One Piece x Reader

Sukuna found himself in another’s body in his mid-twenties, awakening one morning in complete darkness, even though he’d been certain his eyes were open. It was a strange feeling at first, a resignation to a suspicion he’d held all his life that there was no destined person for him, giving in to the belief that he’d spend a day floating in nothingness with no other half for his soul to cling to.

His assumption was broken swiftly, at the realisation that he still held some manner of awareness even if his sight was impaired. There was a breeze blowing against his body, chatter sounding off in the distance, and soft sheets were pressing up against skin which surely wasn’t his.

This person, whoever they were, had a body that was exhausted. He ached in places he’d never ached before, his shoulders and upper back straining, like their owner had been carrying a weight beyond their capability. He felt desperately weak in that form, suddenly aware that he only had a human number of limbs to control, and lacked the strength and size he was used to commanding.

In the darkness clouding his vision, he was surprised to find that the blackness wasn’t as deep as he’d originally thought, able to make out fuzzy shapes in the dark which he could only assume made up his surroundings. His hand reached for his eyes, setting his lips into a grim line at the confirmation they were open.

His destined lover was blind.

Disappointment settled into his chest. He had never taken much stock in soulmates in the first place, didn’t really believe in love, but this just furthered his confirmation that the whole matter was a farce. He found respect for the strong - strength was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and yet here he was, in the body of a blind woman.

A feeble little thing hardly able to fend for herself.

What good was she to a man like Sukuna?

A knock on the door startled him. “Are you awake? The madam wants me to help you get ready.”

Sukuna said nothing, trying to figure out why it felt like your body wanted to draw in on itself, your pulse quicking in a seemingly innate reaction to the voice at the door.

“Please, I know you’ve been ill but he’s been calling every day for the past week, the madam doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer. He’s been bringing forth all manner of threat, and if you’re not careful he’ll buy you out. I know that isn’t what you want. Just let me tend to you and allow him a visit. Keep his temper at bay.”

Sukuna frowned, attempting to piece together what was happening. It was hard without the visual clues of his surroundings, but based on the snippet of conversation he concluded that you were likely a courtesan of some form. Once again, his view of you, and the soulmate system in general, dropped through the floor.

Blind and a whore.

Perfect.

“One moment.” He called out, taken aback by the lovely feminine voice that fell from his lips. It was a soft, delicate sound, one which wouldn’t sound out of place accompanied with a harp. He found himself shocked at how much he enjoyed it, considering saying something else just to hear it again.

Finding the door proved to be a more difficult task than he’d been expecting. He’d already stumbled standing up from your bed, thrown off by his lack of vision and by feet that were ridiculously small compared to what he was used to. His centre of gravity felt all wrong, and his body felt generally unbalanced without his lower set of arms.

Moving at a snail's pace, he made it across the room, impressed that he didn’t run into anything on his journey over. He was grateful for the shadowy outlines present in your visionless gaze, certain that the situation would be made harder without even that as a guide.

Fumbling for the handle, he slid open the door. “Morning. Oh honey, you look like a ghost.” A hand pressed against his skin, and he was ushered over to another part of the room, grateful for the guidance. There was the sound of a chair being moved. “Take a seat.”

Sukuna hesitated, not quite sure where the chair was. He reached out nonchalantly with his hand, trying to feel for it while the other woman’s focus was elsewhere, seemingly rifling through a bag of something. Able to just about make out a black splodge in the centre of his vision, Sukuna took a seat, only to thud down onto the floor.

It hurt. It hurt significantly more than pain Sukuna was used to enduring. He’d experienced all manner of injury - he’d had his blood and guts pouring out onto the floor in the midst of a fight, but somehow this was worse. How fragile was this body of yours? He was glad that he wasn’t born as some weak human, grateful that the abominable aspects of his body increased his strength rather than weakened it.

How could you live like this?

“My lady?” The woman seemed immediately panicked, reaching down and easily hoisting you up by the arm, aiding Sukuna onto the chair. “I’m sorry, you usually tell me you don’t need assistance, I wasn’t expecting-” she cut herself off for a moment, leaving Sukuna in silence and struggling to read the room with no visual cues. “You don’t seem like yourself at all this morning. You’re being very quiet.”

Sukuna said nothing, certain that he could hear the hint of a smile in the woman’s tone.

It was said that when soulmates swapped bodies, you could not under any circumstance tell someone that you were a different inhabitant to usual, else the spell would be broken and you’d both be immediately sent home.

It was an option Sukuna had contemplated the moment the woman walked in, eager to return to his own healthy form. However, he was also a man of great curiosity and it wasn’t like he had much going on at his estate that day anyway. So he opted for silence, figuring he’d at least see, or hear, how the day played out.

There was no harm in that.

Regardless, the woman had seemingly sensed it immediately based on her sudden change of demeanor, but being likely as aware of the rules as Sukuna was, she kept her suspicions silent.

“It's Officer Sugawara who’s set to see you today,” she explained, soft hands running through your hair with a comb, giving Sukuna a shiver of pleasure. “You usually play shogi with the guy for a while and let him get drunk. He’s a proud man who’s desperate for a legitimate win, so you always give him your best and he refuses to give up until he’s too pissed to think anymore. So be on your best game, or he might want to pass his time in another way.”

The warning was clear and Sukuna found himself disgusted. If that man tried to lay a single hand on you while he was inhabiting your body, he’d make sure Sugawara wouldn’t walk out of the establishment alive.

Fortunately, Sukuna was an avid shogi player. He held a great love for the game and was self-assured where his skill was concerned. No one in his estate could beat him, so he was certain he could beat some Officer of the Shogun.

Although, he’d never played it blind - a fact that mildly concerned him.

He hoped the pieces were skillfully made with deep indents, else he’d be completely lost.

“Even though you’re usually talkative with me, you’re not all that chatty with regulars, so it’ll be fine if you stay quiet. On account of you not feeling yourself and all,” she said with a knowing giggle.

It took an ungodly amount of time for that woman to get you ready, and Sukuna wondered how you could bear experiencing such a thing day after day. It seemed such a waste to have so much effort devoted to doing your hair and make-up, and dressing you up, when you couldn’t even see the end result.

For all you knew you could look like a clown.

But Sukuna quickly became certain that wasn’t the case when he was led into another room, your helper grasping his arm in a steadying manner and making sure he was settled down on a pillow before introducing him to a man sitting opposite him. Sugawara wasted no time with greetings, letting out a gasp of awe at your radiant appearance and reaching out to kiss your hand.

Sukuna wanted to reel away at the feeling but remained still all the same. He hoped he didn’t have too much of a scowl on his face.

Even if he didn’t have any interest in you, he didn’t really want to ruin the life of some random blind girl. He loved cruelty, but even for him that felt like an unnecessary slight to a person who was supposed to hold the other half of his heart.

“You look gorgeous. Not sickly at all, might I add. I hope the madam hasn’t been telling lies.”

You were sick - outside of the blindness - Sukuna could feel it. At first he’d brushed off your frailty as something normal for puny little humans, but since rising from your bed he’d become aware that your quivering legs, aching bones and hummingbird heart were far from normal.

“I haven’t been well,” he said simply.

“Oh you poor thing, it's always the most beautiful ones who suffer the most.”

Sukuna found himself wondering what you looked like. He had a vague knowledge of Official Sugawara - he wasn’t an ugly man, certainly not one lacking in prospects by any means. He was powerful in his position in the government, and wasn’t the type who would visit some woman out of pity.

You must’ve been genuinely gorgeous to earn such affection from him.

It was a shame Sukuna would never know.

He wouldn’t look for you once he was back in his own body. He’d move on with his life and that would be that, leaving this day as nothing more than some distant dream.

The games of shogi went by quickly, and Sukuna found that it was easy to slip into your body without arousing suspicion. Once he’d gotten over the original barrier of having to feel each piece for their indents as he picked them up, he fell easily into the flow of it all.

This man across from him seeked little conversation once the games had started, and Sukuna was pleased at how well he was playing that afternoon. He didn’t let the man win once and, as your attendant had mentioned, Suguwara filled himself up with more and more drink. It felt nice to play someone outside of his estate, most of his servants were too afraid to face Sukuna in any sort of test.

It was equally nice to completely destroy a government official with his skill. He was certain this man was having the worst game of his entire life, unaccustomed to this treatment from the lovely courtesan he’d frequent.

But it was at the end of the seventh game, when Sukuna was feeling at his highest, that a disastrous hit would come to his ego.

“You’re really off your game today. I see you really aren’t feeling well,” Sugawara said. There was the sound of shuffling fabric, as if the man had leant forward.

“What?” Sukuna asked, the low disbelief coming out strange in your small voice.

“Your plays are much sloppier than usual. It feels like you’re going easy on me, given you usually destroy me before I can even think about what to do next. Today you’ve been giving me proper games. I don’t like it. You know I hate being pitied.”

Sukuna had to stop his mouth from falling agape.

He wasn’t playing bad games by any means, on the contrary, he was certain that he was playing better than he had in a while, happy to have a new opponent for once. Was this man really saying that you, the normal you, was more skilled at shogi than he was? He really found that hard to believe.

What would some blind courtesan know of tactics?

“Perhaps you’ve simply improved,” Sukuna mumbled bitterly, unwilling to accept that your mastery was greater than his.

Sugawara laughed. “How polite of you, my dear. I can assure you that isn’t the case, and we both know it.” There was some shuffling, and Sukuna sensed that the man was climbing to his feet. It was frustrating to have such limited vision, and he was glad to know that he’d wake up the following day able to see the world once more - he couldn’t imagine living like that all the time. “I’ll leave you to rest. When I return in a few days you best have returned to form, or perhaps the nature of our meetings will need to change.”

A heavy hand rested on your shoulder, wet and clammy against the silk you were draped in. Sukuna wasn’t sure if the disgust was born from his own thoughts on the matter, or from an impulsive response from your body. From your attendant’s words it was clear that you would never sleep with the man, likely keeping your shogi skills sharp to ensure he never won.

Once he was gone, Sukuna sat there in silence, thinking on the man’s parting words.

Were you really so talented?

Part of him wanted to convince himself that he’d been playing worse than usual on account of not being able to see the board, making it difficult for him to think out moves in advance, taking more time than normal while he grazed the pieces with his fingers.

But deep in his soul he knew that wasn’t the case.

He’d played expertly, and still that man knew his opponent wasn’t the real you. All on account of how amateur Sukuna’s ability had seemed compared to yours.

And as his day drew to a close in your body, he realised that he had to know. He had to play you, had to see firsthand just how dramatically your skill exceeded his. He wouldn’t believe it until he’d seen it.

The soulmate thing didn’t matter.

But he needed to meet with you all the same.

Just to sate his interest. That was all.

—

Months had passed since the day you’d swapped with your soulmate. Since the morning you’d awoken to a world of light of colour you’d never seen before, and would never see again.

It was a day you’d never be able to forget - the image of the grand estate you’d awoken in seared permanently into your mind, just like the face of your soulmate who had stared back at you in a bronze mirror. You’d gazed upon his body for longer than you should admit to, wondering for a brief moment if you’d misunderstood how humans looked.

That thought didn’t remain for long. It took no expert to understand that the man you’d been paired with was something unique - the very four armed monster who had half of Japan living in fear.

And as such, you wished you could forget your experience in his body, wished you could see anything but his oddly charming face, because your promised beloved was a monster of the highest calibre. But with only one singular day of vision under your belt, what you’d seen wasn’t so easily displaced, and you found yourself thinking of him often with a longing that you knew to be wrong.

You had told no one of the experience, not even your handmaid, who had outright asked what your body swap experience had been like, what your soulmate had been like, claiming that whoever they were had presented themselves as rather reserved when possessing your body. You’d brushed her off with a shrug, claiming him to be some soldier and nothing more.

No one could know the truth. If they knew you to have any link to such a terrible man they might view you as an associate, and someone deserving of death for something you hadn’t asked for.

The workings of fate seemed strange to you. Was it not enough punishment to be born blind? Why would you also be paired with a monster who seemed to view the human race with general disdain? You were certain he cared little for love, his servant had made that clear when you were in his body, so any hopes of having a soulmate had been stolen from you as a result of this pairing.

Part of you wondered if a man so vile as him might even take things a step further and track you down to put an end to your life, insulted by fate to suggest that it could control him in any capacity. Perhaps he would be further insulted to be paired with someone so damaged rather than some untarnished beauty.

You’d always heard he held great hatred for weakness.

Even so, despite your fear and desire to conceal yourself from him, you couldn’t forget him, couldn’t stop the flicker of longing in your chest you were certain all people held for their destined lovers. Because while he was unquestionably a monster, with a throne of skulls you had witnessed through his very eyes, he also seemed to be more than that.

He was a man of great loneliness, living in grand halls with only a handful of servants for company - and all but one of them would scuttle out of the way when he approached. He seemed to hold a great love for art, with his estate packed with paintings and tapestries and great vases, all kept in pristine condition. For a cannibal, he seemed to take great pride in the cleanliness of his surroundings, in the neat nature of his gardens and springs.

Even in his own appearance, he seemed to take great care, for there was no denying him to be a handsome man even with his unique features. He had a voice to match that beauty, one that you could hardly peel from your mind any more than you could forget his image.

His body was hard to maneuver, too big and confusing to control his many hanging limbs. In a way, it felt akin to your blindness, something different to the way humans were built to be, leaving him to struggle with an issue that no one else could relate to. You wondered how it had been for him in childhood - if he’d felt as isolated and scared as you had to know that everyone else was normal in a way you’d never been.

You pitied him, even through all his sins. You felt you could understand at least a piece of him from a day buried within the confines of his skin.

But still, you would never reach for him - wouldn’t poke the bear even if you could understand why it might bite. You were certain that someone like him would be unwilling to hear you out, unwilling to love or reflect on how he became the way he was - he would swipe your head from your shoulders just like everyone else, and that would be that.

So you would stay away, keep your dreams of him locked deep within your chest, and accept that distance was for the best.

There was more to life than soulmates.

Unfortunately, that choice wasn’t yours alone to make.

The madame had knocked on your door early that morning, with the golden light of the sun only just starting to peek in through your window. Lately you’d been having longer lie-ins and taking less clients as the cold of winter gripped the region. Along with the blindness, you’d been born with a particularly feeble body as a result of complications with your mother during her pregnancy, ailments which were always worse for you in the colder months.

Your bones strained as you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, calling for the woman to enter. As much as you longed to slip back into your dream of red eyes peering back at you with fiery desire, you were still beholden to the will of your employer, even in your months of weakness.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” She asked, as she slipped in through the door. You felt her weight dip the bed as she took a seat beside you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Mornings are always the worst but I can manage once I’m up and about. Has Sugawara come calling again?” Most regulars were understanding enough of your condition, and those that weren’t would generally be chased off by the madame or unloaded onto another of the courtesans. Sugawara was one of the few that generally wouldn’t accept such treatment, with only eyes for you.

It didn’t matter too much since the man only ever wanted to play shogi, and that was manageable enough even on your worst days. It seemed that he had no intention of laying with you until he’d beat you in a game fair and square, claiming that if that ever happened he’d buy you out and take you home for he would’ve earned your heart.

That talk always made you uncomfortable, for you had little interest in the man, but you were more than certain he had no chance at ever defeating you at shogi, and could therefore never lay claim to you - assuming he kept his word.

“Not Sugawara…” There was hesitation in her voice. “We’ve received a request for our finest shogi player to be sent to the mayor’s home this evening. Apparently the other courtesan houses have received the same request.”

“I didn’t think the mayor cared much for shogi.”

Again, there was a moment of silence. “No, he doesn’t. A rather unwanted guest has taken up residence in his home, and this is the demand that has come of it.” Immediately your blood ran cold, thoughts drifting away from the madame’s continuing chatter to the red eyes that sat so prominently in the darkness of your mind.

There was no question in your mind as to who this guest was.

And to call for shogi players had you certain he was looking for you. Would he execute you when you walked into a room so clearly lacking in vision? Put an immediate end to the one person who could potentially stir his cold heart if fate were to be believed?

It seemed like the only reasonable explanation

The request to send another in your place died on the tip of your tongue as you once again tuned in to what the madame was saying. “...make sure you’re in top form, I’ve heard any who lose to him are immediately disposed of, but I’m sure that man will be no match for you.”

You wouldn’t send another to face their death. You were the only courtesan in the house who was any good at shogi, anyone else would certainly perish. This was a meeting dictated by fate and you had no opportunity to run from it. You would face him head on and deal with your death graciously, greet your end alone in the dark just like everything else you’d ever faced.

“I’ll do my best,” you said to the madame, and that was the final moment you had for yourself, your sacrifice sealed by your words.

The rest of the morning was spent in a frenzied rush, dressing you up and perfecting your makeup, turning you into a sparkling beauty ahead of your presentation to a monster. Based on the quiet nature of your handmaid, the experience felt more like she was dressing your corpse for burial.

Neither of you spoke such a thing aloud, but tears dripped from sightless eyes all the same when she led you out to the carriage, the madam trailing behind her, sending you off with a soft farewell filled with a sense of finality.

—

Sukuna had undergone an annoying few months.

Steadily, he had made his way, region by region, up to the north of Japan in search of a blind shogi player whose skill allegedly eclipsed his own. In each area, he would call upon all shogi-playing courtesans to meet with him and join him in a game, in the hopes that one day it would be you sitting across from him.

So far, he’d been unsuccessful, and had left a growing pile of bodies and burnt villages in his wake, utterly irritated that the thing he was seeking still evaded his grasp. No one had beaten him. A few had come close but none of them had been blind, so he could be certain that they weren’t you.

He was beginning to wonder if you’d gone into hiding somewhere, forsaking your courtesan life entirely in a bid to avoid him. It wouldn’t surprise him - you’d been in his body, you’d seen he was a monster, a fragile little thing like you was probably terrified at the idea of ever crossing his path.

Either way, he’d still persevere. He’d kill every shogi player if that was what it took to get to you.

He’d recently found his way into the mountainous region of Miyagi, where winter was in full spring. Taking up residence in the mayor’s home in one of the more populous towns in the prefecture, he once again started his usual process of gathering the shogi players. Word spread fast and droves of them appeared swiftly, waiting to be called before him.

It went much as usual, with boring girls presenting themselves before him and providing him with equally boring games of shogi. These people were painfully predictable with no appreciation for the art of the game - really it was a gift for him to steal their lives from them, because he couldn’t imagine living while being so pitifully unskilled.

The pool of Miyagi courtesans was gradually running dry and Sukuna was preparing himself for another disappointing journey further north when his luck finally shifted.

He knew he’d found you the moment you walked in through the door.

You’d stumbled in meekly, eyes averted down to the floor as you bowed low and shuffled towards the centre of the room. You were taking care not to raise your head for him to look upon, and he quickly realised you were making your best effort to conceal your blindness from him, like you could keep your identity secret that way.

It was a futile attempt, for the very atmosphere around you felt charged, his heart picking up inexplicably at the very sight of you.

To say you were beautiful was an understatement. Everything about you was gorgeous, from your soft hair to the striking intensity of your unseeing eyes. You wore the finest silks and they hung off you well, complimenting your figure. He found himself eager to touch you, to rid you off your lovely gown and have his fingers against your smooth skin.

But that wasn’t the reason he had come, and he would play you before entertaining any other matter.

“Sit,” he ordered, taking great amusement in the shiver that seemed to run through you at the sound of his voice.

You dropped to your knees on the cushion before the board, hands pressing against the edge of the table. It was the first chance he got to take a proper look at your eyes, expecting them to be clouded over, but taken aback by the lovely colour your irises still held beneath that mist.

“You’re blind.” He observed aloud, taking note of the way your teeth caught your lower lip anxiously.

“I see more than enough,” your response was guarded.

He hummed, a sly grin settling on his face. Idly, he wondered if you could sense it, because you seemed to tense up a little, fidgeting across from him in a way his traitorous brain seemed to register as endearing. “Is that so? Do you see enough to know my strategy before we commence? Or will you disappoint me like the others?”

“You tell me.”

Your words had his heart stirring against his will, impressed by your serenity before him, still sitting up straight and calm despite the fear he could sense within you. You were a woman who held confidence despite it all, harboured strength even in the face of your obvious weaknesses. He wondered what you were thinking, if you believed he was there to execute you for the mere transgression of being his soulmate.

It wasn’t a foolish assumption.

He would kill you without a second thought if you were uninteresting to him.

But he’d reserve that judgement until after you had played. He had been promised someone exceptional and that was what he wished to see, anything less and your blood would stain the floor just like every other woman who had sat before him. Would you still be so calm if you could see the bodies littering the room? He assumed not.

He wondered if you hated him, if you cursed fate itself to be paired with a man like him. Nothing about you gave anything away, all your focus fixed on the board in front of you, your hands moving steadily against the wood of the board, as if centring yourself.

“Shall we begin?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Sukuna couldn’t quite comprehend what had transpired in that first game he played against you.

He had approached things in much the same manner that he always would when playing shogi - opening strong and attempting to completely overwhelm his opponent, and yet somehow he found opportunities snatched from him at every turn.

Nothing seemed to catch you off guard. Any attempted play was greeted with an easy answer from you, as though you were battling a child. You were always three steps ahead of him, never hesitating in the shifting of a piece, moving with a certainty that had him transfixed.

He found that he couldn’t draw his eyes away from you, his struggle on the board forgotten at the realisation he’d been well and truly defeated. There was no point in struggling further - you had swatted him aside in the way that he usually defeated others, and you had done it with no glee or brag, nothing more than passive indifference once the games finally came to an end.

Your shoulders were raised, as if awaiting something you wouldn’t be able to see coming. A strike from him, perhaps? Or the neat removal of your head from your shoulders? The same fate of all others he’d played across the last few months.

But he wasn’t in the position to do anything at that moment, lashes fluttering as he stared at you, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

There had been no lie told about your skill - on the contrary, you had exceeded his expectations spectacularly. He wanted to play you again and again, wanted to witness the beauty of the way you played, wished to spend hours lost deep in thought considering how he could even begin to pick you apart in a match.

He could spend years sitting across you, gazing upon your lovely form while you worked away in silence with such unquestionable mastery.

No wonder Sugawara had been disappointed in Sukuna’s ability. He couldn’t hold a candle to what you were.

“How?” He asked, unable to think of another word to offer.

Your head was still lowered, eyes fixed elsewhere. He wished you’d look at him, allow him a clearer view of your face, but it occurred to him that such a request may not be easily granted with your lack of vision. You would never be able to lock eyes with each other - it would be something entirely meaningless for you.

“You aren’t all that good,” you spoke softly, a smile playing on your lips.

Sukuna disagreed with your sentiment, considering he’d never been beaten before, but perhaps you’d consider all his previous opponents to be genuinely pitiful at the game.

“So, will you take my life now? Or is that reserved for the losers?” You asked.

“To take the life of someone I could not best would be cowardly and pointless,” he said with a snort. “How would I ever grow to be better than you if I extinguished you from the world? Don’t be foolish. We will play again.”

And again you played.

Game after game until the sun began to rise in the sky, and Sukuna could sense exhaustion drifting through your fragile form. You were shivering from the cold, and he had Uraume bring in a robe to wrap around you, keenly aware of how sickly you seemed to look beneath all the beauty. You were setting up the board for your tenth match when Sukuna finally put an end to things.

“Enough. I would take no joy in defeating an exhausted opponent.” He rose to his feet, stretching as he moved. He wasn’t keen on remaining still for long periods of time, but you seemed accustomed to it, staying deathly still upon your cushion, uncertainty evident in your posture.

“Then, you will send me to my home?” You asked.

“No.” The word escaped him before he could stop it.

He did not wish for you to go anywhere, lest you slip from his grasp never to be found again. It was because he wanted to play you more, that’s what he told himself, but there was more to it than that, and in his soul he knew it.

He never wanted the image of you on your knees before him to slip away, never wanted to lose the pleasurable feeling of warmth that swelled in his chest with you there within his gaze.

“You’ll accompany me to my home, and we’ll play until I’m satisfied.”

—

Weeks had passed since you’d arrived at Sukuna’s estate in the Hida Mountains.

You’d been given no time to bid goodbye to the women at the only home you’d ever known, swept off in a carriage down south where you had to relearn your surroundings in a totally new environment.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time you’d been in the estate, but that experience made little impact on the ease of traversing around with no vision. You had to move slowly, fingers brushing on blurry objects shadowed in the darkness, hoping you didn’t trip over something or walk into a screen door.

For the most part, you were left to your own devices. Sukuna had spoken little to you on the journey home, opting to ride on his horse rather than in the carriage with you, and he’d been equally elusive in his own estate, leaving you in isolation for days at a time.

You couldn’t complain, for your days were spent in peace and serenity.

You would take long walks in the breeze of his garden, have his servants read aloud to you, and practice playing the erhu. On days where it was particularly cold and the chill seeped into your bones, you would remain in the grand bed he had provided and find greater comfort than you ever had in the old bed you’d laid upon in the courtesan house.

The only obligation you ever had to fulfill were shogi games. And during the times that he wasn’t absent from the estate, those would take place every evening, in Sukuna’s own private quarters.

It was an odd decision, considering that the servants played shogi out in the garden, where a proper table was set up for that purpose. But it seemed that Sukuna took care in ensuring your meetings were private - a decision you didn’t dare read into too deeply.

You didn’t dare read into any of his behaviour too deeply, lest you rip your own heart from your chest.

That first meeting with him had been like nothing you’d ever experienced - genuine desire overcoming you at the deep tone of his voice. Even knowing that he could cause your death with little effort, you couldn’t bury the lust within you, a fire that only burned stronger with each encounter with him.

It was hard to hold it together, to pretend that you wouldn’t fling yourself into his arms given the chance, but you tried all the same, keeping yourself distant and cold, like you didn’t dream of him between your legs each night, imagining the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings against your ear.

Whether he felt the effect to the same extent you did, you weren’t sure. You were certain you’d never know. His interest in you was surrounding shogi, and shogi alone.

One evening, you were sitting across from him having played a handful of games, finding victory had fallen into your hands even more easily than normal. Sukuna seemed distracted by something, the sound of fidgeting settling in your ears. He hadn’t moved to start a new game, and based on the shadowy shapes in your vision, you could only assume he was leaning forward upon the table, bringing him close enough for his breath to fan your face.

“I killed today,” he said. Those were the first words he’d spoken to you that evening - you always followed his example with conversation, if he was feeling chatty you would indulge him, if he wished for silence you would give him that too.

You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with that statement, nor were you certain what type of response he was seeking, so you offered him a hum of acknowledgement and little more. You didn’t wish to think of the death that stained his hands, but nor did it build your animosity towards him.

To some extent you could understand lashing out at the world when you were someone so desperately lonely as he was. Part of you believed that if you hadn’t been so frail perhaps you’d lash out at the world for your own condition. His primary servant had told you he’d been despised throughout his life, and when you find only cruelty in humans it's difficult to cling to kindness.

Sukuna wasn’t so simple as a mere monster. You’d understood that in the day you’d spent in his body, and had only further confirmed it by the intelligence he displayed when you’d speak over games of shogi. He had a great admiration for art and skill, and had seemed rather taken when you’d recited poetry, responding with verses of his own.

He was a multi-faceted man, and much of what you saw only seemed to further your attraction to him, even knowing it was wrong, even knowing you’d be hated for it. For once, you felt you’d found someone who understood what it was like to be you, to be cut off from the easy lives lived by most others.

A soul that entwined so perfectly with yours, even if he’d never be aware of such a thing.

“Do you wish to know who I killed?” He asked.

“I know few people, my lord. I doubt a name would mean anything to me.”

“This one might. I’ve heard you’re familiar with Officer Sugawara? He’s one of the Shogun’s men?”

Thoughts of your regular flickered through your mind. If you were being honest with yourself, you were glad to not have to see him anymore - him or any of the other clients you’d been forced to take. Courtesan life had been difficult for you, forced into it thanks to the conditions of your birth and kept there by a disability that made it hard to escape the life for something better.

Life in Sukuna’s estate had been easier, especially as the weeks passed and you grew more comfortable in the belief that Sukuna wasn't going to steal your life from you. You’d lived in fear of Sugawara buying you out, of being forced to live like some doll in the house of a terribly boring man whose voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to your ears.

“I know him.”

“Knew him, would be more apt. His body lies at the foot of the mountain.” Sukuna spoke matter-of-factly. “He came to claim you from me. I refused and we couldn’t reach an amicable agreement, so I dealt with it another way.”

You weren’t sure how to react, struggling to process the words. That Sugawara would follow you down to Hida already came as a surprise, you hadn’t known how deep his devotion ran. But somehow, you found yourself rather taken by Sukuna’s decision, by the certainty in his choice to keep you.

To kill a man whose death could cause him issues with the Shogun might as well have been an outright confession of love.

Sugawara’s death meant little to you. Men like that died all the time, and they saw women as little more than pretty objects to own. Sugawara had seen you as an impressive party trick, a clever cat rather than a human with depth and desires of her own. You hadn’t wanted to be his, wouldn’t have liked for Sukuna to surrender you to him.

“Are you irritated with me? When I controlled your body you seemed repulsed at his presence. Perhaps you have a heart too soft for blood and death.”

“No- I-” You hesitated. “Did you do this to protect me?”

There was silence for a moment, and you longed to see his facial expression, but were forced to settle for the hint of confusion in his tone. “Of course. I’ve protected you since bringing you here. You can hardly protect yourself.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be offended - he’d been in your body, he knew of your frailty better than anyone.

“Why? Just because you enjoy shogi so much?”

“Somewhat. Though I must confess, lately I have been losing interest in the game. I feel I’ve come up against an insurmountable wall.” Panic filled you immediately, mind running at a million miles a minute as you analysed his statement. If he was growing bored of playing would he cast you aside? What use did he have for you if not shogi?

But then again, why would he kill Sugawara if he was moments from disposing of you?

“Perhaps it is the fault of my own discipline, for I’ve found it hard to focus on the game for quite some time now.” He hesitated, and you found yourself flinching at the feeling of a soft hand caressing your cheek, leaning into it once you overcame the initial shock of touch. “It is difficult when you have a beautiful woman sitting across from you. It’s even harder when my soul calls for you whenever you're near, drowning out any thoughts I might gather of strategy.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure what to say, wondering if you should pinch yourself, for many of your dreams centred themselves around such a confession. But the touch had never felt so real before, large fingers brushing against the soft skin of your face.

“I wonder if I’d be more focussed if I admitted fate might make some sense after all. I have never denied myself anything before now, and I’m tired of denying myself you. You have captivated me thoroughly, and I believe the hole in my chest was carved out to allow you to one day settle there.”

The words were by far the most romantic statement anyone had ever uttered to you. In your time as a courtesan you’d heard plenty of cheesy and affectionate lines, ones you’d brush off and forget by the time the client was done with you. Sukuna’s words would burrow into your heart and remain there for as long as you drew breath.

Could anyone fault you for loving a monster who would speak such beauty to you? Could you be hated for finding one who had been cursed by the world just like you had?

“I have no care for the Shogun’s men,” Sukuna continued, “in my eyes they are little more than flies most of the time, an annoying thing to be ignored unless they brush too close. Would it amuse you to know I killed Sugawara out of jealousy? To hear that my chest tightened at the idea of you being taken from my side?”

“Because you enjoy having such a capable rival in intelligence?” You asked, a wry smile creeping onto your face.

“Because I enjoy you.”

It was clear he was waiting for you to say something. The words that had poured from his mouth were unlike any he’d spoken before, and although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the sense of restlessness that gripped his body.

You would not leave him in uncertainty.

“I have only ever seen the world through your eyes,” you confessed shyly, “the only face I see in the endless darkness is yours, and I dream of it every night.” Sukuna’s fingers twitched against your face. “If you’ll have me, I am yours.”

“Even though I’m a monster?” He asked. There was no remorse in his tone, nothing to suggest that he was pained over who he was, it was just an honest question for you to answer as you wished. “You were scared of me when we met. I know you hid yourself from me after discovering our connection, eager to ensure our paths would never cross.”

“Because I believed you would kill me. I thought you to be a man who would stamp out any notion of love and eliminate me along with it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, failing to deny your statement. You knew it to be true - if you had lost your shogi game on that first meeting, he would’ve done exactly that. It was in his nature to love only that which piqued his interest.

“Especially to be paired with someone so weak, I thought you would consider it an insult.”

He scoffed. “You are far from weak, I’ve found it impossible to best you.”

“I meant physically,” your voice went small. “I did not imagine the King of Curses would favour a sightless woman, nor one so easily broken.”

He was silent for a moment, seemingly processing your words. “I was small and frail once. Perhaps frailer than you. I wish someone had valued me then for my other virtues. I’m big enough and sharp enough to make up for your failings and you are clever enough to cover mine.”

Your mind was reeling at the idea of him admitting to having failings. Your heart stirring at his affection, and his easy desire despite your condition.

“I had not imagined a soulmate to be so well suited to me, for my tangles with fate have always been cruel,” he said. “But you’re something different, something I need at my side, and I will be your eyes, your protector, whatever it is you want in order to keep you there.”

“Oh.” You were positively blushing, whole body trembling beneath the weight of lovely words spoken in that deep voice of his.

Your soulmate wanted you.

A man hated by the world and filled with hatred in return had a space carved out for you, a space for love you hadn’t known him capable of.

You’d loved him from the first time you’d met him, drawn to him by an inexplicable force which seemed to grip him just as hard.

Soulmates really were wonderful.

Silence had settled between the two of you, only broken as the table screeched across the floor, the barrier between you removed. Sukuna shifted forward and an arm came to rest around your smaller body, pulling you towards him. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss you could only describe as sweet.

He didn’t dominate you in the manner you believed a man like him would, instead he took his time, mapping out your lips and drawing you closer to him, letting you bathe in the warmth of his body against yours. It was almost like he was trying not to scare you, aware that you couldn’t see anything he was doing and trying to move slowly as a result.

You wouldn’t have minded either way, your fingers clinging to the biceps of his upper arms, desperate for more of a touch you’d only ever dreamed of.

People always said that to finally touch your soulmate was a euphoria like nothing else, and you truly believed them to be right. Your head felt like it was swimming, chest swelling as if Sukuna’s own soul had wriggled beneath your skin to intertwine with your own.

It was a little overwhelming.

“How I long for you,” he murmured against your ear, breaking the kiss. “I was foolish to have not had you the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve ached for your touch longer than I care to admit.”

His fingers moved down to your robes, and your breath hitched at the touch. You were no stranger to sex, your job had required it, but the feeling as he undressed you wasn’t like any previous encounter you’d had. What regulars thought of your body was insignificant to you, sex was nothing special with them, just something you had to do if you wished to make a living wage.

This was the first time you’d ever been touched for free by someone you desired, and you felt suddenly nervous at your frail body being judged beneath his crimson gaze - especially when you couldn’t look upon him in the same moment. There was no distraction in the darkness to keep you from worrying about how his gaze might burn through you, imagining discontent on his handsome face.

A cold chill caught you once your robes fell, leaving you kneeling and exposed in front of him. A soft breath fell from his lips, fingers moving delicately from your shoulders down to your breasts, as if checking you were truly real and there before him. More heat flooded you as his finger brushed over your peaked nipple.

“Beautiful. If I didn’t despise the idea of sharing you with another I would paint you like this. Your body is worthy of that reverence.”

“I think my mind is probably more splendid.” You confessed. You had no eyes for awareness of your appearance, and had subsequently never really relied on it. People had said you were lovely, but you could never quite believe it, assuming that they were taking pity on you for your blindness.

“Your mind is exceptional. If I cannot beat you at shogi soon I have half a mind to ask you to assist me with real life strategy,” he said with a chuckle, fingers still trailing a slow path down your body. “But it doesn’t make your body any less lovely, and you cannot deny such things since you’ve never seen yourself. Let me be your eyes and tell you that you are breathtaking.”

A shyness overcame you at those words, head angled downwards as if it would hide your blushing state from him. He raised your chin with a finger, his nose bumping yours before capturing your mouth in a kiss once more, bringing you close against his bare chest. You were so lost in the comfort of the kiss, that you found yourself completely caught off guard when something wet swiped against your stomach and breasts.

Flinching in surprise, you drew yourself back in an attempt to understand what was happening. Sukuna laughed, a hand moving into your hair comfortingly. “It's my tongue,” he spoke easily.

Frowning, you found that his answer didn’t make sense, because still the wet appendage explored your breasts, sending your heartrate flying as it flicked against your nipple with impressive accuracy. How could he be speaking but also doing that?

“There’s a mouth on my stomach. Perhaps you didn’t notice when you controlled my body.”

You were ashamed to admit you hadn’t noticed such a thing. Sukuna had been naked when you’d awoken in his body, and you’d been quick to dress him up in robes, feeling rude to intrude upon the body of another without consent. You’d very intentionally not paid too much attention to the workings of his body, not when the first thing you’d seen was the oddity he sported between his legs.

The memory that he had two of what most men only had one, suddenly had you feeling a little nervous in your position. You had no time to voice such nervousness before he was picking you up, allowing his second tongue to continue its onslaught while he carried you over to the bed, depositing you down upon the silk.

His weight moved on top of you, and he swallowed a gasp with his lips as his monstrous tongue shifted its attention from your breasts down to between your legs, dexterously finding a path between your things and lathering your pussy with attention while Sukuna consumed your mouth. Tears pricked in your eyes at the sensation, unaccustomed to a feeling like that.

In all your years as a courtesan, you’d never been eaten out. Men didn’t come to brothels to serve women, they came to have their own needs attended to, and you’d done that in whichever manner they desired. You were grateful to have never experienced that feeling before, because it was a blessing to have Sukuna be your first.

Pressure built in your stomach over a series of minutes, overwhelmed by the way he seemed to be everywhere. A tongue between your lips, another between your thighs, hands squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, more hands gripping your hips, pulling you up onto his secondary tongue to allow it a better angle to overwhelm you.

For the first time, you started to understand how Sukuna must feel whenever he played you at shogi - stumbling blindly in the dark whilst overcome from all angles with no means of knowing what was going to come next. It was pleasure in its highest form, and you were quick to cum with a yelp of his name, tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

Sukuna broke the kiss, breathing heavily against your ear. It was a sound you enjoyed, one you could listen to all day if he’d allow you. “I have imagined you beneath me like this every night this week,” he mused, “my imagination is hardly as pleasant as having the real thing. You taste much sweeter than my mind could conjure.”

Again, you were flushing red. “Y-you can taste me through…that?”

“Of course.” You were certain he was grinning, “And I’m glad that I can.” His secondary tongue was still moving slowly through your folds, lapping up the remnants of your first orgasm, teasingly flicking against your clit and making your shudder.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, breathing quietly together. You weren’t sure what Sukuna wanted to do next, but for a moment you were happy to savor the warmth of his heavy body, twitching while he lazily continued his attention to your body. How you longed to see him, eager to witness the expression he was wearing while he attended to you.

All you had to go off was the erratic beating of his heart where his chest was pressed against you.

“Let me have you,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me make you mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

“Is that so? Then let me make it official.”

He shifted atop you, withdrawing his secondary tongue. In the absence of that heat between your thighs, you grew suddenly aware of a heavy pressure against your leg. Your mind jumped to the image of his cocks that you’d filed away in the back of your mind, gut twisting at the thought of either one of them pressing into you.

Sukuna chuckled from above you, a hand coming to stroke your hair. “You’ve seen them, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

“I can tell, you’ve got that scared little look on your face. It’s fascinating, when you play shogi you’re unreadable, but outside of that? You’re practically an open book with your emotions always written across your face.”

Pouting, you let humiliation wash over you. Nobody had ever told you that before. It was hard to guard one's emotions when you had no measure of how the faces of others looked. That was something you’d have to work on. At least you had the good sense to give nothing away when you played shogi.

Another laugh echoed from his lips. “Even now I can see your panic. It’s very endearing.”

Any protest or response you had for him faded away into the recesses of your brain as he shuffled on top of you. He maneuvered you carefully into a new position, raising your legs and placing them up atop his broad shoulders. You were grateful for your flexibility in that moment, because the size difference between the two of you made that no easy task.

Sukuna was watching you from above while he positioned one of his cocks between your legs, running it steadily through your wet folds in a way that had you shivering with desire, still not fully recovered from the actions of his tongue. You were quick to discover that his focus was on his lower cock, as the upper one bumped pleasurably against your clit.

“You know,” he mused, stilling his movements. “I’m surprised you struck no deal with me. It is what I had imagined you would do.”

“What?”

“I’d assumed I would ask for more and you would refuse me. I’d thought your respect was tied to shogi, that you would refuse anything from me unless I was capable of beating you.” Your mind moved to Sugawara as you connected the dots. Sukuna believed you’d made that deal before, as if that tiresome Official hadn’t dictated those rules of his own choosing.

Shogi was a game you adored, mainly because it was an activity you could excel at even without sight, unlike many other courtesan pastimes such as painting, which would forever be an impossibility for you. But it was by no means something you made all your decisions on, nor were you particularly interested in the skill of others.

If someone could defeat you, you would congratulate them for their win and move on, it would ultimately mean little.

To you, it was little more than a game. To various men, it seemed to be something held in much higher regard - a true mark of intelligence rather than a game for which one could learn and remember strategies to allow them a win.

It mattered little to you whether Sukuna could defeat you or not. Your affection for him wasn’t tied to it in any manner.

“To make such a demand would be wasting my own time. Why would I turn down a man I desire over something so trivial? Besides, my bet with Sugawara was made to ensure I never had to lay with him, that is not the fate I want for us.”

“So you believe I am incapable of winning?” He asked, with greater disappointment than you’d been expecting.

“I do,” you said with a giggle, “just as I am incapable of emerging victorious in a battle. We all have our strengths.”

A yelp fell from you as he pushed the tip of his cock into you, catching you unawares. “Yeah?” He asked, pressing deeper into you, his fingers tangling tightly into your hair. “Rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again - even in the midst of the dull pain of him driving into you, there was something so endearingly pathetic about his words.

“I am. But you’re free to challenge me whenever you like.”

He was silent as he bottomed out inside of you, his face falling to your neck and leaving a trail of kisses and bites along your skin while he allowed you some time to adjust. You were grateful for his consideration of your wellbeing, fingers digging into his skin, your gut aching as he leaned forwards over you, pushing your legs higher on his shoulders.

There was no question that he was the largest man you’d ever had inside you, practically tearing you apart with his intrusion, but after a few minutes of stillness you found yourself able to relax, the panic exhibited by your body slowly dissipating as you accommodated his size.

“I will challenge you whenever I like,” he whispered against your ear. “After this, the cloud of lust you’ve placed in my mind will be thinner, and I will beat you with ease.”

“Oh, I’m sure-”

Your snarky response was promptly cut off as he withdrew himself from you, only to swiftly fill you up once more, pulling a desperate cry of his name from your lips. There was no second adjustment period given, instead you found yourself clinging on for dear life as he filled you over and over again with swift and deep thrusts that had your eyes rolling back.

One of his hands moved to your stomach, pressing down against the bulge where his cock would press up inside you. It was clear he was fascinated by it, finding great enjoyment in you being claimed by him. You were certain he was no virgin, but it seemed that you were the first woman who meant something to him, the first one who was worth something beyond carnal pleasure.

Legs quivering beneath the weight of his thrusts, you appreciated the way two of his hands came to rest on your thighs, keeping you steady with each brutal snap of his hips. You were crying and whining, your hands blindly reaching for him but finding him just out of range in this position. Seemingly to appease you, he leant further forward, really testing the flexibility of your legs as he practically folded you in half.

Lips pressed against your forehead affectionately, and you enjoyed every single second of his attention, mind floating off on a cloud as your gut tightened with each careful stroke, your walls flexing around his cock. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a feeling only heightened by the erratic contact of his higher cock rubbing up against your clit.

“You feel so good, fuck. I can’t last like this,” he grumbled, never losing pace. It stroked your ego to know of his desire, to understand just how much he’d been holding back since your first meeting. It was everything you imagined the joining of two soulmates would be - desperately euphoric and overflowing with pleasure.

Sex had never felt so good, it had never really felt good at all, and yet you could spend eternity with Sukuna buried inside of you, your bodies and souls joined just as they were always meant to be.

He was yours and you were his. It was just as fate had decreed.

There was nothing stopping the scream that ripped through you as you finally teetered over the edge, your body convulsing in pleasure and clamping down on Sukuna’s thick cock, eager to milk him for all he was worth. You were sobbing his name and writhing against the silk sheets, your hands gripping them desperately in an attempt to anchor yourself to something in the throes of pleasure.

Sukuna couldn’t hold on long after that either, spilling into you with a warmth that only heightened your pleasure. His other cock found its release at the same time, cum dripping down onto your stomach in a manner that you’d usually find disgusting, if it weren’t your soulmate who was doing it to you. He groaned your name quietly, and let your legs fall from his shoulders.

Without the barrier of your thighs, he settled himself down on top of you, pressing kisses all over your face, his cock still twitching inside your exhausted pussy. You let him lather you with affection, still trying to come to terms with this side of Sukuna. It had been what you’d wanted, what you believed he was capable of, but you hadn’t dreamed it would truly happen.

The most you believed you’d get from him was a lifetime of shogi matches, in which the two of you would remain close but never cross the line you’d been so desperate to leap across.

“Has the fog of lust lifted?” You teased. “Do you believe now you can defeat me?”

Sukuna let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Perhaps we will have to do that a few more times for it to fully ease.”

“Oh is that so?” You giggled, reaching out for his hair. He gripped your wrist and moved it into position, allowing you to play with the soft locks you’d been so eager to touch since the first time you’d seen them upon his head.

You wished you could gaze upon that lovely shade of pink once more, but it was enough to know he was there before you, yours to touch as you pleased.

“Mmm, I think it would help,” he purred.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

You’d give him whatever he wanted. You were his and he was yours for as long as he’d have you.

a/n: I had so much fun writing this one! thinking about doing one soulmate au for each of the jjk men because I find them so enjoyable to play with <3

anyway, for any crazy in love fans, the next chapter will be out towards the end of this week!

perma taglist: @calicatzz @suzunu @winkii @sukubusss @bobis-notmylover @tetsuski @torupilled @brattyxackerman @r0vena @chaos-4baby @moonlitreveri3 @feyrinnn @strawberryrosey @creamofsneky-blog @zeeseekay @p1nkfl0wers @apricityn @keiiiluv @dogggggggblog-kaye @duckie3801 @lav4mpira @seellove @cutesytwt @gojodickbig @yuujispinkhair @somos-things @yeagersss @paradisestarfishh @jennilynn63 @tthhaattgguuyy27 @bexxli @being-blue-is-better @tisuruxx @juliarchiv3s @dishs0pe @plutoxxxworld @5kkalara @serenadesvt @00frenchfries00 @warriorofenlightenment @scarlet-issilly @himbosexual @pousivuitton @ksjtozaki @certainfanpoetry @gojoscumslut @ynishalee @nakiich

Two years since he left you. Two years since he promised he would come back soon. Two years of missions, battles, searching, asking questions in every island and town he could reach. Two years of finding nothing about you.

Until now.

His eyes stop on the old house… Dadan's place.

He almost laughs at himself.

How did he not think of it before?

Of course you would come here and of course Dadan would take you in.

The door suddenly opens as soon as he knocks.

Dadan freezes, then her eyes narrow “You...”

Sabo scratches the back of his neck “Hey, Dadan.”

“Get lost.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Leave.”

“I just want to—”

“Leave.”

Her voice is loud enough that the birds nearby fly away.

Inside the house, someone speaks. Your voice “Dadan? Who is it?”

Sabo feels his heart jump into his throat “Y/N…”

Inside the house, you freeze.

That voice… after two years.

Dadan quickly steps outside and almost closes the door behind her.

“Nobody!” she shouts.

Sabo blinks “Nobody?”

“Exactly. Nobody important.”

“Dadan…”

“Go away.”

“I came all this way to see her.”

“Too late for that.”

His stomach twists “Please.”

Dadan's face hardens “Did you say please when you disappeared?”

Sabo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Dadan points down the mountain “Leave.”

Instead, Sabo gently pushes past her “Sorry.”

“Oi! Brat!”

He steps inside and stops. His bag almost slips from his hand.

You're sitting at the table.

You're here…

And for a second, all he sees is you.

Then his eyes move lower, to the small child sitting beside you.

The little boy kicks his legs against the chair. He looks unhappy, because you've stopped moving. because the spoon with his food stays frozen halfway to his mouth.

The little boy reaches toward it “Mm.”

No answer.

He points at his mouth “Mm!”

Still nothing.

Your eyes stay on Sabo. Shocked and unbelieving.

The child pouts, then he grabs your sleeve “Mom!”

The word hits the room harder than a cannon.

Mom.

Sabo stops breathing.

Reality crashes back in you and you finally move the spoon toward the child.

He happily eats the food.

Then you stand “Magra?”

Magra looks up from the corner “Yeah?”

“Can you feed him for a bit?”

“Sure.”

The little boy frowns immediately and calls you “Mama.”

You gently touch his hair and try your best to smile at him “I'll be back soon.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before looking toward Magra with great disappointment.

Magra snorts “Wow, thanks for the trust.”

The child ignores him completely.

Sabo is still standing near the door, still staring, and still trying to understand.

Dadan grabs his shirt hard “Out.”

This time he doesn't fight her, he lets her drag him outside.

The door slams behind them.

Then she yells “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Sabo jumps “Dadan!”

“You disappear for two years!”

“I know.”

“You don't send any letter!”

“I couldn't—”

“You don't come back!”

“I was searching for her!”

“After leaving her alone?!”

Sabo falls silent.

Dadan steps closer “You idiot! Do you know how much she cried?”

His chest hurts.

“Do you know how long she waited?”

He lowers his eyes.

“Do you know what she went through?”

He says nothing, because he doesn't know… because he wasn't there to know all that.

Dadan points toward the house “She needed you.”

Every word feels heavier than the last.

“Instead she had us.”

Sabo clenches his fists.

Dadan steps closer “She… needed you.”

Sabo lowers his eyes “I know.”

“No, you don't.” her voice shakes with anger “You left and expected her to wait forever.”

“I never asked her to wait.”

“You didn't have to ask.”

The words hit harder than any punch.

Dadan points toward the house “She believed in you.”

Sabo says nothing… he just remembers everytime he left and you smiling and telling him to come back safely.

Because every time, he did come back… until he didn't.

“The Revolutionaries needed me.”

“And what? She didn't?”

He clenches his fists “I thought I still had time.”

Dadan lets out a bitter laugh “I'll tell you a funny thing about time.”

Silence falls between them.

“One day you look back and realize you missed the most important things… you should already know this very well, Sabo.”

Sabo looks toward the house… toward you.

His voice is almost a whisper “I searched for her.”

Dadan crosses her arms “After how long?”

He doesn't answer immediately, because there is no good answer, then he answers “Too long.”

Dadan clicks her tongue “Yeah.”

His eyes stay on the house “I checked every place I thought she could go.”

“Apparently you're still an idiot.”

For the first time since he arrived, Sabo lets out a small laugh “Looks like it.”

“You should've checked here first.”

“Yeah.” he smiles sadly “I should have.”

The door opens and both of them turn.

You step outside slowly and Dadan immediately moves toward you “You don't have to talk to him.”

You give her a small smile “It's okay.”

“It's not okay.”

“I know.”

Your eyes move to Sabo. The face you spent two years trying not to miss… but it was impossible, for different reasons.

He looks older and more tired.

His eyes meet yours and quietly he greets you “Hi.”

Such a small word and yet, somehow, it hurts more than anger would.

You almost laugh or cry but you simply say “Hi, Sabo.”

Dadan looks between the two of you and groans very loudly “I’m too old for this mess.”

You step closer and Sabo doesn't move.

He probably thinks you'll yell or that you'll hit him. Maybe he thinks you'll tell him to leave.

Instead, your fingers wrap around his wrist “Come with me.”

He follows immediately as you lead him away from the house and into the forest nearby.

You finally stop walking, but you don't let go of his wrist.

After an infinite while, you finally let go of his wrist.

The loss of your touch is immediate for Sabo. 

His eyes fall to his hand… because he noticed way too fast that you grabbed his wrist and not his hand.

Not the way you used to.

Not like the countless times you dragged him through markets, through forests, through crowded towns.

Back then your fingers would slip between his without thinking.

Now it was just a careful choice from you.

His chest hurts more than he expects for that.

“I'm sorry you had to find out this way...”

Sabo looks up immediately, but you aren't looking at him.

Your eyes stay fixed on the ground but then, finally, you look at him, and the tears in your eyes make something inside him twist painfully.

Before he can say anything, you continue.

“I'll introduce him to you, step by step...”

Sabo freezes.

“It's a big change, it needs time.”

Your fingers tighten around your sleeves “I know you won't run...” the pause lasts less than a second “...from him.”

Sabo stops breathing, because he understands exactly what you mean.

You trust him not to run from your son, unlike when he ran from you.

His throat feels tight “I didn't—”

But you keep going again, before he can answer “I waited months for you before coming here...”

His words die immediately.

“Months.” your laugh is small and broken “I kept telling myself you were busy.”

You wipe at your eyes quickly and angrily “That your mission took longer.”

Another shaky breath “That maybe your Den Den Mushi broke.”

Sabo lowers his eyes.

You smile… a sad smile “I was very creative with the excuses.”

His chest aches.

“Then I came here. I tried so hard not to think about you after that.” your voice cracks “Really hard.”

The tears finally spill over “But it was impossible.”

Sabo takes a step forward but he stops himself immediately.

You don't seem to notice, you don't look at him anymore.

“You saw him...”

His eyes soften instantly, he thinks of the little boy, your son.

His son.

“He looks just like you.” your voice breaks completely this time “It's not fair.”

You squat down suddenly and then you lower yourself to the ground.

Your arms wrap around your knees.

Your face disappears against them.

Sabo freezes, because he knows this exact position. You always did this after arguments, after nightmares, after bad days, or whenever sadness became too big.

You curled into yourself and hid your face.

He remembers sitting beside you years ago. Never forcing you to speak first.

His chest tightens painfully, because now he’s the reason.

Not some stranger and not some bad day.

Him.

Your shoulders shake slightly “Every time he smiles… Every time he laughs… Every time he tilts his head when he's confused...”

Sabo feels his heart sink lower with every word.

“It's you.”

The wind moves through the trees above you.

“I loved you so much, Sabo.”

Past tense.

The word hits harder than any punch he's ever taken.

“And he looks so much like the person who broke my heart.”

Silence.

Heavy and painful.

Then finally Sabo moves, slowly and carefully.

He lowers himself onto the ground beside you, without touching you, because he doesn't think he has earned that.

For a long moment he simply sits there, just like he used to, just like years ago.

Then quietly “I know.”

His voice is rough “I know I don't deserve forgiveness.”

You don't move.

“And I know saying sorry won't fix two years.”

Nothing.

Sabo stares at the dirt beneath his boots “But if you'll let me...”

His fingers curl against his knees “I want to know him.”

His voice grows quieter and softer “I want to know everything.”

His eyes move toward you, toward the girl he left behind and toward the woman he found again.

“His favorite food.”

A small smile appears, even if sad and fragile.

“His favorite game.”

Another pause.

“What makes him laugh.”

His throat tightens.

“What scares him.”

His next words are barely above a whisper.

“I want to know every single thing I missed.”

For the first time since sitting down, your shoulders stop shaking, and slowly, your breathing evens out.

The silence between you isn't uncomfortable anymore.

You slowly lift your head from your knees.

For a moment, neither of you says anything, you simply look at each other.

Seconds pass, maybe minutes.

For a moment there is only you for Sabo. The girl he laughed with. The girl he dreamed about. The girl he left behind.

The woman he somehow still loves just as much as he did years ago.

Maybe even more.

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, before he can think and before he can wonder if he still has the right to say them.

“I love you so much, Y/N...”

Your eyes widen slightly and that makes you break eye contact.

Your gaze falls to the ground between you and Sabo immediately regrets it “Sorry.”

He runs a hand through his hair “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

He stops.

But he finally understands that he’s done stopping and running from difficult things.

“No, actually...” he takes a shaky breath “I’m not sorry for loving you.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around your knees.

“But I am sorry for everything else.”

His voice becomes quieter.

“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I thought staying away was protecting you.”

His eyes lower.

“I’m sorry I convinced myself that if I stayed with the Revolutionaries and kept danger away from you, that somehow made everything okay.”

The guilt in his voice is impossible to hide now.

“It didn’t.”

Silence.

“I missed your hardest moments because of it.”

His throat tightens.

“I wasn’t there when you needed me… I wasn’t there for him.”

His voice almost breaks on the last word.

“I wasn’t there for either of you.”

For a long moment, you say nothing.

Then finally you admit “I never thought that you, out of everyone, would leave me.”

Sabo looks up immediately.

Your eyes stay on the ground “After everything you went through as a kid… After losing your family here.”

Another pause.

“After Ace.”

His chest tightens painfully at the name.

“After all that...”

Your fingers grip your sleeves.

“I thought you would understand what being left behind feels like.”

The words aren't cruel and that somehow makes them hurt more.

“Maybe that's why it hurt more than I expected.”

Sabo opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Because what can he say to that?

You're right.

“Yeah...” you let out a small breath “Our son has the face of the man who broke my heart.”

Sabo closes his eyes briefly, but then you continue “But he was made out of love.”

His eyes open immediately.

You finally look at him again. There are still tears in your eyes, but there is warmth there too.

“And that little face...” a tiny smile appears “It looks just like the face of the man I loved.”

Sabo's breath catches.

Your smile grows just a little “The man I still love.”

His heart stumbles.

“The man I'll probably always love.”

For a moment he simply stares at you, unable to speak or to breathe.

Finally he calls your name “Y/N...”

You smile softly at him “I just need time, Sabo.”

He nods immediately, but you continue “I love you.”

His eyes widen.

“But I need time.”

This time Sabo answers immediately, as if he's afraid you'll change your mind “I'll give you all the time you need, Y/N.”

There isn't even a second of hesitation.

“I'm not leaving again.” his voice is firm and certain “I regret that with all my heart.”

He shakes his head “I won't make the same mistake twice.”

A small laugh escapes him “Honestly, I'm lucky you're even talking to me right now.”

That makes you laugh a bit, probably the first one he's heard from you in years.

You smile at him and for the first time since arriving at Dadan's house Sabo smiles back.

Then suddenly, you move forward and wrap your arms around him.

Sabo freezes for exactly half a second before his arms are around you too, almost instinctively. Like they've been waiting years to do this again.

He holds you carefully.

His face presses lightly against your hair.

Your arms tighten around him.

The last two years disappear at that moment… not forgiven and not forgotten, but love survived them. Bruised and changed, but still alive.

And as Sabo closes his eyes, holding you against him for the first time in years, only one thought remains in his mind.

This time he's staying.

The walk back to Dadan's house is quiet, but not awkward.

When the house finally comes into view, voices reach you before the door does.

“Get back here!”

“Oi! Stop running!”

“He's heading for the door again!”

“I got him— NO I DON'T!”

You stop and Sabo blinks.

“...What is happening?”

You smile immediately “Sounds about right.”

The moment you open the door, chaos greets you.

Magra is trying to block the doorway.

Dogra is kneeling on the floor with both arms spread like he's trying to catch a wild animal.

Dadan stands nearby looking seconds away from giving up on life entirely.

And in the middle of it all, your son… tiny but determined and very angry.

The little boy pushes against Magra's legs.

“Mama!”

Magra sighs dramatically “Kid, your mama has been gone for like ten minutes!”

“Mama!”

“We're not keeping her hostage!”

The little boy points furiously toward the door “Mama!”

Then he rushes toward you with all the speed his tiny legs can manage, which isn't much, but the determination is impressive.

You barely have time to crouch before he reaches you and his tiny arms wrap around your legs.

Then his eyes move upward, toward Sabo and the little boy immediately narrows his eyes.

The child steps in front of you, his tiny arms spread wide, protective and serious.

He faces Sabo directly.

“Me...” a tiny finger points toward his own chest “Mama's hero!”

The room falls silent, Then you burst into laughter, real and so bright that Sabo thinks it may be his favorite sound in the world.

You quickly pick up your son and he immediately starts squirming, trying to escape, clearly because his important hero duties aren’t finished.

“Wait! Hero work!” he protests in toddler language and gestures.

You laugh harder “I know, I know.”

He points accusingly toward Sabo, still suspicious.

You look toward Sabo with tears of laughter in your eyes “He loves superheroes.”

You adjust the little boy on your hip “So I always call him my hero.”

The little boy nods proudly of this title.

“Now he threatens every man that gets close to me.”

Dogra snorts “Last week he tried to fight a mailman.”

“To be fair,” Magra says, “the mailman looked suspicious.”

“He was delivering letters!”

“Exactly what a suspicious person would do.”

Dadan smacks Magra's head.

The little boy finally calms down at the sound of your laughter and his little arms wrap around your neck instead.

The dangerous man has apparently been temporarily tolerated.

Sabo watches the two of you quietly, then softly “You two are so cute...”

The words leave before he can stop them.

His eyes stay on the kid… the same eyes.

The same hair but with your colour.

The same little tilt of his head.

The regret of missing all these things settles heavier in his chest.

You notice, so instead of letting him drown in it, you smile a wider smile this time.

Then you look at your son “Hey, hero?”

The little boy looks up immediately “Hmm?”

You point toward Sabo “This is Sabo.”

Your son's suspicious expression immediately returns and you almost laugh again “He's not one of the bad men.”

The little boy thinks about this very seriously and veryyy carefully, before pointing at Sabo “Not bad?”

“Not bad.” you smile softly “He was my hero before you arrived.”

Sabo freezes.

Then you finally say it… “He's your dad.”

Silence.

Sabo is pretty sure his heart stops.

Your son looks at Sabo, then at you as if looking for a confirmation, you nod and then he looks back at Sabo.

Meanwhile Sabo looks almost more shocked than the child.

“Dad?”

The little boy tests the word carefully, as if trying to understand it.

You smile “Yeah.”

You gently brush some hair away from his forehead “Do you want to say hi to him?”

Suddenly your brave little hero becomes shy and he hides part of his face against your shoulder.

Sabo's heart somehow melts and breaks at the same time.

You slowly step closer, until your son is standing between both of you.

Sabo tries his best to not look too intimidating and gives him the softest smile you've ever seen, then he waves.

The little boy stares for a moment, then a tiny hand appears, waving back.

Sabo smiles wider, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes.

His attention slowly returns to you and for a moment neither of you says anything, then his hand lifts slowly, giving you enough time to move away if you want to.

You don't, and his fingers brush softly against your cheek in a gentle caress.

You lean into it slightly before you can stop yourself and your smile softens.

Across the room Dadan snorts, loudly “Amazing.”

Nobody answers and that doesn't stop her “Guy disappears for years and still gets the girl and the kid.”

Magra immediately nods “Honestly, that's a crazy level of luck.”

“Should buy a lottery ticket.” Dogra agrees.

Dadan crosses her arms “Should buy some brain cells while he's at it.”

Sabo lets out a quiet breath but says nothing, because she's right and she has every right to say it.

Instead, his eyes move back to you, to your smile and to the little boy still holding onto your neck.

To the family he almost lost before he even realized he had one… and silently, Sabo promises himself he won't waste this second chance.

Months later.

You sit on the grass beneath the shade of a large tree, when a familiar laugh reaches your ears.

Your smile appears before you even turn to look.

Sabo stands a few meters away with your son sitting proudly in his arms.

Half sitting and half climbing him.

The little cape flowing behind him certainly isn't helping.

“And then Ace got angry because I caught more fish than him.”

Your son's eyes become huge “Dad won?”

Sabo grins “Of course I won.”

“Liar!”

Sabo gasps dramatically “Excuse me?”

The little boy points accusingly at him “Mama says heroes don't lie!”

Sabo looks toward you immediately “You're ruining my reputation.”

You laugh “Good.”

Your son giggles proudly.

Sabo sighs dramatically “Fine. Maybe Ace caught one more fish than me.”

“Ha!”

“But I climbed trees faster.”

“And Uncle Ace?”

“Faster than me.”

“And Uncle Luffy?”

Sabo laughs “Luffy fell out of the tree.”

The little boy laughs loudly.

Sabo smiles at him before continuing “And then there was your mama.”

Your son immediately looks toward you, interested “Mama climbed?”

“Mama climbed higher than all of us.”

Your son looks shocked.

You laugh “He's lying.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“More stories.”

Sabo smiles softly “Alright. Come on, hero. I'll show you where your mom used to hide from us when she was angry.”

You gasp “Traitor.” 

“Historical accuracy is important.”

The little boy immediately points forward “Adventure!”

“Adventure!”

The two disappear further into the forest.

And for a while, you stay where you are, sitting quietly in the grass, thinking about the last few years, about heartbreak, about waiting and about forgiveness.

Life isn't perfect, but it's good.

Then “Mama!”

You look up immediately. Your little hero runs toward you with all the speed his tiny legs can manage.

He almost trips but recovers.

A tiny hand is stretched forward, holding something tightly.

His smile is huge and bright.

Behind him, Sabo walks toward you with a smile of his own.

Your son finally reaches you, breathing hard but proud of himself.

He holds out his hand and shows you a beautiful little flower “For mama!”

Your smile softens immediately and you take it carefully “Thank you, hero.”

He beams.

You turn the flower slowly between your fingers and then you smile.

“You know?”

Your son tilts his head.

“Your dad used to bring me flowers all the time when we were little.”

Sabo laughs quietly behind him.

You look toward your son as if telling him a secret “He always said I was as beautiful as the flowers.”

Your son couldn't possibly care less, instead “Look what dad gave me!”

He proudly shows off his little cape “I'm real hero now!”

You laugh softly “You are.”

He immediately starts running around you with the cape flying behind him dramatically.

Sabo sits beside you on the grass, then he smiles.

He opens his hand and several flowers rest in his palm.

Your eyes widen slightly.

Sabo shrugs “Little me was wrong back then.”

You raise an eyebrow “Oh?”

He smiles softly “You're more beautiful than flowers.”

You laugh immediately, his favorite sound.

Without warning, your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him down with you.

Suddenly both of you are laying on the grass.

Sabo laughs softly.

When you open your eyes again you notice how close he is.

His eyes move between yours and your lips.

Slowly you lean closer and kiss him.

Sabo freezes for a second… because since he came back, there were hugs, smiles and small touches but never this.

Then his hand finds your cheek and he kisses you back.

There's no rush, only love… years of love.

“WAAAAAH!”

Both of you jump apart immediately as reality returns with incredible speed.

Your son sits on the ground a few meters away, looking deeply offended by gravity.

You laugh softly and start getting up, but Sabo gently catches your wrist “I've got this.”

You sit back down, watching Sabo kneel beside your son “Where does it hurt, hero?”

A tiny finger points dramatically toward his forehead.

Sabo inspects the damage seriously.

Then he says “Hey.”

The little boy sniffles.

“It's just a small cut.” Sabo points toward his own scar “Look.”

Your son blinks.

“We're matching now.”

Silence.

Then your son's eyes become huge “Matching?”

“Matching.”

Immediately the tears disappear and your son nods proudly.

Sabo looks toward you and gives you a thumbs up.

You laugh softly and then silently mouth the words "I love you."

Sabo freezes completely.

Your son chooses that exact moment to stand up and unfortunately, he uses Sabo for support.

Sabo loses the battle immediately and falls backwards onto the grass.

“Dad fell!”

Your son points at him triumphantly and you burst into laughter.

Sabo stares at you from the ground, at your smile and at your happiness.

You think you’re gonna die too. Because there’s heat pooling between your legs, and you're pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties, and this was supposed to be your first normal date. Not a panty-ruining, thigh-clenching disaster where you keep imagining his stupid hot fingers pulling your hoodie up and touching you like you're not both trembling virgins about to combust from one misplaced touch.

Satoru’s voice cracks in the dark.

“You, uh— are you okay?”

You look at him, wide-eyed. “What? Yeah. I’m fine.”

He fidgets. “You’re breathing kinda fast.”

You are. Shit.

“I’m just…” you squirm, thighs pressed tight together. “The seats are uncomfortable.”

He makes a strangled little laugh, eyes darting to the screen and then back to your mouth. You don’t know who moves first, but a second later, your hands are brushing in the popcorn bag and boom— your bodies are pressed together like magnets.

The movie is completely forgotten. You’re both leaning toward each other, breathing the same hot air, and it’s dizzying how close he is. His scent is soft and clean, like soap and sugar and some light cologne that makes your thighs ache. Your lips almost brush before he pulls back, cheeks pink.

“I-I gotta pee,” he blurts. Then winces. “Fuck. Not like— fuck, I didn’t mean it like—”

You stare at him, lips parted.

“…Me too,” you whisper. “Bathroom. I mean.”

So of course, of course, ten minutes later, you’re both in the tiny single-stall bathroom behind the snack bar, the door locked, and you’re pressed against the wall with Satoru’s hands hovering an inch from your waist like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch you.

You’re panting.

So is he.

And there’s the faintest bulge pressing against his pants.

“You’re hard,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru turns bright red. “I didn’t mean to be! I swear I wasn’t thinking anything— well I was thinking but not like— well yes like that but I didn’t expect you to—”

“I’m wet.”

That shuts him up.

He blinks. “Wha— You, wait really?”

You nod furiously. “Soaked. I thought I was dying. You’re, l-like— you’re so hot and tall and your hands are big and I thought—”

He sways toward you like he’s being pulled by gravity.

“You think I’m hot?” he breathes, shocked.

Your voice is barely a whisper. “You’re like—the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“…But I’m a virgin.”

You blink. “You’re a virgin?”

He freezes. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. “You’re too confident. And tall. And your voice, like— you talk like you’ve seen shit.”

“I haven’t! I’ve literally never seen anything. I still sleep with a body pillow.”

“Oh my god.”

You both start laughing, but it’s too breathy, too nervous. You’re looking at his lips again.

“I thought you weren’t a virgin,” he admits, voice low now, almost in awe. “You look like— like—”

He waves helplessly at your body. “You’re so pretty. So hot. You look like you’d ruin me.”

“I’ve never even kissed anyone,” you whisper.

“Me either,” he says.

There’s a beat of silent realization.

Then— tentatively— his hands touch your waist. He’s shaking.

“Can I…”

You nod. “Yeah. Please.”

The kiss is terrible. Teeth clashing, noses bumping, your mouths slipping messily before you both pull away with startled laughter. But his face is flushed, and his eyes are glassy, and your thighs are pressed tight together because the way he’s looking at you is not innocent anymore.

“We’re so bad at this,” you whisper.

“I’m gonna die,” he mumbles, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m so wet I think my panties are ruined,” you say, like a confession.

He groans. “That’s so hot, please don’t say things like that unless you want me to cum in my pants.”

You both snort, but neither of you moves away.

“Can I… touch you?” he whispers, barely audible.

Your eyes widen, breath catching.

“…Yes. But I don’t— I don’t really know how.”

“Me either,” he whispers. “Let’s be awkward together.”

You reach for his belt, and he lifts your hoodie just enough to see the swell of your tits in your bra. And then you both freeze, panting, staring— because holy fuck this is actually happening.

Two very horny, very confused virgins. In a bathroom. At the movies.

Grinding desperately like you’re learning each other’s bodies in braille.

His hands find your hips, pulling you closer. Your fingers tremble at his zipper. And you swear— you swear— when your pussy brushes against his bulge through your panties and tights, he nearly whimpers.

You're both gonna combust.

You’re still half-laughing, half-gasping into his neck, your panties damp and sticking to you like sin, and Satoru’s hard dick is pressed against your inner thigh through his jeans like it hurts. He keeps doing these little shaky inhales, fingers digging into your hoodie at the waist like he needs something to hold onto or he’ll float off the planet.

His glasses are fogged. His cheeks are pink. And when you drag your nose along his jaw just to feel him shiver, he makes the softest noise you’ve ever heard. A tiny, broken sigh— like the kind of sound you might make when someone pets your hair just right.

You feel like you’re on fire.

“You’re really… hard,” you whisper, a little dreamy, dragging your hand down the front of his jeans like you’re curious more than anything else. Because you are. You can feel the length of him, thick and hot under the denim, twitching at just the barest touch of your fingers. “Like… all the way.”

“I know,” he whines, quietly. “It’s been like that since the popcorn scene.”

You giggle. “We didn’t have a popcorn scene.”

“You were licking butter off your fingers.”

“…Oh. Yeah okay, fair.”

You’re still staring at the bulge in his jeans. It’s insane. It’s… kind of intimidating, honestly. But you’re so curious, and he looks like he might actually die from the idea of you wanting to see him like this.

“Can I see it?” you whisper.

His breath catches. His whole body freezes.

“You— my… dick?”

You nod shyly, face burning. “Just once. I just— I wanna know what it looks like.”

He stares at you like you’re a mythical creature. “You really want to see it?”

“…Yeah.”

His fingers are shaking as he fumbles with his zipper.

You don’t look away— not even when he shoves his boxers down and his cock bounces free, flushed and heavy and dripping. You make a noise, something halfway between shock and awe, because holy shit he’s big. Not just big— long, curved a little toward his stomach, thick enough that your mouth goes dry. The tip is glossy and wet, a pretty pink color— a clear bead clinging to the slit like he’s leaking from just grinding on you.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, stunned.

Satoru makes a noise that’s not human. “D-don’t look at it like that.”

“I can’t help it,” you breathe. “It’s pretty.”

His brain shuts down.

“Pretty?” he croaks.

You nod dumbly, staring. “It’s like… glossy. And pink. And it’s twitching.”

He groans. “Don’t say twitching—”

“But it is! It’s like it’s waving at me or something. It looks so needy.”

He grabs the wall behind your head like he might collapse.

“You’re so cute,” you whisper. “You’re really hard just from kissing me.”

“You’re soaking,” he counters, voice hoarse. “You’ve been wet for an hour.”

You whimper a little. “I didn’t even know I could get this wet.”

Satoru groans again and cups himself like it’ll stop him from cumming just from talking to you.

You reach out— slowly— and wrap your fingers around the base.

He jolts, hips stuttering forward into your hand like it’s instinct. His eyes flutter shut and his whole body shudders, like he’s never felt anything like this.

“…You’re so warm,” you whisper. “And thick.”

“I’m gonna cum,” he blurts.

You pause. “Wait, already?”

“I told you,” he gasps, pressing his face into your neck. “It’s your voice— fuck, the way you’re touching me—”

You slide your hand up and watch his cock twitch, leaking over your fingers.

He sobs a little. “Angel, please—”

That makes you freeze.

“…Angel?”

He peeks up at you, embarrassed. “It slipped out.”

You bite your lip, then smile, stroking him again. “I like it.”

“You’re so soft,” he moans. “And your hand’s so small, it doesn’t even fit—”

You squeeze a little tighter. He gasps.

“Tell me when,” you whisper, eyes wide. “I don’t wanna waste it. You’ve been hard for so long.”

“‘When’?” he pants.

“Yeah,” you say, breath catching. “I want to see what your cum looks like too.”

He shatters.

Just like that— hot, thick ropes spill out across your fingers, your hoodie, his shirt. You watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his whole body curls toward yours, hips stuttering, voice cracked and pleading into your shoulder. His cock throbs in your hand like it’s losing its mind. He sounds so helpless, so high and soft when he whimpers your name.

You stare at the mess.

“…Whoa.”

He’s panting against your cheek, totally limp. “That was so embarrassing.”

“It was awesome,” you breathe. “I made you cum.”

“I exploded in ten seconds.”

You stroke his hair. “I think you’re perfect.”

He melts a little into your chest.

“…You wanna see me next?” you whisper.

His head jerks up like a prairie dog.

Satoru’s still shaking.

You can feel it— his breath hot and unsteady on your neck, his heartbeat punching against your ribs where your bodies press together. Satoru Gojo just came all over your hand like some desperate teenager, having a wet dream, and you’re still standing in a movie theater bathroom, soaked to the skin and so turned on it’s getting hard to breathe.

His cum is sticky on your fingers. Warm, it smells faintly like salt and sugar, and he’s still leaning against you like he’s not sure how to stand on his own.

And then—

Your voice, soft and daring, nearly a whisper:

“…You wanna see me next?”

Satoru blinks. Eyes blown wide. Mouth parted, in disbelief.

“…Are you serious?”

You nod.

He looks stunned. “Like… your pussy?”

Your whole face burns.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, suddenly nervous. “If you want. I mean— I know it’s— kind of a lot, and maybe messy, but I just… I’ve never… shown anyone." You're looking down at the floor before you finish the rest of that sentence... then your eyes are darting back up to his face, blue eyes stargazed in disbelief. “And I want you to see.”

He’s speechless, Satoru is utterly speechless.

You fidget, heart thudding, tugging your hoodie down like it can hide the way your thighs are trembling, how wet you still are under your panties.

“I just thought… since I saw yours…”

His hand flies up, quick. Cupping your face, both of you look into each other's eyes.

“I want to,” he blurts. “I want to so bad I think I’m gonna die.”

You smile, shy and giddy. “Okay. Then… can you take my panties off?”

He gasps.

Like, actually gasps. Clutches his chest. Staggers backward like you hit him with a spell.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

You reach under your hoodie, slowly rolling your leggings down to your thighs, revealing just a sliver of your pale pink cotton panties, soaked straight through. There’s a wet patch over your pussy— obvious, shiny, and dark.

“Take them off,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Please?”

He looks like he might cry.

“Oh my god,” he chokes. “You’re so wet you soaked through. That’s from me? From just— grinding on me?”

You nod, cheeks flushed. “You made me so wet I couldn’t focus on the movie.”

His hands are on your thighs now, huge and hot, trembling a little as he sinks to his knees in front of you like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. His glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them up, eyes fixed on your panties like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever seen.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers, “but I wanna learn so bad.”

You’re breathing so fast your legs are shaking.

His fingers slide under the sides of your panties. He hesitates.

“Ready?” he asks, voice so soft.

You nod, in eager anticipation, like when you know you're about to rip a band-aid off. But... in this case, it's your soaked sticky ruined panties.

And he pulls them down.

Slow, slow, slow

The cotton clings to your cunt, like they're almost glued to you, but he gets them off with a firmer tug.

Your cunt glosses in the light.

Dripping. Swollen. Slick as fuck and twitching under his gaze. You clench a little just from the air, the tension, the way he’s looking at you like he just saw an angel squirt holy water.

He moans. Moans.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes. “Holy shit, you’re soaked. I didn’t know it could do that.”

You giggle nervously. “It doesn’t usually. I think it’s a you thing.”

He gulps, audibly.

His eyes don’t leave your pussy, even as he leans forward, nose almost brushing your thigh.

“Can I… touch you?”

You feel your knees threaten to buckle.

“Yes.” You say with too much enthusiasm than you meant.

His fingers twitch. “I don’t know how.”

You grab his wrist and guide it...

His middle finger barely grazes your folds and you gasp, clenching, hips jumping forward.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. “That was barely anything. You’re shaking.”

“You touched my clit,” you pant. “It’s sensitive.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Oh my god. I love that you know what it’s called.”

You’re breathless, laughing a little. “I’ve read fanfiction. Have you not?”

“I have, but in those they just say ‘your little pearl’ and shit.”

You groan. “That’s not even close.”

He’s looking again, hand hovering like he’s terrified to mess it up.

“Okay, so… this is your clit,” he murmurs, grazing it again, watching how your whole body twitches. “It’s so tiny. But you sound like I electrocuted you when I touched it.”

You whimper, cause he's teasing... He's curious as well and doesn't fucking know how much him petting your clit actually affects you.

“You like that?” he whispers, a bit entranced. Crystalline blue eyes focusing on the sticky strands of your slick connected to his fingertips as they stretch when he rubs and pulls them off your glued pussylips.

“Y-yeah.”

He touches again, a little firmer... slower, really working your clit, the soft squelches audible, he really wants to taste it, the creamy thing webbing his fingers, the thought pounding in his head.. Would you be grossed out if he just shoved his fingers in his mouth right now and got a taste of that sappy cream?

You whimper louder, snapping his attention back from his lewd thoughts.

His voice is shaking. “Can you c-cum like this? Just from me touching you?”

You nod furiously. “If you keep going, Fuck. Please keep going.”

His thumb brushes you now, a bit more confidently.

“You’re dripping,” he mumbles. “It’s getting on my wrist, angel”

Your thighs snap shut, embarrassed.

But you’re so close and he’s still rubbing in slow, shaky circles and whispering your name and watching you like he’s studying for a test he’s gonna fail with honors. Your clit feels like it’s throbbing. You can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop whining.

And then—

“Cum for me,” he whispers, awed. “Please, please pretty girl, I wanna see.”

That makes your cunt clench, his voice the thing that makes you break instantly.

You clam up around nothing, crying out as your pussy gushes over his hand, wet and twitchy, making a fucking mess on his hoodie sleeve. Your knees give out. He catches you instantly, still on his knees, arms full of shaking, panting girl.

You’re sobbing in relief, thighs sticky, pussy still fluttering, and his hands are holding you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“You’re so amazing,” he breathes. “I can’t believe I made you cum.”

You whimper. “You’re so good. I didn’t think it would feel like that.”

He kisses your thigh.

Then your stomach, and makes his way up and then your lips, just to feel you.

Soft and careful, with utmost devotion and care.

And you melt against him, fucked out and flushed, pressed to his chest.

“…We should do this again,” he mumbles.

“Next time,” you pant, smiling, “I wanna see if you can make me squirt.”

He chokes, on what little air he's breathing.

But you’re still trembling.

Your panties are hanging off one ankle, his cum is drying on your sleeve, and your pussy is throbbing— still fluttering every now and then like your body can’t believe you actually came. You’re slumped against Satoru’s chest, half-limp, while he rubs soft little circles on your lower back like he’s trying to soothe an overstimulated kitten.

Time is passing and neither of you has said anything in the last full minute.

Except him whispering “holy fuck” under his breath every ten seconds like a mantra.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he finally says, voice all hushed reverence. “You came.”

You nod, agreeing lazily. Dazed, and still reeling in the high. “Like… a lot.”

“You squirted.”

“I did not.”

“There was liquid. Splash zone level.”

You slap his chest, giggling, but your thighs twitch. You’re so sensitive you could cry, your clit aches in that perfect, pulsing way that means it wants no more and yet… you’re still soaking wet.

And you feel it. That ache deeper inside you now. Heavy and throbbing. Unused.

Unsatisfied.

You shift against him, face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt, and whisper:

“…Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to put your fingers in me.”

You feel him freeze. Every muscle goes stiff. His hands still on your back. You feel his dick— hard again— press against your thigh like it heard you first.

“Wha— what.”

You look up at him, breath shaky. “You made me cum from the outside. But I’ve never been touched inside.”

His ears go red.

“I— I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You won’t.” You take his wrist, place his hand gently against your mound. “I trust you.”

He swallows hard. You begin to guide his fingers between your thighs again, letting him feel how wet you still are. You gasp a little just from the contact— still sensitive, still twitchy.

His voice comes out hoarse. “You’re soaked.”

“Just go slow,” you whisper. “I wanna know what it feels like.”

He moves down again and actually takes his jacket off and spreads it over the tiles beneath you. He's kneeling like it’s instinct now, reverent and worshipful. Like he belongs on the floor for you. He kisses your inner thigh once, sweet and shaky, then stares between your legs like he’s seeing magic.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says.

You nod, open for him by parting your thighs, trembling ever so slightly.

His fingers sliding along your sappy folds, middle finger inching closer to your hole's opening, more slick gathers and pools as it tries to worm its way in.

You gasp at the feeling.. a bit in fear and uncertainty, but he's so gentle, holding you tighter against him.

His finger begins to push in, your tiny hole fighting him, the intrusion. It's nothing like you've ever felt.

Satoru’s breathing stops entirely.

“You’re tight,” he whispers, stunned. “You’re— fuck, you’re so warm, I can feel your pulse.”

You whimper. “Go slow. Just the tip.”

He pushes a little, and you clench involuntarily, sucking him in just a bit.

He moans. Actually moans. Like you’re the one touching him.

“Angel, you’re gripping me.”

You bury your face in your sleeve, whining. “It’s not fair. Your fingers are big.”

He curls his finger just slightly— experimenting— and your entire body jolts.

“Oh— oh fuck!” you cry out.

His eyes go wide. “Was that— was that good?”

“D-do it again,” you pant.

He does. Gentler, carefully pressing just right, and your walls flutter around him so tightly it’s like your body doesn’t know how to handle it.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles. “You’re sucking me in.”

You grab his wrist. “Try two.”

He stares. “Are you sure?”

“Please, Satoru.”

You’re breathless, begging.

He shivers like it physically affects him.

He slides another finger in— and your pussy stretches around him, tighter than he expected. Your mouth drops open. Your thighs twitch.

“Oh my god,” you gasp.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me— I can’t move,” he moans.

You rock your hips, helping him, whining through your teeth.

It’s deep. It’s thick. He curls again— and you sob, eyes fluttering back.

“There— oh my god there, right there—”

His fingers are hooked now, rubbing that spongey spot deep inside that makes your eyes cross. His thumb finds your clit on instinct, and suddenly you’re wailing, your whole body shaking, your pussy clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move.

You cum again, messier and needy. Your velvet walls constricting his fingers in waves.

And he watches, awed, wrecked. His other hand supporting you as your thighs tremble uncontrollably.

He doesn’t even pull out.

He just whispers, “You’re so beautiful when you cum.”

And you start crying.

Happy tears. Dumb overwhelmed tears. Because no one’s ever touched you like this, seen you like this, loved your body with nothing but his hands and awe.

He kisses your forehead.

You sniffle. “I want you inside me someday.”

He nods. “Me too.”

“…But I might have to train for it.”

He laughs, breathless. “Me too. My heart can’t take this.”

You null away on his chest for a minute. Exhausted by everything your body's endured tonight, your panties still on the floor, his arms still secured tight around you and he press soft kisses to the top of your head.

Eventually when he slowly eases his fingers out of you, you're relaxed, no longer holding them hostage, it slides out with a flurry of slick gushing out, all what's been welling up and stuffed inside your cunt for the entire time.

He rubs it up and down your pussylips then into your clit one last time before he's bringing his fingers to his lips, and moaning as your flavour hits his tongue. Finally, getting a taste of you and he couldn't be more pleased at the tangy-sweetness of it.

Satoru licks his fingers clean, savouring it and after he's the one reaching for your panties, tugging them back up along with your leggings as he tells you softly to, "Raise your hips for me please, angel. Good girl, just like that." You do, and he secures them back in place, cunt still pulsing. Fresh slick soaking your panties again.

Satoru stands first, all long limbs and easy grace and he reaches down for you next. His hands are warm as he pulls you up from the bathroom floor. His jacket lies there still, a dark wet patch blooming where your cunt had soaked through.

Heat floods your cheeks, you're quick to mumble an apology, eyes glassy with leftover pleasure and sudden shyness.

He just chuckles softly. Bends to snatch the jacket up like it’s nothing. He balls it in one hand and tucks it under his arm.

“Shh, angel. It’s fine.”

He cups your face, thumbs brushing your flushed skin. Then he kisses you slow and deep, tasting like sin and sweetness. “One wash and it’ll be brand new. Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t tell you he plans to keep it exactly like this. A filthy little souvenir, from tonight.

His fingers lace with yours as he leads you out of the stall. The movie is long forgotten. He keeps you tucked close against his side the whole way through the emptying theater. The night air hits cool when you step outside.

In the car he drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on your thigh. Possessive and gentle.

Later that night you lie in bed, sheets tangled around your legs. Your phone glows in the dark. Heart hammering, you type the silly questions anyway.

you 🩷 so… are we... dating? omg omg am i your girlfriend now?!

His reply comes instantly.

toru 🩵 i knew we were soulmates when you asked to see my dick aaaand called it "pretty" ilysm angel omg

You giggle into your pillow, face burning. Your chest feels too full. Tonight was crazy. Wild and messy and perfect.

But now one, no two orgasms later and Satoru Gojo is yours. Officially. The nerd from the Doraemon expo.

You fall asleep smiling stupidly into your pillow, already wondering when you’ll feel his hands on you again.

He’d beg to have you again, but he knows he can’t – he knows he needs to stay distant, to be your friend. One night where he let down his guard and whimpered an “I love you” was enough – you both were tipsy, and you were cummin’ too hard to hear it, the little confession.

The next day you were back to normal, but he’d felt you quiver around him, he’d watched you drool as he drilled his cock mean into your hole – tip bruising that cute cervix. Pulling out was a tragedy – but he was happy that fucking condom snapped, sadistic as it was for sweet, nerdy Satoru Gojo.

He wished he could have filled you with all those creampies.

“I made everything weird, yeah? That night-”

“No! No, no, it’s not that. I just…” You trail off, and he feels his heart hammering, pulse racing with nerves. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is anything wrong!?”

“No, yes – well…” You sigh again. “I’m coming over if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe um, smoke some weed first? Have a drink?”

Satoru pauses. “How bad is the news?”

“Just get… relaxed first.”

*****

“You’re… pregnant?” He manages to ask, eyes locked onto you as you pace back and forth in his living room. “You’re sure?”

“I need an official test, but yes,” you keep pacing now, shaking your head, sighing. “I was ovulating, I should have known better. Ugh! And now… Toru, you don’t have to help if I keep it, okay? I don’t want you thinking I like did this to get something, like because you’re rich or-”

“Excuse me?” He stands now, walking to you, gripping your shoulders gently, turning you to face him. “When would I ever think that about you?”

“But so many women would fucking do that to you,” you whisper, eyes full of tears. “And I know you’re scared of that. I know it’s why you’re cautious with dating anyone.”

That’s part of it.

The other part is he compares them all to you.

“I know it’s an accident, fuck I’m just as responsible, I was more than happy to fuck you without one,” you flush then, and he clears his throat. “Sorry, I know we aren’t supposed to bring it up.”

“Hard not to, now,” you sigh, letting him cup your face. “I’m so sorry. Really, I know you have so much on your plate, and-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“You’re taking this way better than I thought,” you admit softly, letting him hug you, sinking against his warmth. “I thought you’d panic, or worse… hate me.”

“I’d never hate you,” he whispers, his mind rushing a million miles a minute – of course it’s scary, and of course he has no clue about kids at all. He doesn’t even know what you’ll wanna do, but fuck if he won’t support his best friend – the girl he’s been pining for secretly for years.

He sure couldn’t bring any of that up now, not when you need support, when you need him to just be there.

“We need to make a doctor’s appointment, yeah?”

“I already did,” you sniffle, and he swipes your tears. “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Of course I do,” his brows draw together. “You’ve known me since we were babies almost, you really think I’d let you do this alone?”

“I knew you wouldn’t, but to resent me,” you trail off now, emotions burning in your throat. “I really always wanted one. Not now, but, I did.”

“Yeah, me too,” you blink a bit. “Didn’t know that?”

“You never talked about it to me,” you sniffle again, nausea suddenly hitting you, making you sway a bit. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna…” you rush off then to one of his bathrooms, not one of your finer moments, and as a best friend always does, he holds your hair while you’re sick – it’s not like he hasn’t done it at high school keg parties, or the beginning of college for you – but it’s been a while since you’ve needed it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, please,” he sighs now, standing. “I’ll get you something for your tummy, you have a toothbrush you can use under the sink, okay?”

“Thank you, Toru,” you hang your head as he walks out, soon you’re on his couch with your legs over his thighs, you all frequently sit like that – but now everything is different. He’s got you nibbling on saltines, and a ginger ale – he’d door dashed them so fast you were surprised.

Then you found out it wasn’t doordash – it was just Ijichi.

Poor Ijichi, really, but you suppose he’s paid well to be at Gojo’s beck and call all the time.

“Eat it,” Satoru commands quietly, studying you. “It’ll help.”

“I’ll throw it up again.” You nibble, little teeth marks on the cracker as you try to chew it a bit. “I keep getting sick.”

“How will you grow a baby if you don’t eat, hmm?” His words hit hard, the sweetness in them, the way he’s looking right at you. “Chew.”

“Yes sir,” you mumble, chewing again.

“Swallow.”

“Don’t say that!?” You’re choking almost on that cracker now as he snorts, smirking just a bit and leaning close.

“Oh, why not? Mind somewhere?” He teases, as if it’s just another day, and watches you get all flustered, playfully shoving him. “Perv.”

“Me!? You got me pregnant!”

“Well, you told me to keep going.”

“You little shit,” he shoves the ginger ale can in your hand again, narrowing those baby blues.

“Drink.”

“Just don’t say swallow, god,” he snorts and rolls his eyes a bit, leaning back on the couch, you see it’s getting dark outside now. “I need to head back soon.”

“Just stay,” it was normal to stay, before that night, before you knew how good his lips felt on your shoulders, his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck, cock railing your cunt from behind.

It was not normal anymore.

You look at his lips, wondering what it would be like to press yours on them, they were soft on your skin, but things were so hasty you both didn’t do that. Probably for the best, they were too plump and glossy, unfairly pretty like all of Satoru Gojo was, really, best you don’t even think of it.

“I should go,” you finally manage to say, and Satoru frowns. “I really have a lot to do tomorrow with work.”

Work.

He forgets you have your summer job, concern hitting his features then. “In your condition?”

“I’m barely pregnant, silly,” you playfully push him again, standing now. “I will see you at the appointment?”

“Of course,” he hugs you a little too long at the door, he can tell you’re fucking terrified as you hug him back, but…

Satoru’s not upset, at all actually.

Instead, he orders anything and everything a baby could need, and a million baby books, studying everything there was to know, picturing it all.

No, he was…

Excited.

Terrified but fucking excited to think of it – of the one girl he’s always loved carrying his baby, but he tries to rein it all in, the last thing he needs to do is pressure you either way with any decision. So instead, when you text him the details and a little good night with a heart, he simply writes back –

See you then. Night, sweetheart 

Before studying again like a little psycho all night – by the time your visit comes, Satoru Gojo is an entire fucking expert on everything pregnancy related, in fact. What else was a best friend for, really, if not to support you with everything?

And if in the next week he jerks it hopelessly to the thought of fucking you and cumming in you, well…

He can’t really help that.

*****

The next week

The gel is cold against your skin as the doctor spreads it across your stomach with the little wand, your shirt slid up to your chest, showing a tummy still mostly flat.. Gojo sits beside you, his hand clenched in yours, his face paler than usual despite how supportive he is being.

You've both been quiet since arriving at the doctor, even in the back of his car as his driver brought you, there was not much said. He tried to lighten the mood by showing you videos of dumb things, but when it didn’t work, and he knew you needed the quiet? He gave you it, just keeping a hand touching your thigh the entire ride.

Comforting, he was comforting you – as the reality of this situation was sinking deeper with each passing moment.

A baby.

Would you have it? Would you keep it? Part of you has always loved kids, but you never expected to be a mother yet, especially not being married or at least with someone. Not your best friend – and was he still going to be that? Would he resent you for your decision, would-

"Alright, let's see what we can find," the doctor says, moving the wand across your belly and thankfully cutting off your thoughts. “Hmm… let’s try here.”

You stare at the screen as he delves lower, pressing a bit on your pelvis – your heart is pounding so quickly you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. There's just static for some time, and you feel yourself getting sick as Satoru watches with you, seeing the shape of your uterus right on the screen.

Fuck - what if something’s wrong!? What if…

“Hey,” Satoru smiles at you, feeling your panic – he’s always known you so fucking well, and now is no different. He runs his thumb across your knuckles softly. “Hear that?”

“No I…” There it is.

A flicker. A tiny, rapid fluttering on the screen, and the sounds, little whooshes quickly echoing in the room, it’s so fast, you can’t take what it does to you in that moment, feeling tears in your eyes. “See?”

“A heartbeat…” You whisper, he grins all big, his teeth white and bright, that smile fucking ruining you.

Another pregnancy symptom?

Apparently being too fucking horny – and being around Gojo made everything a million times worse. Did he have to be so attractive? Did he have to smell so damn good? Did he have to hold your hand like this with his pretty blue eyes glittering, like he’s got it all together when you don’t?

How were you ever just his friend before, you always had something for him, sure. High school crush, college crush, puppy love – but through it all you always knew that friendship was the most important thing. Yet now you know what it’s like for him to grip your hips, to hold you, to bend you over and break you apart on him. To have his body on top of you.

How could you forget it when you’ll be seeing him constantly for years?

"That's the heartbeat," the doctor says with a smile, shaking you out of your heated thoughts. "Strong and healthy. Looks like you're about ten weeks along."

Tears spring to your eyes as you turn to look at Satoru, seeing his own are affixed now to the screen, his lips slightly parted. He looks from the screen to your stomach, then back again, his expression one of pure awe.

"Is that… that’s the baby?”

“Yes, it’s hard to see this early,” the doctor takes a few pictures, it’s a tiny, moving little thing, so small it’s hard to tell.

“That's our baby,” you whisper, then curse softly. “I mean…”

“Shh,” Satoru murmurs, his own heart hammering so fast he almost feels faint. He was of course nervous, but seeing it and seeing you – the girl he’s loved as long as he can remember? He can’t help his dopey fucking grin. “It is.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, all pretty, flushed cheeks, blushing when Satoru offers to clean the gel off your tummy and you sit up, it squishes just a bit, making you curse. “Ugh, already.”

“You look perfect,” he says it before he can stop himself, his hand moving gently to wipe your skin clean, you look down, thighs pressing together, as his eyes flick to yours. “You’ll be pretty, all pregnant.”

“No way, my mom got huge and I will too!”

“So? It’s part of that,” you frown again. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” He tilts your chin as you slide your shirt down.

“What’s going on in your mind right now?”

“That I’m selfish, self centered to think of my body,” you pout a bit. “Stretch marks, titties getting so big, tummy huge. God, my ankles will too! My friends have all been so miserable, ugh. And I should worry less about that, and more about how I’ll raise this damn baby. Am I…”

“Shh,” he kisses your temple now, and you lean against him, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re in your early twenties, pretty normal to be worried about your body changing, I don’t think that’s selfish. Okay?”

“You always make me feel better,” you snuggle against him, loving this too fucking much, inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth.

“What are friends for? Besides… getting you pregnant I mean.”

“Satoru!”

“Well…” You snort and shove at him, shaking your head. “When’s the next appointment?”

“Two weeks for a physical type check… do you…”

“I’ll be there.”

*****

The next physical went great, and Satoru’s been reading even more baby books – you’d decided to keep it and had let him know it was his choice, of course, if he wanted to be involved. Because this was both your choices.

Of course Satoru did.

There was no world he’d ever let you do this alone and not support you – though he doesn’t tell you exactly how excited he really is, he is so nervous in these moments, especially knowing how scared you still are. So he tries to be comforting, reassuring, there for you.

He was right there on time, taking you there, and fuck he looked good. He had on this sweater that was so soft you wanted to snuggle against it, that cologne in your senses, almost making you salivate.

Fuck.

As if you didn’t want him before, at three months pregnant it was worse than ovulation, it was like you needed to cum constantly. You’d played with your pussy every day to avoid this, to hope that you could act normal with him, but when he’d brushed this tiny stretch mark on your skin and smiled?

When he’d murmured cute.

When he held the door open for you, sliding in and talking about everything he’s researched on babies? Well, that’s when it’s almost fucking impossible to control, thighs pressed together with your hands between them, as if you can keep yourself from touching him somehow on the drive back.

You're impossibly quiet in the back seat of his sleek black car, Ijichi drives Gojo everywhere, you’re not even sure Satoru can drive – there’s no point really though. You don’t blame him one bit, but it was always pretty fucking cool in school to get those rides home with him – memories twist and blur just a bit as he brushes a lock of your hair back, smiling at you.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to discreetly press your thighs together even more, to not just straight up whine out from the friction, but it's no use. You're so  horny it hurts, your panties soaked to all hell, your clit pulsing with need, literally twitching from his proximity.

What sort of pregnancy thing was this? This wasn’t in a book.

"You okay, sweetheart?” Satoru asks softly now, glancing over at you. "You've been squirming, are you uncomfy? I think cramps can still happen – and your back can hurt from it. I can rub it?"

“No! I mean!? No!? I mean…” You curse, shaking your head. "I'm fine is all I meant!”

“Fine?” You nod quickly, making him sigh. “Am I being too touchy with you? Offering to-”

“No, no. God I appreciate you so much, never,” you mumble, shaking your head. “It’s not that at all.”

“Okay…” He exhales now.

“You thought that?”

“You’re so tense around me,” he brushes his hand against your thigh softly. “Like you’re clenched up, I worried I…”

“No… I’m just… not okay.”

"What's wrong?" he asks, brows furrowing just a bit. "Are you in any pain or anything? I need to know if you are."

"Not exactly," you admit, your cheeks flushing, burning fucking hot, god is this car just hot!? Is his skin burning!? "It's just... I'm really... uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable how? I can turn up the AC, and you can lean on me?”

You hesitate a bit, he’s being so fucking sweet, and you feel like a deviant right now. Your brain is on nothing but how long his fingers are, how good they’d feel inside you, fuck when you’d been together you’re not sure he touched you much. He had slipped them in for a moment but you were so needy you had begged him to put it in.

Oh and that stretch.

But they’re long, and they’re thick, thumb brushing your thigh. You sigh, shutting your eyes again.

“You know you can tell me anything, yeah? Known you since the fucking fifth grade, now is not time to get shy.”

“Right…” You take a shaky breath. “It’s embarrassing."

“Okay, how?”

"I'm horny," you blurt it out, watching his own blush, cursing a bit. "Like, painfully horny. I feel like I will jump you, straddle you, fuck your hands are so big and… Satoru, were they always this big!?”

“Were they…” He laughs nervously. “What?

“Were they always this big – and why do you smell like that?” He blushes brighter as you lean forward, your hand covering his. “I’m going to lose it, I can’t act like this, but it’s like I’m going to die if I don’t cum. I’m wet from nothing.”

Oh fuck.

He can’t take that, looking at you as you lean forward, your tits are right in his view, that sleeve falling off your off shoulder sweater, showing too much of your pretty skin. He swallows nervously, it takes everything not to just drag you on his lap and pump you full of cum.

God, what would your nipples look like dripping milk? How big and full would your tits get? He feels like he’s the pervert, and you’re over here worrying, he can see it as you pull back just a bit.

"Oh. That's... that's a thing? With pregnancy?” He tries to act calm, cock throbbing.

"Apparently," you mutter, shifting again. "And it's fucking awful right now, I am not trying to be… distant, okay? I…”

The car hits a bump and you whine out.

“Ugh!” You cover your face, Satoru is quiet for a moment, then clears his throat, taking your hands down slowly, making you look at him. “This is embarrassing!"

“Nah, it’s… just…” He swallows a bit, nervous as his fingers wrap around your delicate wrists. "I could... I mean, if it would help... I could help you out. As a friend if you um… want? As… a baby daddy… friend or-"

You blink then. "What?"

"Just... to take the edge off I could help you feel better," he murmurs, his cheeks still slightly flushed, eyes dark. "I helped you get in this state, I could at least help you with this, to make you cum, hmm?”

“Make me cum?” You’re trembling a bit at that. “Like and… it’s fine with you?”

“Is it fine with me,” he laughs a bit, shaking his head, tilting your chin up. “You askin’ if I have a problem making you cum for me?”

“I just,” you bury your face against his chest, his hand slipping up your thigh achingly slow. “Make me cum how?”

“You keep staring at my hands, do you want my fingers inside you?” You suck in a breath, burying your face again, feeling his thumb brushing your skin. “What else is your best friend for, hmm?"

“Satoru,” you laugh softly, biting down on your lip, peeking over at the partition. “Would he hear?”

“You were loud,” you gasp and playfully shove at him. “I’m kidding… kind of. You really were.”

“I’ll be a little quiet,” you whisper. “You were loud too.”

“Brat, tch,” you giggle, and it feels perfect.

Satoru is your best friend.

Satoru got you pregnant.

Now Satoru Gojo’s fingers are sliding up your thighs, his fingertips tugging at the waistband of those leggings, you love wearing them lately, with your body already changing just a bit. “Are you sure you want me to?”

“Yes,” you whisper, a hand slipping up his chest, shaky just a bit as his fingertips slip lower. “Helping me as my friend.”

“Best friend.”

“Best ever,” you whisper – delusional – nodding so he has the okay, his fingers are just a bit hesitant at first, gently tracing the edge of your panties before slipping underneath, finding you. “Mnh!”

You gasp as his fingers brush against your folds, already slick with arousal, embarrassingly so in fact – so wet the squelch is loud as he darts it up your slit, Satoru moans softly, looking into your eyes and slipping lower. His fingertip dips in, and even more slick drips out, your panties already sticky, he lets out a little hum, running them up, studying you.

"Fuck," he murmurs, voice breathy. "You weren't kidding, you’re soaked, sweetheart, hmm?”

You shake your head in response, spreading your thighs wide for his fingers to explore you, he finds your clit easily, circling it gently and all teasing, making you whine out in frustration before applying more pressure, drawing patterns like he had that night months ago.

“Satoru!” You whisper it, trying to keep quiet as you arch against his hand, a desperate whine escaping your lips again, hands gripping at his sweater too tightly.

"Like that?" he asks, his voice soft, god does he have to sound like that? You’re trying to keep it together, but the faster his fingers rub your twitchy lil clit, the worse.

"Yes, y-yes like that I…. mhm!”

He knows your body, he has no problem sliding two in deep, curving up and letting the heel of his palm graze your needy clit, squishing noises even louder as he watches you, waiting for you to fall apart for him.

“So wet,” he murmurs, moving faster. “You’re close, hmm?”

You nod quickly, letting him lean forward – as if he may kiss you, just hovering a centimeter away as he works your cunt, lifting his chin and looking down at you, eyes hungry and bright blue.

“Then cum, let go,” he whispers, and you do it like on command, earning his soft, murmured praise, orgasm rushing through you until you’re high from it, resting your face against his neck.

“Toru,” you breathe out, eyes shutting, the orgasm so much better than what you can do yourself.

"Better?" he asks softly, pulling his fingers back just a bit, eyeing that slick and moaning. “Fuck…”

"Much better,” you mumble, seeing that amount of slickness and panicking. “Oh god sorry…”

“For what? Being soaked?” He smirks a bit. “No need.”

“I um…” He sucks your cunt off his fingers, making your lips part at the filthy little act, something you’ve never seen with any other partner.

He just tasted your cunt, his cheeks hollowing.

“I um… you uh…” Words. Use words. “I… th-thhank you?"

"Anytime," he says with a small smile, chuckling a bit as your flavor hits his tastebuds. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you hurt like that?”

“Right, you’re winning the best friend – baby daddy award,” he snorts, and the two of you act fine, act as if this was just that.

You’re both too fucking scared to admit what it really is.

*****

A month later

You're staying over at Gojo's place again – it's become more frequent since the pregnancy was confirmed. The two of you spend a lot of time together, preparing a bit or just enjoying each other’s company. You had to tell your families, which was not an easy conversation, especially with Satoru’s parents.

They’d been appalled quite frankly, Satoru was supposed to marry who they wanted him to, they were anything if not distant and terrible as long as you knew him. You’d held his hand that night during that dinner, and asked if he wanted you to stay over again, quiet as you both drove home.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured softly, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, I expected much worse.”

“I still want to,” you had said, kissing his cheek, your eyes fluttering shut, his hand had instinctively touched your tummy, getting rounder now, something so intimate and sweet it almost broke you.

You hated going home alone.

There were plenty of rooms – but tonight you couldn’t just sleep in one, tossing and turning until you got up in the middle of the night, peeking to see Satoru asleep, sprawled across his bed with his lankly limbs – the sheets tangled around his waist. You watch him for a moment, you’ve seen him asleep countless times, but everything lately has felt so different.

“Toru?”

“Hmm?” He opens his eye and turns, peeking at you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

His voice is all raspy with sleep, making your heart flutter. God he’s even cuter, leaning up in the dark, brushing a hand through his hair with a sleepy smile. “Could I sleep in your bed?”

“You want the comfiest one, hmm?” He teases, holding up the blanket for you to crawl in beside him. “Come closer.”

“You sure?” He nods, tugging you against him and sighing, burying his face in your neck. “Will it be too much?”

“No, not at all,” he feels so good, he’s so warm, his body against yours. “Get some sleep.”

But sleep still eludes you, you instead can’t stop thinking of how badly you crave not any kind of food or drink like a normal pregnant girl.

You’re craving Satoru.

God, thinking of that hardness pressing against you in your mouth, to taste him for once, feel him harden on your tongue and pulse. Swallow him down, suck him till he’s whimpering, cumming over and over?

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, hmm?” He teases you again. “I feel your brain whirling over there.

“I’m having an odd craving,” you mumble, turning over to him now, he raises a brow at you, yawning.

“I’ll order whatever, what is it?”

“You can’t order it,” you bite your lip now, and he laughs.

“You want me to make you cum again?”

“No.”

“No?” You slide down the bed, gently pulling back the sheets a bit, and his breath catches in his throat. He's only wearing boxers, and you can already see the outline of his cock, thick and growing, a little dark spot where pre is slipping. “Oh you… you’re craving…”

“I really want your cock in my mouth.”

Is Satoru fucking dreaming!?

He wonders as he blinks rapidly at you, your fingertips trailing his abdomen, making them tense. “You want my cock in your mouth?”

“Yeah, that sounds insane. I want…” You sigh. “Cum.”

“Cum!? Is that even safe!?”

“I don’t know, that’s not in a book!” You pull back now, sighing. “God I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t go,” he catches your wrist quickly, tugging you against him. “I would never turn down your mouth, you fuckin’ kidding?”

“You sure?”

“Am I sure,” he shuts his eyes, trying not to act as eager as he really is, and completely failing. “In what world does anyone turn that down? Especially from you.”

“You want it then?” You whisper, reaching out to trace the length of him through the soft fabric, he whimpers just a bit, the sound making you ache.

“You really wanna suck me till I cum? You don’t want like… ice cream with pickles or something?” You laugh softly, shaking your head, and he tugs you more, your hair falling against his skin, brushing his thigh. “Yeah, go ahead then, sweetheart. You can suck me any time you need.”

“Oh can I?” His hand brushes your hair back reverently as he tugs his cock out, he’s close to telling you he’s in love just when you kiss his flushed tip, tongue lapping to grab a little bit of white.

“Anytime,”he murmurs again instead, watching as you gently take the tip of him into your mouth, hot and wet. “Fuck…”

“Mnh,” you’re aching as you eye him, and his hand entangles gently into your hair, easing your head down so you can taste him – clean and slightly salty with the white coating your tastebuds. You moan softly as you take more of him in, your tongue swirling around to hit his frenum, making his hips buck up.

“God… so this is really your pregnancy craving?"

You hum around him in response, which makes him groan, thickening in your mouth as you move up and down, reaching for your pussy and touching it, letting him fuck into your throat, pausing then.

“Is it too much?”

You pull back with a messy pop, shaking your head. “I want it.”

“Fuck you’re pretty like this,” he whispers, his hand gentle but firm on the back of your head as you work him with your mouth, taking him deeper with each pass until he's hitting the back of your throat, and you’re gagging on him. “Takin’ me like that? So fucking good, doin’ s’good I…”

He’s mumbling, stuttering as he fucks your throat – just like you were dying for, making you suck harder, aching to taste all of him. Him whispering your name as you drool down his balls, his tip gliding past your uvula, while your fingers fuck in and out of your needy cunt.

“You’re touching her?” He asks softly, you hum in response, he’s lost at how good your throat feels, how tight with every little gasp. “Sucking me has you that needy, hmm?”

“Mhm,” you suck even harder, and he fears he won’t last long, not when you’re cumming, shaking and your throat is contracting, his thick length stretching it so good.

“Want all of that cum in your throat?” He whispers hoarsely, you moan again, eyes looking up under your lashes as he holds your hair in a ponytail. “I’ll give you all of it, then, sweetheart.”

He is not quiet when he cums, no, Satoru Gojo moans – husky and fucking loutd as his hips buck up, and he’s busting his creamy release. It’s spilling down your throat, and you greedily swallow every drop, slurping it all as he gently fucks your throat a few more times, whining out, sensitive.

You take your fingers of your cunt, slick and messy, sucking him up and down, still semi hard, eyes locked on his.

You just sucked Satoru Gojo’s cock.

Your friend since fifth grade.

You pull off, a thick string of saliva and cum dissolving from your licks, as your little pink tongue then gently licks him clean.

“You’re so perfect I…” He trails off, swallowing nervously and then tugging you up. “C’mere.”

You gasp as you land on his chest, and he wraps an arm around you, kissing your lips, tasting his own cum right off you.

You haven’t even kissed Satoru yet.

That’s what’s insane, you’ve gotten pregnant, you’ve fucked him, came on his fingers, but it was as if you both knew the kiss would ruin you, and it does, desperate, needy and sweet. How his hand tangles in your hair, and his lips move, plump and soft against yours.

That’s when the inevitable fact hits your heart – you didn’t just crave cum in your mouth, you wanted to make him feel good, wanted him to fall apart for you, his tongue glides on yours and you can’t help but sigh into his mouth. You lean up a bit, hands on his chest, a smile so big and goofy on his face you melt.

“So, was that just a craving?”

“Were your fingers just helping a friend out?” You ask, he laughs and shakes his head, cupping your face.

“What do you think?” You bury your face nervously, letting him hold you against his body, your heart racing.

“I think everything is insane. And scary and… I don’t ever, ever want to lose you, Satoru.”

“You won’t,” he whispers, kissing gently across your cheek, to your temple, but the words still don’t make it from his lips.

I love you.

It’s like they’re stuck, until you’re fast asleep, and he murmurs them like he did that night you conceived your baby.

*****

It goes on like that, sucking Satoru for your oral fixation, and fuck he’s not complaining, but soon it’s not enough, neither is you letting him finger you when you’re aching. You’re so sexy with your tummy swelling, and your tits so full, your face is glowing and your goddamn eyes are glittering.

You are sinking to your knees after work at your place when he halts you, shaking his head, making you pause.

“Oh um, not today?”

“You stand here,” he says instead, kneeling and making you blush, looking up at you under his snowy lashes. “I want to taste you this time.”

“Toru, you c-can’t… I’m getting big already and-”

“You’re perfect,” you melt when he gently slides up your dress, groaning when he sees your slick, pretty pussy. “Call it my pregnancy craving.”

“You got ‘em too, hmm?” he laughs softly, tickling your skin.

“Why don’t you sit down and spread your thighs,” you obey him – how can you not – sitting at the edge of the bed, eyeing the reflection of you both in your mirror for just a moment, the sight as filthy as it is sweet, worshipping you when he kisses up your inner thigh. “Good girl.”

“You can’t just say that, Toru,” he doesn’t know what it does until this very moment, when he spreads your plump lips, watching the slick pool down, so fucking pretty. His hand brushes up the curve of your tummy, tongue gathering that mess and drinking it with a greedy bob of his Adam's apple. “Mnh!”

“Fuck,” Satoru’s lost now – hand adjusting his straining erection, his other slipping higher, squishing a tit, feeling the weight of it in his palm as he looks up at your body, your face, head falling back.

You’re too pretty pregnant.

All he can think is how he’s almost glad you are right now, he knows it was an ‘accident’ but he’s so fucking happy, having you with him all the time, having your touch, your nearness. Seeing all the changes and knowing in this way the two of you are connected, a toxic little thought nagging at him that he’d love to do it again, next time on purpose.

Maybe he’s very happy pulling out didn’t work, and that the condom broke, when his fingers press into your thighs, and he’s greedily slurping at your cunt now. All gentleness lost as your flavors hit, ones he’s had little hints of at best, watching you suck him was amazing, but Satoru thinks he loves this just as much if not more, drinking your cunt up as you tremble, as you fall apart.

“I’m c-close, fuck I’m…” You’re pressing your thighs on either side, he pulls back, your wetness making his face glisten.

“Hold ‘em open,” he murmurs softly, you prop your feet up on the bed as he sinks further onto the plush of your rug. “Just like that.”

“I’m spread wide though…”

“And you were when I got you this way,” he grins as you blush. “You wouldn’t let me touch you, it was just – in me.”

“Well I wanna say it again,” you admit softly. “But also…”

You tug his hair, bringing his face against you, his moans vibrating on your messy, sensitive clit. Satoru slides two fingers in and fucks them in your hole, slick and drooling onto the carpet with every thrust, his mouth sucking your little clit inside it. A few more flicks and hums, and you’re shattering, cumming so hard you squirt all over him, soaking his shirt.

“Fuck…” He looks at you in wonder, you gasp, covering your face.

“Oh god!? I’ve never…”

“Good,” he is possessive then, as he stands up, sliding your dress until it’s off you completely, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “I’m glad if I made you first.”

“Are you getting possessive of your ‘friend’?” You tease – you both know the word is nonsense at this point, but you’re also scared to say more.

That you’re in love with him.

“Maybe I am…” He admits, his voice breathy and sensual, as you taste yourself, the sweetness from his mouth mixing with your own flavor, addictive. “Maybe I wanna pump you full of me, hmm? Maybe I’ve been wanting to.”

“Then do it,” you whisper, eagerly tugging down his zipper, seeing just how hard and thick he is. “Cum in me.”

“Fuck, seriously!?” You giggle a bit at that, nodding. “What position though? Can you… be on your back? Can you…”

“You didn’t read that part, hmm?” You tease him then, laying back and seeing how his eyes darken, his pretty tip leaking. “I can, but no weight on the tummy at this point so…”

“Got it,” he whispers, hands on your hips, standing between you as you lay there, thighs wide, your mess dripping in rivulets still from your thighs, when his tip hits your slit you both take a breath.

“Ah!” You’re so sensitive during this stage of pregnancy, you almost cum from a rub, embarrassing as it was to squirt on his damn face, you can still see where you soaked his shirt as he leans down, careful not to put weight on you. “Sensitive…”

“Yeah, are you, baby?” You nod quickly, he keeps rubbing it, like to torture you, kissing you while holding himself up and standing, achingly sweet even as his fat cockhead is going faster between your folds. “Yeah you are – gonna cum like this, hmm? Like that night?”

“You r-remember?” You mumble, losing control of your senses, clinging to his biceps, nails pressing over his shirt, Satoru sighs, kissing you again, as you feel your body tense up.

“Of course I remember,” your eyes meet, and you can’t help but shatter with another glide of his tip against your slit, impossibly more squirt spraying him. “God you’re wetter than before. Is that even possible?”

“In me, fuck… stop teasin’ me…” You are already cockdrunk from his tip, and he knows it – smirk on his handsome face. “Toru!”

“Lemme take my time, know how long I’ve waited?” You can’t answer, not when he glides his cock in, careful when in three thrusts he bottoms out, waiting for you to adjust. “Feel so fuckin’ good… you’re soaked…”

“Mhm,” your thighs tremble, he is easing back, his hands trailing down your changing body in a way that should make you nervous.

But you just want more.

“Beautiful…” He whispers, easing back and looking at the mess with every slow stroke, how your puffy lips are moving around his thickness, coated his raised veins till they’re glittery. “Look at you, sweetheart. These tits, so full, I can’t wait till there’s milk dripping.”

You whine out then, eyes rolling back as he begins to move, standing and lifting you just slightly, angling your hips so his cock can rub right on your sweet spot, hitting the little sponginess of it over and over in sweet little kisses. You shatter again, and again, cumming so much you get dizzy, your ears ringing, his cock filling you and stretching you more than you thought you could take.

He’s whispering your name in a way that’s nothing like ‘a friend’ or even a baby daddy, the way he says your name as he rests a hand on your ribcage, the other on your hip, fucking into you? It’s filthy, it’s loving, it’s everything and anything but how he’s said it your whole life, and yet…

It’s still the way he said it the day he met you.

When he first learned your name, the two of you became friends, and he shared his lunch with you because you forgot to make your own. The way when he took you home after school, and when he’d hold open that umbrella, the two Satoru Gojos meld – that one, and this one, a man fucking you up, holding you, his shirt half slid up from your hands.

“Off, off,” you tug impatiently and he laughs, doing just that, letting you touch his abdomen, his chest, gripping his obliques when he starts to move faster. “Ah!”

“Y-you okay, sweetheart?” He manages, pausing then. “Am I too…”

“Love it,” you mumble instead, shaking now. “Love it, please… more…”

“I’ll give you anything when you ask so sweet,” he eases out and you gasp, scowling at him. “I’m just going to make you more comfy, don’t you glare at me.”

“I said more and you… oh…” He’s gently putting a little pillow underneath your hips now, and you sigh, lashes fluttering. “That is better.”

“Mhm, impatient girl,” he glides back in, hitting your spot even better, every drag of his tip having you closer and closer. “You sure you want my cum? You wanna be so full of me it drips out all day?”

“Yes,” it’s automatic, your answer, Satoru whines out then, his cheeks all flushed, his eyes lidded and heavy – you feel him pulsing inside, he’s so big in your slick, messy walls. “Please… cum inside I… mnh!”

“Fuck,” Satoru gives you just that – all his milky cum, coating your walls in white, trembling as you milk him for every drop.

Oh, and when he sees that mess pouring from your pretty cunt? Well he can’t help but fuck it back inside, but this time with you on your knees, your head resting on the bed as he holds your body up. Watching the thick coating of his own white release slipping down his cock, his balls heavy again.

He gives you more of it – more of him, desperately whimpering in your ear, cum getting fucked back inside, whispering those treacherous words that you didn’t hear last time. But this time you do, you turn your head, drool spilling, eyes all fucked out – Satoru swipes your drool as he busts his load deep in you again, three now just getting fucked deeper, slipping from the mess you both are.

“You l-love me?” You mumble, brows drawn together. “Is that like… just talk during it or…”

“I love you,” he whispers again, a little louder, seeing your eyes glimmer. “Not just because I’m buried inside you and pussy drunk, no. I do love you. God I do.”

“I love you too, Toru,” you whisper, letting him kiss you, drinking his sighs and moans in as he gently rocks his still hard cock inside, in the stuffed full, creamy mess he’s made of you. “I love you too.”

It’s whispered over and over, when he’s showering you, helping you shave, being so gentle and sweet – like he wasn’t just railing your pussy, like he wasn’t fingering his cum back in. No, it’s perfect, the way you can finally not call Satoru Gojo just your friend anymore.

*****

You had a baby with your best friend by accident – but it’s anything but a mistake, in fact when you’re holding her in your arms and smiling at her, seeing the same blue eyes you’ve loved your whole life? When Satoru’s making a bottle downstairs and you’re rocking in the chair in the nursery he had made?

When she’s all milk drunk later in your arms and Satoru is laughing at her little face, brushing her cheek with his thumb? You know it was all for some reason, even if it’s a little too soon, and even if you’re not fully ready yet – you know it’s perfect here, having him kiss your head, sighing and looking at her.

“She’s so cute like this,” he says softly, brushing some of her downy hair that’s forming, you ease the bottle and she is still sucking. “She needs a binky?”

“Mhm,” he hands you one, and you slip it in her mouth, grinning all big up at Satoru now. “She looks so much like you. I’m not sure my genetics tried.”

“Well, I do have Gojo genes,” he’s all puffing his chest, you can’t help but giggle, before wincing a bit at the pain. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Still sore,” you admit, he gently takes her and places her in the pretty little bassinet, swaddling her up tightly before coming to you, helping you up. “Thank you… Toru, thank you for everything. I was scared at first, but…”

“I was too,” he admits, peeking down at you – still so beautiful, but the strain of having her has taken it’s toll. You’ve got dark circles, and your color isn’t all back yet, he picks you up before you can stop him.

“Toru!”

“You’re taking a nap.”

“I can walk!”

“I know,” he holds you anyway, you yawn and bury your face against his neck, lashes tickling his skin. “I love her so much.”

“I do too,” you admit, giggling. “So much I almost want another.”

“Another, hmm?’

“Not any time soon!” He just grins as he lays you down. “You deviant, don’t even think about it for at least two years!”

“Sure, I wasn't thinking about it at all,” he sighs as he sees your nipples dripping though, thumb brushing over one, tasting it. “Oh it’s sweet.”

“You little freak,” you tease, but you let him have just a taste, a little flick of his tongue before he tugs up your top. “Take a nap with me.”

“All right,” he is tired too, just trying to keep wide awake for you, but when he cuddles you to him, and feels you against him, he can’t stop his grin.

He got his best friend pregnant by accident – but the next time will absolutely be on purpose.

patreon <3 comms

You obey easily, blushing a bit, his hands brushing oil on your tits, making your lashes flutter shut, covering up just a bit.

"Don't, you're sexy.."

You blush even more if that were possible, breasts rising and falling as his huge hands knead that flesh, plucking at your nipples. Satoru moves to stand right over your head, the view of his cock tenting his pants fucking you up.

"You're getting the highest tip," he snorts at that.

"Oh?" He's gliding more oil across your tummy, leaning over to part your thighs and eye your slick pussy, hesitating just a bit - this is where he likes to let the clients guide him. "Put my hand where you want."

"Oh..." your heart hammers in your chest as you slip it down further, he lets out a soft little moan when his fingertips are right between your slit. "Mnh!"

"You don't need any oil there," he muses softly, teasing fingers slipping up your slit, making you jolt as they toy with your twitchy clit. Your hips arch as he teases your entrance, slick pouring from your little hole down his fingers. "So wet already, we just started the massage.... your little cunt is so needy."

All you manage is your eyes rolling back in your skull - your man just never made you cum, and your own fingers didn't feel close to as good as those five inch fingers did.

You swear they're bigger than your ex's cock.

Rough fingertips dip in your slick just to the first knuckle, slutty little moans escape your throat at it.

"Feel good?" He murmurs softly, one hand holds your thigh apart, the other swirls around your messy cunt and sliding in. "You're so tight here, too, I think need to loosen you up."

"Please," this slutty masseuse with pretty blue eyes pumps your pussy full - stretching you out with these sweet nurn6, that spongy spot he presses, making you gasp out, back arching off the little bed. "Mnh, there, there!"

"Shh, not too loud," he leans fully over you to press a kiss on your inner knee - that was not protocol, not when he couldn't stop thinking of drinking your pussy and breeding you. "Your cunt is already so loud."

You huff, earning another chuckle, when suddenly you can't help but tug at his zipper, sliding so your head dangles off the bed. He pauses, blushing and looking down at you, fingers sliding out.

"What are..." You look up all pretty with hearts in your eyes for him, biting your lip, thighs shaking.

"I really want your cock in my throat, I'll pay so much more," he almost laughs.

Paying him to suck his cock!?

"You sure, sweetheart? This is for you."

"I'll love it if you would like it," you turn around, on your elbows and knees, looking right up at him as he frees his cock. "Is this special treatment?"

"It is, can't say anyone's touched me," he mumbles, suddenly nervous, when you've got your mouth wrapping his cock, his head falls back, groan slipping from his throat as that tip grazes the roof of your mouth.

You didn't look the type to suck a dick down your throat like you have no gag reflex - but here you are, swallowing him like you can't get enough. Your oiled up ass is arched, Satoru reaches a long arm over you, one hand entangled in your hair, the other finding your hole and fucking his fingers in and out.

The loud sounds of your squelching pussy and his cock choking your slutty throat are loud, the stupid ass spa music falling on deaf ears as he thinks he's in love with your mouth.

"F-fuck you're... too good at..." He's never one to be at a loss for words, but with every glide of his pretty pink tip in your throat, you're swallowing impossibly more of him. "That's it - fuck, just like..."

Satoru bites down on his lower lip as he shoves the back of your head so he's choking you with his length, curling his fingers just right so you squirt right down him. Dripping in rivulets you're making the biggest mess, squishing sounds loud when he rushes his fingers side to side to make you squirt even more.

"Mmmph," tears streak down your eyes as you swallow Satoru's cock, thighs shaking on the leather bed, nails pressing into well muscled thighs. His grip on your head tightens as he bends over, fucking your throat even faster

"Want me to use your throat, cum deep inside it, huh sweetheart? Use your mouth like a pretty toy till all my cum makes you full?" Your answer is to desperately suck, two of his hands now on your head. Hips snapping, cock fucking in and out.

For a woman who had nothing but missionary and a little spit on your cunt as lube, you've never wanted to please like this. You want him to use yojr throat - fuck you would let him use every hole he wanted, looking up at him to see his flushed cheeks through your watering eyes.

"Mnh, m"gonna..." he cups your face to hold it in place, cock bottoming out so his drool soaked balls press on your chin. He pumps so much cum his knees are weak, he damn near has to cling to the bed as you keep sucking. "That thirsty? Gonna suck me dry..."

You keep sucking even as he is sensitive, Satoru pulls back and looks at the mess he's made of you, cum having slipped down your chin. He gathers it and slips it back between your lips.

"Open for me, pretty."

You eagerly listen- you, a soccer mom having this white haired masseuse spit in your open mouth in a filthy string. You eagerly swallow him up, earning him yanking you to your knees, kissing you right when the little timer goes off for his next client.

"Oh," you flush as you realize just how much you loved that, tying your robe hastily and almost bouncing at the door before he stops you.

"Hey," he tilts your chin up, pressing you against the door. "Can I see you again? Like... dinner or..."

"You want to go on a date? With me?"

"Nervous about a date but you just let me spit in your mouth?" he grins and you cover your face now.

"Oh god..."

"Pretty please?"

He is pretty sure he is in love when you give him your number and peck a kiss on his cheek.

and when he has to cancel his next client, it may or may not be because he's jerking his cock to the way your juices are still coating his fingers 💗

The gym was dead quiet.

Practice had ended nearly forty-five minutes ago, but you were still there, lingering under the excuse of cleaning up equipment and re-checking schedules. It wasn’t entirely untrue — but part of you liked the quiet after chaos. The echo of squeaking sneakers still fresh in the air, the heat still hanging around from bodies in motion.

And you knew you weren’t alone.

“I’m getting the feeling you’re waiting for me.”

You didn’t flinch at his voice. Tsukishima always made his presence known — tall and imposing, not even bothering to be stealthy.

You smirked to yourself before turning toward the entrance of the back room.

“Maybe I am.”

He was leaning against the frame, freshly showered but still damp, messy hair pushed back with a towel around his neck. His team shirt clung to him, collar stretched slightly from tugging it over his head too fast.

Even like this — especially like this — he was stupidly hot. And he knew it.

“Everyone else is gone,” you said. “Just us now.”

His eyes darkened, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Perfect.”

You didn’t need to exchange more than a glance before he was on you — lazy strides closing the distance, hands firm on your waist as he walked you backward toward the equipment room. You nearly tripped over a cart of cones, but he caught you easily, laughing under his breath.

“I should take you home,” he murmured against your neck, voice already rough. “But I’ve been thinking about you all practice, and I don’t feel like waiting.”

You felt your back bump against the mats stacked along the wall. The room was dark, quiet — perfect for this. For him.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me after practice,” he muttered. “When you think I’m not paying attention. When I’m sweating through my shirt. When I push my glasses up with my wrist because they’re fogged. You think I don’t notice? Bet you were thinking about me bending you over right there on the court, huh?”

You opened your mouth to deny it — instinctively — but his hands were already tugging at your waistband.

“Don’t lie to me now,” he growled. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Tight little shorts. That smug look. Like you wanted me to lose control.”

You gasped as he spun you around, pressing you forward so your hands landed against the stacked mats. His body followed — tall, firm, demanding.

“I’m not gonna be gentle tonight,” he warned. “You want me like this? Take it.”

You bit your lip, steadying yourself with one hand while the other pushed your shorts down. He helped, impatient fingers yanking them just far enough to expose you.

Tsukishima’s breath hitched behind you — sharp and unrestrained.

“Fuck—look at you.” His voice cracked into a low moan. “Already soaked. You really like getting fucked in school, huh?”

You whimpered, bracing yourself as his hand gripped your hip tight.

“I can’t get enough of this view,” he hissed. “Bent over for me like that… back arched, legs spread. You don’t even care how filthy this is.”

You whined, half in need and half in frustration, and he laughed — low, husky, dangerous.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, rolling his hips against you. “I’m gonna make it worth your while.”

Then he slid into you in one rough, claiming thrust — and your whole body jolted.

“Shit—” His moan was loud, raw, and without hesitation. “You feel so good. Tight. Warm. Fuck—”

He didn’t ease in. Didn’t wait. Just pulled back and thrust again, harder — one hand gripping your waist, the other spreading you open like he owned every inch of you.

You clenched the mat edge with both hands now, eyes fluttering shut as you moaned helplessly.

“You take me so well,” he groaned. “Always do. Like your body knows it belongs to me.”

Your knees trembled already — from the position, the angle, the way he was hitting deep with every sharp thrust.

“You love this,” he kept going, panting against your back. “Getting used like this. Bent over where anyone could walk in. You want someone to hear you? Want them to know who fucks you like this?”

You cried out as he hit your spot again — stars behind your eyes, legs going weak.

“You gonna cum already?” he teased. “Barely even started and you’re falling apart.”

He grabbed your hips tighter, snapping into you harder — the loud, wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the cramped room. Each movement had weight, sharp enough to shake your balance.

“You hear that?” he moaned. “That sound? That’s your body begging for me.”

Your mouth hung open — no sound, just shaky breaths and the overwhelming pressure building fast in your stomach.

Tsukishima was fully gone now — panting, swearing under his breath, moaning loudly every time your hips met his.

“F-Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” he choked. “You’re so tight right now. Feels too good—god—”

You clenched again at his voice, and he groaned so loud it felt like the room vibrated.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you do that again,” he growled. “You want that? Want me filling you up right here on the mats?”

You sobbed out his name, legs barely holding you up, and he didn’t stop.

“Answer me,” he demanded, thrusts sharper now, more ragged. “You want me to fuck you full?”

“Y-Yes!” you cried. “Please, Kei, I want it—”

He groaned — deep and filthy, like the sound had been ripped straight from his chest.

Your orgasm hit like a slap — hot, sudden, overwhelming. Your whole body convulsed forward, crying out loud as your walls clenched tight around him.

And that’s when he snapped.

“Fuck—I’m cumming—” His moan was guttural, loud enough to echo. “Take it—take all of it—shit—”

He stilled deep inside you, hips twitching with each pulse. You felt every wave of him, every shaky breath against your shoulder.

For a long moment, the only sound was the two of you trying to catch your breath.

Eventually, Tsukishima leaned forward, arms wrapping around your waist to steady you. His forehead dropped to your shoulder.

“Well,” he muttered after a beat, voice still wrecked. “That was worth staying after for.”

You laughed — hoarse and breathless. “You were so loud.”

He nuzzled into your neck. “You like when I lose control.”

“…Yeah,” you admitted, smirking. “I really do.”

He straightened, pulling your shorts back up with gentle fingers, still recovering. Then he helped you turn around, his hands surprisingly soft as they fixed your shirt and wiped your hair from your face.

“Back’s gonna be sore tomorrow,” you muttered, glancing at the wall where you’d braced yourself.

Tsukishima kissed your temple. “You’ll live.”

“People are gonna know.”

“They already suspect,” he said smugly. “But tonight? They’re gonna know why you’re walking funny.”

You shoved his shoulder — weakly — but he caught your hand and laced his fingers through it.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging you toward the door. “Let’s go home. I want you again in a real bed.”

You raised a brow. “Already?”

He looked back at you, eyes dark with the promise of more. “I didn’t say I was done. Just letting you recover before round two.”

← HQ ┆ NAVI →

a/n : thanks for reading.. i got forced to write that in one evening.

And okay, there had been a handful of heated hookups after long nights of breastfeeding and soothing your daughter back to sleep in her crib, where you'd begrudgingly let him pry your thighs apart on the couch to bury his tongue inside of you or sleepily fuck you on the stained cushions with your face buried in the pillows. But you'd made it clear each time that you still couldn't stand him.

You were using him for sex.

The sad thing was he didn't mind.

Not when his skin was on yours, when your mouth was still saying his name instead of someone else's.

He tried to propose to you. Four times.

You called him a manchild for thinking a marriage would make the two of you magically work.

"Think she'd say yes if I asked her on a real date then?" Sukuna said, trying to piss him off today as he leaned back in his own chair and chuckled. He didn't like the way he said real. Like the two of you had been on something that could've qualified as a date before without him knowing.

God, the only reason that asshole even came was because he heard that you were dropping off her.

"Don't even think about it," Gojo groaned, tempted to reach across the table and throttle him for suggesting it.

Having a baby with someone he was hopelessly in love with was hard enough.

Did all of his friends have to fucking audition to be the stepfather?

Sukuna hadn't even known you until after he'd knocked you up.

Never met you until you begrudgingly showed up to the frat house with a pregnancy test in hand and a scowl etched across your pretty face.

"I mean, who would you rather have be the stepdaddy?" Sukuna dryly mocked, actively ragebaiting him as he snagged the muffin that had been meant for you, unwrapping it and taking a big bite before talking with a full mouth. "Me? Or Suguru?"

Gojo would actually rather die than watch either of them marry you.

What the fuck was he supposed to do to stop them from speaking to you though?

Especially when the latter had managed to end up firmly planted in your good graces with those irritatingly smooth lines of his? Cooking you meals and murmuring in your ear what a good mother you were?

All while he just fucking sat there and stumbled over his words, feeling shittier and shittier as they tried to steal you and his daughter right out from underneath his nose.

"Neither," he grimaced, turning his attention back to his baby.

She was awake, kicking her legs in her seat as he bent forward to unbuckle her, carefully picking her up before placing her in his lap.

His heart pounded in his chest, pressure pushing down and making his ribs constrict at the thought of fucking this up.

He didn't know how to be a father. Not really. He'd never even been anyone's boyfriend. Never had any pets growing up to take care of.

Becoming frat president was the first real responsibility he ever had.

And now he had an entire human that was half-him to raise.

Drunk idiots were a lot fucking different than a baby. Who needed to be fed and bathed and loved and a million other overwhelming things he was struggling to keep track of.

She blinked up at him, familiar blue eyes squinting at him before they started to well up with tears, face scrunching up like she was about to start wailing.

He tried bouncing her up and down, but it only seemed to make her more upset, panic bubbling up before Sukuna was getting up out of his seat.

"Here," he grunted, scooping her out of his arms and cradling her against his chest as if it came naturally. "I've got her."

Her tiny body relaxed, eyes softening as he murmured something under his breath - not to Gojo, but to her. Soothing her in a way that simply didn't come naturally to him.

Going from on the verge of bawling to batting her lashes in a matter of seconds.

His daughter didn't even prefer him.

And he only had himself to blame.

Maybe if he managed to make up with you sooner, actually make you his, he could actually be living with you full time. Sharing a bed, sharing breakfast, being there to handle all the dirty diaper changes and spilled milk instead of just stopping in and begging you to let him stay to do night shafts.

You didn't trust him. Thought he was just a temporary fixture. Someone who was here for now instead of forever.

Every time he got close to convincing you he was here permanently, he always screwed it up.

God, he almost missed you giving birth just because some goddamn sorority girl stole his phone at a stupid party Suguru had insisted he show up to for at least an hour. But he'd been the one to accept the first beer - and the second.

The shots were harder to excuse.

If it wasn't for you calling Suguru in between contractions, he probably wouldn't have gotten there minutes before you had to start pushing. You had glared at him, stray strands of hair sticking to your forehead as you studied the glazed over look in his eyes and scoffed that you could smell the alcohol on him.

All he'd done was stain the memory of meeting your baby for the first time.

Fucked it all up from that very first moment.

He overheard you on the phone a couple days later, muttering something about how you couldn't believe he couldn't just stay sober when he knew you were about to go into labor any day.

Gojo hadn't touched a drink since.

He still had to show up to parties sometimes, had frat duties he couldn't exactly dodge, but he didn't let it interfere with him being a dad anymore.

"You're lucky she looks like you," Sukuna muttered, reaching up to scruff up her hair.

"Yeah," he swallowed, although part of him still wished she had more of you.

"No one would believe she's actually yours if she didn't," he dryly commented, picking out the the stitches of wounds Gojo was still licking.

"Can you stop being a dick for like, a day?" Gojo grumbled, rubbing his eyes as he glanced away from his daughter out the window at the people passing by on the street.

Staring a little too long at the happy families, his mouth twitching down at the tiny kids chattering to their parents, struggling to accept the fact that one day his own would be that be that big.

"I'm just sayin'," he shrugged. "How'd you even get her to fuck you?"

Sheer luck?

Pure chance that you somehow found his stupidity cute when you weren't sober?

He had etched the night in his head, held onto the memory with the worry that it could somehow be ripped from him too.

One of the few moments he'd gotten with you that was relatively untainted by everything that happened since.

Playing it back like a movie in his head, convinced that if he closed your eyes, he could smell the perfume you wore that night, feel your skin on his again.

He'd barely been brave enough to work up the courage to come over to you, jittery as he made an awful joke about running into you here while you tilted your head to the side and replied that you were surprised he even recognized you.

It wasn't like he'd even spoken to you before.

Not technically.

He'd bumped into you once after class, too distracted on his phone to pay attention to what was actually in front of him. In his defense, you weren't looking either, leaning against the wall to rummage through your bag for something with one hand and a coffee clutched in the other one.

The collision spilled your drink, mostly onto the floor as he immediately stopped and gawked at what just happened while you huffed an insult under your breath.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but you just glared up at him like he was worse than gum getting stuck on the soles of your shoes, nose scrunching up as you rolled your eyes and sarcastically thanked him for wasting the one treat you'd gotten yourself this week.

Gojo was pretty sure he fell in love with you from the first scowl.

Clumsily shoving his hands in his pockets and fumbling for a fifty from his wallet, holding it out as he tried to convince his tongue to move and tell you to take it. But you just shook your head and mumbled that you were going to find a janitor to mop up the mess.

His crush hadn't ended there.

Not when he couldn't stop himself from picking you out every time you passed by him on campus, feeling like a creep when he tried to come up with some way to casually run into you again.

So, yeah, when you showed up to his frat house, wearing a pretty little dress and sipping shitty beer out of a solo cup, he was rushing over before any of his brothers could notice how cute you looked when you frowned.

"Come to spill my drink?" You sarcastically asked, arching up an eyebrow when he inserted himself in the space next to you.

"That was an accident," he pouted, pushing out his bottom lip and hoping you didn't find it completely cringy. "Can't I make it up to you?"

He couldn't fucking believe it when your mouth curled up in a soft smile instead of an automatic scoff, his heart slamming so hard against his ribs he was sure it was going to burst before he even got your number.

"What do you have in mind?" You asked.

He was ready to get on his knees then.

More with every second you spent by his side, giggling at his awful attempts of flirting as you kept him at arm's length, forcing him to try harder than he had with any other girl before just to take a single body shot off of you.

His cock throbbing and aching in his jeans when your lips softly pressed against his collarbone, drifting up to drink the vodka you poured in the divot above it. His hands had been on your waist, fingers sinking in like he couldn't quite tell if you were real or just some dizzyingly beautiful hallucination his drunk brain had conjured up.

It wasn't until he managed to pull you back into his room, bending you over the bed and shimmying your dress down that he let himself believe this was actually happening.

"So you fuck every girl you take body shots with?" You teased, out of breath while he felt his own get caught in his throat at all your exposed skin.

"Just you," he lied.

Although, now that he was with you, he couldn't remember a single one that had come before.

"Uh-huh," you muttered, not believing it for a second.

He wished you had.

"You're the prettiest girl at this party," he purred, although he was already thinking that maybe he should've said planet as he dragged his tongue over the inside of your thigh, up to where your lace panties were still bunched between your legs. Leaving a damp patch as he greedily tried to eat you out through the thin fabric, acting like a desperate loser in love with someone leagues above him.

Gojo always thought he was a catch.

Cocky enough to find confidence in his position as class president, in his body and his brains, in his financial and social status.

But he couldn't shake the fucking feeling you thought he was beneath you.

It only made him crave you more.

It wasn't good enough to have you writhing underneath him, chest heaving when he finally buried his cock inside of you, hastily just grabbing a random condom from the closest drawer and carelessly sheathing himself in it. It wasn't enough to make you moan his name as he bottomed out again and again, focused more on your pleasure than how tight the condom was as his fingers sloppily played with your clit.

Gracelessly grinding as deep as he could inside you, gritting his teeth as he watched every tiny flicker of your face, searching it for a tiny inkling of passion, of hunger that wasn't just primal.

Gojo wanted you to want him for him.

Not just a quick fuck that you'd forget about sooner rather than later.

Still, he never meant for the condom to break.

He'd known from the second he saw it register on your face that you weren't going to give him a second chance. That he'd totally fucking blown it as he stammered out apologies and spread your thighs further apart to fish out the broken bits of condom from inside you, cum leaking down your thighs as you bit your lip and stared at the ceiling.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked, his voice thin and strained as he pulled out the last piece, a funny feeling settling in the pit of his stomach at the sight of his own cum dripping out of you, the way the panties he'd forgotten to fully take off of you had gotten soaked as you stared at him with unfettered irritation.

"No," you spoke quietly, a hint of embarrassment shining in your eyes as you looked away from him to the state of his messy room. "I don't really do...this."

"Oh," he swallowed.

He didn't know what to say.

What to do. How to fix something he'd never had before.

So he just awkwardly threw away the condom, chewing the inside of his cheek as he tried to put on a casual grin. "Do you, uh, wanna shower or something? Stay the night?"

"Fine," you muttered, the mood still ruined no matter what he did to lift it again. Anxiety creeping in and making his usual aftercare routine awkward and tense until you were both laying on different sides of the bed, him staring at your back while you faced away from him.

He hoped that you would be there the next morning.

That the next day would be the start of a different story. He'd take you out for breakfast and reassure you that you probably wouldn't get pregnant anyway.

Really, what were the chances of it even happening?

He fell asleep fantasizing about ways to make you fall for him too.

But you were gone when he got up, rolling over to find a cold place where your body should be.

The bed was empty, your clothes missing from the floor and no note left behind.

No phone number for him to call or text to beg for a date. He stopped seeing you around campus too.

In some sick way, he felt a fucked-up sense of satisfaction when you showed back up to tell him you were pregnant.

He thought that it'd mean you were stuck with him.

Not that he'd be spending the next year scrambling to keep your attention to himself.

And away from them.

Sukuna reclined back more in his chair, his hard features softening as he dragged his thumb to wipe away the drool from his daughter's mouth.

"You're kind of a shitty dad, dude," Sukuna grunted, not even glancing up at him.

Was he?

He didn't know what a good one looked like.

His dad had barely been there for him growing up. Too busy to be at the dinner table or attend his soccer games.

"Can you stop talking like you're her stepdad?" Gojo grumbled, exhaling as he held out his arms, ready to take her back just for his baby to betray him again, clinging onto Sukuna's shirt with her tiny fists.

"I'm not the one you should be pissy with," Sukuna shrugged, a little glint in his eyes that made his stomach churn. Already aware that something he wouldn't want to hear was about to leave his friend's mouth. "Suguru's the one taking her out to dinner tonight."

Since when?

His jaw locked, fist clenching under the table at the thought of you and Suguru sitting at a table together at some fancy place, his hand sneaking out to brush over yours as he ordered you wine and wooed you.

How the hell was he supposed to let his best friend fuck his baby momma?

"Do you know where?"

a/n: i'll let you guys name their baby, drop suggestions in the comments!!

No!?!?

Just because Hiromi hurt you doesn’t mean you can suddenly go and act on impulse, thinking with your pussy rather than any sort of brain cells. It’s simply that you’re comfortable with him, that he’s gorgeous, that for the past few years the way he looks at you makes you feel so pretty – how he talks to you all low and soft, teasing with his big smile.

It’s just that, and the fact that his body is hard, that his skin is hot – his perfect form is present right behind you. You’re fine, just remember it’s friendly, he’s just teasing you like he does. You can’t look at ‘little toru’ who just so happens to be six-foot-four and getting thicker in the chest every time you see him – how does he keep getting more fucking muscles?

Was football really doing all of this?

“I um… just call you that,” you murmur softly, breath caught in your chest, heart hammering so quickly you’re dizzy, especially with the heat radiating down against your skin, his hands brushing more lotion, pausing at your mid back.

“Move your hair to the side, it’s drippin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs lazily, you bite your lip so hard it leaves little teeth marks, pulling your hair to the side and smiling over your shoulder at him.

“There,” you murmur, eyes locked with his.

Fuck you’re pretty.

God he wants to drag you right on his goddamn lap, slide his cock to the hilt – he bets you’re so fucking tight, but he also bets you’re so wet you could just take him. When his hands slide up the curve of your spine, you can hardly stop your cunt from dripping down the damn lounge chair, his hands rubbing all that cream into your skin ever so thoroughly.

“Then why do you call me that, huh sweetheart?” He asks now, you sigh, glaring back at him just a bit. “I’m way fucking bigger than I was when you met me.”

“Well yeah, you were like a kid, Toru.”

“Now I’m way bigger than you, hmm?” His tone echoes in your ears – way bigger… you already know the sheer size of Satoru Gojo, but to think of just how big he is makes your cunt pulse.

“Ahem…” You clear your throat now, rushing up and laughing nervously, ignoring the evident bulge in his light blue swim trunks. “I’m gonna get in!”

“With your sunblock on?” He teases, you can’t answer him – can’t even look at him, no you hop right into the cold chill of the pool, trying to cool your ovulating ovaries the fuck down.

*****

It’s hard to be around you.

Literally hard.

Satoru finds himself heading into the house while you and the family are still splashing around in the pool – he certainly can’t just palm his cock when the whole family is around. He had to rush off into the damn bathroom, shutting the door behind himself, leaking so much pre he’s sticking to his trunks.

"Mnh," Satoru can’t help but tug at his drawstring, those trunks still dripping wet with the faint scent of chlorine clinging to them, he shoves the waistband down, cock springing free, slapping his flat belly button. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Was there a better word for what you do to him? Satoru’s barely biting back a moan, wrapping his hand around that thick base of his shaft, sucking in a breath, he usually has a little more fucking self control but he doesn’t right now. Not when he got to smooth that white cream against your skin and watch it melt into it, fuck imagining rubbing his cum all over your body instead has him pulsing.

Imagine every inch of you covered in him – he’s gone truly psychotic, wanting to fucking mark you like you’re his, he was tired of seeing you with that dumb fucking lawyer. What did you need him for when you could have Satoru? What, because he’s in his thirties, Satoru Gojo was fucking filthy rich, and he’d make sure you never had to lift a pretty little finger.

“I’ll take care of you – hah, b-baby,” he’s whining out, eyelashes fluttering shut, picturing you vividly.

The way those water droplets were glistening on your skin, how your pretty tits bounced when you hopped up and Suguru splashed you. How the little bikini showed beauty marks on your tummy, a couple lines on your hips where they’ve spread just a bit since you were his age – all to spread to have his baby, he’s so sure of it.

Breedable fucking hips that he’d love to hold in his big hands, arching your back for him all pretty like a good girl – he could practically hear the moans that you’d give, they’d be much louder than the soft little sounds you made when he touched your back earlier. He can’t help but want to hear it, hear how fucking loud you get, would your sounds get all muffled as he pressed your head into the mattress?

He’s been jerking it to you since he found out what his cock even did, back when it was honestly terrible to do so, but he has no sense of guilt when it comes to you. Watching you, stealing those panties, practicing just what he’ll say as he fucks his fist devotedly to any picture he’s snuck of you, fuck he took photos from your goddamn family album he was so pathetic.

“Stop teasin’ me sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his cock, slowly at first to just savor the feeling of his precum smearing his reddened tip – all drooly already. He spits right down on his cock, a long trail of gossamer saliva swirling down, using it as lube while picturing how wet you’d get.

He bets you were wet with his hands running across your skin, he could feel heat that couldn’t just be from the sun, surely it was not the rays shining and warming you, it was Satoru’s nearness. He ached to taste the sun right off your skin, your cunt tasted so good on your panties, surely it would taste even better right from the source.

He starts to stroke his cock faster, fucking desperately, imagining your much smaller hand instead of his. You probably couldn’t even wrap those fingers around his girth, you’d have trouble taking him, tummy would just bulge as he moves in and out of your hole. He whimpers at that vision, imagining you looking at him with need, with hearts in your eyes.

Anything but that fucking sweet ‘big sis’ affection.

"Little Toru," he mumbles under his breath, a little laugh escaping him as he strokes his nine inches that would ruin your cunt for anyone else. “Fuck, sweetheart, you really have no idea, do you?"

Satoru’s strokes became more erratic as he imagined lifting your pretty ass up, bending you over the poolside, pulling that bikini aside and finally showing you exactly how ‘little’ he was. Fuck would you scream out Toru when he busted his load inside? When he filled you with all those creampies you deserved and he fingered it inside so it took?

It starts to feel too good, he’s so sensitive he’s leaning against the bathroom counter, groaning out, right about to cum when he hears it.

Someone jiggling the handle.

“I’m… hah, in here,” he manages to bite out, freezing when he hears your voice on the other side of the door.

“Toru I really am freezing, can I just come in real fast to grab a towel? I won’t look or anything,” you’re shivering, water dripping on your parents floor. “All the other bathrooms are taken by the kids and Suguru even stole the one in my old bedroom.”

“Oh… ah…” Your voice is making him pulse, he’s stroking faster, laughing just a bit.

“Are you laughing!? I’m freezing you little brat!”

“Brat, hah – you’re the brat baby,” you blush on the other side of the door, jiggling the handle again. “So eager to see my dick?”

“Oh you’re ridiculous – like I haven’t seen all you have before.”

“That was years ago, I’ve changed,” he murmurs, biting back a whimper unsuccessfully. “Not little Toru anymore.”

“Will you hurry up then? I am so fucking cold, ugh,” you’re shivering in your soaked towel – all the splashing got it so bad it’s fucking useless. “Satoru Gojo!”

“Fuck, fuck just… one sec, you’re impatient,” he strokes his thick cock one more time, whimpering out when his white ropes start spilling on the sink, his eyelashes fluttering, cheeks all flushed in his reflection.

“What the fuck are you doing in there? Did you hurt yourself or something!?”

“Hah… no…” He’s moaning now, the relief felt from his balls not being so goddamn tight and full of cum, he quickly starts wiping down the marble counters littered with his milky strings. “Hold on, okay? Fuck…”

“Fine,” you cross your arms, trembling like crazy, Satoru hastily opens the door after he tugs his swim trunks on, opening it and forcing you to look up at him, so damn tall you’re right there with his chest.

Little Toru indeed.

He’s a giant now.

“Finally,” you mumble, he leans one of those long ass arms over and grabs a dry towel, wrapping it around you and taking the wet one, hanging it up. “Oh thank you.”

“Made ya wait that long, can at least dry you up,” he murmurs, wrapping you even tighter, hands massaging the terry cloth covered arms that are covered in goosebumps. Your breath catches, looking up at him, far too close, you can feel that heat just radiating off his skin. “There, any better?”

“Um yeah, I’m sorry I was so impatient,” you mumble nervously, looking down and seeing the way his abs tense as he breathes, further down to the slutty little happy trail he has.

That’s when you pause.

Is that… is that… cum!? On his fucking belly button!? Is that his tip peaking-

“Satoru!” He blinks curiously as you push at him, his hands still firm on your shoulders.

“What, are you on your period? Acting all moody one minute, sweet the next.”

“You can’t ask me that!? Were you…” You lean close, whispering. “Jerking off, really?”

He smirks.

“I had to freeze so you could finish? Couldn’t you wait till you’re back in the room to do that?”

“Aw, did you wanna watch, sweetheart?” He asks, tilting your chin up, his lids getting lazy over those curved up blue eyes of his. You swallow then, your throat dry from his fingers caressing your jaw. “I would have let you if I knew.”

“Of course I didn’t…” You can’t even speak, not when you’re looking at his abs again, he leans back and laughs a bit.

“Ah, didn’t tug them up enough,” he hides what looks like a pretty blush tip, smiling like he’s fucking embarassed, he is flushed but it’s for an entirely different reason. “Is that better, sweetheart?”

“It’s… on you, god,” it’s your turn to blush, he hums a bit, stepping back lazily to drag his fingers across his own cum, putting them to his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucks his own release off them.

Oh fuck.

You swallow nervously, the sight of it is utterly filthy, his hum as if he tastes so sweet, fluffy lashes fluttering. “Mmm, I guess I missed a spot when I cleaned up. My bad.”

“Your bad!? You’re such a…” you trail off now, you’re aching and he looks too fucking good, psychotic ass blue eyes all lit up as they study you. You can't even finish the sentence, your face burning with a blush that has nothing to do with the sun you took in.

"I'm such a what?" he presses closer to you, until your back is against the door, it closes behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the little guest bathroom.

“Such a…” you clear your throat, feeling him against you, you should pinch his ear or smack him in the back of the head like you did when he was younger – but you can’t even move.

He's all warm against you, the sticky remnants of his own release splayed across that pale skin, a hand on the wall beside you. The way he’s looking at you and his sheer proximity are doing things to you that you absolutely refuse to acknowledge.

“Such a pervert,” you glare and he chuckles, cupping your face with a hand now – that’s not how a twenty two year old frat boy should look down at you, should act, with his arm fucking raised and the little thatch of hair still damp underneath them. His silky locks are falling in slick little strands across his brow. “A total pervert.”

“Me? No, sweetheart,” he smirks down at you like the little shit he is. "I’m just taking care of a problem you caused."

"I caused it!?" you squeak out the words almost embarassing, pushing at his chest half heartedly – he’s so built and muscular it’s like pushing against a brick wall, his heart thudding under your palm. You barely manage a glare. "How is any of this ridiculous behavior my fault?"

He catches your wrists in one of his big hands, thumb brushing over the delicate network of veins, right over your frantic pulse. “How is it your fault?”

“Yes, you psycho.”

“You exist," his words confuse the fuck out of you then, breaths faster until your tits are rising and falling in the top just a bit too small, his gaze drops to it when your towel hopelessly falls. He exhales and traces his hand over the curve of your tit, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches. “That’s how it’s your fault.”

‘B-because I exist?” You whisper, shaking your head now. “You’re just fucking with me, what does that even mean?”

"You wore that bikini,” he murmurs, a thigh coming between yours, instead of tugging away you shamelessly arch your hips, earning his soft little exhale. “You let me put sunscreen on you, didn’t you? Let me touch your skin, while you’re fucking looking like that." His eyes – those impossibly fucking bright blue eyes – drag down your body, like he’s touching you

“That makes no sense, you’ve always seen me in swimsuits, Satoru. You may have had some little crush when you were younger, but you’re an adult.”

“And so the fuck are you, a whole woman, hmm?” He whispers, you hate how good it makes you feel. “Fuck you must be ovulating, swear I can smell it.”

“You cannot freak!?” You shove again, but your hips move, heat emanating even from your soaked bikini bottoms, the scent of chlorine mixing with the sweetness of his breath, the musk of that slight sweat underneath his arms.

“Bet your body wants a baby in her,” he smirks, his hips dragging you down on his thigh, a trail of slick glittering on it. You whine out, biting your lip and shaking your head. "What did you expect to happen, you lookin’ like that, after that man was dumb enough to leave you?"

"I expected you to act like a normal person, even if y-you somehow think I’m hot or something, you can’t just… act like this, all psychotic. What do you mean babies inside me!?”

“Oh you don’t wanna be bred?” You almost whimper goddamn this little brat.

“You’re a little fratboy.”

“A little fratboy?” He repeats, you bite down on your lower lip and nod. “You want me to act normal, huh?”

“Y-yes go back too… whatever it was um… before. Go fuck your little frat girls at your parties, girls your age," your voice is weak, breathless and fucking pathetic – you hate whatever the hell was happening, the fact that you’re aching for him to do just that – pump cum right inside you.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs softly, leaning in and letting his lips hover until they’re almost touching yours. "I haven't been normal about you since I was twelve years old."

“That’s insane,” you hiss, shaking your head again, his thigh pressing up and you feel your body respond, his hands tugging at your waist, thumbs right underneath the swells of your breasts.

"You really have no fucking clue, do you?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest as you drink him in, half naked and still glimmering with the pool water.

This is Satoru.

Annoying, bratty, little Toru – who used to follow you around like a lost puppy, then grew to just annoy the ever loving shit out of you. Suguru’s best friend who has spent more time with your parents than you have in the past ten years – he’s ‘Toru’ and that’s that.

Right?

He can’t be the man who sucks cum off his fingers.

You should push him away – walk out and lock yourself in your room for the entirety of the rest of your stay, you should do anything but let his lips brush the corner of your lips, do anything but whimper. Anything but moan softly when he tugs down your top, groaning at the sight of one of your pretty tits bare, with the faint lines the sun left on your skin.

“Oh my fuck,” he whispers, he didn’t know you’d be that fucking beautiful, he had snuck so many glimpses but to see that pretty nipple in person? “Look at you.”

“I… we… even if you’re not Suguru’s best friend, even if you weren’t six years younger – I literally just broke up with-”

“A dumb fuck?” You glare at him. “He’s stupid to ever leave you.

“You don’t know him, and… even if we um… did something-”

“What!?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Satoru-”

“You wanna do something!? With me!?” You snort a bit at how suddenly cute he is, before he gathers himself, hand trailing down your tummy, it trembles underneath the surprising roughness of his fingertips. “Want me to make you cum, pretty?”

“Fuck,” where’d he learn to talk like this!? Hiromi could eat pussy – and that man could fuck, but something about Satoru’s utter desperation and devotion had you gushing and pulsing around nothing. “I… you can… can you…”

“Can I make you cum?” He chuckles, finding your elastic, slipping his fingers underneath so his finger grazes your clit, your hips buck at it, whining out weakly. “Yeah, sweetheart, I can make you cum until you’re squirting right on this fucking floor.”

“J-just… fuck, just…” You should push him off – but instead, you find yourself shoving his hand down further, eyes fluttering shut, your head back ever so slightly against the door. “There, my clit, please… please, fuck…”

It’s happening.

Satoru’s dreamt of this moment since he even knew somewhat was a pussy was, and yours was soaking goddamn wet, so messy it’s loud, echoing in the bathroom, he swirls it in little circles as you rock your hips, still straddling one of his thighs. He pulls it back and picks you up, making you gasp, sitting you right on the sink and tugging your bottoms to the side.

“Toru, I…”

“Fuck yes, god call me that,” if he hadn’t already jerked off – he’d be cummin’ again just eyeing your needy, puffy cunt. “Fuckin’ perfect lil cunt, god, just look at you, soaked.”

Your lashes flutter shut, expecting a finger and then shocked when you feel a glob of saliva right on your needy clit. “Ah!”

“Mmm,” he’s humming, spreading his own spit around, smirking at the sight of his bubbly, gossamer saliva coating your cunt. “Perfect just like that… Do you need them inside? Bet yours couldn’t hit.”

“Shut it, Toru,” you’re yanking on his wrist, making him moan with how you take over, he’s used to girls just a little too shy, not that it was a bad thing – but you knew what you wanted, grabbing his fingers and sucking them.

“Oh my… f-fuckk…” He almost does cum watching your cheeks hollow, seeing you suck him down to the knuckle, your pretty pussy just drippin’ right down the counter as you arch your hips more.

“Hurry b-before they notice,” you whisper desperately now, guiding his hand down to your needy hole, whining out softly. “Two, put two in, please.”

“Sure you can take it?” You just nod eagerly, he swirls them and then buries them to the fucking hilt inside, you have to smack a hand on your mouth, drool spilling across your palm as he starts easing them in and out. “Fuck, took em s’good just f’me, huh? Just like that, needy lil cunt wants me.”

“Sh-shh,” is all you manage to mumble, lifting your hand and yanking him down, hand entangled in his silky hair. “Once, just once and… we can’t…”

Hah, as if Satoru would just touch you once, when he’s rocking his fingers up and down, making a squelching fucking mess, your eyes roll back in your skull as he works them faster, until the clicking is just echoing obscenely. “Once, huh?”

“You finger me, I’ll s-suck you.”

“Slutty girl,” you can’t stand how he says that, how his long digits press on your puffy lil cervix, barely able to formulate a fucking thought as he works you so much you’re desperately trying to get a breath. “That’s it, gonna cum that easy? Just f’me, hmm? All me?”

You can’t answer, so you drag him down for a kiss – and that’s when you lose it, kissing Satoru wasn’t normal – not the way he moans like a little slut, desperately taking over your mouth. His hands dragging every bit of slick from your cunt as impossibly more comes down his thick fucking fingers.

“God,” he whispers, hardly able to catch his breath. “You’re so tight, fuck…”

“Mnh,” you can hardly manage to speak, think of anything but how good it feels, his fingers going even faster now. “So much… too much I…”

“You can take them baby,” he whispers – in a way ‘little toru’ sure the fuck shouldn’t, his eyes black with their blown out pupils, kissing down the side of your jaw and curving his fingers right up against that soft spot on your front wall. “Look, you’re doin’ s’good already.”

“Ngh,” you’re so goddamn close, your head falling back for him to work you quicker. “Gonna cum… gonna…”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Fuck,” you hiss the words, but Satoru doesn’t pull his fingers back, he moves them slower, to edge you, to torture you.

Isn’t it what you’ve done all these years?

“Act normal,” he murmurs, lips brushing your earlobe, sharp teeth nicking it as he eases his fingers out, rubbing your clit back and forth so quickly you’re about to scream out loud. “If you wanna cum, you’ll just act like I’m not here.”

“H-hey, yes?” You barely manage to squeak out, Satoru smiles against your neck, pinching your clit and making you bite down hard on his bare shoulder, leaving glittery teeth marks.

“Sis, we’re about to grill out – I can’t find Satoru,” you found him all right – he’s tugging your hair at the roots so you look at him as he’s about to make you squirt all over. “Have you seen him?”

“Hah I d-did,” fuck, he’s rocking them faster, smirking cruelly at your plight. “I saw him um… upstairs dancing to some t swift.”

“You brat,” he hisses in your ear, Suguru chuckles.

“Yeah, sounds like him.”

It’s not even!?

Satoru shoves his fingers in against that cervix and makes you whine out, grinning all evil as you glare at him. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, Sugu! Um… I’m getting freshened up, then I’ll meet you guys outside, okay?” You bite back a moan when Satoru’s kissing your neck, tongue lapping up a little vein underneath your skin he traces, free hand plucking your nipple and twisting it. The dual stimulation is too fucking much.

“No worries, sis, I’ll throw some chicken breast on there for you,” now you feel guilty – great!

“Thanks Sugu, you’re the best,” you murmur, he’s walking away now, leaving this psycho who’s fingering you faster. “I’m gonna… cum, fuck, fuck…”

“Aww you’re easy f’me,” he whispers, eyeing you as you’re about to fall apart, fingers shoved right back inside your needy hole. “I’ll make you forget him, forget anyone but me.”

“Psycho, what!? Just… ah!” He slams a big hand over your mouth, chuckling dark and fucking sadistic as he makes you squirt all over, it’s spraying against his hand and even hits his tummy, making him moan.

“God, look at that,” he’s pulling those fingers out of your pulsing walls in wonder, peering at the mess you made. “You’ve got me covered, sweetheart, you’ve got such a slutty lil pussy.”

“Fuck…” You’re so weak, when you hop off and shove him against the wall, kneeling and tugging at his waist band.

“Oh my god…” THIS IS HAPPENING.

The girl of his dreams is on her knees, her squirt all on his fingers, he’s sucking it off them as he grips your hair, letting out a desperate whine when you kitten lick his drooly tip.

“You’re already hard again for me?” Your whisper is diabolical, he barely manages a fucking word – all his braincells gone when you stroke his cock, sucking his tip and swirling the flat of your tongue.

Oh you’re a pro at sucking cock – and he’s mad about it.

“Wish you never had one but mine in your m-mouth,” he’s huffing, pressing on the back of your neck so you take impossibly more of him in your mouth, fucking into your throat needy and desperate. “Do you have n-no gag reflex!?”

“Hmm,” you’d smile if your throat wasn’t blissfully full of his pretty cock – you’d feel bad about that later, not right now, when your fingers are pumping inside your quivering hole, still sensitive from him. When his fingers tighten in your hair, bucking his hips and whimpering out 

“Can you take all of it, huh? Doubt you can – oh my f-fuckkk.” You suck him deeper before he can think, your nose brushing against the soft white hairs nestled at his base as you look right up at him. “Oh my… fuck your throat it’s so goddamn slutty… mnh…”

Satoru’s supposed to make you whimper, not the other way around, but how can he do anything other than stutter, bucking them so that he slips his tip right past your uvula, you have tears in your eyes, sniffling a bit, but aside from that you’re bobbing your damn head. He can’t even imagine that lawyer got this, got you sucking him so deep and choking on his cock and left that shit.

Your eyes are so pretty he’s stunned, he dreamt of them looking up at him like this but really nothing could prepare him for what it’s like to have the girl he’s jerked off to forever taking him in between her lips.

"Fuck, your mouth... god, your mouth is better than I ever..." he trails off into a strangled little slutty moan, those pink lips parted as you pull back.

You have strings of saliva and drool just dissolving, he can hear your messy little pussy as you shamelessly overstimulate it, sucking him till he’s dizzy. “Mmm, you like it, huh? You’re so wet for me, Toru.”

“Oh fuck you,” you giggle and he almost laughs – but it turns into a choked little  moan, you’re swirling your tongue around the sensitive ridge of his tip, tonguing that slit where all his pearly cum is slipping. “God, your fucking mouth.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, before plunging down again, slurping him the fuck down as you look up at him through your lashes.

The sight almost makes him lose it right there, busting from less than two minutes of your pretty lips stretched around him, the sight of your pretty tears at the corner of your eyes the only tell that it took effort stuffing his cock in your throat. Tight, needy throat that reflexively swallows around him as he cups your face to hold it in place, fucking your face harder.

“Gotta finger your cunt again? Needy, messy lil slut – all f’me, isn’t it?” You can’t help but whine out around him – yes, it’s all for him, and he knows it. Even as he’s whining out he’s dominating you, fucking your throat raw – you won’t even be able to talk tomorrow. “I can’t wait to drink that pretty pussy, f-fuck… god, when i pump you full of cum I’ll lick it right out.”

Satoru Gojo is absolutely fucking insane.

And you’re about to cum again just sucking him and fucking your own pussy with your much smaller fingers.

His hips are already jerking off rhythm now, meaner with it as he’s fucking himself back into your willing mouth. "Such a fucking tease for years... ah, shit, don't stop, b-baby please – m’gonna-”

One moment fucking your throat so hard you’re choking, the next murmuring your praises – pretty girl, needy slut, fuckin’ tease, my sweetheart – he’s a babbling mess, and you can’t help but feel so sexy doing it. Hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard as you pull back, feeling his hands tremble as they tug at your hair.

“Gonna swallow all of me? Hah – god just wait, I’ll fill all your fucking holes,” well that just fucking sends you, when he’s not gentle and he’s slamming his cock mean in your throat, heavy balls smacking your chin as you drool down them.

He murmurs your name when you feel him pulse and thicken, before he does just that – fills your throat with all that sweet, salty mix of his cum, hitting the back of your throat. You swallow it all, every last drop fucking greedy as you cum again, spasming and gushing down your own fingers.

You don’t stop licking him – not even after you’ve sucked his milky seed in your throat, you’re sucking his sensitive cock after, until he's whimpering your name.

"Jesus Christ," he whispers, finally letting go of your hair to gently stroke your cheek, you pull back with a messy pop and he struggles to even find a word for what just happened. “You’re so…”

“Good at it?” you tease, standing with his help and giggling, but it’s all shut off when he tilts your chin, kissing your swollen lips and lapping his own cum off with the tip of his tongue.

“Mmm, was gonna say beautiful,” your eyes locked.

Oh fuck.

It’s not just ovulation – you know it then and there.

Before you can have an entire mental breakdown, oh and a quarter life fucking crisis, you both hear everyone laughing outside. “Shit we…”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, fucked out and spent by you.

Satoru wasn’t innocent – but with you he felt like it – there’s never been anything like what you just did, fucking up his goddamn mind.

You rush out to the cookout after getting dressed like nothing happened – acting all unaffected and infuriating him to no end.

But it was just that, an act.

One he calls your ass out when Suguru is flipping burgers on the grill, and he’s handing you a beer with a little curve of his lips. “Oh, thanks ‘little toru’.”

“Hah,” he chuckles a bit, tilting his head. “Your sore throat tells me there’s nothing little about me anymore, hmm?”

“Shh!?” you look around wildly, as if someone could hear. “It was… just… I was…”

“Aching for my cock in your throat?” He leans low now, where no one in your family can hear him. “I’m a gentleman, sweetheart, I prefer to eat my meals first.”

“Eat your…” you blush now. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he sighs, aching to brush your hair back, but knowing at that moment how many people were around. “Gonna let me return your favor?”

Before you can answer, your mother's voice – all fucking bright and peppy – cuts through the relaxed atmosphere of the pool party, making everyone look over at her curiously. Oh, except Satoru – he’s stuck looking at you underneath his fluffy damn lashes.

"Look who's here! Hiromi, darling, over here!"

Fuck.

Hiromi!?

You turn and there he is. Your ex who broke your damn heart – Hiromi Higuruma, looking all handsome in a dark linen shirt and shorts, his hair just a little bit of a disaster as it always was. He has this polite, almost apologetic smile on his handsome face, the one you used to ride until he drowned in you.

You almost could forget how bad he hurt you until he was right here.

He's holding a bottle of wine and awkwardly greeting your father, who is clapping him on the back all friendly, steering him directly toward you.

"Hiromi, so glad you could make it!" You wanna die. Satoru’s tense as fuck right next to you.

He wants to kill this man.

He would kill anyone that’s ever even touched you, truly, if he could really get away with it.

Your mother is right behind Hiromi, smiling at you and making you scowl. "I just told Hiromi we were so surprised you two happened to be in town at the same time! It's a sign, don't you think, to reconnect? Even as… friends to the family, right?"

Oh, god.

Your fucking parents.

Higuruma's dark brown eyes find yours, and you feel all that pain all over again, mixing with the drink in your system, the pleasure from Suguru’s best friend – and the heat of the sun. Dizzy, you barely feel Satoru’s warmth against you.

It was not just sucking dick – and that terrifies you – but now, Hiromi is here and confusing the ever loving shit out of you. You thought you’d never see him again.

"Hey," he says softly to you, peering over at Satoru for a moment, before his gaze is back on yours. "Your parents invited me here, I didn’t want to be rude but also… didn’t want…”

He sighs then.

“I just really wanted to see you again.”

Satoru’s pretty blue eyes narrow – there’s no fucking way he’s letting anyone touch the girl that just deep throated his cock, the girl who he’s about to put babies inside. No, he’s not sharing – and Hiromi needs to fucking go – he has a girl he needs to make his.

hehe do we wanna pt 2 bc I can't help myselfff - </333 I was actually inspired when i read @revolvingsaturn's fic about Sugu's mom, ngghhh go check it