#mean gojo

[gojoluvs]

Forever yours.

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo, emotional trauma, manipulation, gaslighting.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader. Arranged marriage au! very ooc Gojo, Mean Gojo! CEO Gojo!

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime I update just send me a message also sorry for the spelling errors I didn’t catch :(

10k words

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You shivered in the cold, your back against your sleeping husband who was blissfully unaware of your discomfort. Your hair was a mess, your nightgown nowhere to be seen, and the small snores coming from your husband were the only sound in the room.

As you tried to get comfortable, you couldn't help but feel a little irritated with your husband. How could he sleep so peacefully while you were freezing?

Your eyes felt heavy as you sat up in bed, not bothering to cover yourself since your nightgown was missing. You grabbed the covers and wrapped them around your body, trying to warm up. Your gaze shifted to your husband, and you couldn't resist reaching out to touch his bare back. His muscles twitched at your cold fingers, and you couldn't help but smile.

"You're freezing," your husband mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"I'm fine," you replied, trying to sound casual.

But your husband knew you too well. He turned to face you, his soft white hair covering his face. "You're cold," he stated, placing a hand on your cheek to check your temperature.

"I'll be fine," you insisted, but your husband could see past your facade.

"Come here," he said, pulling you close and wrapping his warm arms around you. "Better?"

His soft skin against yours made you look away from his ice blue eyes. Staring right at your soul, you cupped his face and said, "Satoru." He stared at you, not saying a word, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"We need to talk," you continued, moving your hand back to his chest and tracing circles around it. Your heart was beating fast, and you knew you couldn't keep up the lie anymore. You were scared of his reaction, but you couldn't hide the truth any longer. You looked back at him, trying to soften your gaze.

"Do you remember how we've been trying to produce an heir to your business?" you asked, your skin feeling hot as your bare breasts were squished between his chest. His hand rested on your waist, and you could feel his warmth seeping through your skin.

Satoru's expression changed, his features hardening as he said, "Yes, I remember. What about it?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as you delivered the news. The temperature of the room suddenly felt much colder, and you couldn't help but shiver. Your heart was racing and you felt like breaking down and crying. The only reason you even got married was for your inheritance and the fact that you could give your husband an heir to his business, and now here you were, breaking the news to him that you might not be able to even carry his child.

You swallowed heavily, trying to keep your emotions in check. His piercing gaze never wavered, and you couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense scrutiny. His beautiful pinkish lips practically begged you to kiss them, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Instead, you looked at his neck and his defined collarbones, trying to distract yourself from the situation.

"Well, my family has a long history of the women in our family struggling with fertility and sometimes experiencing multiple miscarriages," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. His gaze went from soft to confused, his eyebrows furrowed for just a second before he opened his mouth, closing it with no words to say.

Satoru's grip on your waist tightened, and you could see the anger in his eyes. "You lied to me?" he asked, his voice laced with disappointment and betrayal.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "I didn't want to lose you or disappoint you. I know how much your business means to you."

He looked at you confused, looking away from you he stared at the curtains before looking back at you. “So you’re saying you cant get pregnant?” he retreated his hand from your waist, sitting up at the bed you did the same. Turning to look at him you placed a hand on the blanket.

His face twisted into a sneer as he looked at you, his eyes blazing with anger. He pushed himself off the bed and yanked on his boxers, his back turned to you in disgust. "So this fucking marriage was pointless?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. You flinched at his words, feeling a surge of hurt and anger rise within you.

You sat up on the bed, clutching the blanket to your chest as you looked at him. "Not necessarily," you tried to explain, but he cut you off with a harsh laugh. He turned to face you, his features contorted with rage. He bit his cheek, trying to control his temper as he grabbed his shirt from the floor and pulled it on.

"You tricked me," he accused, his voice low and dangerous. "You knew you couldn't have children and you still married me. What a waste of time and money."

"No, Satoru," you pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes as your husband once again cut you off. You could feel your heart breaking as he put on his sweatpants and turned to face you.

"You lied to me. The only reason we're even together is to have a fucking child and now you tell me this bullshit?" He scowled at you, his words like daggers piercing your heart. You couldn't believe the man you loved could say something so cruel.

Feeling numb, you grabbed the shirt he threw at you and quickly put it on. "Please, Satoru, listen to me," you begged, trying to explain yourself. But he was already grabbing another shirt and putting on his shoes. You felt a wave of nausea hit you and you stumbled, placing a hand on the nightstand to steady yourself. "I never said I'm infertile, I just said there's a chance I might be," you tried to reason with him, but he was already walking out the door.

As you quickly got dressed, you could feel the cool morning air on your skin as you slipped on your underwear. You grabbed a pair of leggings, not even bothering to check if they matched your top, and hastily put them on. In a rush, you grabbed your uggs and headed downstairs, trying to catch up with your husband who was already making his way down.

The sound of your footsteps echoed through the house as you descended the creaky wooden stairs. Finally reaching the bottom, you entered the bustling kitchen where your friends were gathered, talking and enjoying their breakfast.

You searched for your white haired husband and saw him sitting next to Suguru and Shoko who was carrying her baby. “Goodmorning!” Shoko said with a smile, gesturing for you to sit next to her. You smiled back and sat down, feeling a bit uncomfortable as your husband avoided making eye contact with you.

As you started to eat your breakfast, you couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. For a brief moment, you could feel your husband's gaze on you. Turning to look at him, you made eye contact for a brief moment. But there was no emotion in his eyes, just a hint of disappointment.

Shoko handed you a cup of orange juice and took a sip before sitting back next to Suguru. “So, you guys know the walls aren't soundproof, right?” She said with a teasing tone, looking at you and your husband. You looked at her confused, “What do you mean?”

Shoko laughed and grabbed her baby, placing him on her lap. “Oh, don't worry, we couldn't hear everything. But it was definitely loud enough to know something was going on.” She said, causing you to hide your face in your hands.

Embarrassed and flustered, you grabbed your cup and took a long drink of the orange juice, trying to distract yourself from the teasing.

"Oh," You said, feeling a bit flustered. "I didn't realize the walls were so thin." Your husband remained silent, his eyes avoiding yours. Shoko chuckled, "Don't worry, we're all adults here. Plus, it's not like we could hear everything." You nodded, grateful for her understanding.

Suguru smiled mischievously, "But we did hear some interesting noises." Your cheeks flushed even more as you took another sip of your juice. "Well, I hope we didn't disturb your sleep," you said, trying to change the subject.

Shoko shook her head, "Not at all. We were actually up with the baby anyway." She gestured to the little one playing on Suguru's lap. "He's been a bit fussy lately."

You smiled at the baby, "He's adorable." Your husband finally spoke up, "Yeah, he is." You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at his lack of enthusiasm.

Suguru caught your eye, "So, what's the plan for today?" You and your husband exchanged a look before you answered, "We were thinking of checking out the local market."

Shoko's face lit up, "Oh, I love that place! We should all go together." You and your husband nodded in agreement, relieved to have a distraction from the awkward tension.

“Sure, I needed to get some souvenirs for my mother and father-in-law either way,” Smiling you quickly finished your breakfast. Satoru wincing at the mention of his father. Sighing you quickly ran up the stairs, hurrying to change and look a bit decent after your dispute with Satoru.

Everything you thought would happen actually did - Satoru never truly loved you and never will. You were well aware that this marriage was not based on love, but rather on your inheritance and your ability to bear a child. The only reason your husband hasn't divorced you yet is because it is too early, and he is still waiting for your full inheritance to be transferred to his business account. He sees you as nothing more than a means to an end, a tool to secure his wealth and legacy

Brushing your teeth, you can't help but stare at your reflection, feeling broken and worthless. You know deep down that Satoru has always wished you were Jiyuu - his true lover who he could have married and started a family with. But instead, you were forced into this arranged marriage, never given a choice or a chance at true love.

Cupping your hands under the faucet and take a drink of water, you can't help but feel a sense of bitterness and resentment towards your husband. You are nothing more than a pawn in his game, and you can't help but wonder how long you will have to endure this loveless marriage before he discards you like a used toy.

You couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if you had a child with Satoru, if you could even have one. Your whole body ached, not from physical pain, but from the emotional toll it took on you. The constant stress and fear of Satoru's outbursts left you feeling drained and exhausted. Your heart ached, your head ached, and now your body ached. It was as if Satoru's abuse was constantly weighing down on you, physically and mentally.

Grabbing your coat and purse, you couldn't help but notice the lack of lavish gifts from Satoru. Sure, he would give you his card to buy things, but he never had the time to actually spend with you. Your relationship was more of a business transaction than a loving partnership.

You let out a loud sigh as you sat in the back of the Rolls Royce, Satoru sitting next to you with Shoko on his other side. In the front were Utahime and Suguru, the baby happily babbling in his mother's arms. His squishy red cheeks were more noticeable than ever, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards Shoko. She bounced the baby up and down in her lap, the little one only squealing with joy. It was a stark contrast to your own relationship with Satoru, and it made you wonder if you would ever have a child of your own in such a toxic environment.

Looking at satoru you tried grabbing his hand, for a quick moment he interlocked hands with you. But then he moved your hand and placed his on his lap.

Feeling rejected and unloved, you turned your attention to the scenery outside. The snowy landscape only added to the coldness you felt inside. Satoru's behavior had become increasingly distant and cold, making you feel like you were nothing more than an inconvenience to him.

Shoko's baby continued to make noises, feeling a pang of jealousy towards your friend. She had a loving husband who adored her and a beautiful baby, while you were stuck with an emotionally unavailable husband who seemed to only care about himself. You couldn't wait to get to the market and get away from Satoru's cold presence.

As the car pulled into the parking lot, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and freedom from Satoru's grasp. Finally, you thought, a moment away from his constant criticism and controlling behavior. Shoko was the first one out, quickly grabbing her baby and putting his coat on. You hesitated, taking a deep breath before getting out of the car. As you straightened your coat and grabbed your purse, Satoru went the way Shoko went instead of towards your destination. An all too familiar feeling of disappointment and frustration washed over you.

Summoning up all your courage, you walked towards him, standing next to him as he watched Shoko with a small smile on his face. "Satoru," you said, placing your hand on his bicep and giving it a small squeeze.

He turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes clouded with disappointment and disapproval. "Not now Y/N," he scoffed, shoving your hand off his arm and walking into the market without a second glance.

You couldn't help but feel hurt by his rejection and the harshness in his tone. It seemed like every day was a battle with Satoru, constantly trying to please him and meet his impossible standards.

As you walked into the market, your boots clicking on the hard floor, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ended up with a husband who was such an asshole. But deep down, you knew it was because of your own insecurities and fear of being alone. And as you continued to follow Satoru, trying to keep up with his quick pace, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hopelessness and resentment towards the man.

"Y/N!" Shoko's smile was infectious as she approached you, carrying a basket in one hand and her adorable four-month-old child in the other. Shoko had always been like an angel to you, and you couldn't help but smile in return as you made your way towards her.

“Oh my, here let me take him from you.”Without hesitation, you reached out to take the baby from her, feeling the warmth and weight of the little bundle in your arms. Satoru stood nearby, his eyes following you as you moved around with the baby, while Suguru stood next to him, discussing his latest successful business deal.

The baby squirmed slightly in your arms, his fluffy black hair a bit of a mess. But you couldn't resist running your fingers through it, feeling the softness against your skin. "You're such a cutie," you cooed, scrunching your nose and making funny faces at the baby. His giggles filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and contentment in that moment.

Your husband glared at you, watching intently as you played with his friends' child. The way your eyes lit up when he laughed and how you made cute faces at the child. For a split second, Satoru felt a warmth in his stomach, a warmth that crawled all the way up to his heart. He quickly pushed it away, reminding himself that this was not his child, nor was it his wife's.

He resented you for being forced into this marriage, and he saw you as nothing more than a duty to fulfill. But as he watched you with the child, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. You seemed so natural and happy with the baby, something he never saw from you when you were alone.

Tucking a hair strand behind your ear, you grabbed the baby and bounced him as you walked, grabbing the things Shoko needed for the outside barbecue you were going to have later. Satoru's heart clenched as he watched you with the baby, noticing the way you instinctively knew how to care for him. He couldn't help but wonder if you would have been a better mother to his children than he could ever be a father.

As he stood there, watching you and the baby, Satoru felt a sense of longing for a life that could have been. A life where he married for love and had children with a woman he adored. But instead, he was stuck in this arranged marriage, resenting his wife and feeling nothing but bitterness towards you.

But in that moment, as he watched you with the child, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for you to have a real marriage, filled with love and children. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to love you as he watched you become a mother.

"Toru, come and help your wife," Shoko said sternly, her gaze fixed on Satoru who stood there motionless, staring at you. You looked up from the baby in your arms, meeting his eyes that were filled with regret. For a brief moment, his gaze softened before he put up his usual facade.

He walked towards you and grabbed a pack of green beans and corn, tossing them into the small basket Shoko carried. As you all walked around the market, the baby fell asleep in your warm embrace. His tiny breaths were audible over the bustling noises of people talking and vendors selling their goods. For a moment, Shoko disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you and your husband alone.

Satoru's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he placed a hand on the baby's cheek, gently squeezing it. The softness in his touch and the fondness in his eyes showed a side of him that you rarely saw, making your heart skip a beat.

“Hes cute isn’t he?” You asked staring at your white haired husband. His hair covered his face slightly and his veiny hand combed his soft hair. “yeah he is.”

Smiling at him you were about to say something opening your mouth before arubtly closing it. Walking around for a little while you grabbed everything Shoko told you to grab. The baby fast asleep in your arms earning a few glanced and aws from the strangers in the market.

You stood at the meat aisle, waiting for your number to be called. Tapping your foot impatiently, you bounced the baby side to side. You weren't really fond of babies, but this one just had a special place in your heart. He was the son of your husband's sister, whom you were babysitting for the day.

As you fixed the baby's coat that was slipping from him, you smiled once again. The baby's presence always seemed to brighten your mood, especially in the midst of your tumultuous marriage. Your husband, Satoru, stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist and pulling you closer. It was a small gesture, but it made you feel slightly better about your situation.

Suddenly, a random lady appeared beside you, smiling at the baby and complimenting his looks. "Oh my god! What a cute baby you got there," she whispered slightly so as not to wake him up. Satoru's grip on your waist tightened, and you felt a small sense of protection from him.

"Well, he's not really mine," you said in a low whisper, feeling a pang of sadness as you remembered that you and Satoru were struggling to have a child of your own. The lady probably didn't hear you because she ended up speaking about how beautiful the baby looked and how he resembled Satoru.

As she continued to gush over the baby, you couldn't help but feel a slight shift in Satoru's attitude towards you. He had always been cold and distant, but as he listened to the lady's compliments and advice, you could see a hint of softness in his eyes. Perhaps, for a brief moment, he saw you in a different light.

Before the lady left with her meat, she turned to you once again and smiled. "You know the trick to get them to sleep is giving them a warm bath before, they really knock out." She then took out her ticket and grabbed her meat before leaving.

You looked up at Satoru, and for the first time in a long time, you saw a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, this baby was bringing you and Satoru closer together. And for that, you were grateful.

"Here, let me carry him," your husband offered, his voice gentle and understanding.

"I can handle it," you insisted, trying to ignore the way your hands were trembling. But your husband didn't budge, and you knew he was right.

You couldn't help but soften your eyes at him as you slowly placed the baby in his arms. He cradled the baby with ease, making him look even more attractive than before. You felt a warmth spread through your body, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach.

If it wasn't for the small amount of self respect you had for yourself, you would have jumped on your husband right then and there. But you couldn't deny the way his words from last night still lingered in your mind, making your cheeks feel hot. You remembered the way he filled you up and whispered that you would be a hot "mommy." You shook your head, trying to push away the dirty thoughts.

As you walked out of the store with your husband, you grabbed the meat and headed towards the front of store. Shoko stood there, her face full of worry. "What's wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I was just worried about you and the baby," Shoko replied, her eyes scanning over the both of you. "But it looks like you have a great support system here," she added, a small smile creeping onto her face.

She quickly pulled the baby close to her chest, trying to soothe their cries. You watched as she struggled to balance the bags in her free hand and carry the baby at the same time. Feeling guilty for not helping, you offered to carry the bags for her. As you reached for them, Satoru appeared behind you, his warm body pressing against yours.

You could feel his chest rising and falling, and his warm breath tickled your ear. "I can take it from here," he said in a low, husky voice. Taking the bags from your hands, he tilted his head and placed a small, wet kiss on your neck before walking towards the car.

You stood there, completely stunned, as he continued to walk without even sparing a glance your way.

As you walked out onto the porch of the snowy cabin, the serene surroundings greeted you. The sound of music drifted through the crisp air, accompanied by the smell of barbecue cooking on the grill. You couldn't help but smile as you saw your friends chatting and laughing with each other. You were dressed comfortably in shorts and a warm hoodie, with tan tights. Underneath your clothes, you wore a bathing suit, just in case you decided to take a dip in the nearby hot tub later on.

Suguru, carried his young child in one arm and a beer in the other. You plopped down on the couch next to your friends Utahime and Shoko, both of them sipping on cold cans of Mike's Hard Lemonade. As you settled in, you stretched your sore muscles and straightened your back, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. You watched your husband talking with Suguru, their conversation interspersed with sips of their beers. Despite the cold weather, they both seemed content in their conversation.

As you sat in the dimly lit couch, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards Jiyuu. You desperately wanted to know the background between her and your cold, reserved husband, Satoru. What could someone like Jiyuu have that made Satoru fall head over heels for her?

You grabbed a cold Mikes from Shoko and took a drink of the sweet strawberry liquor. "Shoko," you turned to your friend, "how close were Jiyuu and Satoru? And please, don't spare any details. I want to know everything."

Shoko raised an eyebrow and turned to look at your other friend, Utahime, before turning back to you. "Well, they started dating when Satoru came to work at his father's company," she said, grabbing some fruit and taking a bite of the juicy pineapple before offering you some. "They were always together, even outside of work. It was like they were inseparable."

"Then I know they dated for a long time, but they kept it a secret because his father didn't approve of their relationship," she said, her gaze shifting to your husband who was laughing with Suguru.

"Didn't approve of what?" You asked curiously, propping your legs up on the couch and wrapping your hands around them.

"Well, I know that Jiyuu's mother stole money from his father's company," she replied, her lips going into a thin line. "I don't really know much since I wasn't particularly close to Satoru at the time."

"Wow, that's quite the scandal," you replied, intrigued by the conversation. "But why did his father care so much about who Satoru dated?"

Shoko sighed, her expression turning serious. "Well, you see, Satoru’s father is very traditional and believed that Satoru should only marry someone from a wealthy and respectable family. Jiyuu's mother's actions brought shame to their family and his father didn't want Satoru to be associated with that."

Grabbing your necklace, you began to play with the cold gold, your fingers tracing the intricate pattern. "She eventually got fired since she also worked at his father's company, but once Satoru took over, he instantly hired her to be his secretary," Utahime explained, rolling her eyes at your husband.

"I never liked that Jiyuu girl," Shoko chimed in, nodding in agreement. "She's too...well, you know what I mean." She paused, her eyes flickering to the floor for a split second.

You stared at your husband, admiring his strong physique as he flexed his muscles under his black compression shirt. Your heart ached with desire to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort. But at the same time, there was a sense of pain and unease that lingered in your mind. You couldn't understand why there were days when he treated you with love and kindness, only to suddenly become cold and distant the next.

Lost in your thoughts, you fell into a heavy silence as you pondered the recent events. It was hard to comprehend how much Satoru must have loved her to go through the trouble of rehiring her as his secretary, despite the complications it brought to his relationship with his father. But at the same time, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain in your heart whenever you thought about your past lover, Toji. It was a pain that you couldn't explain, especially since you weren't even thinking about him at the moment.

As you sipped on your strawberry lemonade, mixed with a generous amount of alcohol, your mind drifted off to another scenario. You thought about Jiyuu, and how she must have suffered when she found out that her lover was unexpectedly getting married. The thought of her pain and heartache made you feel a sense of sympathy and understanding towards her. It was a reminder that love could bring immense joy, but also unimaginable pain.

You knew that feeling all too well, the feeling of getting abandoned and trashed by someone you loved. You had watched as she fell head over heels for him, the man she probably spent so much time with and spent imagining the life they would have in the future. Feeling sick to your stomach, you got up from your spot on the couch and stumbled towards the bathroom, ignoring her frantic calls for you to come back.

Passing through the living room and kitchen, you finally found the small white and blue bathroom. You threw yourself onto the cold tile floor, leaning over the toilet as you emptied the contents of your stomach. Your body shook with sobs as you realized the gravity of the situation - you had ruined everything. You had ruined this relationship, ruining the future Satoru could have had with her.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about how selfish and impulsive your actions were. You couldn't believe that you had let your own insecurities and fears destroy something so beautiful. You felt like such a shit person, and you knew that the guilt and regret would haunt you for a long time to come.

As you sat there, trying to hold back your tears, you couldn't help but think about how much your life had changed since your father had arranged for you to marry Satoru Gojo. You should have said no, or even run away from this forced marriage, but you were too afraid to go against your father's wishes. Now, as you sat on the cold floor, tears streaming down your face, you couldn't help but feel trapped and suffocated by this marriage.

The constant arguments and lack of love between you and Satoru had taken a toll on you, and you were exhausted from trying to make it work. You couldn't help but think that maybe Satoru would be happier with Jiyuu, who he had always loved. As you cried, your vision became clouded with tears, and you wiped your mouth with a piece of tissue. The cold floor beneath you only added to the physical and emotional pain you were feeling. You placed your hands on your thighs, feeling the tears dropping onto them, and you couldn't help but wonder how much longer you could endure this loveless and unhappy marriage.

You felt like a failure you felt like you were unable to be loved, to feel loved by someone else. Toji was long gone and now u were stuck in a marriage with Satoru who didn’t want anything to do with you. You felt like your body was slowly dying, your heart racing as you cried. You felt useless, like a piece of trash.

Closing your eyes you sat on the cold floor of the restroom, flushing the toilet you just stared at the floor. You didnt even want to live anymore, your life was a failure and you were a failure. The only person who understood you was gone, probably in love with someone else.

Your moment of silence was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, and you felt a surge of annoyance as you tried to compose yourself. You had been crying, and your husband knew it. He always knew. As the door slowly opened to reveal your white-haired husband, you couldn't help the feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you. He looked at you with a slight bit of concern, but you knew it was all just an act.

"Are you okay?" he asked, closing the door behind him before crouching down to your level. You held your breath, trying to make it sound like you weren't just bawling your eyes out a second ago.

"I'm fine," you hiccuped, your mascara ruined and smudged all over your face. Your husband sighed and got back up, grabbing your arms and lifting you up. He propped you up against the sink, the cold porcelain sending shivers down your spine.

"You're a mess, Y/N," he said in a whisper, grabbing tissues to clean up the tears streaming down your face. You stared at him with a mixture of resentment and admiration. Yes, he may be beautiful, but that didn't change the fact that he was the reason you were crying in the first place. You pushed him away, placing a hand on his chest.

"Satoru, stop pretending you care about me," you said bitterly, your eyes full of betrayal as you glared at your husband who remained unfazed. He casually opened the cabinet next to you, grabbing a pack of makeup wipes and opening it without a second thought.

"Y/n, I do care. You're my wife," he said, placing a hand on your chin and tilting your face up. He grabbed a wet makeup wipe and began wiping your eyes, trying to remove the mascara that had stained your cheeks.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as his blue eyes stared back at you. But you knew it was all a façade, a facade that he had been keeping up since the day you got married. "I'm sorry, I know I wasn't the woman you wanted to marry, Satoru," you said, avoiding his gaze as he continued to clean your face.

He didn't say anything, he was quiet. Only helping you off the counter, he threw away the trash and asked if you had thrown up. You nodded, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. He sighed and grabbed an extra toothbrush for you, handing it to you with instructions to brush your teeth and take some mouthwash.

As he stood next to you, his eyes bore into you with disdain. You could feel his distaste for you, even as he silently watched you do what he had instructed. You couldn't help but feel like a burden, knowing that your husband didn't truly care for you or want to be with you. You knew deep down that he only married you for your family's wealth and status.

“I'm sorry,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he didn't like when you apologized, but you couldn't help it. You always felt like you were walking on eggshells around him, trying to please him and make him happy.

“Stop apologizing Y/N, let's go back,” he said, his tone cold and dismissive. As he pulled you into a hug, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the warmth and love that was lacking in your marriage.

As he opened the restroom door and turned off the light, you interlocked hands and followed him back to the patio. All eyes were on you as you returned, and you could feel the judgment and pity from your friends and family. Your friend Utahime rushed up to you, her expression full of concern.

“Oh my god! Y/n are you okay? What happened?” she asked, looking between you and your husband. His grip on your hand tightened, a silent warning for you to keep quiet.

“I just felt a bit sick, I'm sorry. I feel much better now,” you forced a lazy smile, trying to downplay the situation. Utahime smiled back, but you could see the worry in her eyes.

Grabbing your back Utahime took you from Satoru’s grasp. Your husband staring at you as you walked away with your friends. “How about that hot tub we were talking about yesterday?” Nodding you followed her to the tub, Shoko already inside with Suguru, both of them deep in conversation before turning to you.

You took off your clothes, your black bikini showing. Climbing into the tub you dipped your feet inside, the warm water playign around with your feet. Putting your whole entire body into the hot tub you instantly felt relaxed. Your muscles loosing up on the warmth of the water.

The steam from the hot tub quickly enveloped the two of you, making the chilly air more bearable. Your husband reluctantly followed you, his shirt quickly discarded and replaced with a pair of baggy shorts that were handed to him by Suguru. You couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort as your husband joined you, his eyes roaming over your exposed body.

As you leaned back and rested your head on Utahime's shoulder, she gently squeezed your thigh in a comforting gesture. "I missed you too, y/n," she said, her long dark purple hair cascading over her shoulders. "I miss the carefree days of college, before we were tied down by marriage and responsibilities."

You let out a wistful sigh, nodding in agreement. "The parties were the best part," you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

But Utahime seemed oblivious to the tension between you and your husband, her eyes lighting up as she continued to talk about the parties and adventures you had together. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards her carefree attitude. You missed being able to let loose and have fun without worrying about the consequences.

“Oh my god Y/n,” Her eyes lit up, a smile creeping onto her beautiful face. “Do you remember when we snuck out of our dorm room to go to the frat party?” She giggled playfully shoving your shoulder.

The cold air filled your lungs, the hot water making the atmosphere feel safe, “And then we got caught coming back? How could I ever forget.” You said smiling back at her. Handing you a glass of wine you hesitantly took it taking a sip of the red wine.

"If I remember correctly, that's where you met Toji, right?" She asked, tilting her head with a slight smirk creeping onto her face. Satoru turned to her, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah," you replied, taking a gulp of wine. The liquid went down your throat, and you let out a satisfied sigh.

Satoru continued to stare at you, his eyes glaring. He couldn't understand why you would bring up your ex-lover, especially when he was right there next to you.

"You and Toji were so cute together. It's such a shame you had to break up," she giggled, tilting her head towards your husband who narrowed his eyes at her. You could feel his anger radiating off of him, but you simply took another sip of your wine, not wanting to engage in the conversation.

"Hey, that's enough, Hime," Shoko chimed in, shaking her head at your friend. You could see the tension in the room, and you knew it was time to change the subject. "Let's talk about something else," you said, trying to diffuse the situation.

As you lounged in the hot tub, the night seemed to stretch on forever. You laughed and joked with your friends, but every now and then, you caught your husband smiling at you. It was a rare sight to see, as he usually kept his guard up and his emotions hidden. But in that moment, it felt like he had let his barriers down and allowed you to see the real him, the man you could potentially fall in love with. His icy blue eyes were intense as they locked onto yours, his slightly damp hair sticking to his forehead.

One by one, your friends had left the hot tub, needing to get up early the next morning. And now, it was just the two of you, the air thick with unspoken tension. You couldn't help but admire his physique as water droplets cascaded down his collarbone, the muscles of his chest defined and chiseled. With each breath he took, his chest would rise and fall, his gaze practically devouring your body. His lips were a soft shade of pink, glistening with water and looking oh so tempting.

You sat next to him, feeling the warmth of his body beside you. He had his arm resting on your thigh, and you couldn't help but scoot closer to him. "You look good," he said, his eyes admiring your figure. It was the first time you had ever heard him compliment you sober, and it made your heart flutter.

His hand traced through your thighs under the warm water, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, his hand rode up to your bathing suit bottom, the two small bows on the side the only thing holding it together. You held your breath as his fingers grazed your skin, aching for his touch.

"You too," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off of him. The snow continued to fall outside, the weather dropping slightly, but you didn't care. The warmth between you and your husband made the cold disappear.

Suddenly, he grabbed the bottom of your bathing suit and pulled you on top of him. You straddled him, feeling his hard body against yours. He placed his long and veiny hands on your waist, giving it a small squeeze. "You packed a bathing suit?" he asked, his hands tracing up the sides of your hips.

Nodding, you let out a small "Mhm," placing your hand on his hair and began massaging his soft locks. You could feel the tension between you melting away as you gazed into each other's eyes. In that moment, nothing else mattered except for the two of you and the love you shared.

The hot tub bubbled, heat radiating off it. Stroking his hair back you gave him a slick back, revealing his full face to you. “I like you with this hairstyle,” You smiled slightly, his hands still on your waist. Pulling you closer you felt the tension between you, the same tension you felt at the market.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice low and husky. His fingers traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. The steam from the hot tub enveloped you, making the moment feel even more intimate.

"You know, I've always loved your hair," he whispered, his lips grazing against your ear. "It's so soft and silky."

You couldn't resist any longer. You closed the gap between your lips and his, the kiss starting out slow and gentle but quickly turning into a passionate embrace. Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, feeling the heat and desire building between you.

As the kiss deepened, you felt his hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer until you were sitting on his lap. You could feel his hard body against yours, the warmth and strength of it making you melt even more.

"I can't get enough of you," he murmured between kisses, his hands now roaming under your bathing suit. You let out a soft moan as his fingers traced over your skin, igniting a fire within you.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses as his hands continued to explore your body. You couldn't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him, wanting to feel every inch of his body against yours.

"God, you're intoxicating," he whispered, his lips now grazing over your collarbone. You let out a soft gasp as his hand slipped under your bathing suit bottoms, his fingers teasing and tantalizing you.

You couldn't deny the intense desire coursing through your body as he continued to touch and kiss you. Every touch, every kiss, sent shivers down your spine, driving you wild with need. "Please," you moaned, your voice filled with desperation.

He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "Impatient, are we?"

"No, just eager," you panted, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he trailed hot kisses down your stomach, his fingers still working their magic between your legs.

He chuckled again, his breath hot against your skin. "I love how you can't get enough of me," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire.

You couldn't help but moan as he moved his lips back up to yours, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated kiss. The hot water of the tub only added to the intensity as your bodies pressed together, the heat and steam fogging up the surrounding windows. "I want you," you gasped, your body arching into his touch.

He grinned, the dim light from the candles casting a seductive glow on his face. "You have me," he growled, before claiming your lips once again.

Despite the risk of getting caught, the thrill of being fingered by your husband while your friends were fast asleep in the cabin was too exciting to pass up. Satoru's long, slick fingers expertly pumped in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You bit your lip to muffle your moans, trying to stay quiet so as not to wake your sleeping friends. But your husband enjoyed seeing you struggle and squirm under his touch, relishing in the control he had over your pleasure.

As his fingers curled inside of you, hitting all the right spots, you couldn't help but place your chin on his chest and wrap your arms around his neck, giving in to the pleasure. "Fuck, Toru," you moaned, feeling his hardened cock pressing against your pussy through his boxers.

He groaned in response, encouraging you to grind against him even more. As you moved your hips, rubbing against his swim shorts, he continued to finger you faster and faster, his thumb swirling over your sensitive clit. The combination of his skilled fingers and your own movements had you on the verge of ecstasy.

But as much as you wanted to have sex with your husband right then and there, the thought of your friends potentially catching you in the act made you hesitate. You bit your lip once again, trying to hold back your moans as his long fingers continued to work wonders inside of you.

As you felt yourself on the brink of orgasm, your body started to twitch and your husband noticed, sensing that you were close. He smirked and removed his long and slick fingers from you, earning a loud gasp from your lips.

You looked up at him, confused by his actions, but he just smiled and said, "We should go to sleep. We have to wake up early in the morning." Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he got up from the hot tub and headed inside, leaving you alone in the warm water, your mind still reeling from the unexpected interruption. As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but admire the outline of his hard dick through the wet fabric of his swim trunks.

He grabbed one of the towels from outside and disappeared into the house, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded and wanting more, but also feeling a sense of disappointment that the moment had ended.

Your anxiety was palpable, causing you to tap nervously on the side of the chair as you waited for your friend Shoko to come back.

Your heart was beating faster than ever, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. The first thing you did when you got home from the trip was schedule an appointment with your friend, who happened to be an endocrinologist. You needed answers, and you needed them now.

Staring at the floor, you could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. The smell of bleach and alcohol filled your nose, causing your nostrils to flare. Satoru had told you earlier that day that he would unfortunately not be able to come with you to your appointment. Despite everything that had happened at the cabin, he was still the same. Acting as if nothing had ever happened that day, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your body felt tense, it felt like hours had passed since they had drawn your blood and taken it to the lab for testing. The anticipation and unknown of whether or not you would be able to have a child weighed heavily on you. As you sat in the sterile doctor's office, nostalgia hit you like a ton of bricks. You couldn't help but remember the last time you were in this position, but it was with Toji.

After this, you were going to head to Satoru's work, hopefully to deliver him the good news. Biting your lip anxiously, you stood up and paced back and forth in your apartment, your feet making a small tap noise with each step you took. Turning to look at the clock, it felt as if seconds had turned into hours. You were anxiously waiting for Ieri to come back and tell you your results.

But as the time ticked by, doubts started creeping into your mind. What if you weren't infertile? Would things go back to how they were and Satoru would just constantly ignore you? And if you were infertile, would Satoru divorce you and leave you? Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn't want him to leave.

You hated that you were starting to fall for him. His warmth in the morning and that stupid smile of his were starting to grow on you. The thought of not being able to carry his child made your heart ache. You wanted to be a mother, and a damn good one at that.

Ieiri walked into the room, her posture straight and her face expressionless. As she approached, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. You knew that this was the moment you would find out if you were infertile or not.

"Okay, we got the lab's results back," she said, her tone professional and matter-of-fact. Flipping through the documents in her hand, the sound of paper crunching filled the tense silence in the room. You couldn't help but feel impatient, desperate to know the verdict. Could you have children of your own or not?

Finally, she looked up at you with a look of sympathy in her eyes. You knew what that look meant. Your heart sank as she avoided your gaze and closed the document. "Y/N, I'm sorry to say that your chances of having a child are quite low," she said, her voice gentle but tinged with sadness. She grabbed a chair and placed it in front of you, hesitating for a moment before sitting down.

You felt a lump form in your throat as the reality of your situation hit you. You had always dreamed of having children of your own, but now that dream seemed even further out of reach.

"So you're saying I can't get pregnant?" Your heart shattered into a million pieces, your dreams of starting a family with your partner, Satoru, fading away. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Ieiri sighed, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. "It's going to be hard for you to conceive. It's practically impossible for you to get pregnant."

Your vision blurred as you tried to hold back your tears. "But why? What's wrong with me?"

"It's a combination of factors, such as low ovulation and hormonal imbalances," She explained gently. "And even if you were to conceive, there would be a high risk of miscarriage."

Feeling devastated, you turned away from her and grabbed some tissues to wipe away your tears. "Is there anything I can do? Any treatments or options?"

She nodded, turning around to grab some papers. "Yes, here are some treatments that have been proven to help women like you who have a low chance of getting pregnant. I suggest you talk to Satoru about this, Y/n."

Grabbing the papers you took them into your hands, tears falling onto the paper. “Thank you Shoko,” You smiled wearily at her getting up and grabbing your things. “Just please and come and see me once you choose what to do okay? I can help you Y/N.” Smiling you thanked her before walking out of the room.

The sobs wracked through your body, causing you to double over in pain. Your hands trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your heart breaking. You had known this day would come, but it didn't make it any easier. You had always dreamed of becoming a mother, of holding your own child in your arms and loving them with every fiber of your being. But now, as you sat alone in your car, you were reminded once again of the cruel reality that you could never have children.

The doctor's words echoed in your mind, a sentence that felt like a death sentence for your dreams of motherhood. You wiped the tears from your eyes and started the car with a small click, the engine roaring to life as you drove out of the medical center and towards your husband's workplace. As you drove, you couldn't help but imagine how different your life would have been if you could have had a child.

The weight of the world seemed to crush you as you sat alone in your empty room, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't believe it - first, your arranged marriage fell apart, and now this. You had been trying for years to have a child, and just when you thought it might finally happen, you received the devastating news that you would never be able to conceive. The pain was unbearable, and you could feel your heart shattering into a million pieces.

All the hopes and dreams you had for a family of your own were now gone, replaced by a deep sense of loss and emptiness. The thought of never being able to experience the joy of motherhood, to hold your own child in your arms, was too much to bear. You let out a gut-wrenching sob, feeling the weight of your sadness and disappointment overwhelm you.

You had held onto that last ounce of belief, that glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to conceive. But now, that belief was shattered, leaving you with nothing but pain and despair. The future that you had envisioned for yourself was now gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart.

As you cried, you couldn't help but feel like your life was falling apart. Everything you had ever wanted seemed to slip through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but an overwhelming sense of grief and loneliness. It was a pain that words couldn't describe, and you wondered how you would ever be able to move on from this devastating blow.

In that moment, it felt like your world had collapsed onto you, barely hanging on by a thread. You were drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to find a way out. All you could do was let out your tears, hoping that somehow, the weight of your pain would lessen. But deep down, you knew that this pain would never truly go away - it would always be a part of you, a constant reminder of the dream that would never come true.

You quickly made your way to the building, hastily parking your car and slamming the door shut. With shaking hands, you pressed the car door keys, locking your vehicle before walking towards the front of the building. As you approached the entrance, one of the workers made eye contact with you and smiled, "Hello, how may I help you?" She tried her best not to notice your puffy red eyes and the tears streaming down your face.

"I'm here to see Satoru, my husband," you managed to say, your voice trembling with emotion. The worker's eyes widened immediately, and she apologized for not recognizing you instantly, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Gojou, but he's currently not accepting any visitors right now."

"I'm his goddamn wife!" you yelled, feeling a mixture of anger and desperation. You stormed inside, determined to find his office which was just around the corner. As you turned the corner, you saw that the blinds were closed and you couldn't see anything at all. Your heart sank as you realized that he was purposely avoiding you.

Frustrated and hurt, you banged on the door, "Satoru, open the damn door!" You could hear muffled voices from inside, and your heart clenched at the thought of him being with someone else.

Hesitating for a slight moment, you grabbed the doorknob and opened the lavish glass door, covered in blinds. Your eyes scanned the room, immediately spotting your husband. Your mouth fell open as you saw him ramming his dick inside Jiyuu, who was bent over his office table.

Quickly closing your mouth, you cleared your throat, trying to maintain composure. Your husband's eyes widened in shock as he saw you. "Jesus Christ, Y/N!" Jiyuu screamed, frantically trying to cover up her naked body.

You remained stoic, walking up to Satoru and throwing a stack of papers at him. "I'm infertile, Satoru," you stated coldly, glaring at him. He scrambled to put his pants back on, his bare chest exposed and his eyes filled with guilt.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, from anger to sadness to betrayal. You couldn't believe that your husband had lied to you and chosen to spend time with his ex lover instead of going to your endocrinologist appointment with you. The pain in your heart was unbearable, and you felt like you couldn't even trust the person you had vowed to spend the rest of your life with.

You walked out of the office, slamming the glass door in a fit of rage and not caring if you damaged it. As you walked away, you couldn't help but think that maybe dying would be easier than facing the pain and betrayal that you were experiencing.

Satoru ran out moments later, his hair a mess and his shirt barely buttoned up. He looked genuinely guilty for a split second until he saw your face. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I didn't think you were coming," he said, staring at your eyes. He didn't even bother to spare a glance at his lover who had creeped up behind him.

You dryly laughed at him. "I'm stupid, Satoru. I genuinely thought we were bonding at the cabin, but now I realize everything was a lie," you said, turning your gaze to Jiyuu. Her hair was a mess and her makeup was smudged everywhere.

"And I quite literally don't care if you have sex with her or not, Satoru. She's the woman you love, not me," you continued, pushing past him and shoving your shoulder into his chest. As you passed by him, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

"Y/N," he opened his mouth, about to respond, but then noticed Jiyuu's sharp glare directed at him. He quickly closed his mouth and nodded, understanding that he should keep his thoughts to himself. "I'll see you at the house," he said as you turned to leave

You nodded and walked passed him. Despite your initial feelings of anger and betrayal, you couldn't help but understand why Satoru did what he did. He was in love with Jiyuu, and it was clear that he would never have feelings for you. The memories of the cabin trip that once brought you joy now felt like a facade, filled with actions and words that were all based on lies.

Your head began to ache as you tried to make sense of everything that had happened. You couldn't help but feel foolish for ever believing that Satoru could see you in a romantic way.

But deep down, you also knew that you couldn't stay mad at Satoru forever. After all, he was just following his heart, even if it meant breaking yours in the process. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself that everything happens for a reason, and that this would only make you stronger in the end.

taglist; @allofffmypeaches @shycreatorsandwich @ryumurin @cloudsinthecosmos @4-everm-0-re @kurookinnie @bluebreadenthusiast @haurno @fouyumixuri @numblytemporary @spin-garden @oyaoya-bungeegum @we-loveebony @katteddie86 @mine-lu @rosso-seta @sunehry @lavender-hvze @ioveartfilm @kneesheee @chilichopsticks @muchlov3ashley @mystarlightswiftt @actualdeemon @hojoslutoru @polarbvnny @getoicious @bennysbunnies @attaziante @h0neysiba @cyzvx @ropickle @tqd4455 @lineelilii @hypernovaxx @mo0nforme @liannele9 @erencvlt

[gojosbf]

"Give me back my boyfriend"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

[soyochii]

Quick doodles before I evaporate.

[yueebby]

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — — 

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing. 

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist. 

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated. 

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind. 

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point. 

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.” 

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — — 

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]?  getosugu  how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu  Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri  Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri  someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri  Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri  You disgust me sometimes getosugu  Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri  Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.” 

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.  

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — — 

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa. 

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked. 

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — — 

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you. 

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him. 

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up. 

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid. 

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — — 

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.” 

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you. 

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together. 

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper. 

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

[yuwuta]

satoru physically withers and crumbles every time you return his belongings. he doesn’t know how to tell you that he can only accidentally on purpose leave his glasses on your nightstand, or his jacket on your couch, or his shirt in your laundry so many times before he loses his mind. every time you don’t take he bait, he folds into himself and wonders why you don’t love him anymore and it costs him $22.50 to hear ieiri tell him to suck it up and use his words because he literally has to buy her company (and drinks).

but when you do take the bait, when you do wear his things, satoru thinks it’s all worth it. he can’t explain why it does what it does to him. it’s a sinister kind of possession he wants to have over you, knowing you’re your own person, free to do as you please, but also knowing you’re caged in him. it’s a lovesick kind of gooeyness that melts his heart seeing you fumble with the sleeves of a sweater that’s too long for you. it’s the vision of you seeing you drowning in him—in his clothes, in his things, in him, in him, in him. he’s selfish, he wants to consume you in as many ways as possible, wants you to drown in him, would die happily knowing you were one tenth as enraptured by him as he is with you. he doesn’t know how or why or when you gained so much power over him, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want you to ever stop, so if he has to keep pretending to leave his clothes and bags and glasses around then so be it.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ask me to leave and i’ll stay forever ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.

word count; 10.8k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!

a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all

you’ve never seen satoru like this before.

head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.

it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.

he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.

”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”

unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”

satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.

you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters. 

but you’ve never seen him like this.

(and it makes you terribly anxious.)

”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”

you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind. 

he looks so small.

this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.

you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.

a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis. 

and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.

my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?

give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3

moron.

he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.

moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.

and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick. 

but he just won’t listen.

”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”

”satoru.”

there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality. 

and it makes him quiet down.

(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)

as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.

but most of all, you’re worried.

”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”

”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness. 

but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.

so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby. 

for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him. 

so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.

but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.

you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.

stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.

satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.

so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.

satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.

(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)

he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.

and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.

it doesn’t feel like satoru at all. 

his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.

there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could. 

something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.

it only makes you worry more.

luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.

you just want to give some of it back.

satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face. 

that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.

but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little. 

still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it. 

all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.

(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.) 

and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.

but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.

two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts. 

you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.

it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.

”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.” 

your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.

but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.

”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”

”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens. 

“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”

but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.

”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”

”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.” 

a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.

satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.

gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”

there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.

but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.

”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”

another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck. 

he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.

so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.

”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?” 

a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response. 

when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”

this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever. 

your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second. 

”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.

to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.  

his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.

”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”

using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.

”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”

he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure. 

”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”

once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.

”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”

silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue. 

satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.

he wants to be good for you, though.

so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”

the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much. 

”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”

”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry. 

”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”

he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips. 

”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”

as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.

(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)

the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around. 

yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state. 

satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.

”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”

”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”

for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words? 

as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.

and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.

you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.

”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”

satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.

”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face. and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.

”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting, even for a second. ”… satoru.”

he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore. 

he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”

they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time. 

but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. a memory of a certain boy, of better times. 

(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)

you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”

a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, you seem to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.

the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in. 

”what did i do to deserve you…?”

you blink. a moment passes.

then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.

you give him a chuckle of your own, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.

”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more. 

it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly. 

”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”

and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his. 

so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.

needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking you for it himself?

you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further. 

you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms. 

you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days. 

before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.

stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.

when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.

it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.

still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.

”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”

a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep. 

”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”

”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”

you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”

”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.

”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”

another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.

”it’s only four, satoru.”

”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”

”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”

”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”

his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand. 

it’s significantly less scalding, now. 

you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”

satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”

”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”

”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”

”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”

”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”

”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”

”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”

a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”

satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.

”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”

another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”

”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”

”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”

”hehe.”

a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.

”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”

you blink. once, then twice.

”… satoru.”

”yeah? what’s up?”

you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”

this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.

”huh? why not?”

”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”

”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”

you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”

”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”

”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”

”but —”

”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”

”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”

you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.

”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”

”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”

you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”

”your baby.”

another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.

“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”

satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.

but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.

(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)

so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation. 

”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”

”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”

”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”

a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”

satoru is silent, for a while.

”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”

”haah. okay, good —”

”however!” 

you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”

you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.” 

leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious. 

a tilt of your head. 

”… but you’re sick.”

”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”

another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.

”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”

in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.

but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?” 

”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days. 

”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”

you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy. 

”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”

satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!” 

his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”

”i’m not!”

”you couldn’t even taste it.”

”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”

you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff, trying to appear unbothered. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”

satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.

”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”

you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe. 

as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”

after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.

”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”

”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.” 

you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”

”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”

”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”

”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?” 

“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”

sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. but you’re not falling for it this time. 

when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.

satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.

you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.

so you opt to indulge him.

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”

you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”

”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”

with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.

”you’re good.”

”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”

”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”

he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.

”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.” 

”you sure?”

”a hundred percent.”

”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”

”of course.”

”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.

”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.” 

satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.

”your room is very like you.”

it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.

”… oh? how so?”

“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”

satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk. 

”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”

he closes his eyes.

there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.

you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.

”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”

a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”

and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”

he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.

”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”

the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.

you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.

you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.

”… you can.”

he blinks. still smiling.

”stay forever, i mean.”

you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.

this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.

”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”

you reach something. 

you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —

a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.

(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)

…

satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”

”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”

he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.

satoru doesn’t get sick often.

his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.

it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.

but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.

yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick. 

yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.

you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?

”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.

”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.

”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”

for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.

”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest. 

”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”

satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be. 

even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today. 

if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.

living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually. 

the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.

you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.

maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.

[delzinrowe]

incorrect jjk quotes [8/?]

[suguru-getos]

I just miss his potty mouth 😔

[garagepanic]

training days

[ttoya]

#i know he's fighting for his life rn... but he just looks so hot

[catsgut]

big bro gojo and his friend bulling you

WOAHHHHHHHHHHH

warnings : incest, bullying, nonconsensual pictures, spit hehe as always

ok honestly i feel like gojo would be meaner with his words whereas geto would be more discreet about it? i can see them both doing things like tripping you and yanking your hair, but they both have their own special ways of taunting you.

gojo loves seeing his baby sis get red in the face when he comments on your looks, telling you obviously he was the better looking sibling. he likes to make you feel ashamed of your own body, loving the way you hide it with baggy clothes. his harsh words cut deep, but his best friend’s sweet ones cut deeper.

geto has always been somewhat kind to you, making you feel funny between your legs when he compliments your hair. it caught you off guard the first time he put his foot out in front of you to watch you fall in front of everyone at school. he just stood there with a smile, offering a hand to help you up.

you didn’t know whether or not he was being serious, but you took his hand and stood. “your panties are showing,” he snickered gesturing to your skirt that was now tucked into the waistband of your underwear. how did that happen?

but what they both loved the most was fucking with you when you had no idea. gojo mostly enjoyed snapping pictures of you when you were bending over, showering, or sleeping on the couch. he would immediately send them to geto knowing they would both end up jerking off to them. geto on the other does things like spitting in your drink when you aren’t looking, smiling as he watches you gulp down his thick spit. he also likes to steal your panties, cumming on them and sending pictures to your brother.

[isolabellz]

the aftermath

[clemenlush]

babyyy im yours

[sutorus]

Hello! Can you do jjk men reaction when y/n said their safe word during sex? Only if you're not busy! Thank you! 😘

JJK MEN’S REACTIONS TO YOU USING YOUR SAFE WORD

FEATURED: gojo, geto, toji

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. fem reader, afab terms, use of safe word, descriptions of anxiety. please mind individual tws for each scene. proceed with caution and don’t read if it’ll make you feel bad! take care bbs

A/N: my first request i hate it but i hope you love it anon!!! 😊 also sorry i couldn’t do nanami or choso if i’m inspired another time i’ll add em to this LMAO

GOJO SATORU

warnings: reader is blindfolded and bound (wrists), use of safe word, unprotected sex, crying, descriptions of anxiety

you’ve done it a ton but it still makes you nervous. 

one sense is kind of a lot to lose when you only have five of them, as a non sorcerer. but the relinquishing of control, entrusting your safety and pleasure and entire body to someone else… it turns you on beyond belief. 

so here you are, tonight, blindfold tight over your eyes and hands bound behind your back as satoru fucks you, pace languid, fingers running all over your body. 

any other day, it would be just what you needed to relax. any other day you’d be squirming in pleasure, hips bucking wildly against him as your nails claw at your own palms. 

but today, for whatever reason, it’s uncomfortable. maybe you’ve had too much caffeine, maybe it’s the stress of his most recent mission, the first one to ever have you worrying your lip all night long thinking, maybe he’s not coming back this time. 

his wandering hands feel foreign, the pleasured moans coming from his mouth sounding distant and wrong. your arms tingle from the position you’re in, your sweaty skin itches and you can’t reach to scratch at it. 

you furrow your brows. 

“satoru…” you whine softly, still unsure of what to ask for. 

“mmm?,” he grips your waist, his strokes deep and precise. “my pretty baby looks so good like this. so mine.”

you whine, wriggling in search for comfort. satoru must mistake that for pleasure because he fucks you just a little bit harder, puffing out hot breaths into the crook of your neck. 

“kiss me,” you ask, hoping it’ll make it better, but it does nothing to calm you down. with no stimuli but touch, your brain starts to go into overdrive, and you feel tears begin to trickle down your face.

satoru notices, but not in the right way. 

“is it that good?” he teases, like he always does, but today it sends a chill down your spine. “i could do anything i wanted to you right now and you wouldn’t even know. wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

that does it for you, a wrecked sob leaving your lips along with your safe word. 

satoru stills immediately. you can feel him softening inside you and for some reason that only makes you cry harder. 

gently, he reaches behind your head to unhook the blindfold, his worried gaze searching your face for answers. 

he lifts your back and unties your wrists, rubbing them to soothe the friction from the ropes. 

“baby…” his tone is careful and guilty. “sweetheart, is everything okay? did i do something, what did i do?”

you sniff. the first words that come out of your mouth are, “i’m sorry.”

you’ve never had him so doting, so tense, all that confidence vanishing and it makes you chuckle, this big lanky man handling every limb of yours like they’re made out of snowflakes. 

“satoru, i’m okay. i just…” you inhale deeply. “i just got overwhelmed, is all.”

he lays down beside you, visibly unsure about touching you. you grip his hand firmly in yours, offering him a wavering smile. 

“i’m okay, i promise. you’re good,” you lean over to peck his lips.

satoru looks regretful, but he relaxes at the gesture, caressing the side of your face softly. 

“i love you so much. i’m sorry if i, like, went too far or something—“

“you did nothing wrong,” you assure him. “i think i’m just having a bad day. just wanted to see your face to feel better.”

at that, he smirks. he kisses you slowly, adoringly, unspoken apologies every time your lips touch. 

“i am sorry, by the way,” you say. satoru looks back at you with a confused expression on his face. you continue sheepishly, “for having to use the word.”

“huh?” he exclaims, his incredulity so earnest that it rips a hearty laugh from you. “nah, hell no. thank you for saying it, actually.”

“yeah? you’re not upset?”

“of course not. i completely understand,” he traces a line down your body. “not being able to see my handsome face would make anyone cry.”

you slap his hand away playfully and he pulls you into his chest, cuddling you.

you stay like that until you fall asleep, reassured that the most powerful sorcerer in the world is indeed fit to take care of you; heart, body and soul. 

GETO SUGURU

warnings: overstim, degradation/humiliation and dirty talk, use of safe word, reader’s discomfort is brief but descriptive

you don’t know how long it’s been. 

maybe ten minutes. maybe twenty. maybe ninety. 

you don’t know how many times you came. 

your entire body is covered in sweat, the top of your thighs and the bottom of your ass soaked in your own arousal. 

suguru holds the wand to your clit almost disinterestedly, eyes glazed over and locked on your cunt. 

he fucking loves it, making you cum over and over again, thrash against his body, make a mess on his sheets. and you love it just the same. 

the undivided attention, the devotion, the seconds right after when the stimulation doesn’t stop and it hurts so bad before it gets mind-numbingly good again. 

“hahh,” you breathe out, voice cracking. “i—i’m gonna—“

“oh, you’re gonna?” suguru mocks you. “shocking.”

you moan at his words, his tone. by now, your body barely has any energy left to react. all you can feel is the release of an unbelievable pressure in your core as wetness gushes out of you uncontrollably when you cum. 

your puffy clit is throbbing, thoroughly abused, your spread legs quivering in pleasure. you sigh in anticipatory relief at the incoming break suguru is bound to give you after your orgasm. 

except this time, the break doesn’t come. 

“ahh!” you scream — honest to god yell — as the buzzing continues, suguru pressing the wand down hard on your pussy. 

he chuckles, playing with the toy, lifting it up just slightly before bringing it back down on you, over and over again. 

“can’t—i can’t, suguru, i can’t cum right now—“

“of course you can, baby,” he says in a sickeningly sweet voice, getting off on your desperation. 

usually you’re just as much into it as he is, but this time it’s for real. it’s painful and not in the nice way, you’ve hit your limit but you can hardly talk, can’t do much more than try to wiggle away from your boyfriend’s ministrations. 

“how can you say that when you have such a slutty pussy?” he runs his fingers through your slick folds, and every clench of your cunt makes it hurt even more. “so greedy…”

you’re clawing at his hands, but he’s so much stronger than you, his forearms and thighs holding you down, leaving you entirely to his mercy — of which he has none. 

“please please fuck please no more—“

it’s something he’s heard you say a thousand times, in a thousand different scenarios, and never truly mean it, which is why you even have a safe word in the first place. 

oh right. the safe word. 

you pull it out from the depths of your fucked out, mushed up brain and blurt it, digging your heels into the mattress. 

it all happens so fast, after that.

suguru all but tosses the wand to the side, switching to lightly stroking your pussy. it makes you jolt; even a gush of air right now could probably make you cry in overstimulation. 

“oh fuck, shit,” he removes his hand and you whine. “what do you need baby, what can i do?”

“s-suguru…” you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs spasming erratically. 

“i’m here, i’m here,” suguru starts to move towards you but stops halfway. “do you want me to be here?”

you let out a croaky laugh, opening your arms because you’re too far gone to use words. 

hesitantly, he lays his head on your chest. when he feels how fast your heart is beating, his own sinks to his stomach. 

“i’m so sorry honey. i thought you were into it.”

you swallow, taking a few beats to regain your composure. 

“i was, it was just… a lot, all of a sudden.” 

suguru turns his head to look up at you. 

“i get it,” he wipes away a stray tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed. “i’m sorry. i love you, i'm so sorry—”

“it’s okay,” you offer him a weak smile. “it’s what the word is for, right?”

“right…” he sounds unsure. that makes you frown. 

you two lay there for a while, until your breathing has evened out, until your thighs have stopped shaking. 

you can practically hear the hear the cogs in his brain turning, certain that his brain chastising himself.

“hey, suguru?” your voice rips him right out of his thoughts.

“hmm?”

“can you promise me something?”

he sits up in attention, instinctively reaching for your hand. “of course.”

“promise me you’re never gonna stop fucking me like that," he gulps, audibly, visibly relaxing. "and i promise to always let you know if i need to stop.”

it takes a beat, but suguru finally loosens up, pressing his smile into your lips over and over again and mumbling all sorts of promises of his own against them.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

warnings: knifeplay, cnc (sort of), roleplaying, pretty graphic descriptions of anxiety and panic, oral (m! receiving)

“what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ here this late at night?”

you roll your eyes to yourself before putting on your best innocent look to turn around and face the man. 

he’s smirking down at you, the streetlight lamps casting dark shadows on his features. 

if you were being honest with yourself, you’d never really been interested in roleplaying in your previous relationships. it was always so awkward and you never truly felt any incentive to stick to the script no matter how much the scenario excited you. 

until you met toji, that is. 

he was always so into it, played his parts convincingly well, which should probably worry you considering he would always opt to play the sleazy delivery guy, the pervy doctor, the horny stranger in a bar. 

as for you, acting the part of the ditzy student or the clumsy maid or whatever the fuck toji wanted you to be that particular day… yeah, that was embarrassingly hot too. 

tonight, he’s playing creepy guy in a dark alleyway. he’d texted you in advance, a very romantic meet me in that alley between the tracks and the highway. dress slutty. 

“i was just looking for the station and got lost…” you mumble, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he pouts in a fake display of pity, twirling something inside his jacket pocket. 

“oh, what a coincidence! i was just on my way there. care to accompany me?”

you smile sweetly, linking arms with him. 

soon enough, you find yourself being shoved past toji’s apartment door, his pocketknife prodding at the small of your back. 

you have to contain your giggles to stay in character, letting him toss you onto his bed. you also have to fight your anger when he slashes through your top, a sleazy smile on his face as he breaks character to say he’ll get you a new one. 

he’s so goddamn hard that it should concern you, holding your jaw open while he feeds you his cock. 

“god—shit, that’s right, such a slutty little mouth,” you moan around his length, hands resting primly on top of your thighs. “you were just begging for it, weren’t you, slut?”

you bob your head up and down, putting on a fake grimace while squeezing your legs together at the same time. 

you hear something click in the distance, the sound barely registering in your brain as you get lost in the scent of him. he’s beginning to push into your throat now, laughing like a maniac when you choke on it. 

“c’mon now, open up that throat for me, girl,” you inhale in preparation. but your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel something cold and sharp poke you. “or maybe i’ll just to do it for ya with this.”

toji’s pressing his switchblade to your neck, grazing it delicately up and down. 

he’s not going to hurt you. you know that.

the blade is probably too dull to pierce skin even if he tried, but he would never, you know this, you know he won’t. 

and yet despite that, your heart is jackhammering in your ribcage, uncontrolled and wild as your eyes widen around tears. 

toji takes your inaction as a sign to just start fucking your mouth a little more, but your attention is zeroed in on that pocketknife. 

suddenly colors are sharper, like it’s bright as day inside his dimly lit bedroom. a headache begins to bloom and you start choking in earnest now, not because toji’s going too hard but because you can’t coordinate your breaths. 

he starts tracing your throat with the blade. “feel me right here sweetheart? fuck.”

you’re clearly struggling but it’s hard to distinguish your real reactions to the character you’re supposed to be playing. that only serves to make you panic even further, hands coming up to push on toji’s thighs. 

“hands to yourself, whore,” he grunts, pressing the knife a little too hard, a little too close for comfort, and you hit your breaking point.

you start garbling wildly around his dick, repeating your safe word over and over again until a very confused toji finally makes out what you’re saying. 

he rips himself out of your mouth, instantly dropping to his knees and grabbing your chin in his hand. 

“oh fuck, did i cut ya sweetheart?” he moves your face from side to side, examining you. 

you swallow around the lump in your throat, willing your heart to calm down. 

“uh, n-no. just got a bit too real there, for a moment.”

he sighs, partially relieved, reassessing the situation. you’re gulping in air, blowing it out of your mouth in calculated puffs. 

toji waits until you're visibly calmer before he gets up. 

“wait here,” he orders. 

you sit down on the floor, hands wrapped around your knees and mentally repeating to yourself that you’re okay, it wasn’t real, you’re not in danger. 

toji returns with a glass of water, sitting down in front of you and waiting until you’ve drank most of it. 

“you okay?” he asks. 

you take a beat before you can honestly say you are. you nod. 

“that knife on your throat was a bit too far, huh, babe?”

“yeah,” you garble out, tracing circles on his knees. “could’ve warned me of that particular detail. asshole.”

he laughs but his body language isn't nearly as carefree. 

there’s a long drag of silence before he speaks again. 

“i’m sorry, honey. really.”

and toji, as amazing as he can be, is usually way too prideful to admit guilt. so the fact that he apologizes is what finally gets you to fully relax, knowing he does realize the situation you were in and feels bad about it. 

“honestly we can stop with all the roleplaying bullshit, it’s getting kinda old anyways. you know i don't need you playing a slut to get you acting like one on my co—“

“toji,” you hiss, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. “it’s fine. i think i have a better idea, anyway.”

that seems to spark his interest. he rises his eyebrows, prompting you to go on. 

“because there’s a few roleplays we haven’t tried yet. and if you genuinely feel so bad—“ he says your name sternly but just you ignore him, “then i know the perfect thing you can do to make it up to me.”

“babe…” he bemoans like a chastised child, with a hint of resignation at what awaits him. 

when he sees that you’re beaming he just takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“when?” is all he asks. 

impossibly, your smile grows even wider. 

“i already ordered the costume! and the cat ears should be here next week,” you kiss his forehead, propping yourself on his shoulders to stand up. 

you hear him groan in the distance as you skip to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. 

he stalks after you almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist and honest to god pouting at you in the mirror. 

“are ya really going to do this to me now?”

you grin. 

“don’t you mean meow, kitty?”

a/n: yayyy my first somewhat wholesome post i am so bad at this but i hope it was readable! bye now!

[edmeom]

jjk memes pt.13

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

[chiwhorei]

Gojo being a perv 🤭 stealing and smelling his little girls panties, watching her shower, taking pics under her skirt when she’s bent over for too long, him dry humping her when she’s sleep in nothing but panties leaving a stain on it 😩

PANTY STEALING DADDY GOJOOOOOOOO(ФоФ) TW INCEST!!!!

*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚ *  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚*  ੈ✩‧₊˚

He’s unabashed, he gives zero fucks about people knowing how obsessed he is with his daughter. He’s got an up-skirt picture of your pussy as his lock screen. He likes looking down at it when he’s in boring meetings, gently tracing the image of you plush lips pressed against the cotton of your panties.

If he notices someone stealing a glance at his phone for a beat too long, he’ll come home pissy and punish you for getting another man’s cock hard.

“Stupid little slut,” His voice harsh and low, only escaping between gritted teeth, “maybe I’ll bring you into the office with me some time, show everyone who this pussy belongs to.”