cvntessa

' being loved by satoru gojo ' giggling squealing kicking my feet warnings : idfk fluff , gojo being head over heels for you

taking a break after a long day of training and instructing a bunch of stubborn teenagers, you and shoko were sitting in the staff room---discussing things that gojo has done for you that seemed totally normal.

to you.

"satoru left a mission halfway through one time because i said i missed him." you shrug.

shoko nearly choked on her coffee, "he did what?"

you didn't understand why shoko was reacting. i mean, that was totally normal. ...right?

she places her mug down, eyeing you suspiciously. "how often does he carry your bags?"

"all the time."

"open doors?"

"yeah?"

"buys you things?"

"well, obviously."

every one of your answers to her questions, shoko grew more and more confused. she knew that you two were dating, but she always assumed he didn't really get attached to people. well, not like that at least.

shoko clears her throat, "you know he doesn't do any of that for the rest of us, right?" she lowers her voice. "last week i asked him to pass me a pen and he threw it at my head."

"what?" you gasp---and that's when the flashbacks hit you.

gojo automatically ties your shoelaces even though he knows you're more than capable.

gojo carries you when you're tired.

gojo remembering your coffee order.

gojo giving you his jacket before you can even say that you're cold.

gojo dropping everything when you call.

each memory gets progressively more embarrassing because of your obliviousness. so, after the break with shoko, you went looking for gojo for confirmation.

finding him on the field, watching and instructing yuji and megumi while they train together, you approach him.

"do you really do all those things because you love me?"

gojo blinks, "well hello to you too," he chuckles deeply, turning to face you. "explain, sweetheart."

you huff, "like.. everything! you tie my shoelaces, you buy me things without asking, you carry me when i'm tired---"

"who else would i do it for?"

"...shoko says normal boyfriends don't carry spare hair ties." your lips purse together, turning your face away.

gojo tilts his head to the side, placing his index finger under your chin to guide your face back to his. "normal boyfriends are losers."

okay eat this up before i move onto my rin itoshi mini series

it’s been weeks of this — weeks of satoru tenderly trying to lift your frail newborn daughter from your arms, his tall frame hunched over her and his touch agonisingly gentle, only for her to burst out into tears. he just can’t comprehend it!

“it isn’t fair,” he mumbles, slumped over on the couch after yet another failed attempt at picking her up. “i mean, she has my eyes! in fact, she has all my genes, yet she won’t let me pick her up!”

his tone is scandalised, a hint of betrayal seeping into it; but beyond the usual dramatics, there’s a subtle sense of vulnerability in it too. it’s barely there, hidden behind the light-heartedness of his voice so that you almost miss it.

that’s the kind of skill that satoru has mastered by now: being able to feign confidence in the form of borderline obnoxious mock-arrogance. or rather, being able to divert any concerns you may have with a kind of ease and fluidity that’s got to be at least a little bit concerning.

but you don’t miss it this time. not with the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stares at the floor, lost in thought. not when he looks so worn down, eroded of his usual playful demeanour, an unfamiliar tiredness written all over his body.

you can see the way his shoulders are lowered a fraction in exhaustion from the situation, and even despite his joking demeanour, you both seem to have noticed the way his voice lacked its usual charm earlier.

“hey, toru..” you murmur, sliding onto the couch next to him. your daughter is still clinging to your shirt, having only just been lulled to sleep by you. she’s finally finished bawling her eyes out at the sight of her own father. “don’t be like that…it’s nothing. she’ll grow out of it.”

“no, you don’t get it sweets! she must know something…” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i mean, whenever she looks at me with those huge blue eyes, it’s like she’s staring right through me. she must know something i don’t!” with that, he drops his head into his hands with a groan.

you’d laugh at the irony of his words if it weren’t for the defeated look on his face. of all things, you’d never expected to hear satoru gojo complaining about the unsettling nature of the piercing-blue eyes that she’d inherited from him. nonetheless, you gently move your free hand to stroke his back, your voice soft as you rub soothing circles.

“hey, no…she’ll come around soon enough.”

“but what if she doesn’t?” he looks up, pouting once more. “what if i’ve done something wrong? maybe i messed up my first impression or something!”

“…toru, don’t be silly, i don’t think newborns care about first impressions.”

he sits up slowly, assessing your words as his eyes fall once more upon the baby in your arms. her snowy eyelashes flutter slightly as she snoozes, tiny hands curled up against her body. one of her chubby cheeks rests against you as she snores, her tiny chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale she takes. tentatively, satoru brings a hand to run over her small leg, fingers running over the soft fabric of the fluffy bear socks on her feet courtesy of his impulse buying.

he snorts sadly at that, remembering the way he had been so excited to spoil her. he’d ran around, desperate to find only the very best for his sweet daughter: bags of baby toys, soft socks, cute baby outfits and pacifiers. he’d spent hours researching the quality of each, scrolling through reviews, diligently ensuring that his daughter would receive only the best — only for her to sob at the mere sight of his face.

it’s a kind of irony satoru can’t bear. because ultimately, in the eyes of the newborn in your arms, he’s no longer satoru gojo. he’s simply…nothing. stripped of being the strongest, stripped of his usual defence mechanism of feigned-confidence, stripped of his ability to win her over with expensive toys and clothes. he’s left vulnerable, stuck with the discomfort of it all. maybe he isn’t cut out for this. maybe he isn’t cut out for fatherhood.

you study his face, frowning at the way his brows are pinched and his features have melted into something much more vulnerable, tired. he looks deep in thought, barely registering the fact that one of his legs is tapping anxiously. he just stays sat there, eyes absentmindedly resting upon your daughter, zoned out.

your heart aches a little. it’s a strange sight, to see your usually-bold husband reduced to this unfamiliar state, hands tensed in his lap like he’s not sure what to do with himself.

so, you decide to take action yourself.

tenderly, you lift your daughter and quietly place her into satoru’s arms, silently willing her not to wake just yet. you’re not quite sure how you or your poor husband will cope if she does — and the idea of having to lull her back to sleep whilst simultaneously looking into satoru’s face of pure disappointment is one you’re not particularly fond of.

the second the baby is in his arms, satoru tenses up, thrown off-guard for a moment at the sudden action. however he then slowly begins to pull her closer to his chest, arms cradling her more securely now. it’s a bit awkward at first, because for once your poor husband hasn’t had a chance to prepare himself to hold her: no half an hour pep talk in the mirror as usual, no rubbing vanilla baby lotion into his hands before attempting to hold her — after all, apparently the scent of vanilla is soothing to young babies. hours of extensive research and a couple of youtube tutorials on how not to make your newborn daughter cry have taught him that much, at least.

much to his surprise, though, despite his total lack of preparation this time around, she seems to warm up to his touch immediately. despite being fast asleep, she nuzzles her tiny cheek against his chest a little, angling her head just a fraction inwards towards his warmth.

sure, maybe they’re just baby steps, if you can even call them that. but for the first time since his sweet daughter was born, satoru has actually been able to hold her without being subjected to sobs and screams. he tries to fight a tiny smile, and your heart flutters at the sight.

he stays stood there in silence, eyes crinkled in fondness as he peers down at the sleeping girl in his arms, cradling her like she’s precious. and after a few minutes of standing like that, a single, tiny tear begins to form in the corner of his eye, not quite falling yet. it stays there for a few seconds, clinging to soft dove-white lashes before the salty water finally rolls down his face, just barely brushing over the edge of his cheek.

with a tiny sniff, gojo quickly manages to recover his composure, letting his typical confident grin return back onto his features and simultaneously trying to pretend that his eyes aren’t currently going blurry with the threat of fresh, brand-new tears.

“ah— i knew it, so you do like me..!” he chokes out a weak laugh as he addresses the sleeping newborn, his voice half-subdued in a poor attempt at being quiet so as not to wake her. he dramatically crooks his head downwards, his ear right up next to your daughter’s face as though trying to ensure he can hear her better before he speaks up again. “…soo, this means that i’m the favourite parent, right??”

the nerve of him!

a/n: filler post sorry if the writing quality is poor i just wanted to post something💔 the idea came to me thanks to a dad sukuna fic i saw so creds to them!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) taglist: @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @hearts2vivi @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @eyayur @strawberrychansora @qrxswan + join!

Gojo’s the type to make you believe you’re the one with the striking, crystalline blue eyes the way he yearns for your gaze.

When you’re the last to wake up, the first thing you’ll see is him staring at you with his head propped up by his arm against the pillow, almost as if seeing your eyes gives him permission to move. He can’t even hide the full smile somewhat covered by his hand.

“It’s not good to stare,” you tease groggily.

“I can’t help it,” he responds swiftly, resting his head back down on the pillow, eyes still on yours. “The morning doesn’t feel right until I see you.”

If you’re simply reading a book on your sofa, or watching another episode from another selection of your binging conquests, he leaves a trail of kisses up your arm, just waiting for you unlock your gaze and channel it in his direction.

“Need something, Toru?” You ask, a chuckle seeping through your curiosity. Your eyes remain on the flashing screen.

“I just—need to—leave—my baby—a few—kisses,” he spoke in between each peck against your skin.

“And I love that. But what do you really need?” You ask once more, eyes still fixed on the television.

He pauses. You almost turn to him at the sudden lack of pecks across your skin, but you refuse to give in just yet.

“I need you to look at me,” he finally admits softly, almost pitifully.

And just like that, you turn your attention to your crybaby boyfriend, who has his chin resting up against your arm with his bottom lip pulled out.

“For someone who says I’m the spoiled one, you sure do get whatever you want all the time,” you jeer.

But he doesn’t respond to you. He just stares into your eyes.

“Satoru?”

You could feel the hairs on your arm raise when you see the sparkle in his eyes. His orbs wide, just looking up into yours, as if he’s studying every detail there is to offer in your pupils. He looks as if time has just stopped itself for this very moment, granting him his long-awaited wish.

“Satoru?” You called again.

He blinks repeatedly and shakes his head, knocking himself out of his trance.

“You okay?” You ask, reaching to cup his face.

“Perfect, baby,” he responds, resting his cheek in your hand.

And when you’re both getting ready for bed that night, brushing your teeth at the shared mirror in your bathroom, you ask him:

“You do realize you have like—the most one of a kind eyes of all time right? Like by far the most beautiful eyes on the planet?”

He simply spits out the remaining bit of water and toothpaste into the sink bowl and shrugs. He looks at you in the mirror, smiles, and says:

“Maybe, but they’re not yours.”

choso's never been more grateful in his life than right now for doing a faceless stream.

he's been muted for at least five minutes, his controller just sitting uselessly upon his keyboard while messages in the live chat note his in-game character still hasn't moved.

sure, his absence was abrupt, but he couldn't exactly explain to his audience that you, his beloved girlfriend, was on her knees with a mouthful of his cock beneath the desk.

how was he supposed to turn you away when you looked so beautiful like this—drool dripping down your chin, eyes watering each time his leaking tip prodded the back of your throat?

he covers his mouth with a hand in an attempt to muffle his groans. his hips buck, pushing his length deeper into the wet cavern of your mouth as your tounge ran along a pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft.

"baby," choso pants, hands flexing as they grip his chair's arm-rests. "don't—ah, fuck—do that!"

you hum in delight and hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up then down at a dangerously slow pace. up, up, up your went towards the head, momentarily tounging the slit before pulling off with a lewd 'pop!'

a small keen escapes choso, the smallest quiver evident in his lower lip. you take a moment to relish the winding desperation evident in choso's expression and gently rest your head upon his thigh.

"sweetheart," choso says, his voice wavering. "i—"

"what did i say, cho?" you interject gently, your words murmured against his skin in between soft kisses. "unmute yourself, play your silly game, and you can cum. don't you want to please your adoring fans?"

a strained chuckle leaves your boyfriend, one of his hands threading itself in your locks to gently tug your head up. your eyes widen slightly as his narrow. "aren't you my biggest fan, honey?"

you found yourself unable to feign surprise, as it was undeniably true—you were indeed his most ardent supporter. your dedication was evident in various ways, from surprising him with purchases from his steam wishlist to anonymously gifting him numerous subscriptions, among many other gestures.

you are only able to offer a small nod. choso then tilts his head and smirks, with his angel fang piercings gleaming in the dim LED lighting. his free hand grips your jaw and carefully guides your face towards his cock once more until you were practically nuzzling it.

"here's what's going to happen," he said. "i'm going to unmute myself and just simply talk to the chat as i use this pretty little mouth as my personal fleshlight. make even a singular sound and see what happens."

again, you nod dumbly. he shifts forward in his chair and switches on his microphone. you don’t bother focusing on the lame excuse he bothers giving his viewers. instead, your direct that attention towards his throbbing member once again.

the instant you wrap your lips around it, choso doesn't waste another second. he wraps your hair around his hand for leverage as his hips piston in and out of your giving mouth. he's hitting the back of your throat each and every time, and god, the feeling is everything.

you're trying not to gag or moan, and that's now where your attention is. choso's doing most of, if not all, of the work. why should a beautiful thing like you have to think so hard?

you know that choso is close, as evidenced by his clenched jaw and the way he bites his lower lip, almost to the point of drawing a bead of blood. and despite that, he's doing a marvelous job of interacting with the chat, occasionally laughing at a joke or graciously thanking someone for their donation.

after three more thrusts, the sudden taste of his seed coats your tounge as he cums down your throat with a sharp inhale—which you swallow greedily.

choso eases you off of his spent cock, apologetically rubbing your scalp. he notices a small drop of his cum that lingers on your lower lip. quietly huffing, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

"alright guys, i'll be logging off for the night," choso informs, moving to close out the game with a few clicks here and there. "thank you all for watching, and i'll see you tomorrow."

as the cursor is hovering over the button to end the broadcast, a singular message catches his eye.

kalatiii : did anyone else hear something or someone gag?

ʚɞ a/n ; lord it took me forever to write this LMDAO, but i hope you enjoyed!!

— 🏷 :: @kalatiii , @jiyuspassion , @lilithkleia , @xxvendettaxx , @yoonsucks , @satorusdreamer , @kamislop , @valberryboos , @hangenism .

' being loved by satoru gojo ' giggling squealing kicking my feet warnings : idfk fluff , gojo being head over heels for you

taking a break after a long day of training and instructing a bunch of stubborn teenagers, you and shoko were sitting in the staff room---discussing things that gojo has done for you that seemed totally normal.

to you.

"satoru left a mission halfway through one time because i said i missed him." you shrug.

shoko nearly choked on her coffee, "he did what?"

you didn't understand why shoko was reacting. i mean, that was totally normal. ...right?

she places her mug down, eyeing you suspiciously. "how often does he carry your bags?"

"all the time."

"open doors?"

"yeah?"

"buys you things?"

"well, obviously."

every one of your answers to her questions, shoko grew more and more confused. she knew that you two were dating, but she always assumed he didn't really get attached to people. well, not like that at least.

shoko clears her throat, "you know he doesn't do any of that for the rest of us, right?" she lowers her voice. "last week i asked him to pass me a pen and he threw it at my head."

"what?" you gasp---and that's when the flashbacks hit you.

gojo automatically ties your shoelaces even though he knows you're more than capable.

gojo carries you when you're tired.

gojo remembering your coffee order.

gojo giving you his jacket before you can even say that you're cold.

gojo dropping everything when you call.

each memory gets progressively more embarrassing because of your obliviousness. so, after the break with shoko, you went looking for gojo for confirmation.

finding him on the field, watching and instructing yuji and megumi while they train together, you approach him.

"do you really do all those things because you love me?"

gojo blinks, "well hello to you too," he chuckles deeply, turning to face you. "explain, sweetheart."

you huff, "like.. everything! you tie my shoelaces, you buy me things without asking, you carry me when i'm tired---"

"who else would i do it for?"

"...shoko says normal boyfriends don't carry spare hair ties." your lips purse together, turning your face away.

gojo tilts his head to the side, placing his index finger under your chin to guide your face back to his. "normal boyfriends are losers."

okay eat this up before i move onto my rin itoshi mini series

this isn't the way megumi thought he would be starting his day.

his forehead is pressed into the back of your neck, thrusting into you lazily from behind. he’s moving slowly, the both of you still ridden with sleepiness as his cock slid in and out of your squelching cunt.

his tip gently prods your sweet spot with every press forward, gentle moans falling from your lips as you nuzzled the side of your face into the pillows.

you moved your thigh higher against his own, making every stroke inside you easier. “taking me so good, sweetheart..” megumi groaned from behind, thrusting into you deeper while keeping that sweet, slow pace.

megumi wouldn’t complain about it though, he's been straining against his boxers ever since he woke up this morning. lazily grinding against you slowly as he craved to be buried to the hilt inside of you, filling you with his cum.

he was bound to wake you up eventually. his gentle kisses along your face waking you up before his grinding could, squeezing your tits through your thin sleep shirt, taking advantage of the fact that you sleep braless as he kissed your most sensitive areas.

it was only a matter of time before you grew needy, too.

his hand found purchase on your hip, guiding you to meet his languid thrusts. you were undeniably wet, squeezing his cock just right as squelches filled the quiet room, mixing with your sleepy whimpers.

he began placing stray kisses anywhere his lips could reach, thrusts slowing to deep grinds and pushes, a small moan slipping from his lips before he could stop himself.

“you feel so good, baby…can’t believe i get to have you like this” he whispered against you kiss stained skin, hips grinding slow circles behind you, cock twitching inside your warm walls.

megumi tends to get sappy when he’s sleepy or making love to you, this morning, it’s both. he’s stilled inside you, another sleepy moan coming from him as you spasmed around him. you whined in protest, pushing back against him, your walls sucking him in further, trying to get him to move.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, picking up his thrusts once more as his lazy paced resumed. “felt too good, ‘m sorry baby.” he mumbled, sealing his apology with another soft kiss.

it did almost feel too good, pleasure blooming between your legs as his tip kissed spots inside you that you barely knew existed, pulling soft whimpers out of you as you gently tugged on the sheets.

slow sex always felt better for the both of you, the intimacy of making each other feel good, and taking your time with it, always had the both of you finishing better than usual.

you began dripping on the sheets below, his dick driving in and out of your sensitive walls as he fucked into you deeper. he’s glad you can’t see his face, a blush blooming on his pale cheeks as he thrusts into you in steady strokes, coaxing an orgasm out of the both of you as you coated his dick in your arousal.

his hand drifted off your hip, now sliding down to your tummy, feeling his cock head pressing against your skin every time he slowly bottomed out. he whimpered, the sensation of him so deep inside you was almost too much for him to handle, shuttering behind you as he pressed his hand further down on your stomach.

you let out your first loud moan of the morning, hips pressing back to meet his thrusts as your own hand trailed down to shakily rest on top of megumi's. "don't stop baby—please..i’m so close.” you whined free hand snaking down to your neglected clit, rubbing slow circles as he groaned behind you.

he began kneading the bulge, keeping that same careful rhythm of his thrusts, coaxing you to cum for him. “i won’t stop..promise” he said between kisses, lifting his head from your neck to admire you properly. the sight of you, feeling so much pleasure because of him, almost had him spilling inside of you before you could finish.

“my pretty girl..” he whispered, voice low and laced with affection, kissing you shortly. “let go for me, know you can.” his encouragement had you spasming around him, your orgasm rushing through you, warm and sweet as you kept dizzy circles on your clit, whimpering his name between aroused gasps and breaths.

your cum soaked him, leaving him breathless in awe as his thrusts stuttered, your walls trying to milk him for his worth. “just like that, came so sweetly for me.” he cooed, voice a bit strained as he chased his own orgasm.

a few more deep thrusts and he’s spilling inside you, warm cum filling you in thick spurts, riding it out with slow grinds as he gripped the fat of your stomach a bit tighter as his orgasm ran through him.

he breathed deeply, kissing your cheek before nudging his nose against yours, a silent request for you to kiss him. you turned your head to face him, lips pressing against his sweetly, overlooking the morning breath the both of you tasted.

it’s something about how heavy sukuna is.

when he walks, it demands attention. every step filling up the sound, the area, the density around you so you know that he’s coming.

it’s even in the slight shake of the little trinkets adorning your coffee table as he drops in the couch, his heavy arms on either side of the long couch back.

or how small everything looked in his hands, how loud it was when he set something down even if it was meant to be light.

how harsh a slap to your ass felt every time you walked past him.

or when his big hands engulfed your waist no matter what you did.

how his body covered yours if you were even washing the dishes, grabbing your keys, beneath, over, under him and even in the shower.

even his fucking shadow dominated yours.

he was just big. and you loved it.

We lost an entire section of the MAIN STORY.

The livestream literally told us Valko's release was going to reveal more about the Aethercore—one of the biggest mysteries in Love and Deepspace and something that's been central to the plot from the very beginning.

So now what?

You think they can just delete him and nothing changes?

Do people genuinely think you can rip out an entire story arc without consequences?

Everything that was supposed to be revealed through Valko now has to be rewritten, redistributed, or outright cut. The main story is going to have to be retconned. Future updates are going to have to be reworked. Characters may have to be rewritten just to fill the gap he leaves.

If you're celebrating this because you "won," I sincerely hope you understand what you've actually cheered for.

sukuna was used to getting hit on. normally, he flat out rejects anyone that even makes an attempt to flirt with him. tonight he's taken you on one of your usual date nights, but imagine his surprise when the woman who approaches your table is hitting on you instead of him!

"ryo. ryo, ryo, ryo, i don't know what to get!" you pout, extending a leg underneath the table to graze your husband's calf as he grunts, brows pinched together in concentration as he stares down at the menu

"doesn't matter. i'm ordering half the stuff they have here anyway... you hungry for dessert too?" he questions, and you give him a deadpan look before he dramatically rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you that has the corner of his mouth tipping upwards in a smirk

"fatty," he murmurs, and you make a point to dig the tip of your heel into his shoe, yet even through the pain, he maintains that annoying grin, and you shake your head with a laugh

the restaurant sukuna chose to take you out to tonight was located on the outer edges of the city near the water. your seating is overlooking the ocean, and you're not sure where you should stare—either at the lapping waves shimmering underneath the sparkling sun, or at your husband (an equally irresistible sight). he's wearing a tight black shirt with the first few buttons open, revealing the intricate details of his tattoos and the large expanse of his muscles and chest

a waitress eventually approaches your table. she's pretty—tall, lean, and wearing a dark red lipstick that suits her well—and you feel your heart sink a bit. you're sure she was staring at your table earlier, and you'd already assumed she was keeping an eye out on sukuna. almost subconsciously, you sit a little taller in your chair as she greets you two

"hello! i hope you guys are doing well. what can i get started?" she starts in an extra sweet voice, and you avoid her eyes and instead drum a single manicured finger against the table to distract yourself

you know you have nothing to feel insecure about, but anyone would feel a bit down if attractive women were constantly hitting on their husband, right?

without looking up, sukuna starts

"i'll have a plate of crab cakes, four fish tacos, one chicken marsala, one miso marinated black cob, two fettuccini pastas, one lobster ravioli, and one lava cake—and the center of it better not be undercooked. my wife doesn't like whenever it happens and i want her dessert to be nothing short of perfection." sukuna finishes, and the waitress looks genuinely distressed as she quickly jots down everything he said

"uhm, and all that is for just the two of you?" she questions hesitantly, and sukuna's gaze snaps up with a scowl

"yeah. and?"

you try to stifle your laughter as she quickly shakes her head with a smile, still writing everything down. your husband was... a bit of a big eater.

"no, no, i was just wondering— oh. did you say wife?" she frowns, and you try not to wince at twinge of disappointment in her voice

"if you were thinking i'm single, you're out of luck." sukuna states boldly, not bothering to give her any further attention as he folds up the menu and hands it to her

"uhm... i wasn't wondering about you. i was wondering about you." — and suddenly her gaze is pinned on you, and your eyes widen a fraction

"me?" you squeak in disbelief, and she smirks. it's cocky and slanted and it instantly reminds you of your husband's habit when he's teasing you, and you can't even try to hide the smile on your face as you cover it with your hand, caught off gaurd and embarrassed

"yes, you. you are beautiful. so, are you happily married to this guy, or just marri—"

"that's enough." sukuna stammers, and he looks genuinely mortified by the look of curiosity on your face. you giggle, shaking your head

"thank you... you're very beautiful too." you smile, and she actually blushes at your words, telling you she'll be out with your food soon as she walks back inside the restaurant with a lot more pep in her step than before

sukuna reaches over to pull your hand out of your lap and onto the table, and he adjusts your ring with furrowed brows as you giggle

"ryo—"

"i can't believe that woman's audacity—hitting on my wife! when i get home, i am writing the most deplorable review of this restaurant." he snaps as you let out a sudden laugh

"don't be silly, you big grump! she was nice," you smile, and he drags a hand down his face as if this was the worst day of his entire life.

sukuna wasn't used to women hitting on you. no man ever tried because all six feet of your husband was always looming behind you like a guard dog just waiting to rip someone's head off for looking at you too long, but he never suspected he had to look out for women too!

his brows are furrowed as he rubs a thumb over the diamond on your ring finger, and your gaze softens before you cradle his own larger hand in your own and press a kiss onto his knuckles. he blinks at you a few times before turning away with a huff, the tips of his ears a light shade of pink

"you're mine. you'll never indulge in anyone that tries anything with you, right?" he murmurs, still staring at your interlocked hands as you pout

"of course not." you promise gently, and he seems satisfied by your response as he holds your hand firmly in his own

after a moment of thought, he opens his mouth once again

"do you think we should make out to confirm our status for everyone else here?"

part one here!

you knew your nebulous position as the other woman was never going to last. when you’re the affair partner of both people in the same relationship, it’s inevitable that the truth will eventually come out. you just decide to have it happen on your own terms.

you escalate your own behaviour; with suguru, who you mostly have sex with and share the occasional drink, you up your antics. you leave behind lip gloss, you kiss bruises in places he won’t immediately notice, keep your nails sharper to scrape lines down his skin. you moan in his ear as he fucks you and ask, “what would your husband think, if he walked in here right now? watching me take you like i’m the one you’re married to?” just to relish in the way his voice strangles on a heavy groan as he comes.

with satoru, who’s far more interested in the emotional side of things, you devote yourself fully to the role of secret girlfriend. with suguru, you might be a nice, illicit fuck for when his husband’s busy. with satoru? you’re the partner he wishes his husband was. he takes you on elaborate dates, he buys you flowers, he flourishes with every sweet kiss and whispered affirmation. when he calls you late at night, paralysed with fear because he just knows his husband is cheating, you leave suguru in bed to console him from the safety of your bathroom. he can barely look at you when he fucks you, refuses to turn the lights on, then shudders in your arms as you nurture him in the aftermath.

it’s manipulative. you’re halfway in love with them from the thrill alone. you let it build and build, watch as their marriage slowly falls apart from their own actions, and, when it’s all coming to a climax, you arrange a threesome.

in the end, it’s easy. you invite them. suguru tells you happily that his husband’s out of the prefecture that weekend, and he misses you so much, sweetheart. can’t stop thinking about you. satoru tells you his husband is definitely with that homewrecker, so why can’t he spend a weekend with you? they don’t even care about the third, so long as you make sure they’re hot.

then they both show up, and it’s glorious.

after all, aren’t you blameless? it’s suguru that told you he wants something casual, satoru who said he doesn’t mind if you see someone else at the same time, since he’s doing the same. it’s not your fault they’re cheating. it’s not your fault they’ve accidentally fallen for the same woman outside of their marriage. it’s definitely not your fault that you accidentally arranged a threesome with both of them. how could you know? it’s not like suguru’s ever seen you snooping through his apartment. it’s not as if satoru has given you any details about his wayward husband, either.

there’s a moment of silence. of shock. they stare at each other in obvious disbelief while you smile cluelessly. you tell them you “just know they’re going to get along!” and they “have so much in common.” they don’t correct you. no, suguru does something better:

“it’s nice to meet you,” he says, perfectly neutral. “i’m geto suguru. i’ve heard a lot about you.”

satoru looks heartbroken. he looks angry. “gojo satoru,” he replies. “can’t say i’ve heard much about you.”

“looking forward to learning more, i hope.”

“something like that.”

you’re giddy with excitement. how couldn’t you be? they don’t even know. they’re playing some secret, private game between just the two of them, unaware that you know. that you’re a witness to it—better yet, that you’re an orchestrator.

they fight over who kisses you first, and when you goad them into kissing each other, satoru bites suguru so hard his lip splits. suguru growls, pulls him by the hair, and tells him that if he can’t mind his teeth like a good boy, suguru will tie him up so he won’t be able to use his hands, either.

somehow, that’s exactly what happens.

satoru bites and scratches as you all undress, a ball of tightly wound feeling he can’t quite get ahold of. when suguru kisses your neck, satoru tugs at his long hair so hard his neck cracks. after that, well, suguru doesn’t let it slide. he sits you in satoru’s lap and watches satoru bite his way across your tits before pulling his arms behind his back and tying him to the headboard. satoru’s legs follow, winding his calves to his thighs. it says something that satoru doesn’t argue.

“you act like you two know each other,” you say breathily, chest sore from where satoru bit your breasts on the wrong side of too hard, skin pinkening and indented with the shallow divots of his teeth.

satoru groans, watching as suguru pulls you away, situating you in his lap with your back to his chest and your legs spread over his thighs, presented to his husband. “never met the guy,” he says lowly, “and if i have, i don’t recognise him.”

“don’t worry,” suguru croons. “we are going to get very familiar.” his hand caresses down your side as he says it, thumbs rubbing strong circles into your skin.

satoru’s eyes stay fixed on your face.

suguru takes you apart with careful efficiency, teasing you until your pussy flutters with each brush of his fingers against your thighs, your navel, just short of the apex of your thighs. when he finally touches you where you want him, his fingers are long and slow and languid as he spreads you open, fingering you with lazy contentment as he sucks wet kisses down your neck and back. he leaves you straining and whining, makes satoru watch until he’s groaning as if he can feel the phantom touch of suguru’s every caress.

suguru bends you forward until you’re on your hands and knees, head just barely brushing against satoru’s knees. satoru parts his legs further, staring down at you with something close to awe. a little scared, a little sad, and very aroused. suguru crowds your back, bending over your figure and biting the shell of your ear as he slowly, slowly sinks into you.

“my good little wife,” suguru says, loud enough for satoru to hear. satoru chokes on his next breath, bordering on a sob. “should’ve married you, sweetheart. i could keep you like this forever.”

“suguru—“ satoru pants.

his skin is red and raw from his shuffling, his dick rock hard and straining against his black boxers. from the way his chest heaves, his eyes burn red-rimmed with tears, you’d think he’s the one being fucked. when he catches you looking, he lurches forward with a low groan, cut off as the rope tightens around his muscular thighs. he murmurs your name on a strangled groan.

a hand moves, grabbing you by the cheeks and pulling you to look over your shoulder, neck craning at an awkward angle. “ignore him, sweetheart.” suguru whispers in your ear. “eyes on me. he’s not the one fucking you so good, is he?”

“i could be,” satoru growls. “i have. fucked her hard and fast, like a whore. she must be, if she’s willing to fuck you.”

it’s mean, unnecessarily targeted at you when the ire is really directed at his husband. suguru’s eyes crinkle on a smile.

“that’s not a very nice thing to say, is it? she’s always so sweet, so good. maybe you just don’t fuck her right.”

“i’ll show you—“

you stop listening. suguru thrusts so hard and sure, just slow enough to have you craving more, just fast enough to satisfy you. stamina has always been his strong suit, and he fucks you into over sensitivity. his thumb moves, sitting heavy and mean over your clit, rubbing firmly against you with every thrust forward. you fall apart warbling his name, hands reaching backwards to scratch at his thighs. then he fucks you to tears, keeping eye contact with satoru, muttering filth in your ear all the while.

“should knock you up, so you have no choice but to marry me.” he says, watching as satoru’s mouth drops on a whine. “keep you happy and full in my bed, so you never have to leave. you’d be the perfect wife, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

satoru comes untouched with a breathy whine of your name. your name, as if his husband isn’t right there. as if he hadn’t just watched his husband fuck the girl he’d been playing around with. suguru follows soon after, spilling into you unprotected.

they both stay the night. you share a quiet, almost awkward breakfast, where you play the fool and chatter with your usual enthusiasm. when they leave, it’s at the same time.

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 Sukuna Ryomen's ゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ mumbling when he doesn't get his daily morning kisses .✦ ݁˖

The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, golden stripes across the tatami mats. Usually, you would spend at least ten minutes entangled in Ryomen's suffocating, four-armed embrace, enduring his rough-textured skin and sleepy grunts. But today, you were late.

You slid out of the futon, throwing on a robe and tying your hair back in a rush. You didn’t notice the immediate shift in the room's energy—the way the heavy, oppressive aura of the King of Curses suddenly stirred.

As you paced around the kitchen island, frantically brewing coffee and packing a bag, a towering figure leaned against the doorframe.

Ryomen looked a mess.

His pink hair was completely wild, his yukata hung loosely off one broad shoulder, and all four of his eyes were narrowed into slits. He crossed his upper arms, while his lower arms rested on his hips.

Then, the mumbling started.

“...unbelievable,” he growled softly, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that still carried the weight of sleep. “Brat wakes up, doesn't say a word. Walks right past me like I'm some common curse in the streets. After everything I tolerate...”

You paused, holding a spoon. “Ryomen, did you say something?”

He didn't look at you.

Instead, he stared intently at a spot on the kitchen wall, his lower jaw shifting as he continued to mutter under his breath. “I should dismantle this entire house. The audacity. A thousand years ago, men bled out in the dirt just for a glimpse of my face, and here I am, being ignored for a cup of bean water. Truly pathetic.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

You set the spoon down and turned to face him fully. “Are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I don't throw tantrums, human,” he snapped, though his eyes finally flicked to yours, burning with mock irritation. “I state facts. You lack discipline. You lack respect.”

He took a slow, deliberate step into the kitchen, his massive frame completely eclipsing the light. He didn't stop until he was inches away from you, trapping you between his chest and the kitchen counter. His extra hands came down on either side of you, effectively pinning you in place.

“Well?” he murmured, leaning his face down. His upper eyes were squinted shut in a pout he would die before admitting to, while his lower eyes watched your mouth. “Are you going to fix your mistake, or do I have to remind you who rules this domain?”

You laughed softly, reaching up to cup his jaw.

His skin was warm, and the rough markings beneath your fingers felt familiar.

“Good morning, Ryomen,” you whispered.

You leaned up and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. Instantly, the tense lines of his shoulders relaxed. Before you could pull away, his upper hands caught the back of your head, deep-fruiting his fingers into your hair to prolong the kiss, turning it into something possessive and deep.

When he finally let you go, a smug, satisfied smirk had replaced his scowl.

“Hmph...” he grunted, turning on his heel to head toward the porch, his yukata trailing behind him. “See that it doesn't happen again tomorrow. I won't be so lenient.”

© 2026 aeresha. All content is owned by @aeresha. Do not repost, edit, translate, or copy in any form across any platform.

HAPPY HOSHI DAY OMGG I love you sm my lil tiger I miss you so much and cannot wait for you to come home and dance your lil heart out 🐯🤎 (also I know it's also yeosang day stay tuned)

You dropped the roses you were trimming and moved towards the sound, only to collide with Sukuna who had materialized from nowhere, seemingly conjured by his daughter's cry. His entire body was tense, eyes scanning for threats, hands already forming into fists as he looks for his little girl.

"What. Happened." he demanded, voice dangerously low.

Before you could answer, your daughter came running around the corner, face streaked with fresh tears, breath coming in hiccupping sobs. The moment she spotted her father, she launched herself at him with the bling trust of a child who had never known anything but absolute protection.

Sukuna caught her easily, large hands lifting her as if she weighed nothing. His eyes continued to look around over her head, seeking for whatever had caused his daughter's distress.

"Tell me," he asked, the gentleness he forced into his voice at odds with the murderous look in his eyes, "what-" you saw how the muscles of his arms tightened, bracing himself for violence, "or who, made you cry."

She buried her face against his neck, her small body trembling, "Th-the c-clown," she managed between gut wrenching sobs. "Daddy... p-please make him g-go away!" her tiny fingers dug into his shirt, tears and snot smearing across his collar as she pressed herself impossibly closer, "He's sc-scary!"

Your shoulders sagged slightly with relief as you heard why your baby was crying. It wasn't a real threat... Which was good. The city festival had started yesterday, and performers of all kinds were wandering the streets, entertaining those who were out and about enjoying their day.

That relief died the moment you saw Sukuna's expression flicker through a range of emotions before settling on one you knew all too well: rage. 

satoru can't handle another. he's cum so many times that he's sobbing, his legs are shaking so much that you're almost concerned. you've been riding him for hours now, milking his dick over and over again: being filled up and fucked out and somehow managing to maintain the upper hand.

your boyfriends so weak, though, that he probably couldn't flip you over and fuck you if he tried. but he's got the strength to beg, so beg he will.

"please, baby, i can take another orgasm. i'll be okay."

"you'll pass out."

"and you are well within your rights to keep fucking me if i do!"

you slow the roll of your hips gradually, as to not deny him completely. he's looking at you with these blown out eyes, pooling with tears and lust and love beyond romance. it's spiritual. or he's just really cum drunk.

"alright," you lean down and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "i'll make you a deal: i'll stay still and if you can thrust up enough to make yourself cum, so be it."

"cardio?" satoru whines.

"problem? i can pull off and we can-"

you're jolted by a sudden harsh thrust upwards. satoru bullies his cock deep into you, enough to force the air from your lungs.