it in his face—the slight pink in his cheeks, the tension in his jaw—that he was holding back.

and when he slid inside you?

oh god.

the stretch was perfect, deep, almost too much. you moaned openly, arms wrapping around his neck, eyes fluttering as he started thrusting into you slow and controlled, like he wanted to memorize the way your body reacted to each push.

and then—you clenched around him. tight.

the second he muttered, “you’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

he paused, eyes flicking up to your face. “...was that because of what i said?”

your mouth parted. you hesitated.

he stared for a beat, and then—something in him changed.

“interesting,” he breathed, voice suddenly darker. “so that’s what gets you dripping like this.”

he pulled out halfway, slammed back in, hard enough to knock a choked moan out of you.

“you want to be praised, is that it?” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along your jaw as he fucked you into the desk. “want me to tell you what a good girl you are?”

you whimpered.

he caught your face in his hand, made you look him in the eye. “you’re such a good girl for me. letting me have you like this. always so polite, so obedient—until i get you alone.”

you broke. you fucking broke.

your body went stiff, orgasm ripping through you before you could even warn him, clenching and throbbing so tight around his cock that his next groan sounded almost pained.

“fuck,” he muttered, hips stuttering. “you just came.”

you hid your face in his neck.

he didn’t stop.

he fucked you through it, whispering into your skin, “you did so well, darling. came so beautifully for me. i didn’t even have to touch you.”

and then, very softly: “what a filthy, perfect girl you are.”

you nearly sobbed.

he wrapped his arms around you, lifted you like you weighed nothing, and laid you on the bed—still inside you, still throbbing hard.

“don’t think we’re finished,” he said, sliding out slow, teasing, only to push back in and make you gasp. “not when i’ve just discovered how to ruin you.”

he kissed your forehead, lips soft and reverent.

“i’m going to praise you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

and knowing him? he meant it.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

you knew what kind of night it was going to be the moment toji showed up at your door, leaning against the frame like he owned the place, shirt already unbuttoned halfway down and a smug glint in his eyes that said trouble. the man had no business looking that good at midnight.

"heard you’ve been stressin’ over your exams," he said, stepping inside without waiting. "figured i’d help you take the edge off."

“oh?” you quipped, cocky—until his hand gripped your throat lightly, tilting your head back just enough for his mouth to meet yours. and like always, he didn’t ease into it. his kiss was tongue and teeth and a little bite to your bottom lip that made your knees weak.

you didn’t even know when your panties came off. or when he bent you over your desk, your cheek pressed against open textbooks and crumpled lecture notes. all you felt was the heavy drag of his cock, thick and slow, sliding inside until you were full—so full you whimpered.

“fuck, always so tight,” he groaned, pressing his chest to your back. “like you’ve been waiting for me.”

he set a brutal rhythm, fucking into you like he was mad, like he missed you, like he needed this. every slap of skin echoed through the room, and your voice broke with every thrust. but then—

“such a good girl,” he muttered, not even thinking. just slipped out like it was instinct.

and your body snapped. you clenched around him hard, nearly choking on your moan.

he paused.

“…no fuckin’ way,” he breathed, pulling your hair to lift your head. “say that again.”

you stayed quiet. trembling.

he slammed back into you so hard your legs buckled.

“nah, princess. don’t hold out on me. you like that, huh? like bein’ called my good girl?”

you whined, breath hitching, face burning.

toji let out the filthiest, cockiest laugh. “holy shit,” he whispered, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. “you’re tellin’ me you cream the second i open my fuckin’ mouth? shit, baby—you’re so easy.”

his hand reached around, rubbing tight circles on your clit. “go ahead then,” he rasped. “cum on my cock. be my good fuckin’ girl.”

and just like that, you shattered.

you came so hard your thighs trembled, knees giving out under you. and toji? he just held you up, praised you through it, voice low and ragged in your ear.

“atta girl… so fuckin’ pretty when you cum. makin’ a mess on me already?”

he flipped you over like you weighed nothing, lifted your leg, and slid right back in.

“oh, we’re not done,” he grinned, breathless now, pupils blown wide. “you think i’m lettin’ this kink go to waste?”

you barely had the strength to answer, still shaking.

he leaned in, kissed you like he was mocking how ruined you looked. “you’re gonna cum for me again,” he promised. “and again. and again. until you’re cryin’ from bein’ called a good girl.”

and you knew—knew—he meant every word.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

it was late—quiet. the kind of silence that presses in on you thick and slow, where even the smallest sound feels amplified. sukuna’s apartment was dimly lit, just the soft, golden glow from the single lamp in the corner casting long shadows over the room.

you were straddling his lap, completely bare, thighs draped over his, your arms loose around his neck. his back rested against the couch, body warm beneath you, and his eyes—those deep, dark red eyes—never left your face. not even when your hips moved. not even when your breath hitched.

he had you seated right where he wanted you, hands gripping your waist, guiding your rhythm—slow, deep, unrelenting.

and you were a mess already.

“look at you,” he muttered, voice a low, amused rumble. “bouncin’ on my cock like you’re made for it.”

your breath stuttered, thighs twitching.

his fingers tightened on your waist just slightly. “you like that, huh? being told you’re good?”

you didn’t answer fast enough, but your body did—your eyes fluttering shut, hips stuttering, your moan nearly breaking apart in your throat.

and that was all he needed.

sukuna leaned in, mouth brushing your ear with a grin that you felt more than saw.

“ohhh. so that’s what this is.”

his tone dipped—taunting, smug. “my little girl gets off when i talk to her nice.”

you squirmed, half-mortified, half turned on beyond saving.

he tilted his head, watching your tits bounce with every needy rock of your hips. then he slipped a hand up, dragging his thumb lazily across your nipple, his other hand gripping your ass tight enough to bruise.

“you want me to keep tellin’ you how perfect you feel?” he whispered, suddenly more serious. his voice still laced with heat, but there was something darker behind it now. possessiveness. awe. “how tight this pussy is, how it sucks me in like it can’t breathe without me?”

your head dropped to his shoulder with a broken whimper.

“fuck—look at you.”

he let out a shaky breath, hips jerking up. “you’re gonna cum already, aren’t you? just from me talkin’?”

you nodded, desperate, babbling nonsense against his skin.

and then he said it—soft, low, raw:

“that’s my good girl.”

you shattered.

back arching, fingers clawing into his shoulders, your entire body went stiff before it trembled against his. you came so hard around him, so violently, it knocked the breath out of you—and sukuna just held you, smirking against your throat, murmuring filth between kisses.

“knew you were filthy for me.”

kiss.

“but this? fuck, baby. that’s dangerous.”

kiss.

“gonna use that mouth of mine to ruin you every night now.”

you didn’t doubt it for a second.

and from that night on, every time his voice dropped just a little, every time he muttered good girl into your ear—you remembered exactly how it felt to lose yourself right there on his lap, under the glow of that lonely little lamp, with praise melting off his tongue like sin.

SHIU KONG

it was supposed to be just a drive. just a night cruise with the windows down and your hand resting lazily on his thigh, music low and city lights flashing by. but shiu had always been the type to snap once something got under his skin—and you? dressed like that, soft thighs bare and eyes teasing him from the passenger seat?

you knew what you were doing.

that’s why you weren’t surprised when he suddenly pulled into some dark, quiet parking lot and killed the engine without a word.

his voice was low, rough when he spoke, hand gripping your chin as he leaned over.

“get in the back. now.”

you didn’t argue.

the car door slammed, and the moment you slid into the backseat, he followed—tall frame looming, heavy with intent. he didn’t give you time to process, to breathe—just pushed you down until your back hit the leather, and his mouth was already on your neck, hands everywhere.

“you always this bratty?” he growled against your skin. “or are you just desperate to get fucked like a little slut?”

your answer was a gasp, knees spreading on instinct. he chuckled low—one hand pushing up your skirt, the other unbuckling his belt in a way that felt both urgent and terrifyingly controlled. he wanted this, but he wanted to savor it.

his fingers slid between your legs, felt the mess there already.

“fuck—this wet already?” his brows twitched, head tilting. “just from me tellin’ you what to do?”

and then, a little slower:

“…do you like that?”

your breath caught in your throat.

“do you get off on being told you’re a good girl?” he murmured, right by your ear now, voice like hot velvet dragging across your spine. “is that what this is?”

you whimpered, body twitching, thighs tightening.

his grin was all sharp teeth and danger.

“well shit. that’s easy, sweetheart.”

he lined himself up, still fully clothed, only his zipper down, and pushed in with one long, slow stroke. you cried out—sensitive, overstimulated, and shiu loved it. he leaned over you, one hand gripping the seat above your head as he began thrusting, rough and deep, the car rocking with every snap of his hips.

“fuck, you feel good like this,” he panted, watching your eyes roll back. “so goddamn tight. takin’ me so well.”

then—he tried it.

soft, breathless, dangerous:

“good girl.”

your whole body clenched.

he stilled.

“…no way.”

he looked down at you, your chest heaving, face flushed, mouth open in a silent moan, your walls fluttering around him just from those two little words.

“you’re fuckin’ kidding,” he breathed, voice shaking. “you’re actually about to cum just from that?”

you nodded, whining—too far gone to be shy.

he groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “oh, i’m gonna ruin you with that.”

and he did.

over and over, thrusting deep, whispering it like it was sacred.

“good girl.”

“such a perfect fuckin’ thing.”

“look at you, clenching around me so sweet just ‘cause i’m praising you.”

he made you cum so hard, you cried—shaking in the back of his car while the windows fogged and your voice echoed against the leather.

and after? when you were still trembling, body boneless under him?

he kissed your cheek, still inside you, and smirked against your skin.

“next time, i’m doing this with the windows down,” he whispered. “wanna see how many people can hear you fall apart when i tell you you’re mine.”

HIROMI HIGURUMA

the city outside was still alive—lights flickering against the windows, muffled car horns somewhere in the distance—but in his office, it was nothing but dim lamps, the soft creak of the floor beneath the blanket he laid out, and the sound of your breathless gasps echoing off his walls.

he was above you. hands planted firm on either side of your head, body stretched long and tense, every muscle in his arms flexing with control as he moved inside you—slow, deep strokes that made your whole body tremble beneath him.

his tie was still on, his shirt half-unbuttoned and sleeves rolled to his elbows. he looked down at you like he was trying to memorize every single twitch of your face, every broken sound you gave him.

“you’re taking me so well,” he murmured, voice rough, reverent. “fuck—you feel incredible.”

and you whimpered.

he paused—just slightly—but his hips didn’t stop.

his brow furrowed, mouth parting as his eyes locked onto your expression.

“…was that it?” he asked softly, his pace slowing, hips dragging almost teasingly deep. “did that do it for you?”

your face was flushed, mouth open, eyes wide—betraying everything.

he let out a low breath of laughter, something between awe and amusement, and leaned down closer, his mouth brushing against your ear.

“oh, you like being told that. don’t you?”

your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging in.

“god, of course you do,” he whispered, hips thrusting again, more deliberate now. “you’re such a good girl for me. lying here, letting me fuck you slow—just like this. perfect.”

your whole body jerked, breath catching. and he felt it—your walls tightening, the tremble of your thighs pulling him in closer.

his voice dropped lower, rougher.

“gonna cum, sweetheart?”

you nodded helplessly.

he smirked—something lazy, dangerous—and dragged his hand down between your bodies, fingers brushing right where you needed them.

“do it. cum for me.”

then, slower—deeper—hot breath against your lips:

“be a good girl and cum for me.”

you broke.

your back arched off the floor, thighs shaking around his waist as your orgasm tore through you—so hard it hit like a wave, full-body and overwhelming. you cried out, clinging to him as your body clenched tight, trembling under his weight.

and higuruma—he didn’t stop. he kissed your temple, dragged his fingers along your cheek, whispered praises while you came undone beneath him.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, almost too tender for how deep he was still inside you. “so sweet. you always fall apart for me when i say it, don’t you?”

you nodded again, breathless, dizzy.

his lips curved into something between a smirk and a soft smile, brushing his mouth against your cheek as he pushed his hips in deep again.

“i’m never shutting up again, then,” he said, almost like a vow.

“you’re gonna cum from my voice alone by the time i’m done with you.”

and with the way your body responded—shaking, sensitive, already aching for more—you knew he meant it.

[yourname-exee]

Gojo's wife is calm, collected and well all around mature, much like Nanami. So when someone was taken by surprise that your last name was Gojo and not Nanami, that was the first time Satoru Gojo felt true heart break, his throat closed up and he thought he was about to blast this person into the sun. Is this what seeing red is like?

Buut of course his very sweet and understanding wife, simply placed herself into his side, hand pressing against his chest running it up and down as you say gently.

'Nope, this tall handsome fella is my husband.'

With the proudest smile on your face Satoru couldn't stay upset for long especially when you looked up at him with those soft eyes, he hooks his arm around your waist before standing up straighter a smile spreading across his lips, a cheeky smile some would say, as he responded with.

'That's right.'

(divider made by @adornedwithlight )

[cuntyji]

nerdjo by mvtchaee

[satoblue]

“she’ll have your eyes.”

your brows quirk up. “she?”

satoru hums, his large hand rubbing your swollen belly, growing with the life the both of you created together.

“how could you be so sure?”, you murmur inquisitively, fingers gently tugging at strands of arctic white.

your husband chuckles softly at your question, pulling you onto his lap as if you were a delicate thing made of glass, hands resting on your thighs.

his cerulean blue eyes dart down towards your stomach, rubbing the bump affectionately.

“i just am.”

“uh huh,” you sound with an undertone of disbelief. “and i’m assuming your six eyes must’ve shown you, oh great and powerful sorcerer?”

satoru snorts at your sarcastic response, pinching the flesh of your inner thigh gently for your cheekiness. you pout, and his eyes glimmer with amusement.

“maybe it did. maybe it showed me a cute little girl with your eyes and my hair. who knows?”

“hm… well, is that what you want? a girl?”, you fiddle with the collar of his uniform he neglected changing out of, opting to fall straight into your arms the moment he walked through the door.

your husband shrugs, his hands resting on your hips now, giving them a light squeeze. his sights don’t stray for a single moment from your pregnant tummy, caught up in imagining a tiny version of you inside, his heart fluttering with love and excitement.

“don’t care. as long as it’s ours.”

[madamechrissy]

Escort! Satoru- part one

Pairings- Escort Satoru Gojo x shy CEO F! reader

Warnings- eventually explicit sex, freaky but fluffy- this part- obsessed ass/whipped ass Gojo, mentions of sex, Satoru jerking off, whimpering (bc ofc) he becomes a little Yan tbh, Satoru half ass pleasing a client but he can't get you off his mind hehe, pretty woman vibes 🤭

Finished <3

Part two>>>

Escort! Satoru who doesn't just sleep with any client, no he's picky certainly, he gets to be at this caliber, of the most notorious escort there is. Some women he'll help get off with his fingers, some he'll only let suck his cock deep in their throat, some very lucky ones he'll actually fuck, bent over crying out his name. No matter what however, they were always pleased, he has the best rating there even is on his site.

Escort! Satoru only takes jobs and clients that he feels like, he's the most popular person on this app, highly requested, he can browse who he's meeting before hand. And if he absolutely can't stand them, perhaps that - gasp - hate Digimon!? - he keeps it to just the date, a polite fake smile on his perfect features, baby blues hidden behind his dark round shades.

Escort! Satoru gets a notification, lounging around in his penthouse, yes Gojo is rich from this career, but he enjoys the thrill of this even more, and he enjoys putting a smile on a pretty girls face, giving them pleasure when they may have never had any. His dick is just too pretty not to share with the world, truly. - That may seem conceited but it's really just factual! - He peers at the notification then, blinking quickly as the picture, so gorgeous he's damn near blushing just from seeing your face, your bare shoulders in a slinky dress, fuck since when does he get half hard looking at collarbones!?

Escort! Satoru is already throbbing and hard the longer he stares at your picture, your shy and sweet little message on there with it - 'I have never done anything like this... but with work, I have no time for anything, and... I really need a handsome date to this charity ball. Could you please come with, I will gladly pay you extra to spend some time before so we can have our story together' Satoru blinks a bit, full lips pursing, beginning to type back. 'You buying lunch?' He smirks as you laugh react to his comment. 'I'm buying lunch'

Escort! Satoru doesn't date in real life, he's merely arm candy for many women, but when he sits across from you at the outdoor diner, and you smile shyly, his heart fucking stops. He's been with so many beautiful people, but nothing has made him feel whatever this is. 'Hey there!' you introduce yourself, and he can't stop staring at your lips as they move, you have a pretty red color adorning them, he tries to focus but his brain is short circuiting. 'Satoru...' he says, taking your much smaller hand in his own, staring at you behind Gucci shades. He never lets dates call him that, he prefers Gojo of course, but when you repeat 'Satoru' in that sexy voice, he's ended.

Escort! Satoru forgets what time even is, while you pour over some details of your life with him, he's never been more interested actually in how you played the flute. Tell him it all. That you like Pokemon- Digimon is better but- close enough, tell him about your collection. He can't get enough, you all spend so much time talking the sun is starting to set. 'Oh no, we should go! I'm keeping you-' Satoru lowers those shades, his bright blue eyes drinking you in, making you falter as they trail across your body ever so slowly, making you heat up, remembering his profession. 'you're not keeping me, but one question, sweets' he leans forward, so close now, brushing back a lock of your hair. 'why would you go to an escort agency, is it just for the date? or more?'

Escort! Satoru loves watching the blush dance on your skin, the glittering of your eyes when he pulls back, thumb brushing your heated cheek just so, feeling it's warmth. 'It's just for the date, I read your reviews, they're insane...' he grins now, brushing back silvery locks. 'read which reviews?' you heat up further, fiddling with your fingers just a bit. 'If it went that way, it'd be the first time in years for me' Satoru blinks in shock. 'how?' You sigh, sipping the rest of your drink down through your straw. 'work plus being a homebody nerd, well... I never meet people or have time' ah, Satoru could make you cum so hard you wouldn't be able to form words, but he takes a sip of his own drink, saying casually- 'and you never... want to?'

Escort! Satoru thinks you're so cute when your teeth catch your lower lip, and your lashes flutter. 'of course but that's not why I hired you, I really do need a perfect date, though... your looks may have swayed me' he chuckles a bit now. 'So shallow!' you scoff, as the two of you get ready to leave. 'Do you have a suit or do you need me to buy one?' Gojo smirks at you. 'I have so many suits, and tuxedos, don't worry' 'ah you come prepared I see' he hums just a bit, walking you to your car, far too close when he leans over you just a bit, inhaling the sweet scent of you. 'I'm prepared for whatever you need, sweets, anything at all' at his connotation he watches you get more flustered, giggling a bit, feeling so stupid next to a guy like this, but he just finds you the cutest thing he's ever seen.

Escort! Satoru can't take how much you're sinking into his mind the passing days, the charity ball is in a week, but the two of you constantly text for 'practice' but he becomes more and more enamored, you're smart, sweet, and oh so fucking pretty. When you send him a selfie before he goes on a date with a client, he can hardly take it, you're in your business suit, nothing sexy- but it drives him to distraction, your pretty lips he can picture around him. Satoru can hardly focus when he's supposed to be pleasing this girl, his fingers usually so sure aren't hitting her spots, because now he can only think of you.

Escort! Satoru cannot have a bad review, oh no, he decides to excuse himself from the pretty girl on her bed, going to the bathroom to stare at this picture of you. beautiful, can I see more? when you read that you nervously shut the door to your sky rise office, unbuttoning just a bit of your blouse, tummy clenching when he hearts the message, you know you shouldn't get so excited, you're paying him after all. He's likely with a woman constantly, you see the sheer amount of reviews, but you can't help yourself, you find him entirely too charming, it's easy to forget this is just for business. For every salacious review, there were others- sweet, funny, made me feel pretty- and that's what really drew you in.

Escort! Satoru after he recieves that sexy little picture, instead of going into the room with the eager girl waiting, is instead stroking his long, pretty cock, head falling back against the door, while you nervously button your blouse back up, imagination going insane. You weren't against sleeping with someone casually, but for money would it mean... he didn't want to? The thought eats at you while Satoru's dripping precum over his phone, right on that picture, whispering your name ever so softly, forgetting where he was and shit, who he was, he can practically see those nipples under your blouse, dying to know what they taste like.

Escort! Satoru may have had sex before with the client surely, he loves a beautiful woman, before he met you. But now you're constantly on his mind. Even with his cock so hard and ready, when he's back to kissing on her and playing with her, he can't do more, frustrating him to no end. He has her squirting down his hand with the way his practiced fingers know how to hit every woman's spot, she's dripping down to his wrists, even. When he finishes, she looks up at him, all fucked out, trying to kiss him, but that's Satoru's biggest rule, never, ever kiss on the lips. He turns his head. 'sorry sweetheart I don't do that'

Escort! Satoru takes his extra money, he made bank tonight, but the entire time he had his fingers curling inside a slick, eager hole, he was picturing them deep inside you, watching as you cum for him. You'd probably sound and look so pretty, wouldn't you? As you're shooting him a good night text- who even has ever sent him one? - you're back on his mind, still aching from earlier. Turning down blowjobs is not something Escort Satoru does, but he did, and now he's throbbing when he rubs himself over his boxers, whimpering just a bit, pulling the picture back out and working his hand up and down his shaft, as it's aching to fill you

Escort! Satoru has a notification from one of his regulars pop up on the phone, right above that picture he can't stop staring at, while his cock is sticky from his spit and precum, loud in his opulent bedroom, the sound of it lewd along with his heavy, husky breaths. He's picturing just what you'd look like on your knees, with those innocent eyes, maybe he'd tear that business suit off your body, and paint every pretty inch of it with his ropes of cum, until you were just covered in white. The thought alone makes him decline the request, shutting his eyes and picturing just that as his spurts of white cum pour down his hand.

Escort! Satoru whimpers when he touches his sensitive tip, murmuring your name, trying to come down. He finds himself cleaning himself up and staring at the mirror, wondering just what the fuck you've done to him already. Surely it's... something new or different, it can't be more right? He hovers over choosing the date, or messaging you good night, and finds himself texting you with a dumb little 🥺, smiling like a lovesick fool when you send this to him-'can't wait for our 'date' it'll be fun! 😍- and Satoru's getting hard again from a fucking emoji.

[tojis-girl]

fratboy!satoru dating nerd!reader was an odd mix. you two never really liked the same things - there was one thing you both liked though and that was libraries. separate reasons though.

fratboy!satoru mumbled into your ear - telling you that you were a good girl and were doing so soo well for him!

fratboy!satoru whos large hand made its way up and down your thigh, comforting you while you wrote something down in your note pad.

nerd!readers who cunt was warming up fratboy!satoru dick, your warmth making his tip dribble out cum. your sat on him innocently but underneath the skirt you wore was anything but innocent.

you whine when you feel his dick twitch inside of you but he just tells you to continue with your notes.

fratboy!satoru who finds it interesting how your constantly reading and writing but the moment a dick enters you - you wanna do anything but!

fratboy!satoru who tells you to shut up, harshly digging his nails into your plush thigh as a punishment when your mewls grow to be a little too loud.

he doesnt want anyone else to hear the pretty sounds you make!

"Shut up, princess, or itll be even worse later."

[tojbnuy]

art by @ _3aem on twt!!

bestfriend!satoru who spam comments under all your posts and makes sure to let everyone know that he’s the one who took the pic

bestfriend!satoru who doesn’t ever let your read your books. he lays his head in your lap and demands you read aloud to him.

bestfriend!satoru who’s always kissing your cheeks to say hello and bye bye. sometimes they linger a bit too long but it’s only cos he finds you so cute .

bestfriend!satoru who talks suguru’s ears off about you. every detail about your outfit, the new shade of gloss you had on today, the way your ass looked absolutely perfect in those jeans. frankly suguru is sick of him.

bestfriend!satoru who sulks as soon as he finds out you’re going on a date. he’d lie on your bed with your plushies squished in between his biceps and whine about you being too pretty for this guy.

bestfriend!satoru who waits patiently for your return and can’t help but smile at your tipsy state. clearly date didn’t go too well. he helps you undress, fingers caressing the smooth silky skin of your back as he lets your dress fall.

bestfriend!satoru who gets mad when you say you’re fine to sit in sugurus lap since there aren’t any seats left in the car. he abruptly slams the car door in sugurus face and drags you over to his side. ‘come on baby you don’t sit in anyone’s lap but mine.’ and next thing you know your snug in his lap with his bulky arms wrapped tight around your waist. ‘just to keep you safe pretty.’

bestfriend!satoru who claims ‘one kiss won’t change anything’ and then he’s pressing his plush lips to yours. his tongue making its way into your mouth as his hands pet at the small of your back. ‘course it’s fine we’re best friends’

bestfriend!satoru who towers over you and always has a spare hoodie ready for you because he knows you never wrap up warm. truthfully he adores the way you look in his clothes, his hoodie reaching mid thigh on you and still you had miles of legs left on display. he’s always saying how much he loves your legs but he doesn’t think you know to what extent. plush thighs and a round ass that he had dreamt of far too many times.

bestfriend!satoru who knows it’s sick but everytime you nap in his room he picks you up and places you in his lap. just so he can feel your soft breasts pushed against him. his hands will wander until one of them is squeezing at your ass and the other is stroking the soft skin at your thighs. ‘sorry baby you’re just so pretty when you sleep’

bestfriend!satoru who peeks at you when you’re changing in his room. baby pink underwear with a little bow dotted right at the front.

part 2 !! part 3!! part 4 !!

[jjk4isen]

super annoying gojo satoru when a girl comes up to you and asks you if he's your brother even after clearly seeing him grabbing your ass and saying super cheesy lines to you to make you only roll your eyes at him.

and you're stuck dumbfounded because it's not rocket science to figure out that you two are a thing just by looking at the both of you because the clingy bastard is quite literally stuck to you everywhere you go, whining and pleading for yet another kiss after stealing several from you.

and it's the same clinginess that prompts him to answer in your stead "yes actually. we're siblings" he beams a smile at you and you scowl, why the hell is he feeding onto this random girl's delusions like that? can't he take the hint?

you're not done scrutinising him when he grabs your chin with his big ass hands and smashes his lips onto yours, tugging and devouring your mouth into an extra sloppy kiss for the girl to take a hint.

he pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he licks his lips where yours had been a second ago. "is that obvious enough?" he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as you see the girl storm off in the corner of your eye.

[all-with-angel]

Snip. Snip. Snip.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Why'd you stop?"

Satoru asked, voice slightly shaky as he sat on the makeshift barbers setup you, Shoko and Suguru had made for this occasion specifically.

"Yikes." You heard shoko mutter, just before the flash of a photo being taken came from her flip phone.

"What's that supposed to mean?!?" Satoru's voice rose, back straightening just a bit more but not moving away from his spot. All the while you stood behind him, staring at your handiwork. "Hey?? Answer me!!"

You could hear Suguru nearly knock a vase to the floor as he's stifling in his laughter. Poorly, may I add.

"Damn, I messed up," You dropped the pair of the scissors to the side, grabbing the razor and clicking it on. "We gotta go bald."

You sighed in acceptance as Shoko and Suguru had moved to restrain a now-screaming Satoru in the chair with maximum effort. All the while giggling like idiots.

It was your mistake, but it had to be done. It was for the best. Even if Gojo was screaming bloody murder at you.

[white-poppie]

Status upgrade ?! ⎯ ft. jjk men

feat ⎯ satoru, kento, suguru, sukuna 'n toji

synopsis ⎯ you accidentally refer to your boyfriend as 'husband' !

a/n ⎯ I was giggling the entire time writing this, also sukuna is not the king of curses here because I said so.

✶ ࣪˖ GOJO SATORU

You can't seem to be able to catch your breath with him, not enough air fills in your lungs as you stare at him with clenched fists and a taut jaw.

"What part of 'I didn't want you to take on that mission' did you not understand 'Toru?" you say, exasperated, your voice cracking in sheer frustration after having gone back and forth the same topic infinite times, all ending with 'you know I have to, it's not like I want to,' or something like that.

But you are tired, you really are, the kettle whistling cacophonically when the two of you finally found time for an intimate little movie night, interrupted by a call on his phone and then him subsequently teleporting away like it was nothing. Like you were a fool, feeling all giddy for just finally being able to spend time and woosh, he's gone.

"I'm sorry baby, you know I have no choice, there are people who depend on me." His pretty face crumpled in guilt and annoyance all the same. And every time he says this, it's like his way of shutting you off, because how do you even respond to people's lives being dependent on him?

Its too much, it really is too much sometimes. Somehow, all of these discussions end with you feeling like the douche.

"I hate when you do this," you choke, "I can't even have a little time with my husband now." It leaves and you don't even register it, but Satoru does.

He takes in a deep breath, his own throat in brambles while his heart stutters. A little slip off the tongue and it hits him harder than ever.

"Your husband?" he says, trying so desperately to not let his muscles twitch into a wide grin, but he can't help it. And so against the situation, his eyebrows soften down and little smile appears on his face.

There is a tender feeling in his chest that seizes his entire being, somehow, that one word makes all of it feel so tangible. Your concern, endearing then, seems heartfelt now. A sudden strike of accountability that perhaps stems from the little future he imagines within that few-second interval when you call him your 'husband.'

"Whatever," you bristle, annoyed, embarrassed at the slip of the tongue, turning around to walk away from him, before two muscular arms find their way on your waist and you freeze. His weight against your back, nose nuzzling into your shoulder, tufts of white hair tickling against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into your shoulder flesh, hot breathing fanning against the skin. His arms tighten around your waist as though holding your back from moving, to keep you planted as you are, in his arms, forever. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll say no, I promise I'll try to reject the missions I can." He whispers out, planting kisses against the expanse of your neck causing you to shiver against his broad frame.

You sigh deeply, hand coming to caress his face. "Okay," you breathe out.

"And as your husband — I should really stick to you like glue, yeah? More so if I wanna make it into reality," His large hand sprawls on your tummy and you can hear that damn smirk on his face.

Your cheeks turn red and you try desperately to backtrack, "It just slipped out of my mouth—"

"Yeah, yeah, as I was saying, do you prefer a pear-cut or a marquise-cut diamond?"

God he is so obnoxious.

✶ ࣪˖ NANAMI KENTO

You're sleepy, so damn sleepy that you could just fall into sleep the instant you find a surface to lay on.

"You look exhausted," Kento comments, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he looks at your weary form. You peer to look at him through the mirror on your vanity. He looks like a dream. His reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, a classic novella in his hands as he leans against the bedrest.

"Come here, love," he pats the space on the mattress, right beside him and you feet move before you can think, climbing onto the bed, you bury yourself against his side, curling in.

A soft smile graces his lips as he pulls you closer against his side with his free arm, his fingers carding through your hair.

"Tough day?"

"Mmh, it was so tiring," he nods at your reply, taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah? Tell me about it."

"Well for starters, I worked like a dog and then stayed for overtime, my favourite lipgloss finished and when I wanted to treat myself nice; they put too much sugar in my drink." You huff.

"Oh that sounds tiring," he murmurs, "why don't you get some sleep, hm? We can plan a little get-away this weekend." he whispered out, leaning over to keep his book and switch off the lights so they don't burn as sharply against your sleepy eyes.

When he settles back, he's met with a tender quirk of your lips, "You're amazing, Kento," you murmur, letting yourself be shifted carefully against him as he lays down from where he was sitting.

A deep, dulcet chuckle leaves him at that, "Really, what did I do?"

"Nothing, you just are perfect, the perfect husband a girl could ask for," it leaves your sleep-addled mouth before you can even comprehend it, and Kento freezes for just a second, his hand that was brushing your hair pauses in its tracks. On any random day he would have been flattered beyond words, but right now he is flattered and dumbfounded.

"Your husband?" he replies, trying his absolute best not to laugh and wake you up.

You blink, slowly as the realisation sets in and bury yourself against his chest in embarrassment. "Kentoooo" you groan out.

Nanami chuckles and shakes his at your embarrassed antics, utterly endeared, and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Why are you embarrassed, love? Its good you are already getting a habit of it, because it's not that distant of a future."

✶ ࣪˖ SUGURU GETO

The girls started calling you 'mom.' It happened slowly, gradually as you eased your way through the household.

Suguru was still 'Mister-Geto', but you were mom. That was enough for him, that meant everything, to watch the girls find solace in your presence.

A Sunday outing, one of the few rare days Suguru got free time from his cult and the way he spends it is to spend time with Nanako, Mimiko and you. You're seated at the girl's favourite restaurant, the girls on one side and the two of you on the other.

"I'll have a burger," Mimiko chimes "and fries."

"Why are you copying me? I said burger in the car first," Nanako looks at her with a sort of distressed expression.

"No but I thought of it before you said it."

"And I-I thought of it, yesterday."

And apparently they thought of the burger and fries the day before and the day before that, and the day before the day before...

"Girls, calm down," Suguru sighs with a soft chuckle, placing the menu down. "You can both get burger and fries."

"But do you really want to get the same thing everytime, there are other options on the menu too," you suggest, hoping to calm the tension down. "Like Chicken nuggets."

"I'll get Chicken nuggies." Nanako quickly suggests, earning a very obvious side eye from her twin. Suguru sighed, calling for the waiter at that.

"Uhmm, one chicken nuggets meal, a burger with fries and I'll have Aglio Olio and so will my husband." You mutter and the waiter nods, taking your order, and you are met with three curious, wide-eyed people back on your table. Suguru, Nanako, Mimiko; everyone's gaze stuck at you, making you very obviously aware of your blunder.

And for a second you wish you could melt into the seats.

"Are you married to already Mr Geto, mom?" Mimiko speaks out, slightly surprised and you can't help but groan in embarrassment at the innocent curiousity on her face.

"Not yet," Suguru breaks through the awkwardness, answering for you. His soft eyes reaching over to look at you, his fingers intertwining with yours under the table.

And you notice him share a glance with girls, as though a secretive pact you don't quite understand but they do.

"So we still need the rin⎯" Nanako tries to utter, to which Mimiko quickly places her hand on her mouth...yeah its going to be one interesting day.

✶ ࣪˖ SUKUNA

Sukuna has a staring problem and everyone notices it, including your coworkers at your 'stupid work-party' as Sukuna likes to call it. And he draws eyes, everywhere. Its hard to not notiuce him when he's towering everyone, standing in a corner all broody. He's eyeing everyone in the room, staring down at everyone who talks to you. If he were a dog, his damn ears would stiffen if he say anyone walking close to you.

"'Kuna, you are making people scared," you sigh at your boyfriend who's form fills the two piece suit like a damn glove, frankly you want to peel it off him, but that's a conversation for another time.

"Good," he mutter, sipping at the rum in in his glass, his hand slowly caressing the small of your back through your dress, his warmth anchoring you through the flurry of loud interactions.

"Is that woman who keeps bitching about her cheating husband instead of leaving him?" He mutters, languidly pointing of of the fingers of the hand that is holding his glass, a little too loud in your opinion.

"Sukuna!" you hiss to him, a warning, but he just shrugs and smirks, taking yet another sip.

"What, I'm just confirming all you 'tea' is about the right person."

You sigh, internally regretting bringing him as your plus one. your eyes land to your manager walking upto you and you immediately straighten up, putting on the corporate smile.

He walks up, raising an eyebrow towards Sukuna, before he looks expectantly at you for the introductions.

"Sukuna, this my manager, Mr Lim and Mr Lim, this is my husband, Sukuna." You introduce, and notice a bit too late Sukuna's grip around your waist tightens and you look upto with a nervous expression, realising how awkward it would be if he corrects you.

Instead, Sukuna smiles, extending his hand for a handshake "A pleasure."

Soon your manager leaves upon being called and youi feel Sukuna's warm breath on your ear, "Didn't know you were going around introducing me as your husband to people." He whispers.

"I-"

"No need, I like it, wife."

✶ ࣪˖ TOJI

Its three in the damn morning when Toji wakes upto the sound of vegetable chopping.He can't help but groan at the absence of your warmth on your side of the bed, reaching over to sling an arm, but he's met with the cold sheets instead of your sleeping form.

He decides against falling asleep again like an asshole and instead begrudgingly pads to the kitchen, barefoot, scratching his head. "Babe its four in the morning, why are chopping vegetables at this time?" he sighs with a yawn, his voice all sleep-addled and deep. Toji walks upto behind you, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around your form.

"I was hungry, 'Ji," you murmur. "And craving ramen." You add before he could protest with, 'why didn't you just eat cup noodles?'

"You and your damn cravings," he snorts, watching you stir the mix before he peels himself off you and gets cup noodles.

You look up at him wuth a raised eyebrow, questioningly, wasn't he criticising your random cavings just a minute ago?

"What? Seeing you eat is making me hungry too," he grumbles, boiling water beside you.

"This is nice," you comment with a fond smile, stirring at the makeshift recipe of instant noodles and veggies.

"What is?"

"Just this, cooking together...well not really cooking, but sort of spending time together like this with my husband⎯" You say without paying much attention and do a double take, slowly you turm your head towards Toji to see his reaction and to your surprise he smiles, a soft smile on his face as he watches the water boil.

"Yeah, I like it," he replies, his tone betraying a hint of fondness. "Maybe even as a forever sort of a thing."

Masterlist ⎯ 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

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