daddy’s little devils.
when dealing with not only one, but two mini versions of your husband is a type of chaos you never saw coming. but with him by your side, there’s nothing else in life you could’ve ever wished for.
pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. domestic fluff, slice of life, explicit smut
cw. dilf!sukuna, profanity, explicit smut, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, fellatio, spitting, unprotected, creampie, 18+
notes. 4.5k. just bcos i had to write dilf!sukuna version of this fic. enjoy >:D i was smiling throughout writing this! reblogs are highly appreciated!
Sukuna as a husband was unexpectedly romantic. Despite his cold and indifferent demeanor towards others, sometimes bordering on snarky and arrogant, he displayed a surprisingly soft side when it came to you. A really, really soft and incredibly clingy side, one where he always wants you by his side and becomes grumpy the moment you leave him alone for even a few minutes, claiming and whining about how you no longer love him. That was a hidden facet of his personality that no one else knew, a side that made him appear submissive to his wife rather than the other way around.
But to be honest, you loved that about him. You absolutely, with all your heart and soul, adored that about him.
However, Sukuna as a father was quite the mischief-maker. And having to deal with three versions of him in your life certainly didn’t make things any easier.
“Ryomen Sukuna… your sons,” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with exhaustion as you burst through the front door, “are a menace.”
Your husband was lounging on the sofa when you came home, an iPad in hand, watching as you kicked off your shoes and juggled with your bag and the twins’ belongings.
“Hey, baby,” he regarded you with a bemused expression. “What did they do this time?”
You didn’t even know where to begin. In all honesty, the question should have been: what did they not do?
“Ugh! My head hurts.” As soon as you released the bags onto the floor, you sank onto the couch, frustration evident in your visage as you ran a hand through your hair. “Raiden stabbed a classmate in the back with a crayon,” you recounted in disbelief, “And Ryuji drew your ‘tattoos’ all over himself with the teacher’s marker.”
Right on cue, the two little devils—his twin boys, his exact carbon copies—barreled into the house like the troublemakers they were.
“Papaaa!” the twins chorused, leaping into their father’s lap the moment they saw him.
Sukuna’s smirk blossomed into a grin, clearly amused and somewhat proud of his mini-me’s. “Aww, look at my little tattoo artist!” He applauded with amusement as he carried one twin on his lap. “That’s awesome, Ryuji!” Then, he turned to Raiden, who awaited his praise as well. “And Raiden, Mama said you stabbed someone? I bet your classmate was being a jerk, huh? Good job!”
The twins and their father bonded over the mischief, with Sukuna ridiculously acting as an instigator rather than reprimanding them. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse. Was he actually entertained with this whole ordeal? Jesus. You shot Sukuna a glare, finding the situation far from amusing. And as soon as he caught sight of your serious expression, his face softened into an apologetic stance, silently mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.
“Ryo, stop monkeying around,” you stated firmly, crossing your arms. “They’re causing trouble, and you do realize I had to endure a lecture about their unacceptable behavior, right?”
Only when he noticed the genuine concern in your voice did he shift his tone slightly, though you could see a hint of playfulness remaining. With your husband clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, it seemed like he was merely putting on a show of being a ‘strict dad’ in front of you, while secretly shooting winks at his sons as if to say he was just playing around.
“Alright, alright,” he began putting on an act, addressing his twins, “You two are grounded. Go to your rooms. Now.”
Instead of showing any fear, the twins giggled as they dashed out of the living room without a care in the world—their tiny footsteps echoing all over the house as they ran recklessly. They didn’t even listen when you shouted at them to be careful. And now you couldn’t help but cross your arms, clearly dissatisfied with how your husband handled the situation in jest.
“Baby, come on,” he coaxed, drawing you closer and enveloping you in his strong embrace. You could feel his chin resting on your shoulder as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “I understand your frustration. They’re naughty when they want to be. But you have to admit, they’re showing some… initiative.”
Raising an eyebrow, you watched as he struggled to suppress a laugh at his own words. “Initiative? They’re supposed to be learning how to share and play nice, not how to terrorize their classmates!”
“Right, right. Of course,” he murmured, attempting to ease the tension with a gentle massage on your shoulders. “I understand. I’ll have a talk with them, mommy. Let’s not get angry now.”
The dilemma here was your desire to maintain the facade of a strict mom, to avoid the embarrassment of picking up your kids from daycare for causing yet another trouble. You loathed the judgmental stares from other parents, the silent accusation that you and your husband weren’t disciplining your children properly. It was as if they viewed you as terrible parents. Like you didn’t raise your kids right.
At first, their opinions didn’t bother you; after all, they knew nothing about your family beyond the PTA meetings you’ve had to attend. But time and time again, after having to offer countless apologies to the parents of your sons’ classmates and the teachers who had to deal with them, their scrutiny was starting to get into your head—that perhaps you weren’t as strict as you thought. Perhaps you were too lenient. Perhaps you needed to assert your authority over your children so they’d learn to listen to you.
Yet, despite your resolve, you couldn’t resist the charm of your twins. They were just too adorable for their own good. And, well, their dad wasn’t exactly lacking in the charm department either.
With a sigh, you leaned against his chest. “I just want them to grow up to be good, not little terrors.”
Sukuna tenderly lifted your chin, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on your lips. “I promise, they’ll turn out great. Let’s not be too hard on them.”
~~
You had to acknowledge Sukuna’s efforts and give credit where it’s due. After he had promised to ‘talk’ to the kids, you did notice a marked improvement in their behavior since then. You and your husband used to take turns picking up the twins from daycare, but recently, he had insisted on doing it more frequently than you, saying that as his latest project had been completed, he now had more available time to pick up the twins after work.
You suspected the real reason behind his request was to alleviate your stress from constantly dealing with your sons’ antics. Knowing him, Sukuna also wanted to gauge the current atmosphere at the school by having conversations with the teachers and other parents to ensure there were no issues like bullying or other serious matters.
With that solution in place, Raiden and Ryuji became much less of a handful, and the main reason being the reward system that Sukuna had implemented for the kids, where he promised to buy them expensive toys if they earned stars for good behavior each week.
So that was how it went for the next two weeks. No calls from distressed teachers, no calls from concerned parents. In fact, the twins eagerly showed you their progress and proudly displayed the stars on their hands each time they received them. You couldn’t help but swell with pride at their accomplishments, because as small as they were to some people, they were huge achievements for you and your husband as their supportive parents.
At least, you could relax for now. With the twins having toned down their mischievous shenanigans, your mind was more at ease. To be fair, they might seem like little devils wherever they went, but when they were peacefully sleeping like they were now on the couch, they appeared as absolute angels in your eyes.
The living room was bathed in a dim light, with the glow of the TV screen illuminating their cute, little faces as they snuggled up together on the couch, in their peaceful slumber sandwiched between you and your husband. They had dozed off before the movie ended, and now, with the credits rolling, your family movie night concluded earlier than expected.
“My precious babies,” you cooed in a hushed voice, gently stroking Ryuji’s cheek and planting a kiss on Raiden’s nose. Their eyes, their brows, their nose, their lips—every detail was taken from their father, and nothing from you. But you didn’t mind, because you knew just how strikingly handsome they would be when they grow up. “Looks like our little troublemakers couldn’t make it to the end of the movie.”
Sukuna chuckled softly and glanced down at his sleeping sons with a fond smile. In holding his family close, he could feel that blissful warmth flooding his heart at the sigh of his wife and his kids snuggled together. “They’re tired today. Didn’t even last an hour into watching Megamind.”
You smiled, carefully rising from the couch so as not to disturb the sleeping twins. The moment you caught your husband’s eye, you gestured for him to lift Raiden into his arms. “Let’s get them to bed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, scooping up Raiden, while you lifted Ryuji, and together you carried your kids to their room.
After tucking each twin into bed and giving them a final kiss on the forehead, you motioned for your husband to quietly exit the room with you. He was still adjusting the AC for their comfort before following you out close behind. The lights in their room now completely switched off.
“They’re out like a light,” Sukuna whispered as both of you made your way towards the master bedroom.
You stifled a yawn, stretching your arms. “Finally, some peace and quiet.”
“Nuh-uh,” countered your husband, who was now grinning mischievously as he stopped in his tracks and grabbed you by the waist. “Not so soon, wife.”
Before you knew it, you were pressed against the wall, a mere few inches outside your bedroom’s door, caged between your husband’s toned arms as he looked down at you like a lion looking at its prey. His animalistic gaze never failed to send you into an orbit of weakness, like always. “H-Hey.”
A teasing smirk then appeared on his handsome face. “You know, babe, now that the boys are asleep, we could really make good use of this time.”
“Really, now?” You held back a chuckle, cheeks heating up from the wanton desire on your husband’s eyes. As you crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, you didn’t realize that such action only caused him to go even crazier than he already was.
“Dammit.” His eyes danced in lust as he stared at your cleavage when you crossed your arms. He had good self-control, too. That was… until he couldn’t resist it anymore. He had to have his hand squeeze one breast gently, fondling the rounded mass like they were his personal stress balls. “Are you ovulating, honey? They look huge.”
You weren’t sure as it had been while since you tracked it, but your breasts did feel heavier lately. And sore, too, because he was kneading them. “Hmm. I might be expecting my period soon.”
Very playfully, Sukuna leaned forward to trail kisses along your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, “What do you say we add another one to the bunch?” was his whispered suggestion, “A little girl, maybe? I know a few positions.”
“Are you serious?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “With these two little devils wreaking havoc, you still want to add more chaos to the mix?”
His finger was already looping around the strap of your nightgown, pulling it down with a salacious upward curve of his lips. “You know you love the chaos, babe.” You could feel his hands moving to grab a handful of your buttocks, squeezing your bum eagerly. “Plus, imagine all the mischief our little girl could get up to.”
You couldn’t help it either—the desire, the tension. Not to mention, your husband was looking undeniably hot right now, with the muscles on his chest pressing against yours, making you want nothing but to see him shirtless again. Those toned abs, those muscular arms. God. His lips were also soft and sweet when he pulled you into an open-mouthed kiss
“You are,” you mumbled in between kisses, breathing heavily against his mouth, “very naughty, mister.”
You felt him smirking through your kiss before he grabbed your thighs, and lifted you up so you could wrap them around his waist. The kissing, the very intense kissing, with his tongue rolling against yours and you moaning against his mouth, was already as erotic as it could get. When was the last time you two had sex? Last week? You couldn’t remember which specific day it was, but you did recall it being only a quick one in the shower. This time, it definitely wouldn’t be a quickie as he seemed to have plans in giving you a sleepless night.
Sukuna carefully placed you down in your king-sized bed, pulling his shirt off and once again crawling above you to hungrily meet your lips with his. And did you mention he was a good multitasker? As he nibbled on your lower lip, breathing you in like you were an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough off, his fingers were also rubbing your clothed entrance, pulling your underwear to the side to touch your moist cunt.
“Mhmm—!”
Two fingers entered you without warning, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at the face you were making as he used his digits to find your sweet spot. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Y/N.”
You arched your back, spreading your legs wide open to give him full access to your core. The moment he was able to reach your g-spot, you could feel your lower abdomen coiling from the intense wave of pleasure that was coursing through your body. “Nghh—yes, daddy. That’s it!”
A few more pumps, hard and fast, had you gasping for air like a fish out of the ocean. He seemed to have loved the sight too, as he kept his dark, sultry eyes fixed on you while he fingered you like there was no tomorrow. “You’re one hot mama, aren’t you?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers and sucking on them to taste your slick. “Can I fuck your mouth, baby?”
“‘Mmkay,” you answered, pulling yourself up to help him rid himself of his pajamas. The sight of his bulge—his big, angry bulge—made you all the more excited. You had seen him many times before and knew just how huge his member could grow when aroused, but it still didn’t change the fact that seeing his fully erect cock surprised you every single time. Because it was thick, it was long, it was meaty, it was veiny. “Gosh, lovey. You’re huge.”
He obviously liked hearing that. Not only did you inflate his ego, it also made him desire you even more as he positioned his shaft on your face, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “Open your mouth.”
Like a good girl, you did as told. And your eyes went wide as he forced his cock inside, thrusting balls deep in and out of your mouth. He was doing it roughly to the point where your eyes pooled with tears because your gag reflex kept on fighting back. You couldn’t even taste him properly because your saliva was coating his entire length, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in satisfaction as you watched your husband throw his head back from the utmost pleasure of being inside your mouth.
“Ah, fuck. Fuck.” He cussed multiple times, jostling his hips before pulling his member out. “Your mouth’s so warm.”
For a moment, you replaced your mouth with your hand, an elbow propped on the other as you stroked his girthy length. You jacked him off at the pace you knew he preferred, and placed your tongue flat on the swollen pink head like it was a lollipop. You were kissing the tip with your eyes staring back at him, ultimately driving him into insanity. “Like that, daddy?”
“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his vulgar thoughts now consuming his actions as he grabbed your chin up, only to then spit in your mouth. “I’m gonna get you pregnant tonight,” he declared in a deep, raspy voice, “Gonna fill up that pretty little pussy with my cum.”
Damn, he’s serious about it?
As embarrassing as it may sound, you could feel your pussy clenching from his lewd words. “You want a baby girl for real?”
Your husband lowered himself down to meet your level, undressing you impatiently like a rabid dog who was ready to bite its victim. And in your naked glory, he then spread your legs apart and rubbed his shaft in between your labia. “I do,” he said, puppy eyes hoping for you to say yes, “I want a baby girl, please. Please. Please.”
Could you even resist this man?
You gave him an answer by nodding, holding your smile by biting your lower lip as you watched your silly husband reach through the nightstand in search of the lube. Because he was too crazed with excitement, a couple packs of unused condoms fell out of the drawer as he grabbed the strawberry-colored tube.
“Take it easy. Jeez,” you teased.
“You’re driving me nuts here.”
You decided to tease him even more by touching yourself, your fingers doing circular motions on your clit as your husband coated his entire length with the water-based lube. The smell of artificial strawberry permeated through the air, and with it being your favorite scent, you felt more stimulated than ever. “Mmm. I want you inside me now, lovey.”
“What mommy wants, mommy gets,” he joked, manhandling both your legs into placing it above his shoulders and putting you into his favorite position. The classic missionary. “Ah, shit.” He buried his member agonizingly slow. “Why… are… you so damn tight tonight?”
Maybe because you were clenching around his cock, squeezing his angry member with your velvet walls and giving him that extra good grip he always went absolutely wild for. “A-Aah! Y-You love it.”
“Fuck, yeah.” He began thrusting now. Using his thumb to spread your slit apart, he delighted in seeing his cock go in and out of your entrance, watching the full length be swallowed by your cavern entirely. And he was going from slow and sensual, to rough and fast in less than a minute.
He was just far too deep inside. Now, you were losing hold on your sanity as with every jostle of your body, your insides were also reacting more and more violently with your knees and thighs shaking. The skin slapping sounds were bouncing across the room, and you were hoping, praying, that your soundproof walls worked well enough not to wake your innocent twins. Because at this rate, you were going to squirt all over their father. It had been sometime since you felt the need to pee during intercourse, but that also speaks of just how intense Sukuna was plowing his hardened cock inside of you.
“D-Daddy, I… I’m…”
He attached his mouth on your right tit, playing his tongue around the nipple. “Mhm… You’re so sexy, mommy.”
Two little boys. And your husband still won’t stop until he gets his little girl.
Your mind was a whirlwind that night. The events that followed became such a blur because your pleasure overpowered your ability to think straight. All you could remember was Sukuna releasing his warm load into your womb after chasing his climax, and immediately after, he had your body twisted around and positioned into what he refers ‘the undefeated’ doggy style.
Gosh, he was telling the truth when he said he was going to fuck you all night with no breaks in between.
Because now, you were on all fours, being pounded from behind as you had your hands gripping the sheets each time he propelled his body forward. He was shoving his cock from behind like it was his day job, already familiar with the perfect angle and depth in which he had to rut you in. With his hands holding your hips in place, he raised one leg on the mattress, and the other knee still intact, to fuck you senseless.
“Mmm—Aah! Haah!”
The deeper he penetrated you, the lower your upper body went. You were now in a position with your chest down low, and your ass up high so that he could see your hole in a much, much better view. “You think you can take ‘nother round after this, babe?” he asked, breathless as he reached forward to squeeze your tit. “I don’t wanna push your limits.”
“I-I don’t t-think I c-can…”
You could hear his deep chuckle despite your frenzied state, and soon enough, he was increasing the speed of his thrusts once more, cursing and moaning while doing so, before shooting thick ropes of seed inside your cunt.
He collapsed next to you right after that, while you were completely limp in labored breaths as you lay beside him. The feeling of his semen dripping out of your pussy had you reaching for your husband’s arm, pointing towards the box of tissue with your half-lidded eyes. You were too sore to move.
Sukuna immediately got the cue. “I got it,” he said, pecking your lips before doing the task of wiping the mess on your body. And as soon as he was able to clean you off, he quickly went back beside you, pulling you into a sweet, husbandly embrace. “Good night, beautiful.”
You hummed in your drowsy state, his chest becoming the perfect pillow for your head to sleep on. “Night, night, handsome.”
~~
Good lord was his body sore.
But was that the greatest fucking sex he has ever had? Hell yes. It was so good that he even dreamed of it.
As the morning sun streamed through the curtains, the aftermath of your passionate night was evident in the tousled sheets and sleepy smiles that you both had that morning. He still had you in his arms, your body secured around his as he pressed his lips into your temple.
“Good morning, my love.”
You stirred awake, blinking sleepily as you stretched beneath the warmth of the covers. He could tell you were still groggy from last night’s events, and he was a hundred percent certain that you were also too sore to walk. “Morning, lovey.”
But before he could savor the domestic moment with you, the bedroom door burst open, and a fully awakened Raiden and Ryuji came in with their energy back at 100%. Oh, boy. Sukuna just had to forget locking the door last night.
Raiden, in his polka pjs, was jumping up and down excitedly. “Mama! Papa! Wake up!”
He was joined by his twin brother, Ryuji, who was in his striped pajamas, skipping around the room. “We want pancakes, pwease!”
Sukuna could feel you stiffening next to him, and he saw the look of panic in your eyes upon realizing that you were very much naked under the sheets. So, hastily and frantically, your beloved husband pulled the duvet, covering your chest from being exposed and hoping to conceal any tell-tale marks.
“Shh! Keep it down, boys,” he reprimanded the twins, “Mama and Papa are still sleeping.”
The stubborn Ryuji placed his hands on his hips. “But you’re awake, Papa!”
On the other hand, Raiden, who climbed the king-sized bed, was pointing towards his mother. “Mama, what’s on your shoulder?”
At the sight of the marks, Sukuna’s eyes widened in alarm and his cheeks were limned with a crimson hue. His mind raced for a plausible explanation because those exact bruises on your shoulder were, in fact, hickeys. So before you could speak, he took it upon himself to handle the matter. “That... It’s, uh, a battle wound.” He mentally kicked himself for such a ridiculous lie. “Mama’s very brave, you see. She fought off a giant mosquito last night.”
You stifled a laugh, burying your face into the pillow for a moment, and later deciding to play along. “That’s right,” you agreed, nodding seriously. “Mama’s a warrior.”
Raiden and Ryuji, however, were too smart for this as the twins exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not buying their parents' explanation. And with Raiden being the more vocal one, he pointed it out first. “But why does it look like a bunch of tiny kisses?”
Sukuna struggled now, and while he was still thinking of another excuse, you finally stepped in to try and save the day.
And thank the heavens, you handled it a lot more casually than he did. “It’s a secret,” you said, smiling at your kids, “Mama and Papa have a secret game they play sometimes. Right, Papa?”
Your husband quickly joined in on your little antic. “That’s right, it’s a secret game! But it’s only for grown-ups,” he clarified to the curious twins, who were clearly intrigued by this mysterious ‘game’. “You two aren’t old enough to play yet.”
The twins exchanged curious glances, their skepticism giving way to fascination. “Okay,” Raiden said slowly, still pondering the explanation. Ryuji just shrugged, accepting it more readily.
Only then did Sukuna breathe a silent sigh of relief as he was grateful for your quick thinking. But with children like these two, the interrogation was clearly far from over because Ryuji decided to make things even more complicated when he picked up an unused packet of condom on the floor, its bright red color attracting his interest. “Mama, is this candy?” asked your son, pointing to the strawberry logo, “Can I have it?”
“No, sweetheart, that’s not candy,” you softly spoke. The composure in your voice was outstanding. Sukuna should definitely learn a thing or two from you. “Give it to Mama.”
And while you dealt with the other twin, Raiden jumped out of bed and tugged at his father’s arm persistently. “Papa, pancakes!” he demanded, throwing a tantrum as he chanted. “Pancakes! Pancakes! We want pancakes!”
“Okay, okay!” The father sighed inwardly, shooting you a look for help as if he was their slave for the day. All you could do was chuckle and mouth ‘you got this’ back to him. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? “Coming right up, you little monsters.”
“Yayy!”
“Woohoo!”
You, barely handling the noise at six in the morning, groaned playfully next to your husband. “See? Having another kid isn’t as easy as you think,” you told him, “We can barely handle these two.”
Sukuna displayed a grin, running a hand through his hair as he looked at his wife and your little ones. “Boys, do you want a baby sister? Yes or yes?”
Raiden and Ryuji, in unison, answered giddily. “Yes! We want a baby sister!”
A look of defeat clouded your eyes, while your husband laughed and kissed your forehead. “You heard them, love,” he reminded, softly, “I want my baby girl soon.”
He knew that, despite your playful protest, having a daughter was a shared desire. “Fine.”
So in swift movements, your husband slipped into his pants beneath the covers, then got out of bed to scoop up the twins in his arms. “Alright, breakfast time you two!” he announced, heading towards the door with his sons cheering together. And just before leaving, he cast one last tender smile in your direction.
“I love you, Y/N. Chaos and all.”
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Fun Sized
Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him.
(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)
The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body.
You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you.
He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive.
The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right?
Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought.
When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you.
It was silent for a while, and then you said:
"Do you like sweets?"
That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs?
He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window.
You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back.
Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette.
"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough." You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily.
It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you.
And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain.
It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself.
"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot."
You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture."
"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes."
You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke.
"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that."
He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before.
"What?" He asks, "Why not?"
"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands."
"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine."
"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny.
You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was.
"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans."
He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you."
"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered."
"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes.
"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type."
"I'm everyone's type." He argues.
"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder.
"I like my men a little taller."
He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize.
He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back.
You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening.
"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet.
"Hi." He smiles.
You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face.
"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?"
He grins wider, and you relax.
He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again.
"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now."
You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly."
He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift.
"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption."
He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice.
"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once."
"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye.
"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?"
You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder.
Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips.
"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?"
He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use."
Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks.
You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black.
The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something.
You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked.
The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress.
Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.
There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.
You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now.
"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos.
You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole.
He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that.
"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.."
You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely.
"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her."
"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now."
"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back."
He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."
He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens.
"So, am I tall enough for you, now?"
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♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader.
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Expect a lot of objectification.
Manhandling, too.
And wolf whistling.
It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.
More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.
Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.
You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.
Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.
Dumbification Central.
“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."
They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.
He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.
They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’
They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.
The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.
They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).
Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.
More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.
“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”
Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.
Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.
He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.
He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.
He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.
“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”
Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).
He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.
“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”
He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.
“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”
Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.
And you’re no exception.
Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.
Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.
As do they all.
They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.
There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6’10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.
“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”
He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.
Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.
“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”
You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.
Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.
You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.
You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.
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