lou ♡

𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ you distract your nerdy boyfriend from studying with an overwhelming amount of kisses until he forgets what he was even working on.

✿ ◞◟) gojo satoru 𝓍 gn!reader

𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 suggestive, nerd!satoru, established relationship, domestic fluff, mutual pining . . . except they’re already dating, lovestruck!reader, satoru being the prettiest boy ever, lots and lots of kisses everywhere, satoru is a blushing mess.

the apartment smelled like old paper and the faint, slightly burnt remnant of instant coffee satoru had made hours ago and promptly forgotten about.

it was a familiar scent, woven into the fabric of your shared space, a testimony to the academic chaos that was your boyfriend’s life. the only light in the living room came from a single, scarred desk lamp, its yellowed beam creating a small, concentrated island of illumination on the mountain of books and papers that covered the table. and there, at the very center of this organized pandemonium sat gojo satoru.

you paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame, a small, private smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

this was your favorite version of satoru, not the charming, effortlessly brilliant student who could dismantle a complex theorem with a lazy grin, but this one; the one who was so deeply absorbed in his studies that the rest of the world ceased to exist. his glasses, a pair of sleek, dark-framed ones he only wore when his contacts got too dry from staring at a screen for hours, were perched on his nose, slightly askew. one of the legs was tucked behind his ear, the other was not, making the entire frame sit at a jaunty, almost comical angle, and he was completely oblivious to it.

he was dressed for comfort with a soft grey hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the lean, defined muscles of his forearms. his hair, that iconic, beautiful white hair that usually looked like a celestial cloud, was a disaster. soft tufts stuck up in every direction, a few stubborn strands plastered to his temple, a result of running his fingers through it. satoru’s head was propped on his hand, his brow furrowed as he stared at a particularly dense page of text, his lips moving silently as he read. he was so focused, so utterly adorable in his nerdy, intense concentration, that it made your chest ache with a wave of pure, unadulterated affection.

you met sukuna at the first year of university.

first day, first lecture, actually. he stepped in late, and the only empty seat left was beside you. you both stared at the professor in pure, utterly confused silence, question marks probably floating on top of your heads as you tried to gather anything. after five minutes, you simply turned and asked him to let you pass so you could leave.

he grabbed his stuff, joining you. he asked if you wanted to grab coffee, and that’s how it all started.

three years later, you were the untouchable sukuna ryomen’s girlfriend. your relationship was private, no one knew any details (it wasn’t like anyone would dare to ask sukuna, especially with the way his resting face was a terrifying glare to everyone else) and you two preferred it that way.

no one knew the details. no one knew how sukuna was deeply and utterly smitten— the scowling, terrifying, muscular 6’4 man turning immediately into lovesick puppy for you. clingy, needy, obsessed, your guard dog of a boyfriend never ever let you doubt his love. he always made it clear, whether it was his arm’s wrapped around you every chance he got, or him spamming your phone whenever you weren’t around, using any excuse to talk to you, or the way he dropped everything for you, making it clear you were his first priority, or the way he listened intensely to every word that left your mouth and noticed everything about you— which showed when he referenced your words from months ago, or bought you gifts you didn’t even mention, or could tell you weren’t okay from a single glance.

it really was not a lie that sukuna ryomen loved you. he knew it. you knew it. his frat knew it. everyone that really knew sukuna knew he loved you.

which was why the break up broke you.

that night didn’t even seem real. he had ignored you for a total of three days, replying to your texts dryly, which was already odd. then, he showed to to your place in the middle of the night, jaw clenched, eye bags dark, like he hasn’t slept in days. he didn’t elaborate, didn’t explain— simply told you he was tired, that he couldn’t do this anymore, and walked away.

like he didn’t just ruin you. like you two weren’t discussing your shared future a few days ago. like you two hadn’t already agreed what stupid fucking roses you wanted at your wedding. like he hasn’t kissed you so softly just a few days ago, murmuring soft pleads for you to never leave him.

to make it worse, he didn’t disappear after. he attended your shared lectures as usual— sitting behind you, always behind you, like he needed to keep you in his vision. he left your notifications on, which you knew because he remained the first to view every story until you blocked him. he kept going to your favorite cafe beside campus (he didn’t even like their coffee) at the exact same time you always did, his sad eyes set on you, buying a single water bottle each time, until you stopped going. you even had to stop going to the library late at night, because he would always be there, blank notebooks open as he pathetically pretended to focus when his eyes wouldn’t leave you alone. even late at night, when you would scroll through your chats, you would see his bubble. tying. erasing. there.

it was worse, because it was obvious that he still loved you.

it made you want to scream, really. it would have been better if he just… pretended you didn’t exist. ignored you. blocked you first. flirted with girls in your vision. did anything to make you feel like he didn’t care anymore. like he didn’t give a fuck, so you could move on. so you wouldn’t get the stupid urge to show up to his place and ask him what the fuck his issue was. so you could hate him.

but again, unfortunately for you, sukuna was never good at hiding his love for you.

it was going to be okay, though. because sukuna already broke it up, and moving on was clearly the only good solution. it wasn’t like he will ever come back, anywa—

bzzz.

dilf420: bro. ur fucking bf is sulking and ruining my party. can you come pick his drunk ass up. ill pay u.

you blinked once at the notification, then twice, then immediately opened it. you really should have blocked the whole frat.

you: broke up. no longer my bf. also, ur broke.

toji replied immediately.

dilf420: idc that u two broke up he’s drunk and blabbering about missing his fucking wife come pick his ass up

you stared at the dm blankly, eyes staring at the words like it would disappear if you blinked.

his fucking wife.

your throat felt dry. heart physically hurting, like someone’s fingers were digging into the muscle and squeezing it the way sukuna used to squeeze your fingers before kissing each knuckle. it hurt, so much, your vision slowly blurring the longer you stared at the three words.

on the other side of the phone, sukuna was pressed against toji, shoving his face into the cracked screen, face flushed from the alcohol, lips almost pouting, hair messy from running his hands through it so many times. “is she answerin’?” he muttered, voice slurred. “my pretty wife, is she comin’?”

toji sighed. “nah, man. she left me on read. you’re so fucked.”

sukuna groaned, stumbling slightly before he was leaning on the wall, eyes shut in pure devastation. “she hates me. what if she doesn’t wanna get back?”

“…you showed up at three in the morning and broke up with her without giving her a reason, bro. on gojo’s soul, she does not want to get back.”

it was silent for a few seconds before a quiet sniffle echoed in the room, and toji’s head snapped to the untouchable, scary figure sliding down the wall, face buried into his hands, shoulders trembling. toji’s eyes widened briefly, but sukuna grunted, the sound shaky. “not a fucking word.”

the next monday, you were still recovering from toji’s dm as you slid into your morning, 8:30 am lecture. you were half-asleep, buried in sweatpants and a hoodie, hood up in an attempt to hide from the world. your eyes were drooping sleepily, head slowly slipping from where your head rested on your palm, the tip of your pen slowly seeping ink into the paper.

someone slides beside you, and you freeze. you knew that cologne. you bought that cologne.

you didn’t move a muscle, shoulders tense, eyes suddenly focused as they stared ahead. you could feel his gaze, his thigh pressing against yours in the annoyingly small seats. you could feel the heat from his skin, even from the thick fabric of your sweatpants.

…what the fuck was he doing?

your jaw clenched, before you took a quiet deep breath, convincing yourself he must have not looked properly when picking a seat. it takes a few minutes, but you’re finally able to focus back on your professor again, ignoring the way you could feel his gaze shifting to you ever few seconds.

“…i’m sorry.”

you sucked in a sharp, annoyed breath, gaze still ahead, fingers tightening around the pen in your grasp, eyes unamused. he slowly placed a cup on your desk— your favorite coffee, from your favorite cafe. you froze, and you could see him wincing from your peripheral vision.

“…give me a chance explain, please?”

you carefully pushed yourself up, grabbing your bag and notebook, and silently stepped out of the hall. outside, toji was standing, a sigh on his lips as he caught up with you despite how you only spared him an annoyed glare.

“he loves you, you know that.” toji murmured. “give him a chance to explain.”

“no.” you muttered. “he’s a coward who left me without an explanation. now he wants to give me one?”

toji grimaced. “that wasn’t his brightest moments, but… come on, he’s your sukuna.”

“he made it clear he’s not.”

that night, you were dragged to one of their parties, curtesy of gojo begging you to show with tears and snot running down his face, using a lame excuse about how everyone in the frat misses you. you didn’t buy it, but you had to stop the embarrassingly loud bawling boy on your doorstep.

now, you sat in their kitchen, perched on the counter, an overly sweet drink between your fingers, and a staring ex-boyfriend on the other side.

sukuna was sulking.

eyes set on you, lips pursed, arms crossed— he ignored everyone who stared at him just so he could keep his eyes on you. geto and nanami sighed as they passed, geto offering him a bottle casually, and sukuna grabbed it, eyes still on you before he tilted his head back and drowned half the bottle down, only stopping when nanami pulled it back while snapping about expensive liquor.

the thing about sukuna? he was a lightweight, and an emotional drunk. that usually manifested in a shorter temper when he wasn’t with you, and him being unbelievably clingy with you, and now, a few hours after gulping random drinks down?

it manifested in him dragging himself to stand in front of you, lips wobbling and eyes tearful, looking like a kicked puppy instead of the frat bro everyone was terrified off. “baby…”

you hated how your own heart clenched, fingers digging into your palm to prevent yourself from cooing at him and tugging him into your hold safely. you only narrowed your eyes at him, and his eyes glossed even more. he opened his mouth, probably to beg, only to halt dangerously.

you, unfortunately, knew him too well. you let out a loud groan, quickly jumping off and dragging him to an empty bathroom upstairs, shutting the door just in time for him to drop to his knees and empty his stomach out into the toilet. he let out a choked sob between retches, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a hand slowly rubbing his back. “dumbass.”

“i miss you so much,” he immediately whimpered, eyes shut painfully. “i miss you so, so, much. please, angel, forgive me, please— i want you back, i need you back, ‘m a stupid son of a bitch for every breaking it off, i need you in my life, please—“

he was interrupted with another gag, and you sighed, resuming to rub his back as he continued, your own vision blurry, heart shattering at the broken sob he let out once he was done.

“breathe.” you murmured softly. “come on, kuna, breathe for me. you can do that, yeah?”

“no,” he choked out. “i can’t— can’t even breathe without you, baby. please, please, forgive me for being a dumb idiot, i need my wife back, please—“

“if you breathe now, and we can talk tomorrow.”

it was almost humorous how he immediately straightened up, red, watery eyes wide, nose red and cheeks flushed from the alcohol. you sighed, reaching over to wipe his tears away, and he let out a pathetic whine, immediately leaning into your touch. you finally helped him up, forcing him to brush his teeth before you opened the door, quietly leading him into his room.

inside, he immediately flopped into bed, tired, sad eyes staring up at you. “you’ll… talk to me, right? please, baby?”

“tomorrow,” you murmured, throwing him a pair of shorts. “just sleep now, okay?”

he nodded frantically, eyes shutting quickly, obediently.

no one would believe this was the version of sukuna ryomen you knew— now when everyone else got the loud, short-tempered, rude, asshole version of him. you stared at him softly, watching his breathe even out, eyes fluttering shut, before you sighed softly, and stepped out of his room.

the next morning, you woke up to sukuna in front of your door, hair messy and eyes exhausted, yet holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee, the other messily trying to adjust his shirt to look more presentable. the second you opened your door, eyes sleepy and hair messily, lips pulled into a frown, he froze.

red eyes widened softly before his body relaxed, eyes softening, and breathed out slowly. “…hi.”

you reluctantly opened the door wider, letting him in. he stepped in, 6’4 solid figure suddenly seeming small, gently setting the items down, hands that are used to throwing punches leaning down to carefully adjust a delicate petal before he straightened up, eyes falling back on you, so full of unsaid emotions that they were already glossing over.

after a few seconds, he swallowed harshly, throat bobbing before he took a step closer. “i missed you.”

you frowned, eyes narrowing. “why did you break up, sukuna?”

“please,” he choked out the second the name escaped your lips, eyes wide in pure devastation. “please, angel. ryo, kuna, baby, pretty boy— anything but that.”

your frown deepened. he let out a defeated, shaky breath, and stepped even closer. “i broke it because i was a fucking idiot. i… i never loved someone so much, angel, i never cared about someone so much. you made me the happiest person alive, and… i knew you deserved better.”

you froze. he sniffled, taking another step closer, eyes desperately and voice breaking. “angel, i… i’m a selfish, possessive asshole, and you deserve someone perfect. i was so scared that you’ll wake up one day and end it, so i… just did.”

your vision clouded with tears, and he dropped to his knees, eyes wet with unshed tears. “i was a stupid, fucking idiot. i should have stayed, talked to you, got the reassurance i know my angel would give me, but i didn’t want to be selfish… i thought i was doing what’s best for you…”

he let his head drop, face falling to press against your abdomen, a loud, pained whimper escaping him. “turns out i was a fucking idiot for ever considering letting you go. i… i have been miserable, angel, bawled my fucking eyes out an embarrassing amount of times. i miss you so much, baby, i can’t— i can’t live with you. i can’t sleep, eat, breathe,” he gasped, hands trembling as they slowly reached to hold into your waist, and let out a louder sob once his fingers touched your body, tears soaking your shirt. “i need you in my life, angel. please, i can’t live without you. my heart only exists to beat for you. i was a fucking moron to ever think about letting you go. you deserve so much better— and i promise, ‘ll be better. i’ll be a better boyfriend, a better partner, a better everything— just, give me a chance,”

you sniffled. the second you did, his head snapped up, eyes wide and tearful and horrified, and he immediately shot to his feet, ignoring his own soaked face as gentle fingers slowly cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away. “please don’t cry, i can’t handle you being upset, please—“

“you idiot.” you finally whispered. he froze, eyes wide and pained, and you only stepped closer, letting your head drop into his chest. his arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you until no space existed between you both. “are you stupid?”

“i am. i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered back. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m—“

“shut up.” you croaked out. “you’re an idiot. i love you as you are, you asshole.”

“i know, baby. i’m sorry.” he buried his face into your neck, his tears damping your shirt once more. “i’m never leaving you again, angel. not even physically— i’ll be so clingy you’ll get sick of me. i can’t live without you, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

you let him hold you, eyes shut tiredly. “…idiot.”

he let out a sharp laugh, holding you even tighter, pressing wet kisses all over your face until a smile broke on your pretty lips, and you could physically feel him finally breathing normally, still pressing kisses to your face, gentle and needy and desperate. “i know, angel. only an idiot would ever walk away from you. never, ever again. i love you. never, ever again. i’ll marry you, my love. never leaving you again.”

✦ mdni ／ thinking about big, big soft dominant men ..

who have you in a headlock but can’t help acting like a puppy, when they have your poor back arched into the meanest doggy imaginable but he’s just doting on you, a thickly corded bicep around your throat and he’s kissing and crying and huffing into the back of your neck about how good you’re being, how good it feels, about how much he loves you.

“o-oh my god, y-you..”, but you can’t even get the words out, and all you can do is let your angel eyes flutter shut and drool onto his squishy pillows while he pounds your pretty pussy, with the rhythmic smack of his hips against the backs of your thighs at the forefront of any other noise.

his deep voice is low in your ear, rough from how much he’s been whimpering and whining even more than you are.

“y’takin’ me s’fucking good, baby, I… I can’t, it f-feels…” and he just groans against your shoulder, digging his blunt nails into your hips, so hard that he can feel the bone but it doesn’t hurt you. he’s just desperate, grabbing hold to ground himself so he doesn’t collapse on top of your much smaller body.

his hips stutter and he pulls out, just leaving his fat tip inside and the way it catches on your entrance makes you mewl. he’s breathless, stilling just a moment before sliding back inside and making you take all of him, all over again. he’s big, at least eight inches, and your tight cunt stretches to accommodate him, he exhales sharply, his middle finger finding your clit to ease it along. you shiver, pressing your hips back into his.

“fuck,” he sighs with hearts in his pretty eyes, fucking you with deep strokes and grinding when he bottoms out just to feel the way that your perfectly ribbed, velvety walls hug and massage his length with each push and pull. it’s addicting for both of you, and you’re both so fucking wet, with his cock absolutely coated in your sweet slick and his own precum. it bubbles and sticks around his girthy base, making a cute little smack every time that he fucks into your warm, perfect pussy.

he resumes his pace, this time with one of his massive hands placed carefully on the back of your neck while he hammers into you. it makes you yelp before the sweet sound melts into a slutty moan, your eyes almost roll back, clenching down on his big, thick cock and feeling as your mixed cum sprays and drips down your thighs.

“that’s it, that’s my girl … this cunt is mine.” his words might sound possessive but his voice is soft and so, so affectionate. “y-yessir, s’yours,” you babble and hiccup, agreeing without thinking .. without realizing that you just verbally signed a lifelong contract in his eyes.

but you’re in love with him and luckily for you, he’s always happy to make you feel this good. ◟♡

[content: MDNI, crack smųt, a very unserious piece of work, piv, hair pulling, use of aphrodisiacs, sukuna’s sour but then he’s sweet]

Never in your life have you been so horny it hurt.

“Kuna, please—harder,” you cry out.

“I’m going as hard as I fucking can, you little slut,” he snaps, each thrust matching every harsh word that gets spat through his teeth. “THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T EAT RANDOM. CHOCOLATE. ON. THE. COUNTER.”

“I’m sorry! Fuck!! I didn’t know!”

“There was a note saying DON’T eat it—you just didn’t give a shit because you’re a thief and a glutton. A liar now, too,” he continues to scold you over the chocolate bar he was going to give to Jin so he’d stop groveling over his ex. It’s been 6 fucking months, he’s tired of having to listen to him go on and on about Kaori. Enough is enough—he needs to go out and sleep with someone.

And now Jin’s never going to shut up. Sukuna doesn’t even want to look at you right now—let alone reward your behavior with dick.

“And now you’re cryin’ like it’s my fuckin’ fault.” It’s him who should be crying right now. “It’s simple: Leave my fucking snacks alone. I always get multiples of each so you’d keep your grubby little hands off them. Why can’t you just be normal and go in my wallet?? Fuck—Arch that back some more.” He cracks his palm over your ass. “Yeah, hike it up nice and high.”

“I can’t!” It feels like it’s about to break with all the weight he’s putting on it! Both of his hands pinning you down, burying every last inch of his cock inside of you.

He scoffs, nudging for you to close your thighs, then planting his knees right next to yours so they stay that way. “Do you want to cum?”

“brat stop hogging my girlfriend.” toji groaned out, trying to get into the covers to try to cuddle you for the past fifteen minutes—only to be met with his menace of a son trying to attack him.

“papa’s stinky.” 

you could barely stifle your giggles before megumi nuzzled into your side, only to turn his head to give his father a stinkeye.

“he’s just a baby, toji.”

“he’s hogging you.”

“and you don’t?”

“i have every right to, no?” he said, trying to pull you by the waist, his lips pressing softly against your neck while he tried to make himself comfortable—only to have megumi bite his arm the second he tightened them around you.

“megumi fushiguro. let me cuddle my girlfriend to sleep.” he snapped, all for megumi to just stick his tongue out at him before moving closer to you. 

“the two of you are horrid.” you groaned, trying to bury yourself in the blankets while both of them fought over you like lunatics—with toji sticking his tongue out right back at megumi.

“i hope you realise you’re fighting a four year old.”

“doll, he’s a lot smarter than he looks.” 

“oh, i know.”

“you’re way too biased.”

you rolled your eyes at him, watching him get into a staring contest with him, with you stuck between the two of them. toji tried to pry you away from megumi, he really did, only to have him bite him, claw at his hands, only to bat his eyelashes at you, jut his lip out until you caved.

“hmph.” 

“what is it, gumi?” you asked, hugging him closer while he looked over his dad’s shoulder just to smirk at him.

“daddy always gets t—to have you, it’s not fair!” 

“aww it’s okay megumi, i’m not going anywhere.”

“manipulative prick.”

“that’s your son.”

“i know what he is.”

i wrote this in the car while waiting for my cousins so sorry if its highkey ass

Blinking awake into the dim blue-gray haze that fills the bedroom, Sukuna’s mind lingers in a heavy, half-dreaming state, and the first thing he notices is the empty stretch of mattress at his side. Fingers drift across the sheets, searching out of habit, only to find nothing but cold where warmth should be.

For a moment, he just lies there, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shake the fog of sleep that refuses to let go. Only when the red glow of the alarm clock finally catches his eye does he move, brow creasing as the numbers come into focus. 4:03.

It’s the weekend. Both of you had gone to bed together hours ago, so there’s absolutely no reason for you to be anywhere else.

"let me gooo, i want to make my coffee," you whined softly, the tone made it apparent that you couldn't hold a smile at the sight of your usual collected man being so clingy. provoking him further, you once more tried to release the grasp of his hand on your stomach. the man responded with a disapproving grunt, the vibration from his lips against your skin made you shiver.

"stay, please. i'll make it for you later," he pleaded, trailing lazy kisses along your shoulder blade in hope to get you stay in bed, going as far as bringing his leg over both of yours, practically keeping you in his embrace. you chuckled.

"but i want it now," you replied, yet despite those words you couldn't help but put your hand on his cheek, seeing how the blond nuzzled closer to it, chasing the contact like a cat basking under the attention.

"not yet," he murmured, doubling down by gently turning you over, bringing you closer as you rested your head on his chest. you caved under his relentless touch, both his arms folded snugly behind your back. nanami wore a satisfied smile, like he just achieved something great. "i need another hour of this. of you."

"didn't know i'll be held hostage in some mornings when i went into this marriage," you teased, the comfort of his warm hug made you abandon the scheme you never planned to follow through. your fingers made their way to draw random patterns on the navy shirt he was wearing.

he caught your digits, planting a soft kiss at the back of your hand, "and you promised to accept me as i am in your vow, so i'm afraid you'll have to put up with this for the rest of your life."

you laughed.

in which satoru gets glasses and his baby daughter can't recognise him! (ó﹏ò｡) part 1 of my 1k celebratory series, i hope you enjoyy!!<3

content: husband!gojo x reader, dadjo fluff ♡⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k

“ta-da!”

you’re busy cutting up fruit for your daughter when you hear your husband’s voice followed by the sound of the front door clicking shut, signalling his arrival home. the familiar sound of him shrugging off his coat and making his way to the kitchen reaches your ears, and so you quickly finish up cutting the strawberries and apple slices before turning your attention to the kitchen doorway.

“hey toru—” you begin. before you can finish, however, you’re forced to cut your own words off, your eyes falling upon satoru’s face. a blank, slightly puzzled expression crosses your features.

“…since when did you have glasses?”

“since today!” he grins, slipping them off and turning them over in his hands. “nanami was saying how my eyesight has been kinda lacking recently, and i thought he had been overreacting buuut…guess he was right!” he nods his head towards the glasses in his hands with an eager smile.

sighing and rinsing your hands clean of the fruit juice, you reach forward to take the glasses into your own hands, wanting to see them for yourself. “you don’t give the poor man enough credit, you know.”

“…okay rude! i give him plenty of credit where it’s due!” he retorts. he watches with a fond expression as you hold the glasses out in front of you, your brows furrowed as you test the lenses.

“wow, satoru!” you gasp jokingly. “i always thought that you were the strongest, but it seems like your prescription is even stronger!”

that earns you one of his signature pouts, his lip jutted out dramatically as he feigns offence, snatching the glasses back from your grasp and fixing them atop his face again.

“hey! i’ll have you know that i’m plenty stronger than my prescription.”

you roll your eyes playfully before you hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching from the living room, followed by an excited squeal. you turn to see your daughter rushing into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her father’s leg, and satoru lifts her up so that he’s holding her against his chest, face-to-face with her now.

“papa! papa come look, i made a princess castle with the big blocks and—” she cuts her words off abruptly.

what had been an excited expression — eyes blown wide and plump cheeks pulled into a huge smile — quickly turns into one of…confusion. she simply pauses and pulls her head backwards slightly to inspect him, staring blankly.

“..who are you?” she mumbles, and satoru wishes he could ignore the tone of disgust in her words. he forces out a tiny laugh.

“who am i? what do you mean, sweetheart?” he asks, sticking out his lip playfully once more. he leans forward to press a quick, teasing kiss to her nose, only for her to whine and lightly push his face away with her hand.

she turns her body in his arms so that she’s facing you, evidently having decided that the first answer wasn't satisfactory enough for her. “mama, who is he?”

the gasp that satoru lets out upon realising that she’s actually serious is comically loud. he simply stays stood there with a hurt expression, staring through thick lenses at his miniature version and looking as though she’s just scalded him.

“don’t you recognise me?” his voice has already raised an octave, tone offended, and he hastens to pull off the glasses, resolutely placing them upon the tabletop. “see, i’m your father..!” he turns to you now, eyes desperate, and it takes everything in you not to giggle. “sweets, tell her i’m her father!”

“toru, don’t be silly.” you make your way closer to where he’s stood with your daughter in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to her hair before speaking once more. “you recognise papa, right?”

“umm…” she studies his face, this time without him wearing the glasses, before nodding. “..mhm!” your daughter nods enthusiastically, a gummy smile stretching across her face once more. she extends her hands out to touch satoru’s cheeks, as though checking he’s really there in front of her. then, with a tiny satisfied nod to herself, she leans back into him, resting her head against his chest.

“papa, you looked funny.” she mumbles. you can’t help but laugh, but judging by the look on satoru’s face, the situation is anything but amusing.

“i looked…funny?” he mimics, his tone tainted with disbelief and a touch of devastation. his brows are pinched together, looking scandalised as he peers down at your daughter in his arms as she speaks.

“mhm…like different funny.”

you’re sure you can practically hear satoru’s heart shattering in that moment, his face falling completely. he stays stood there, studying your daughter’s face in silence before seeming to come to a decision, decidedly snatching his glasses off the table and inspecting them.

“then i won’t wear them.”

“what? toru, you have to!” you cut in, but his features are already set in that stubborn face that you recognise all too well.

“no — my own daughter doesn’t recognise me!” he places heavy emphasis on the word daughter, the betrayal and hurt evident in his voice. you roll your eyes, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh at his dramatics.

“satoru, you need to be able to see things — surely you’re not serious!” you protest.

“i’m super serious! never again.”

-

a tiny, foolish part of you had thought — or rather, hoped — that he’d been joking, that it was another one of his silly over-exaggerations, a dramatic declaration in the heat of the moment. except it wasn’t.

because now you’re sat watching satoru squint at his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, his handsome features practically stuck in place now in that same, discomforted expression. you hadn’t planned on bringing up the glasses again, already expecting the conversation to be a losing battle, but after a while you’d decided that you really couldn’t bear to watch him like that anymore.

“satoru…” you begin, not knowing quite how to get through to the 6’3” child in front of you. before you can begin, however, he cuts you off, having already anticipated your concern.

“i’m fine!” he insists, defiantly as ever. you notice your daughter’s head raise from where she’s doodling with her crayons, eagerly turning her head between you and her father in interest.

“you literally can’t see properly.” you retort.

“better that than have my own daughter not recognise me..” he grumbles. “she even said i look funny!”

you bite your tongue, deciding not to argue — instead, you let him continue scrolling on his phone, noting the way he continues to struggle to read the words on screen.

the same problem seems to crop up later, too, when he’s watching a movie with your daughter. you’re comfortably curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over your lap, meanwhile satoru and your daughter are both laying on their stomachs inside the makeshift den they’d constructed earlier. in all honesty, you’d better describe it as a mess of cushions and blankets simply propped up haphazardly — in fact, you can even see your husband’s long legs half sticking out from the back of the den.

movie nights have become a common occurrence for your little family, and it’s no secret that your husband absolutely does not take family nights lightly.

whether it’s board game nights, late-night arts and crafts sessions at the kitchen table or simply time for bedtime stories, he always goes out of his way to make sure it’s as enjoyable as possible for your daughter— and movie nights are no exception. so, in true satoru gojo fashion, the den floor is cluttered with snacks: a bowl of strawberries, a couple of mini juice cartons, some popcorn and a plate of freshly-baked brownies among others. honestly, how your daughter will make it to adulthood without developing dreadful cavities is beyond you.

they both lay there on their stomachs, brownie crumbs all over your daughter’s mouth and cheeks and a half-bitten strawberry in satoru’s free hand from when he’d been feeding her. every so often she rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes still glued to the tv screen, and during the funnier scenes of the movie she turns her head towards his, searching his face for laughter before joining in and giggling loudly.

everything about the night is perfect, except for one tiny problem. satoru can’t see.

he tries to focus his vision, tries to make out the figures of the characters on screen as best as he can, but they’re too blurry, the screen a mess of fuzzy outlines and colours.

truth be told, it probably wouldn’t matter too much anyway, considering the fact that he knows the movie inside-out from having rewatched it a million times with your daughter. but nonetheless, he keeps squinting at the screen for several minutes, trying to force himself to register what exactly he’s looking at, brows knitted in careful concentration.

unfortunately for him, however, your four year old is scarily perceptive when she wants to be. she notices his strange behaviour — the repeated eye straining, the way his lip is jutted out subconsciously in mild frustration, the tiny irritated groans that leave his throat every few minutes— before finally speaking up.

“what are you doing?” she tilts her head to the side, wide blue eyes observing her father’s face.

“nothing! just focus on the movie, okay?” he beams wide, but the look on her face tells him that she isn’t entirely convinced. she simply stares at him, studying his expression for a few seconds before seeming to have an idea.

your daughter suddenly hops up from inside the den with such haste that you jolt from your own spot on the sofa. you and satoru both turn to exchange a brief confused look, hearing the pitter-patter of her feet against the floors as she rushes through the house.

“you’re missing the movie!” your husband calls out, but it’s in vain — your daughter doesn’t respond, strangely unbothered. in any other situation she’d never miss a single second of movie night this easily. satoru fumbles with the mess of cushions and snacks on the floor before finally retrieving the remote and pausing the movie, and with a sigh, he rests his head against his palm, turning to face you.

“…wonder what she’s doing..” he mutters, and you nod in agreement.

after a few short minutes your daughter finally returns, plopping down firmly by satoru’s side and placing down his glasses case.

“papa, you need to wear these!” she says determinedly. her tone is reminiscent of your own one earlier, and the similarity makes satoru’s heart swell for a brief moment.

she struggles to open the case at first, her fingers fumbling over the box before your husband intervenes. he carefully moves her hands away so that she won’t trap her fingers, a fond smile on his face at her puffed out cheeks and her determined expression — or at least, whatever parts of those features he’s actually able to distinguish properly without his glasses on. slowly, she picks the glasses up and tries to put them onto satoru’s face, narrowly avoiding poking his eyes out in the process.

with the guidance of your husband’s hands atop hers, she manages to finally slide the glasses onto his face properly so that they’re resting atop his nose now. he blinks at the sudden change in his vision, his daughter’s soft wispy pigtails and sticky food-covered cheeks now coming into vision clearly.

it’s an odd moment for satoru, as though he’s rediscovering the sensation of being a father again. he finally feels able to pinpoint the exact position of her sweet features once more, her face in much clearly quality than ever before, and for a second he can’t remember why he’d ever refused to wear his glasses in the first place.

that is, until she seems to decide to remind him.

“yay! you don’t look too funny papa, so you can still wear them, okay?” she’s wearing a stern expression as she holds his face securely in place with both her hands, waiting for confirmation that he understands. he chuckles.

“…i don’t look too funny?” he echoes her words, a single brow raised in interest.

“yeah! you only look a little funny, so it’s okay to wear them.”

satoru can’t even find it in himself to feign offence — if anything, he laughs harder before nodding.

“okay then. thanks for the permission, sweetheart.”

author's notes: AHHH part one is finally up — i’m so sorry for the delay and i hope you guys like itt!! i’m hoping to get the rest of the parts done much faster than this one

Zayne’s evol hadn’t acted up in a long time. At least not since before your daughter was born. It’s why this moment is so terrifying.

“Papa?” Just barely aware of what’s going on, she rises on unsteady feet and begins to make her way over. Fear clenches around Zayne’s heart, crawling up his throat and preventing him from speaking.

Black ice coats his hands and crawls up with forearms. He tries to turn away from his daughter’s small, fragile form. But it’s too late, and a little hand rests on his shoulder.

“Papa? Don’t cry papa.” She peers over his shoulder, trying to see his face and what’s going on. He clenches his fist, doing everything in his power to keep the ice at bay. He wishes you were here, with your calming presence and evol capable of healing him.

“I help!” She presses both hands to his arm, but before he can get her to move away, he feels it.

A warm feeling begins to encompass him, the light of a resonance evol illuminating the room as the ice slowly begins to recede. He looks over in amazement, the concentrated look on her toddler face so similar to your own.

“Papa better?” Her eyes are wide, completely innocent to what has just occurred.

“Y-yes. Yes sweetheart. I’m better.” He hesitates for a moment, then slowly reaches out to pull her into a hug, kissing her cheek. She giggles, patting his back with her little hand.

“Papa silly!” She laughs as Zayne releases her, unable to resist tickling her to hear her laughter. The fear in his heart quickly dissipates at the sound.

°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔*⋆⭒˚｡⋆°❀.࿔

"I said no."

"Mom!"

"I said no, Yuji."

You tried to hold his hand and keep walking, but he yanked it away. He was screaming and crying in the middle of the grocery store, and you were doing your best to stay patient. He couldn't always get his way. He had to learn to take "no" for an answer.

"I want this!" he shouted even louder, grabbing the chocolate from the shelf.

You let out a sigh as you looked at him.

"You've already had chocolate today. No more, okay?"

You managed to take the chocolate from his hand and put it back on the shelf. Ignoring the fact that he was hitting and screaming, you lifted him into your arms.

"Mom! You're so mean!"

"No. I'm a good mom because I'm thinking about what's best for you."

Crying, he reached his arms toward his father and said, "I don't love Mommy!"

Your heart clenched at his words, but you knew he was only saying it because he was angry.

"Yuji-"

He ignored you, burying himself in his father's arms instead.

"Shh, that's enough whining, brat.'"

As you walked ahead, browsing the aisles, you had no idea Sukuna had quietly slipped the same chocolate into the shopping cart. Sukuna knew he'd be in trouble once you got home, but this time, he couldn't help siding with his son.

And he loved breaking your rules.

sukuna was tall. you often got neck cramps because he always wanted you looking in his eyes as he talked, but you happened to break your neck every time.

it wasn't just that either. every hug you gave him had your head pressed right up to his chest. you couldn't even reach his shoulder. he would pick you up just so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

sukuna had complaints too. he would quite literally break his back every time he kissed you. he swore he was starting to look like a shrimp as time went on. you were just too tiny.

even though he broke his back at every kiss, he loved how short you were. he loved picking you up and setting you on the counter. he still had to lean down to kiss you but it wasn't as much.

he loved how easy it was to grab and pick you up. if he wanted you on his lap, all he had to do was pull you by your waist. if you were in his way, he would just pick you up and set you aside.

you hated when he did that, but he found it hilarious.

the height difference never bothered sukuna, it was just an added bonus to loving you.

he would never ever wish you grew taller. you were perfect just the way you were.

well that, and he also loved seeing the top of your head.

satoru loved kissing you, whether it was your lips or your cheeks, shoulders or stomach. he’d press a kiss to the tip of your nose because he thought you were cute, your hand whenever it happened to be close enough. 

he just couldn’t resist you, ever. he kisses you right after you wake up and right before you go to sleep. he says he won’t have a good nights sleep if he doesn’t kiss you.

“mmf- toru… stop!” you giggle between his kisses. you had just gotten home from mall with your friends. satoru missed you dearly. and immediately when you walked through the door, he basically pounced on you. taking you in his arms and walking to the bedroom whilst kissing you everywhere.

“not a chance, sweets.” he mumbles against your collarbone. he puts you gently on the bed, kissing you from your cheeks, to your nose, your chin, your jaw. moving down to your neck and shoulders.

he goes lower and lower, while sliding off your dress, you help him, lifting your hips. he reaches your thighs, gently kissing down your knee, to your calf. he takes off your shoes and looks at you.

“i missed you so much, y’know.” he frowns, putting your dress neatly on the bed beside your body. he admires your half naked body and smiles softly.

“come here, baby.” you say softly, your arms wide open for him. 

he wastes no time in getting on top of you, and holding you close to him. breathing in your scent from your neck. your arms comfortably settled around him. one hand in his hair, caressing and playing with the soft locks. 

“don’t ever go anywhere without me…” he mumbles against your neck, kissing softly. 

“my big baby.” you smile and kiss him. he melts instantly, smiles against your lips and kisses harder. 

shortly after, you both fall asleep, in each others arms. 

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.

the atmosphere was calm, well as calm as it could be with sukuna there. 

you sat curled up in his lap while he yelled at toji through his headset for the nth time. you shifted slightly before slowly sliding out of sukuna's lap, he muttered a quick 

“where ya goin?” his eyes shifted towards you, now fully out of his grasp. 

“bathroom.” 

he let out a low hum and returned his hard gaze back to his monitor. 

-

“holy shit ryomen, yer washed.” toji snickered through the mic. 

“easy to talk when you pick OKC every fucking round.” sukuna snarled back.

“aye back to back dubs speaks for itself.” 

“its been two rounds already?” sukuna checked his phone, its been almost 2 hours since you left his lap. 

“two rounds of belt? yea bro.” a snort came out from sukunas headphones. 

“im hoppin off anyway to go out with my girl. cus i got other shit to do, like my girl. get it? cus i have a girlfriend.”  sukuna teased. 

“blah blah blah we get it asshat.” 

sukuna chuckled to himself before logging off and heading over to barge on you in the bathroom, which was locked? he lifted a heavy knuckle and tapped on the door twice. 

“babe, you takin’ a shit?” 

"D-darling—nnggh," Zayne whimpers as you take him deeper in your mouth, stretching your lips to accomodate his length.

You're knelt in front of him in his office, the doorknob frozen over with ice. He sits, flushed and chest heaving, while you hum around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks to give a harsh and illegally slow suck.

All Zayne wants to do is fuck your little throat until it holds him in place like a vice and see your expression choke up as you try to fit him entirely—he wants to watch you crumble, to grip your hair in his fingers and make you take it like the good girl you are.

But he doesn't. He doesn't.

Instead, he remembers your sultry words before you sunk down to your knees, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his leaky cockhead.

"No touching me," you had purred, lips vibrating against his slit. He had sucked in a sharp inhale, fingers trembling as he listened to what you had to say. "Or touching yourself, for that matter. Let me show you what your patients are capable of."

And so it had started: the teasing smear of his pre on your cheek, fat tip slapping along your bottom lip once, twice, before you took him into your mouth. Now, here you were, slippery fingers jerking what can't fit down your throat, the column constricting around him just right and making his legs shake violently until—

Pop!

You pull off, a glistening rope of saliva connecting your plump lips to vein on the underside of his dick. Zayne lets out a strangled, almost desperate groan.

Raising a kid was exhausting in ways that even running his territory wasn't. At least with his men, fear was a reliable motivator. His daughter, unfortunately, had inherited his utter lack and complete disregard for authority- a combination that was aging him prematurely…

The moment of relative calm shattered when she finished tending her sunflowers, and without warning, bolted toward the playground equipment.

"Oi!" Sukuna called after her, pushing off from the tree with an irritated grunt.

Either she didn't hear him or -more likely- was selectively deaf when it suited her... She scrambled up the ladder to the tallest slide structure with the agility of a monkey, her ponytail bouncing with each movement.

By the time Sukuna reached the playground, his daughter had bypassed the regular slide entirely and was instead perched precariously at the edge of the platform, tiny hands gripping the top of the fireman's pole that led straight down to the ground ten feet below.

"No." The single syllable carried a warning that would have stopped his most hardened criminals in their tracks. His voice was calm, almost bored sounding, but with an unmistakable edge of command.

To his shock -though perhaps it shouldn't have been shocking anymore- her little face scrunched up in defiance, and she shouted back as loud as her little lungs would allow, "NO!!!"

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his gaze locking with hers in a silent standoff… This was the second warning, and they both knew it. Her little legs dangled over the edge, hands still gripping the pole, poised to slide down a drop that was far too high for someone her size.

"You heard me," he said, voice dropping lower.

"NOOO!!!" came the high pitched response, followed by a pink tongue poking out between her teeth in blatant disrespect.

Sukuna's eyebrow twitched, a muscle in his jaw clenching visibly. Several nearby parents, now actively gathered their children and moved further away.

"You're going to fucking fall," he growled, not bothering to censor his language -not that he ever did-... "Don't. Do. It." Each word was punctuated, deliberate. The final warning.

"MOMMY WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE A MEANIE!!"

Sukuna's vermillion eyes widened. The fuck did this brat just say?