𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕤

“Okay, you may kiss me.” His voice laced with tease, he bends down to pucker up in your face and even though you didnt have the same ability as your special white haired boyfriend, it didnt take a rocket science to know what he was plotting behind those sunglasses.

You lean in, and as predicted you just couldn’t kiss him. You felt your lips stop at a hault, slowly moving still, but not making any progress to connect with his lips, you couldn’t even feel his body heat despite hovering over his mouth.

“I hate you.” You grumble, walking off, you then feel a hard smack to your ass. When you turn, you are greeted with his smug smirk and a goodbye wave.

The white cocky bastard went his entire day off to push your buttons.

Finally taking a nap, you throw off your clothes to dive in your cozy warm bed in only Gojo’s white button down. He was gone for the evening to deal with an emergency and you began to replay today in your head.

He spent half the day in your apartment wearing his infamous baggy pants and topless, hair down, and his cheeky little smile. You of course tried your damn hardest to look the opposite way when he was around, but he could read you like a book, reaching behind you to rub his soft dick against your ass, but when you tried to push back he activated his power again almost making your lose balance.

Suddenly the dickhead started to do push ups in the middle of your room, and might I add he wore NO UNDERWEAR.

His grunts and groans were borderline pornographic as you were trying to study on your couch. You noticed the longer he did it the sweatier and flushed he became which was not only cute, but extremely attractive to you.

Gojo didn’t stop at that either he even joined you in the shower, which was challenging for him though he wouldnt admit it, but fun nonetheless the less….for him of course.

He’d offer to scrub your back, his bend down a little to breathe on your neck, his soft fingers “dropping” the towel on accident , leaving his soapy hands that had a mind of their own to rub under the mounds of your breast.

“Y’alright?” You could hear his voice holding back a chuckle, rolling your eyes you ignore him, but that didn’t stop him from using his infinity to twirl his fingers against your nipples, though it wasn’t direct contact, it was enough to drive a shiver up your spine and hold back a moan, “Why don’t you just apologize for being mean? I can literally smell your puss—-“

“Alright.” You manage to wiggle out of his non existent hold to get out of the shower, once again getting another swat to the ass.

Your pride didn’t let you apologize, but it definitely was a two edged sword, because all you could think about was how if you would have just said a simple “Youre not clingy” Satoru would have easily turned off his shield from you and took you right there. Even though you couldn’t feel it you knew he was hard.

And he was, because he not only teased you, but ended up riling his self up.

He hates to admit it, but he did. Your scent from earlier still lingered in his nose. The sight of your wet tits and ass plagued his mind, even that oh so not quiet moan of his name when he was on your neck had him antsy to get home.

Rushing out of that stupid meeting he contemplates if he should apologize with his mouth or keep teasing you. He hated edging himself, but seeing you beg for it was even better.

Just like now; laying in your bed, legs spread and your little fingers twirling your cunt,

“‘Toru~”

Oh you’re so fucking cute.

Gojo could be so mean right now and make himself known and watch you struggle, but even though he’s the strongest.

He’s still a man.

A man that if he keeps seeing you buck up your hips one more time to reach that sweet spot you know he always could he’d go insane.

aaaaand you did.

“‘TORU—“

“Okay, even if I am clingy.” He mumbles funbling his clothes off his body to accompany you in between your thighs, “You’re fucking needy. Agreed?”

You suck your teeth, wanting to retort back, but in a flash you felt his fingers finally make contact with your sensitive clit, “O-okay, I agree…just…don’t do that again I ….I didn’t get ….”

“Any kisses from me?…I know baby i know” He rubs tighter circles and kisses your cheek, “…and I’m sorry.”

satoru mutters it one time, almost too quietly to hear — but it draws the attention of nearby women in the store who perk up and stare at him pointedly; either with wide eyes or flushed cheeks.

his tone isn’t cocky per say — more thoughtful; like he isn’t just shopping but taking great care in a meaningful way. a trait that a woman would find attractive in a man because it shows he cares enough to be aware of his strength in bed.

“lucky.”

“that’s so hot. i’m jealous.”

satoru’s appearance typically creates a sort of spectacle in the store whenever he’s in it. because there is a tenderness in his eyes, in the way he picks each piece — as if he is handling the very person it’s meant for — standing there deep in thought.

this time however, he pauses by a partly sheer blue set on a velvet hanger, frowning at the tag before calling out — casually — to one of the nearby staff.

“hey,” — he lifts the piece slightly — “do you know what this fabric blend is like on skin? i mean, like actually?”

the young woman he gestures to blinks, startled that he’s even asking — then hurries over, a little thrown by the question but charmed nonetheless.

“um— yeah. i think it’s a nylon and spandex blend? it’s really soft and most customers say it’s breathable.”

satoru squints, giving her a long look before he clicks his tongue in distaste. the worker flinches just a bit.

“eh, my wife hates anything that feels plasticky. it sticks when she sleeps in it — especially around the back clasp. and these straps?” satoru tugs one with two fingers and lets it snap back into place on the mannequin. “they’ll dig into her skin. she’ll be adjusting them all night!”

the worker raises both brows — surprised and also impressed that he doesn’t have a job here already. a smile curls onto her lips.

he dismisses the piece and moves on. “anyway, she’ll only wear it for like five minutes — tops. but those five minutes better be comfortable.”

the ease in which he says it sends a visible ripple through the women in earshot — a few flustered giggles and a couple dreamy sighs. meanwhile, a guy on the other side of the boutique glares at him, whispering something bitter to his girlfriend who’s now ignoring him.

“well, sir, you’re very considerate.”

“that’s how i keep her. she loves when i am.”

and once his hands reach and find what he’s looking for — something different and softer with better support, the cashiers never ask questions when they ring up his choice because the situation is quite clear.

a man who knows her size without checking. who replaces what he (likely) ruins because he enjoys it — loves to, even.

for satoru, each tear and stain in the fabric is a memory of a passionate night. and little errands like this — it is simply his way of saying thank you for letting him unwrap you like a gift.

and after a successful purchase, when he leaves with the discreet bag in hand, the staff watches on with smiles behind the counter — the look of a man in love being so contagious — already wondering when he’ll return (which will probably be soon if he’s that down bad.)

one of the workers sigh — as if reminiscing on the greatest love story of all time.

“whoever she is, she’s probably smiling before she even opens the box.”

and she will. because gojo satoru only picks the very best for his wife.

Satoru goes to his office quietly, and you go to your room, diving into a book, into a world where things were lovely again, trying not to think of how he won’t come to bed tonight. How his clothes weren’t even in here any longer, fuck he used one of the bathrooms downstairs to shower.

You don’t go to him, he doesn’t come to you.

Tears fall even as you feel sleep tugging at you, aching to just go see him, but too terrified to actually get up out of bed, to ask him. And he sits down there alone, wallowing in the fact that he’s fucking up, that he’s not there for you – because he’s so scared, him Satoru Gojo, who used to not be scared of anything, is scared. Is he losing you forever?

*****

The two of you don’t even sleep in the same room, that glittering rock on your finger a reminder of a happier time, a time when he knew he was good for you, that he would provide and take care of you. A time where he saw a future with you, with the little boy on the way.

He loves you the same as he did then, if not more, loves you so deeply it hurts him at times, yet he doesn’t come to your bed, he doesn’t hold you anymore, he falls asleep in his office chair, or on the couch. He’s not unfaithful, he’s home with you, but it hurts too fucking much to lay next to you and not know what to do, not know if he can touch you, not know what will upset you.

You didn’t ask him to come to bed, either, not until about a week ago, he’d catch sight of you finally walking by his office, looking so small in one of his big shirts. He eyed your body hungrily, fuck he misses it so badly, misses making love to you and staring into your eyes, so in love with him even now that you’re broken.

“Satoru,” your voice breaks a little in the middle, your hand on the doorway. “It’s been a long time since you… um… held me?”

It’s quiet that night, the pain ripping through your chest, tears stinging, you haven’t gone near him any more than he has you. A fight would be a million times better than whatever the fuck this is. You see his drink on the desk next to his anti anxiety meds, his cocktail to pass out at night, it’s a tempting combo, yours is a glass of wine and a melatonin.

You both have your vices, your coping mechanisms, it hurts you both all the same to be this way – to have this distance between you, that’s ever expanding and growing. You just stand there as he leans back, bringing a crystal glass up to plump lips that used to kiss every inch of your body with devotion, that now leave a small press on your forehead at best.

You miss him.

“I know I haven’t been…”

Blue eyes flick up to yours, just a little red around the irises. “Say it, what you want to. Just say it.”

You look down, trembling, half of who you were, Satoru knows you’re fucking in there somewhere, but he’s too afraid to push, to hurt you more.

“You used to talk to me freely, you still can,” he takes another sip, huge hands wrapping the glass and making it seem so tiny. “Go ahead.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip. “Could you come to bed tonight?”

“Come to bed?” You nod, shyly then. “So we can look in opposite directions, not hold each other? Not kiss?”

“Satoru…” You feel yourself getting so frustrated now, eyes narrowing.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart, me to lay next to you like we’re in our fucking coffins?”

“You know what, you’re being cruel,” he scoffs, shaking his head now, throwing back his drink. “It’s been months.”

“You wanted it like this, you told me to leave you alone.”

You hate that he’s right, there was a time you wanted to wallow, and you shoved him away, and now you see the damage you caused too written plainly on his pretty, perfect face. You take a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as if to try to gain some courage, to steel yourself and try to express what you feel.

It’s always been hard for you, but Gojo used to just know you, without a word, but now he can’t read you anymore, can hardly feel you anymore.

“I don’t want that anymore,” he sighs now, leaning back a bit. “I know I hurt you when I pushed you away, but I had no other option, I didn’t want to make you suffer more by watching me.”

“I suffered being alone,” his voice breaks, and so does your heart, racing in your chest now, so much you feel lightheaded, you feel sick. “I know you hurt, and you wouldn’t let me even hold you, and I needed that.”

“Satoru I…” You blink tears, hot and heavy, realizing how he’s changed, stubble where he never had any before, his own brand of eye bags, a line between his brows that wasn’t there.

How have you two changed so much?

He says your name but you run off, acting like you don’t hear, leaving him alone in that office, as you lay in that bed, not able to sleep. At a certain point, the door opened, and you pretended, so afraid to acknowledge him, to accept the hurt and suffering rampant in both of your hearts. Afraid your relationship is ending, that you’ll lose him too.

He curses softly when he sees dried tears on your cheeks, leaning down and brushing his lips across one, resting his head on yours. You’re so delicate to him in this state, like a porcelain doll that can break at any given moment. He pulls back and clears his throat, the tears forming again.

Satoru never cried until that day.

“I fucking love you,” he whispers, you open your eyes then, adjusting in the dark, swirling with emotion. He gasps, realizing you’re up, sitting back a bit. “Pretending to be asleep?”

“I love you.” You whisper instead of answering, a hand holding his wrist and tugging it. “I love you still.”

“And I love you still,” he kisses you gently, lips humming, before he feels himself already throbbing from just that, so pathetic. He doesn’t know if or when you’ll want something physical and doesn’t want to scare you, so he backs off. “I can’t just kiss you, I wish I could.”

The intention is very clear, you get flustered, remembering how it felt when he touched you, making you long for it. “You get excited from kissing me still?”

Satoru’s eyes narrow. “What kind of question is that?”

“Sometimes I think you don’t want me now that I… now that I couldn’t…” You trail off, sensing him tensing against you.

“I’d never be like that! It’s like you don’t know me!?” You’re a mess now, leaning up on your elbows as he stands. “I wouldn’t care if you couldn’t give me any kids, we’d fucking adopt, or take in a bunch of animals, whatever we needed or wanted. I’d give you anything, and you think I don’t want you?”

“I think I failed you.”

Fuck.

Satoru’s jaw tenses. “I think I failed you.”

You look down, sniffling now, a hand on your stomach. “I want to give you a son, it’s why you asked me to marry you, and now I’ve failed twice-”

“I asked you because I’m in love with you! It was not just the baby!”

“No?” He turns, and you shout his name, sitting up in the bed, you watch the moonlight cast a glow on his back, the strong muscles there. “Come back, please.”

“It’s like you forgot who I am,” he says, by the door now, a tall and buff man who’s just a little smaller in that moment. “Yeah, I rushed it because of the baby, but I was always going to ask you to marry me, since the day I met you.”

He leaves then, the pain too much for him, leaning his body against the door, tears falling, as you curl up into your little ball, the huge bed empty like it always is. You don’t stop crying, and he hears you, fuck he wants to reach out – to touch you, hold you in his arms, but he can’t move from this spot, as if firmly affixed in this position, cursing himself as your tears die down.

You think he only wanted to marry you for the baby, you couldn’t be more wrong, but your insecurities are eating you up.

You just keep pushing him away when you need him the most.

*****

“How is dinner looking?” You ask, you always ask, smiling as you hand him his plate and sit across from him.

“Looks great.”

Same answer.

Another day, where Satoru would rather drink than eat anything, another day you both fucking pretend, at least last week you almost fought that night, at least the two of you shared something other than utter fucking silence. You look more fragile every passing day, like you’re losing more of that light, the beauty that makes you who you are, was it all because of him?

The thoughts eat him alive while the quiet drives him fucking insane, just looking at you, hoping you’ll say something, anything. Yet you sit there and pretend with a smile on your face, plastered on and sweet, when he knows it’s bullshit. He knows you’re hurt, you’re mad, you’re upset, but you show nothing but this fake smile to him.

Him.

The man who knew you, who loved you.

“What are we doing?” He asks suddenly, your breath catches.

“What?”

“This, the fuck are we doing again? Acting like we actually are a couple, a normal couple, when I can’t even talk to you.”

“You can!”

“When? When will you actually open up and not shut down?” You glare now, hand gripping your fork, jaw clenched.

“I’m trying to act normal, Satoru.”

“Fuck normal, I want real, I want you!” He throws down his handkerchief, the one you folded into some origami shape. “All perfect, huh? Fuck that suzy homemaker whatever, fuck this, I want the girl I met.”

“Well she’s changed forever!” Your words are broken and shaky, he halts, standing there across from this fucking table like it’s a barrier. “I’m not the girl you fell in love with now.”

“That’s not true, you are still her, you just won’t let yourself admit that you’re devastated, so am I. Fuck so am I.”

You break down into tears, hands over your face, and Satoru curses, shaking his head, hating your pain. “I don’t want to bring you down.”

“This brings us down, this bullshit act,” he comes close to you then, tilting your chin up to look at him, tears slip and fall. “I want the real you, the one you buried deep inside.”

“I don’t know if she’s in there anymore,” you admit softly, he cups your face and sighs, kissing your lips gently. “Mnh.”

His heart races in his chest, breath caught in that moment, god hearing your little whimper makes him remember so much about you, about how you react when he kisses every inch. Torn between wanting to kiss you, to get on his knees and worship you, and wanting to just cry over the loss of this relationship, he pauses, pulling back just a bit.

“Don’t make noises like that, god it’s so hard not to touch you,” he whispers, even closer. You look up then, blinking back tears. “I am scared that if I touch you… that you will just break.”

You’re aching for him, in your core, your body needs him as much as your heart does, but you know what he means then. You are so delicate he is afraid one wrong move will hurt you, one wrong phrase will make you cry all over again, he’s scared to even be himself, and you’re a part of that.

That makes you hurt worse.

“You think I’m so easy to break?” Your insinuation is clear in your shaky little words, Satoru steps closer, until he presses you against the table, thigh between yours.

“Sweetheart, have you forgotten how I fuck already?” His whisper makes you crave him, your nails pressing into his shoulders, thighs trembling on either side of his hard one.

“Do you still want to fuck me?” Your question has him pressing further against you, cupping your face.

“Stop asking it, you know I do.”

“I don’t know that!” Your lip trembles, he’s so furious then, shaking damn near in anger that you don’t know how beautiful you are to him.

“All I do is show it, all I ever have done is show you how much I need you, how much I want you. Question is, do you even want me?”

It’s your turn to scowl up at him. “Of course I do!”

“And when have you shown it?” You step away, breathless now, as his words sink in and deliver their blow.

You say nothing.

“Gonna shut down again, yeah?”

You’re quiet, he scoffs and walks to the kitchen, snatching up a bottle of whiskey. “Satoru, please, I will always want you. God how couldn’t I?”

“You don’t show it, maybe I fucking need reassurance too,” you walk over to him, but he’s already heading to the office. “Doubting me constantly, why the fuck are you still even with me?”

“Because I love you!”

Satoru wants to believe you, he wants to throw this bottle and just hold you, but instead he shuts the office door. You throw your napkin on the floor, perhaps the only mess in your whole house, all you even do is clean. You’re trembling when you grab the bottle of wine, not even bothering with a glass, just downing it.

The two of you drink alone.

The two of you don’t share a single word the next day, not even a fake fucking good morning, not a ‘have a good day’. None of your bullshit, just ignoring each other like neither of you are really there, like none of this even exists, just going through the motions. Roommates, rather than best friends, than lovers, all hurting alone, and sleeping alone.

What is this existence with each other? Were you both just so tired of the fucking pretense?

*****

Work was shit today, you can’t get the words out of your head, that he didn’t even think you wanted him, that he doesn’t recognize you. As you smile at everyone while at work, all cheerful on the exterior, when inside you’re dying, when internally your heart is shattering, thinking of the fact that Satoru’s hurting, and you’re doing nothing about it, just as you’re hurting.

How can it keep going like this?

You remember his kiss, touching your lips, your eyelashes fluttering with a sigh. You need to feel him next to you, on you, against you – but how? How to make that step, when the other night he shot it down? When he’s so full of anger, but you’re so very numb?

Satoru sits at his office, legs crossed on his desk, staring at a pretty picture of you on his phone. You’re so beautiful, so sweet and soft in every way, now you’re like a little crystal figure, that warmth isn’t there, but the beauty is. Tangible in the way he sees it, but terrified he’ll break it, break you.

Satoru at first didn’t even think of sex, but it was such a huge part of his love language, physical touch, yet he never wanted to pressure you, to do this before you were both ready. Yet to think of never having you again? When just a brush of your lips and a sigh were enough to make him cum?

To think of never pleasuring you again?

He’d go without it all if he could even hold you, but the days are blending, they’re exactly the same and nothing changes. What can make it better, what can he do to make it heal, or just to feel you again?

The day goes by as normal, he’s busy as fuck, he’s thrown into running his company, where he has less time to think of the cold, sad remnants of a home he’ll return to. No fall scented wax cubes or little decorations could ever make that house feel homey after not being near you for so fucking long.

On the outside, he seems all right, on the inside, a storm rages, with need, grief, anger and desire.

He’s dying inside.

*****

Dinner the next night is different, there’s a tension in the air that’s damn near fucking indescribable, you can’t even pinpoint it. You’re not throwing on your fake smile, you don’t ask him how dinner is, you didn’t even make his plate for once, just left the dinner on the stove.

He liked that, actually.

He likes you being you and not whatever perfect homemaker bullshit you’ve been pulling, as if overcompensating for losing the baby, for something out of your control.

You’re so scared to lose him you actively push him away.

“So this is what we do?” Satoru asks across the table, you tense then, biting your lip and looking down.

“You've been drinking, Toru?”

“Have I been drinking,” he laughs then, without humor, shaking his head. “Yeah, I had a drink.”

“You get like this when-”

“Like what!? Upset, have feelings, talk!? You never even talk to me!” He’s slammed his hands on the table, you tremble and your eyes fill with tears, making him curse softly. “I’m sorry, fuck.”

You get up from the dinner table, plate untouched, the one you keep making perfectly every day not to touch. He grips your wrist, pausing you, turning you toward him now, but you don’t meet his, how can you when you feel you’ve failed him? When you haven’t given him what he needs, what you need?

“Look at me,” he murmurs softly, tilting your chin. “Now.”

Your eyes hit his, the brilliant blue that swirls, the man you love so much you can’t take it, the one you’re hiding from when that’s what you don’t need, but you don’t want to drag him down with your pain. Satoru – once bright and happy – is miserable right now, and you don’t want to make it worse.

“Just talk to me,” he rests his forehead on yours. “Sweetheart, I know I’ve been drinking, I know I’ve been hiding in my fucking office, but it doesn’t mean there’s not one day I don’t love you.”

“Satoru…” You break down now, letting him cup your face. “I know I’m hiding too, from you, from it.”

“Don’t hide tonight,” he kisses you now, mouth moving over yours hot and heavy, lifting you up and sitting you on that table, you whine out. “God, I haven’t had you in months, I’m fucking dying.”

“Me too,” he shoves up your dress, plates clattering to the floor. “Toru…”

“Fuck them, fuck being perfect, just spread your goddamn legs,” you do just that, and he’s drunk off you already, dizzy with the alcohol warming his system and your body so pliant for him. “That’s it, my good girl.”

It’s been so long since he said that.

Your body reacts eagerly, soaking wet when he slips your panties to the side, tongue slipping into your mouth hot and heavy, the whiskey dancing across your own taste buds. It feels like coming home when he runs his thumb up and down your slit, groaning at how wet you are after so long, swirling in circles while it’s twitching against the pad of it.

“Still this wet for me?” His desperation is clear, you swallow down the guilt of not coming near him for so long.

“Satoru, I always want you, I was just…”

“No more.”

He cuts you off with two fingers shoved deep, his other hand yanking your dress down and letting your tit spill out, groaning. He sucks on your nipple, mouth wrapping desperately, your hands entangle in his hair, gasping. He’s devouring you, your nipple pressing up for more, back arching as your eyes flutter shut.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that makes your legs tremble. “Look at me when I’m filling you up.”

You force your eyes open that are already lidded from pleasure, meeting his intense gaze. His pupils are blown wide, the blue almost swallowed by black to where it’s like his eyes fucking are black they’re so dark. The raw need in them steals your breath, how could you be so blind to how much he wants you, needs you?

He’s not hidden under those layers while he’s moving his fingers and watching your head fall back, his lips parted with his lust, his snowy lashes trembling when he exhales. “That feel good?”

“F-feels perfect,” you answer instead, and he loses it, slamming his lips on yours, hot and messy. “Ngh!”

“That’s it, clench my fingers baby, f-fuck… you’re soaking them,” he’s fingering you in wonder at it, as everything starts to come back to you both, the touches, the kisses, the spots only he knows, working you so fucking good. “So wet, you miss my touch?”

“You know I have,” your tears are of pleasure but also of how much you missed this, how loved and beautiful he makes you even fucking you with his fingers. “Ah!”

“That’s it,” he’s scissoring them in and out of your tight entrance, your fingers hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt, yanking on his tie as you meet his lips, your own kisses messy, tongue meeting his. “There she is, my slutty girl, huh?”

“M’here,” you’re arching for more, hearing the lewd squelching. “Miss your touch, miss your kisses.”

“I miss you.”

He pulls back, brushing his thumbs across your cheeks and taking a breath, even as his fingers press up. “I’m here, I’m right here.”

He kisses you again, drinking your moans and claiming you with every swipe of his tongue, now his thumb is finding your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles on the twitchy little bud again. The pressure builds fast, too fast after months without his touch, you haven’t been touched since before that night you found out it happened, and you’re so touch starved and aching.

“Needy girl, want me to have you cum on my fingers?” His words make you blush, it’s been so long since he’s spoken to you that way.

“Yes.”

Fuck, a firm answer, not some elusive little nod and a bite of your lips, no your hands are slipping across his shoulders, nails pressing in and making him hiss. Your hips buck against his hand, a soft whine elicited from your lips.

“Hmm, say please.”

There’s a smirk, for the first time in so long, the cocky and conceited Satoru showing up again. You bite your lower lip, so close, thighs trembling around his big hand. “Please.”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” he arches them up, pressing you down on that table, mouth making love you yours while he rolls his thumb just the way you like. “Cum for me.”

You’re falling apart like on command, head slamming back against the table, he quickly slips his hand underneath it to catch it, arching two fingertips on that spongy spot one more time, and watching you cum for him. You’re gushing down his fingers, whining out and pulsing around them, your pretty eyes rolled into your skull, and Satoru almost cums against his boxers from just that.

“You’re so beautiful,” you choke up a bit then, blinking tears from the release. He pulls his fingers free, slick and glistening, and you whine at the loss. But he’s already fumbling with his belt, the buckle clinking loud in the quiet room - the room that was too fucking quiet. “I need you baby, are you ready, or do you want to wait?”

“I’m so past ready, Satoru,” you help him tug it out, stroking it when his pretty cock springs free, thick and hard and throbbing, flushed dark rose at the tip that’s leaking so much pearly white pre. “Please, in me.”

“Fuck,” you don’t have to tell him twice, it was going to take everything to hold back. He lines himself up, the head pressing against your entrance, hot and insistent against a slippery mess you’ve been made into. “Cunt is so ready, isn’t she? Can you still take me?”

You cup his face then, thumb swiping his lower lip. “I want you to stretch me out,” Satoru whines out, you talking dirty after so fucking long, your lips against his ear. “Want you to fill me up.”

“God baby,” you hold your breath, bracing your hands on the table edge, spreading your thighs wider when he pushes in, one long, slow stroke that steals the air from your lungs. It burns a little, stretching you after so long, but it’s the good kind of burn, the fucking delicious one that has you spasming. “So tight, oh my… mnh…”

He rests his head for a moment, he can’t just bust in two seconds the first time he fucks his fiance in months, but you’re so tight it’s killing him. He pulls out, leaning back to spit right on your clit, rubbing it and looking up at you. “Mnh!”

“Loosen just a bit, please,” you nod quickly, relaxing your hips, and soon you take more and more, inches and inches. “That’s it, good girl.”

Good girl.

You’re almost cumming again, so sensitive when he fills you completely, bottoming out with a broken moan, against your ear, cock so deep you almost can’t take him, whispering his name over and over as he just pauses. He gives you a moment to adjust, hands on your hips now, looking down at you.

He just stays buried deep, forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged and tasting like that whiskey and the sweetness of him. He’s trying to hold back, to not hurt you, despite wanting to fuck you so deep, so hard, restraining himself.

“You feel so good wrapping around me, sweetheart.”

“You f-feel s’good, Toru,” he exhales at the nickname, his hands slide under your ass, lifting you slightly, adjusting the angle and making you scream out as he presses on your cervix. “Ngh so deep!”

“Ready?” He asks softly, you nod eagerly - then he pulls back, almost all the way out aside from his leaky tip, leaving you achingly empty for a heartbeat before driving back in, hard.

You gasp out at the first brutal stroke, but your answer as he studies you is arching your hips for more, nails pressing into his biceps over a dress shirt half on.

“Oh my g-god… yes…”

That little gasp ends him, he starts fucking into you mean, cock bullying your gummy walls, slamming your back into that table, you're too full, he's in your stomach, he's everywhere. 

Satoru is filling every one of your senses, his loud filthy smacks of skin mixing with your cries, his moans, the slurping sound of your cunt drinking him. His taste swirling on your tongue, his scent filling your nostrils. 

Satoru’s muscles flex, a vein pressing out of his neck, those black fucking eyes with a ring of blue looking down at you, lost, your lashes flutter, fingers clenching those strong biceps, trying to keep him in sight.

“Look at me, right at me,”  he whispers so commanding. “Let go for me, don’t hold anything back.”

“Nothing back,” you agree softly, and then he slams his lips right with his hips, a gasp drank by his mouth, as he starts fucking you faster, harder, stretching you out on him with his thick, veiny cock.

“All of you, give me all of you,” your jerky nod earns his whimper, he gets impossibly thicker as he brings you higher, that soft white hair tickling your clit and grinding when he bottoms out.

It’s not gentle any longer, your kisses or how he’s thrusting his length so hard into you over and over – and you’re not gentle, biting his lip, your nails scratching him, thighs clenching his hips. Filthy strings of words from his lips echoing as you’re closer and closer, whining out his name, head falling back for possessive kisses.

No, it’s raw, it’s necessary, a physical tearing down of every wall you both built up from each other for too long with every kiss, every movement, every slap of skin, falling into each other, so deeply nothing else exists.

His heavy balls smacking your ass, wanting to fill you. He groans as you’re fluttering, he can feel you’re ready to cum for him again.

He grips your hair and pulls, half out of your pretty bun that's now spread across your shoulders, tugging it and looking down at you, his snowy hair falling over his brow. “Gonna squirt for daddy, huh?” 

God you haven’t heard that in so long, your body reacts to it, to his dominance, how he looks hovering over you, cock slamming. “Y-yes, daddy, for you.”

Satoru Gojo’s long fingers dig into your hips, bruises you’ll keep for days, ones you’ve been secretly craving, holding you steady as he fucks you like he’s trying to fill you up so full you won’t be able to walk. Fucking every frustration and every bit he’s missed you as you take it, clinging to him tighter, brows drawing together now as you feel your climax about to hit.

“That’s it, make me a fuckin’ mess, be slutty for me,” he huffs, sinking his teeth into your neck, and that’s when he feels you grip him so tight you milk him. “There you go, let go.”

You cum so hard you see stars this time, hoarse little cries of his name, eyes rolled back and seeing stars. It’s so much, too much, that pressure between your thighs, in your tummy, deep inside your cunt. Your inner walls clamp down on him, pulsing as your orgasm makes you soak him, dripping down heavy balls and the pretty, once pristine kitchen table.

“Milkin’ me for all this cum,” he whispers hoarsely, his rhythm faltering with just how good you feel. “Do you want it inside you?”

His question is heavy, it says so much, you’re so fucked out you can hardly take a breath, arms wrapping his neck. “I want you to fill me with all of your cum.”

Satoru’s done for.

His thrusts become erratic, desperate. “Fuck, yes, take it,” he groans out, his voice rough, breaking. “Take all of my cum so deep, yeah baby?”

“Please!” He buries himself to the hilt one last time, cunt gripping like a vise as he presses into your cervix, and you start feeling his hot streams of cum filling you, his body trembling against yours while he kisses you, pumping so much inside it’s already spilling.

“Oh my f-fuck,” he groans out, moving slower, pushing more and more of that cum inside your greedy little hole. “Wanna fucking put so many babies inside you.”

“Oh, Satoru…” you’re needing it, to hear it, even though he was so scared to say it. Your eyes meet his as he brushes back damp strands of your hair. “I want all of it too.”

The silence that follows after he collapses over you, breathless, is louder than any words. His big arms wrapping you, his lips planting kisses up your neck as your lips dance across his shoulder sweetly, both tasting the sheen of sweat dripping. You stroke his back, he strokes your cheek, just looking at each other.

“No more hiding,” he whispers, and you swallow, nodding. “And I won’t hide from you anymore.”

“Neither will I,” he pulls out with a hiss, you look down at his cock and flush furiously. “You came so much.”

“You came more.”

“Hmm,” you touch a bit of the sticky cum pouring from his tip, lapping it up, his lips part at the sexy little action. “Debatable.”

Satoru lifts you and you giggle, the sound melting him as he carries you up the stairs, like it’s nothing with his big ass arms, you feel so small compared to him, how he lifts you up so damn high, pressing you on the wall in the hallway just to kiss you. He sets you down to stand in the room he hasn’t slept it, slipping your dress and studying your body.

You hesitate then, you’d gotten stretch marks from the pregnancy, and your breasts got a little bigger, even though it wasn’t full term, your body changed – and he hasn’t seen it. He exhales, you go to cover up and he grips your wrists, pinning them over your head with just one hand, his fingers trailing down your body ever so slowly, across the couple lines left.

“You’re so beautiful,” he leans low now, lips pressing yours. “I can’t wait to fill you so full again. And again. And again.”

*****

You wake up in Satoru’s arms, naked and with his thigh between yours, sunlight filtering in through the blinds. The gentle breeze of the fan leaves goosebumps on your skin, slightly covered by a soft blanket.

It feels perfect in his embrace, it feels like home.

You turn to see him awake, smiling down at you, making you melt, tears filling your eyes. He frowns then in concern, as you break down.

Did he fuck up?

Did he hurt you!?

“Sweetheart,” he lets you turn and holds you close, as you cling to him, your arms wrapping his narrow waist. “What is it? Fuck are you okay?”

“I’m so happy,” you sniffle now, he swipes your tears off your cheek carefully, sniffling as your lips tremble. “I thought last night was a dream.”

He sees then, how badly he’s hurt you.

“It’s real, I’m real,” he murmurs, kissing you again, and again, tugging you so close and pressing you on his body. “I’ll never not sleep by your side in bed again, long as I live, okay?”

You nod, filled with tears, kissing him desperately, so wet when he flips you on your back it’s embarrassing. He’s stroking against you, your nails are slipping down his back, when he slides his cock into your sore little cunt again. You’re gasping out, head falling against the pillows, while he moves.

“Sore, huh? Tiny cunt hurts?” He taunts, a mix of sweet and sadistic, just the Satoru you craved, to live with, to be under.

“You’re too big,” he moans at that, thickening even more. “Want more.”

“More cum?” You nod, and he chuckles then, slamming his cock deep again. “Then I’ll give it all to you, greedy girl.”

Satoru’s busting deep in your hole again after you cum for him, hissing as he fingers that cum back deep in your hole. You’re whining out at how bad it hurts in the morning, with the sun glowing across both of your skin, the stupid alarm going off. You barely manage to sit up, but he shuts it off and throws it.

“Satoru!”

“I’m spending the day with my fiance, neither of us is working,” he sucks the mix of his cum and yours off his fingers, grinning as you watch. “Open for me.”

You do just that, as he spits his cum inside your wide open mouth, groaning at the sight of it slipping out of the corner, swiping it gently. 

“Swallow.”

You do as he orders, how you love to be ordered by him, and soon he’s kissing it off you, making you a mess, pressing you into the soft satin sheets and pillows, fucking you until the two of you are ruined, desperate and weak and panting. You’re so sore and he’s shooting blanks at this point, your hole so full of cum, your tummy bloated with how much he’s stuffed you with.

You pass out snoring on him at about noon, and he just brushes your hair back, smiling against your hair.

He missed you.

*****

Six months later

“Hmm,” Satoru has your thighs spread, on your hands and knees on the bed, your tummy swollen with your baby inside you, cunt just leaking the milky white seed he filled you with. You tremble as his fingers brush you. “We don’t need to keep it all in anymore, you’re pregnant now.”

“Yeah, do you want me to push it out,” you taunt, smiling over your shoulder, so pretty and just glowing. “Or are you gonna clean me?”

“You know I love tasting us together,” he whispers softly, you two had just finally announced you’re expecting even though it’s been six months, you were both so nervous, tentative.

But everything looked amazing this time.

You had a celebration, you’ve both sort of took time off to just constantly be together, after so, so long of being apart, and Satoru may or may not have been fingering his pregnant wife under the table at dinner. He can’t help it, you smell even better, taste better, and your nipples were leaking milk that he was sucking on in the back of his limo.

How could he not fuck you more and more?

“Hmm, I’ll clean you up, filthy little girl,” he whispers, spreading your thighs and leaning down, tongue swiping up your slit and gathering it all. “Oh my fuck.”

He loves licking his cum out of you, tongue swirling inside your cunt to get every drop, slurping it up and groaning as he swallows it down his greedy throat - you’re sweet, he’s just a little salty, but together? Fuck it’s perfect, especially drooling out of your pretty cunt.

He spreads your folds wide, looking at the abused little hole, and your moans fill the room, fingers twisting in the sheets tightly as he eats you out like he’s starved, your swollen tummy is tensing with pleasure. Every time his tongue flicks your clit it has you arching, whining out, trembling, pouring more and more.

“You took so much this time,” he whispers. “I’m so proud of you.”

He shoves his entire tongue up inside your walls, already sticky and gummy and coated, hitting your spot. “Oh f-fuck,” you gasp, arching your back, “Satoru, oh my god.”

His tongue is giving you such slow, deliberate strokes, lapping up and gathering every trace of milky seed from your swollen folds. “So fucking good,” he rasps against your skin, breath hot and burning, teeth lines against your puffy cunt. “That’s it, lemme drink all of us up.”

You arch as much as you can in your pregnant state, while he tugs your hips to him, ass right against his face.

“Mmm,” he’s drinking all the juices pouring, before gently gripping you by your hips and turning you, laying you on your back. His lips are glistening from you both, you lean up and lick them, earning his moan. “Fuck you’re so pretty.”

“Oh, Toru,” your hands entangle in his hair as he kisses up your swollen belly, hands drifting across it. “You make me feel so pretty.”

“You are,” he is whispering against your skin, kissing even higher while his thumbs press against your breasts, and his lips trail higher, gripping a breast that leaks milk.

“Oh!” You get a little flustered, you haven’t gotten that far before, and now it all seems even more real. You feel a flutter and a kick when you tense, and his tongue swirls your nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth, moaning. “Toru, that’s milk! Crazy man…”

“It tastes so sweet,” his hand grips your tit and squishes it with one hand, the other resting on the side of you, sucking sweet milk into his mouth. “Oh fuck, I’m addicted.”

“You cannot even be!” You’d giggle but he’s making you feel so good, so sensitive you’re whimpering. “Mnh, they hurt!”

“I’ll be easier,” he smirks, and milk slips across his lips, grinning. “Maybe.”

You laugh breathlessly, before sucking in a breath, he’s sucking on your other nipple now. “You’re insatiable, freaky man.”

“You’re the freak here,” his fingers trace the curve of your bump while his tongue swirls a puffy nipple. 

“Oh!” It feels good then, you're wriggling underneath him, still sore from his cock but ready again.

“Can you blame me?” His voice drops low, rough with want. “You’re fucking gorgeous, yummy, perfect.”

Outside, rain starts tapping against the windows suddenly, not a sprinkle but a hard downpour, while he kisses around your nipples that are just leaking so much milk, swirling it with his thumb. Your heart is fluttering right along with his soft breaths in the dimly lit room, soft and rhythmic, the two of you kissing, the tastes mingling of all the sweetness he’s sucked off you.

Soon he’s got you in the bath, your tummy and breasts slipping up from the bubbles, massaging your tummy gently, lips kissing up your neck, your cheek, your temple. Your hand covers his, and he feels him kick - another boy, this time he’s very active, and he loves to flip.

“He’s saying hi,” he murmurs, laughing softly. You look over at him, the water dripping from his chin, a big grin on his handsome face. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Oh, me too. God I’m so excited!” He buries his face against your neck, tasting the water on your skin. “What are we gonna name him!?”

“I haven't even thought of the right one and I've read so many books.”

“Hmm,” his fingers slip up and down your arms gently, lovingly, you sigh and inhale the steam, letting it fill your senses. “Do you like Asahi?”

“I do, what's that mean! It sounds so pretty.” You lovingly touch your tummy.

“Ray of hope, it's what he is.”

“I love it,” you're crying again, hormones are getting you, but also you feel so loved. He holds you close and just lets you cry, just staying silent, being there for you. “Asahi.”

“Yeah?” He smiles and swipes at your tears, the rain is pouring on the rooftop, while you're in this steamy bubble bath, your tears falling like little drops of rain.

“Hope.”

“Mmhmm,” he kisses your forehead gently, stroking your belly. “Hope.”

After wrapping you in a towel, he carefully blow dries your hair, pampering you to no end, he always used to before, and after that few months of not, you relished in the feeling. You sigh and lean back as he carefully brushes your hair, smiling at you in the reflection of the mirror, lips plush and soft as he leans low.

“Look at you, glowing.”

“Fuck I love you.”

“Mmm,” he kisses you gently, cupping your chin. “I know.”

He’s got you in bed later on once you’re both all dried up, wrapped in a light blue fluffy robe, and he’s rubbing your feet while you’re sitting up against the pillows.

“Now I’ll get too used to this.”

“Well, go ahead,” he presses kisses up your calves, feeling how soft they are from the lotion he’d massaged into them. “You’re growing our baby in there, you need to be taken care of.”

“You’re so good to me,” you whisper, your eyes heavy with sleep, but you don’t want to sleep, you want to feel him, be with him. “Mmm, I feel so good.”

“You deserve it,” he whispers back, his fingers pressing into your arches, making you moan softly. “You’re carrying our baby, you’re doing all the hard work. Poor girl, you can’t even have wine.”

“Who needs wine with you,” you’re already slurring your words, sinking into the bed and relishing in it. “Drunk off you.”

“Are you now?” He chuckles, letting your foot drop.

“You don’t have to do all this, not that I’m complaining,” you murmur, your hand reaching for his, intertwining your fingers, tugging his knuckles in so that you can kiss the back of them. “All I need is you here with me.”

Satoru’s emotions get stuck in his throat then, hearing the need in your words, both of you were scared after what happened, so scared you’d lose the baby. Even now, the fear lies there, at every meeting and every doctor visit, you’re both a little apprehensive, clinging to each other for support.

Satoru leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that tastes of mint rather than whiskey these days, those mints he sucked on constantly when you met him. So familiar and warm, something you never ever want to go a day without, that taste that is just so uniquely him. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, as if he can read your mind.

He knows you.

He’s always known you, even in those moments that he felt he didn’t, even when the two of you fell into that desperation, the darkness that swallowed you all whole. Since then you’ve been connected, talking things out, expressing things. You were both in therapy over the loss of the previous miscarriages, and you all had good and bad days.

Today was a good day, a perfect day.

“I’ll never go anywhere,” his voice is a low little murmur that vibrates through your lips, tickling them with his breath, his hand delicately brushing your hair back as he smiles at you. “Ever.”

You smile back at him, a sleepy little cute one that grips him in the chest, your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb traces circles on your cheek. “Good.”

The rain outside that was downpouring has softened to a gentle patter, a soothing rhythm that makes you even sleepier, yet you fight it.

“You trying not to rest, why?”

“It’s too perfect,” you say now, looking up at him. “Every moment of this I need to savor it.”

“Like I savor your pretty pussy?”

You blush furiously, and he grins. “You love to make me blush!”

“I do, it’s cute,” he continues to caress you, fingertips sliding down your neck, your shoulder, with the rain in the background lulling you both into a comfortable silence. His touch is tender and sweet, as if he’s memorizing every curve, every swell of your body, and he is.

He wants to remember how you feel while you’re carrying his baby, the heaviness of your breasts, the roundness of your tummy and hips, how your cheeks are just a little rounder too. Everything about you he commits to memory with his careful touches, his sweet little kisses.

“You know,” he says after a while, his voice barely above a whisper, “I used to think I had everything. Wealthy, right, so much influence, and I had you, fuck how do you top that? But this?” His hand rests on your belly, where Asahi stirs beneath his palm, making you both grin. “This is everything to me.”

Your heart falters at that, you don’t know how to put into words how you feel, where Satoru was amazing at them, you at times faltered. “Toru… you’re everything to me, and now Asahi.”

He leans in again, this time kissing the corners of your mouth, then your cheeks, then the tip of your nose so precious, earning your sleepy giggle, your cute little yawn, your own hands slip up and down his bare shoulders, feeling the lines of his strong biceps, fingers pressing in ever so gently as you kiss on him.

His hand slides up your thigh, beneath the robe, his touch teasing, you whine out and shift.. “Still sore from my cock baby?”

“You’re diabolical…” He grins now.

“Are you?”

“A little,” you admit, shifting slightly again, as if to shove his fingers towards your slick cunt, even as you act all innocent. “But I love feeling you inside me.”

“Greedy girl,” his fingers trail higher, skimming the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Let me take care of you again, then. I’ll give you anything.”

*****

Three months later

What once was a dusty, empty nursery is filled with love, decorated with everything before and more. Filled with you in the rocking chair, and holding your beautiful little boy. Satoru had run and grabbed you something to drink so that you can relax while you feed your little boy. You smile up at him, so heartbreakingly pretty with his son in your arms like that.

In that moment he falters by the doorway, just studying you both, feet locked into place, it’s hard for him to put anything into words of how he feels, to have been blessed by you both. It’s hard for him to fully grasp how lucky he is, he would seem so sappy if it all spilled, but he truly did not care how it came out.

“I’m so lucky…” he says then, and watches you brighten even more.

“You’re so sweet,” you say softly, he clears his throat a bit and heads to you, kneeling and angling a straw so you can sip. “You don’t have to do all that! I can hold it you know.”

“I want to make sure you rest some,” he murmurs softly, touching your face tenderly. “You had a rough time.”

“I know, but I’m on the good stuff, so I feel great.” He snorts a bit then, stirring your son awake, he opens his beautiful blue eyes - just like Satoru Gojo’s.

“You sure?”

“Very, I love holding him,” you snuggle and press a kiss on his snowy white head as he dozes off again, all milk drunk. “He’s so precious.”

“Just like you,” you giggle and then wince a bit. “See? You’re sore.”

“Well yeah, but I wanna be up,” he shakes his head.

“Stubborn girl, will you be like your mom I wonder? Or sweet like me?”

“You, sweet huh?” He grins deviously, you ruffle his hair, holding Asahi close to your chest. “You are sweet.”

“I’ll put him to bed, you need more rest,” Satoru stands then, taking him carefully, the baby is already tiny but looks even tinier in Satoru Gojo’s huge hands, his head so small right on his palm. “Hi buddy.”

He pecks a kiss on his head, and you melt in that moment, adjusting your top to cover up breasts still leaking a little milk, eyes glimmering as you look up at your son and your soon to be husband. They’re both so beautiful, the moonlight is gently pouring in, and illuminating their forms.

It makes everything worth it, every tear shed, every bit of soreness in your body, to see the happiness of Satoru’s lit up face, while he cooes at the baby, wrapping him and cradling him in his big arms, you’re so in love with Satoru in that moment – and you love your son so much – it physically hurts. Like your heart expanded in order to adore them both, and it barely fits in your chest.

You stand up and he frowns down at you. “Sit down, stop being so stubborn, hmm?”

“I just wanna hold you both,” you wrap an arm around Satoru and lean against him, looking down at your beautiful son. “I love you two so, so much.”

“And I love you both,” Satoru murmurs, kissing your head, and then his son’s, the spitting image of him truly. You think the only thing that he got of yours was maybe your nose. “You have mama’s nose.”

“I was just thinking that’s all he has of mine!”

“Yeah, weak genetics, psh,” you giggle again, holding your sore stomach. “Will you sit, you just got cut open a few days ago y’know.”

“Mmm, I may need more of the good stuff,” you mumble. “It’s been like eight hours I think.”

“They said six, see Mama’s stubborn,” he says to Asahi then, kissing his little head and holding him close to his chest, you see the baby’s lips curve up, melting you further, you’re literally just a fucking puddle now, for the two men in this room who you adore. “She doesn’t listen.”

“I do, sometimes,” Satoru rolls his baby blues, settling down Asahi now. “Let me swaddle him.”

“Mmhmm,” Satoru kisses across your shoulder blade, bare from the big sweater hanging off it, watching as you wrap him all up so tightly. He stands there and holds you from behind, a chin on your head, just keeping you there.

You lean back, your eyes shutting in relief at how good this feels, his hand presses on your tummy comfortingly, knowing it’s hurting to stand like this, just supporting you. You feel tears start to form in your eyes then, and look up at Satoru, they’re glimmering off your cheeks in the moonlight.

“What is it, are you hurting?” He panics then, Asahi moves just a bit, crying a loud little cry. “Hang on.”

Satoru goes and snatches up his binky, leaning over to pop it in his mouth, so he can suck on it and calm down – and that makes you break down more, how fucking in love and happy you are, after the pain you went through. How everything feels so blissful despite the physical pain and exhaustion, how you can’t believe you almost lost this.

Satoru immediately picks you up in his arms, cradling you. “Satoru, you can’t just carry me all over.”

“I sure can, and I will,” he gently shuts the door with one shove of a hip, you cling to his neck ever so tightly, tears sticky on his skin. “Let’s get you some meds and something to eat with them.”

“You do too much for me.”

Satoru pauses now, easing you down once you’re in the kitchen, frowning and cupping your face. He leans low now, lips a breath away. “You and him are my everything, I will do anything for you.”

“Oh, Toru, I can’t believe we almost…”

“Shh,” he kisses you now, your salty tears and slightly chapped lips from being dehydrated, holding you so close and rocking you against him. “We didn’t split apart, we are still here.”

“I am so scared that I almost lost you, I love you so much.” He kisses you again, exhaling, his arms wrapping you tight.

“I was scared too,” he swallows and sighs, his eyes so blue and glimmering. “We made it through all of it, and now look, we have him.”

“And I have you.” You hold his face, tiptoeing.

“And I have you, my cute little crybaby.”

“Hey!” He chuckles, trying to brighten your mood, he always does, and he always will, stay by your side and care for you. “I am a crybaby right now, but because I’m so very happy.”

“So am I, but I’d be happier if you rested,” he grabs your pain medicine, and a ginger ale. “Here, I’ll find you something to eat.”

“You spoil me.”

“Sure do, and I’ll spoil all of our kids, as much as I want.”

“You’ll make them country club brats?” You tease, swallowing the meds and wincing at the taste, Satoru hands you a little snack to nibble on.

“Maybe I will,” he tilts his head and grins at you. “What’s your little ass gonna do about it, huh?”

“Probably join you all,” you roll your eyes too, before nibbling and sighing. “Mmm, I was hungry.”

“See, I already knew.”

Soon he’s got you in his arms, he makes sure to sleep in bed with you every night, the baby monitor shows your little boy on the screen sleeping so soundly. It’s quiet, save for Satoru’s steady breathing, his arm wrapped under your breasts, his nearness and warmth lulling you ever so gently to slumber.

You turn and look at him, seeing his eyes still open – wide open – just staring down at you, his lips curve lazily, while you flush under his study. “What is it?”

“Thinking how proud I am of you.”

“Toru, I’ll cry again!”

“I am,” you’re already a mess, but he makes you more and more with every look, every motion, every movement. “I’m very proud.”

“I’m proud of us, we made him, god he’s so perfect.”

“He is,” Satoru cups your jaw, kissing you. “I think when you’re ready… he may need a sister too.”

“Satoru!”

“What?”

You smack at him playfully. “Are you already thinking of another?”

“Sure am,” his finger brushes your nipple over the big shirt of his you’re wearing. “Wanna keep these full.”

“You have to wait at least three weeks,” you taunt, turning and kissing him, your hand slipping down to grip his cock. His eyes flutter shut, moaning softly. “Look at me.”

“Using my lines?” He raises a white brow, but his look fails as you stroke him. “Fuck…”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you for once, hmm?”

Satoru kisses you as your hand finds him, stroking ever so gently. “Fuck I love you. I can’t wait to put more babies- ah!”

“Shh, just let go, cum for me.”

Satoru gasps at your little bold statement, the baby cries for a moment and you both pause, but he goes right back to sleep, making you laugh softly. “You’re even freakier now that you’re a milf, huh?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?”

Your kiss meets his lips as you stroke him once more, and his hand grips your breast, pulling back to rub some of the milk on his lips, moaning. “Yes we will.”

Once you’ve pleased him, he’s drunk off you, just studying you once more, snoring and exhausted. He looks at the monitor and grins over at his baby boy, wriggling just a bit.

This is everything and more than he could ever have imagined, he snuggles against you and falls right asleep for the little bit of time you all can before the baby wakes up, thinking just how lucky he is. 

My sweet girl I hope you love this <3 TYSM for trusting me to write this for you!!

commissions info here! (I'll be opening some more spots soon loves <3)

I think Gojo likes to use ASL to speak to Geto. They both learned together and when they want to gossip they just speak in sign language.

I think Gojo once tries being vegan for a day because Geto was for a few months and immediately quit after realizing he couldn’t have most of his favorite sweets

Gojo wants a girlfriend. He jokes, but he does want one. When he comes home (which is rarely) sometimes he wishes he had someone to come home to. He really wants one to annoy as well.

Gojo grew his hair out a few times, but he looked too girly so he cut it back short.

He cuts his own hair

His love language is touch, gift giving, acts of service and annoying ur soul

Gojo’s favorite movies are the Bad Boyz Series, Rush Hour, Bettlejujce, Ferries Buellrs Day Off, and almost every Disney movie

Gojo doesn’t believe in horoscopes, star signs, and stuff like that. He mocks people that do.

He remembers little stuff about you/people he loves but dont point it out he gets embarrassed.

He’s a small Tsundere to the girl he likes. He’s ruined a few chances with women because of this.

He goes to Geto for advice with talking to them but he uses stupid excuses like “Lets say HYPOTHETICALLY a guy we knew HYPOTHETICALLY liked this girl…”

He’s love legos.

His ideal date is at his place, you both cook together, play some dumb games, and watch a new show to binge all night. He takes it over a fancy date any day.

He doesn’t realize how rich he is. He KNOWS but spending money is nothing to him so if you were out telling him not to buy an expensive dress for you. He simply wont understand and get it for you anyways.

He’s more giving than he’d like to admit.

Gojo likes moments where it’s just you and him sitting in a room in silence doing yall own thing. He loves it even more when he can blurt out something random and you both just start chatting it up as if you both wasnt quiet for a whole 2 hours.

Gojo loves it when people are happy to see HIM. He loves to feel wanted

Gojo will never make you feel left out. Introverted or not he will make sure you’re comfortable wherever you both go