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#satoru <33
gojoed · 7 months
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"oh my god satoru you look so cute here!"
"wait wait wait, don't look at those!"
you were currently holding a picture of satoru in your hands. it's nothing you haven't done before, going to the corner store and flipping through recently printed pictures of you and your friends after waiting a week for them to develop.
but this time you weren't holding snapshots of suguru having permanent marker on his face while sleeping or ridiculous photos of satoru and shoko grabbing onto each others hair, fighting over who gets to get the last snack from their stash. this time you held a photo of satoru, except younger. exponentially younger. as in, you just got your hands on a photo of satoru the moment he was born. literally.
like every other newborn he had that faint pink shade on his soft skin, button nose, and little hands that had the chubbiest of fingers. you swore you fell in love all over again with him.
the grown up version of the baby however did not feel the same. he didn't think a visit to his family's prestigious estate would lead to you seeing the one photo he would rather die than having any one of his friends see. he'd rather have you take a photo of him falling flat on his face on a pile of garbage actually.
how you came across that photo of him, he has no idea. you both were currently residing in his old bedroom, laid down on the old tatami mats that still smelled new. all he remembers is you getting up to look for something within the old cabinets of his room before you exclaimed about your recent discovery.
"oh there's more, lemme see."
"nononononono, no! you've already seen enough!"
satoru tried desperately to snatch the small box of photos that was now on the floor. seriously who put this here?? — maybe his mother heard of how he was bringing you along for the weekend and planted a little surprise for you to find. he was unsuccessful, again, as you seemed to be faster than the strongest now since the box was now sitting on your lap — the stack of photos now in your hands as you flipped through them one by one.
"you used to wear such cute things too! look at that, it's a little onesie with a duck pattern!"
satoru was now internally screaming, his ears blowing out steam now from embarrassment. they must be, since he could feel his face rise in temperature faster than ever, he might even be a new shade of scarlet now. he's resorted now to lying face first on the floor, burying his face in his arms trying to shield himself from your commentary.
he didn't budge when you poked him with your fingers, trying to show him photos of his even younger self. satoru won't deny it, he was cute as a baby. the cutest even (his ego was whispering that) — but to have you witness him in all his newborn glory? that was too much for him. now his image was shattered (the one he created in his head), you won't look at him the same anymore. you'll only think the words cute and adorable, and so on after this. no more comments on how hot he was, how undeniably attractive his smile was.
satoru gojo, was indefinitely, ruined.
that was at least his way of thinking. you were internally dying on the inside.
to think that at such a young age, satoru still held the most striking pair of eyes you've ever seen. even as a baby you could see that he held the heavens and even the depths of hell in them. you can see why many people whispered how his birth had changed everything in the jujutsu world.
but even so, you couldn't bring yourself to care about those old rumors. right now, you were focusing on just how cute he used to look, back when he was just a couple of pounds and was drowning in innocence that any baby had.
"hey satoru?"
"..mm?", well at least you got a reaction.
"who took these photos anyway?"
you had to wait a few seconds until you heard him shuffle, moving on all fours before sitting up and placing himself right next to you. the embarrassment had died down, just a bit. there was still evident pink on his neck, ears, and cheeks.
"it was mostly just my mom and the maids. they were the ones who always dressed me up too."
that made you smile, the image of a fussy satoru not wanting to put baby gloves on with a matching outfit — it was too good not to imagine. a few moments passed before satoru carefully snatched a handful of photos from you. you were about to protest when he began telling you the story behind each of them, or well, the ones he could remember.
maybe you seeing him like that wasn't so bad after all.
p.s., now he's totally gonna send some of these to the group chat. bet he was a cuter looking baby than suguru and shoko anyway.
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torusdove · 5 days
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Satoru Gojo deserves gentle love.
Gentle love, such as letting him put his head onto your lap after a long day of running around after the kids. Sure, he absolutely loves his work, but it can be exhausting from time to time. Nothing, and I mean nothing, beats crashing down onto your soft thighs and having your fingers in his hair. He loves being doted on as if he were a little baby, and he laps all the affection up like one as well.
Gentle love, such as peppering his face in tiny little kisses. Don't confuse them with chaste and rushed kisses. No. Satoru expects you to take your time, moving your lips at a slow pace. First, his forehead, then the birthmark above his eyebrow, then his temple.. you're mapping out his whole face with your plump, soft lips. As I said before, he adores being doted on.
Gentle love, such as reading him. Though he might not be a huge fan doing it himself, he could die to the sound of your voice. He can fully relax while you read him your current interests, your voice changing without yourself even noticing. He might fall asleep, or he might just admire you until you ask him to go to bed yourself. Either way, he won't disturb you, won't disturb his source of tranquillity.
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ohimsummer · 4 months
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✎ . . .❝ PUSSY PRIVILEGES ARE GONE ❞
— talking about pussy + one mention of “dick privileges”, whiny satoru, poly! satosugu x afab! reader, serial manspreader + sassy man Suguru, black reader in mind :3
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“You can’t do this to me.” Silence. “Baby, pleaseee!”
“Nah.,” you scoff. “Over with, pussy privileges are gone, and that’s final.”
“All because I don’t like the nickname?,” Suguru asks besides you, head cocked like a puppy.
You tug at Satoru’s strong hold around your waist. “Yep. Can’t get a kiss, can’t give my boyfriend a nickname. You two don’t love me anymore.”
Suguru crosses his arms over his chest, sinking further into the couch, traces of a pout falling over his face. He sighs. “What’s wrong with just calling me Sugu?”
You fight helplessly against Satoru, ignoring his continuous whining as he pulls you back into his lap. “What’s wrong with calling you ‘Papa Sugs’?”
“You can’t be serious.”
Huffing, with Satoru’s overdramatic and agonized moaning in the background. “Pft. Imma show you some damn serious.”
Suguru’s chuckle, exasperation creeping up the edges. “Sure. You’re gonna ban us from your pussy for…?”
“Indefinitely.,” you grunt, finally prying yourself from Satoru’s grip in his shock at your response.
“Baby!,” he whines, blinking shiny blue eyes at you beneath white lashes. “Baby, I-“
“Ohhh, so now I’m baby?”, you tease, rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t baby when you weren’t kissing me back, loser.”
“It was a joke!” Gojo puffs out his cheeks. “I’m a changed man, I promise.”
“Oh, okay.,” you smile at the knit of his brows. “You’re gonna be a changed man, alright.”
Satoru falls over into Suguru’s lap, stuffing his face into aforementioned man’s shirt and whining a muffled ,”You sooo hate us.”
“Whatever.,” you brush them off with a wave of your hand, heading to the kitchen. “Consider it a lesson in punishment.”
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Six days. Just shy of a week before Suguru shows signs of cracking, because Satoru couldn’t withstand this whole thing to begin with. He’d tried everything from begging to gifts to taking your ‘dick privileges’, and then being immediately thwarted with a flick of your vibrator.
“That thing’s gonna replace us?,” Suguru snorts, nibbling the inside of his cheeks.
“It’ll do for now.,” you giggle with a raise of your chin. In truth, it didn’t even come close, but you’re far too petty to admit that.
“Can’t believe that is gonna get more action than me.,” Satoru groans into the pillows. “I’m gonna die at this rate.”
“Good.,” and he jolts up with wide eyes at your response. “I’ll make an example out of you for Geto.”
Satoru drags himself up to pout in your direction. "You could at least call me Satoru, he's the one you're upset with about names."
"No, first names are for boyfriends only."
Suguru lays sprawled out on the bed, legs spread open in retaliation, tapping around on his phone. "Oh? And when did we lose boyfriend privileges?"
"Since just then."
Both men narrow their eyes at you, glancing at eachother before Suguru massages a temple, lids fluttering as his eyes roll to the back of his head. "Fine, we're terrible boyfriends. Happy now?"
You adjust the towel around your chest, and disappear into the bathroom for a shower. "Nope, but I'm glad y'all know."
Ever dramatic, Satoru points an accusatory finger at Suguru. "This is your fault, she didn't take these privileges until you and that whole Papa Sug nonsense!"
"Well, you started it."
Their bickering raises bouts of giggles in your throat. Water spouts from the shower head when you turn the knob, and you tinker for a few minutes to get it to a temperature of your liking. At the sound of your 'ahem', both men go silent.
"First one to join me in the shower gets pussy privileges ba–“
There's a sound of rapid scuffling, Satoru's 'ow!', and then a flash of dark hair as Suguru slams and locks the door behind him.
"Not fair, I fell!," Satoru whines from the other side, jiggling the knob.
"Desperate are we?," you flash your tongue at Suguru as he strips bare.
"Mm." comes his quiet response, not wanting to fully admit this little game of yours was a lot more painstaking than he let on.
"Does that mean I get to call you Papa Sugs now?" Before he can open his mouth, you add, "If not then you gotta get out."
"Yes, kick him out!," Satoru pipes in, door now wide open and you notice the knob is not as attached as it was before.
Suguru sighs, throwing his shirt in Satoru's face before pinching your waist, and he smirks when you give a small yelp. "Fine."
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earthtooz · 1 year
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hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3
gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!
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“where is our couch?”
gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.
“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.
that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.
and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.
“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull. 
“is it not in the living room?”
he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.
“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”
the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”
“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps. 
instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.
he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”
you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.
“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”
you sigh, “yes.”
“i warped it somewhere.”
“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”
“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”
that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye. 
“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz. 
“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”
“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.” 
his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”
before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind. 
rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.
“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.
“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”
“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”
“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”
you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”
“-then i’ll warp her house.”
“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”
“so you think i’m impressive?”
“gojo.”
“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”
you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.” 
“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 
you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you. 
“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill. 
your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.
he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.” 
gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.
his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done. 
even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade. 
as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you. 
it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.
“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”
“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”
“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”
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slttygeto · 5 months
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guys, i hope you know that dad! satoru and his baby boy would share similar laughs/giggles and over the silliest things too. like if your baby starts giggling about a lego house falling apart, satoru joins him and literally falls over from laughter. both of their faces turn pink from laughing so hard and then they do it all over again 🥹
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taohs · 7 months
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五条悟 for @gojosattoru
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i’ll relearn love at our kitchen table ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru doesn’t quite know what love is supposed to feel like. but if it means coming home to you, it can’t possibly be that much of a curse.
word count; 4.9k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, satoru gojo vs. the mortifying ordeal of being loved, fluff fluff fluff!!, a hint of angst if you reeeaallyyy squint, gojo’s pov, the babygirlification of satoru gojo, i just think being babied would fix him <33
a/n; i wanted to write something for suguru or shoko but this man is genuinely holding my brain hostage atp so more satoru fluff it is!! physically i could write gojo angst yes but emotionally? imagine the toll…
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when satoru steps over the threshold to your apartment, he’s downright exhausted.
it’s a heavy kind of fatigue, a little sickening. the kind that seems to sneak its way into his bones, crawl its way under his skin. dragging him down, down, down.
a yawn slips from his lips.
the mission itself wasn’t too tough — anything is a breeze for satoru gojo, that fact needs no elaboration. this one was just a little more taxing than usual, slightly more important, which meant he had to deal with the technicalities of it all. had to listen to the elders go on and on about the importance of discretion, about finishing things swiftly and efficiently, and something else he didn’t stick around long enough to hear.
and the curse? a small fry, really. nothing worth fussing over. but it was annoying, with that irritatingly effective barrier technique. how long did he have to stay inside that goddamn veil before it let him get close enough to land a hit? 
satoru doesn’t want to think about it, can’t be bothered to figure it out when all he wants is to collapse into the warm comfort of a soft mattress. all he knows is that when it finally lifted, the night sky was the only thing he could see. a vacuum of stars — taunting in its perpetuity.
so, with all that being said; to say satoru feels a little worn out might be a bit of an understatement. 
hair slightly tousled, eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation, he slumps against the wall and allows himself to simply breathe. a soft groan flows from his parted lips as he stretches idly, a small respite for his stiff and achy joints, his tired muscles. 
it’s been a long day. but satoru still finds it in him to exhale a relieved breath, to drag his blindfold down to his neck and kick off his shoes.
because it’s been a long, long day — but now he’s finally home.
(not just a house, not just an apartment, but a home. a place of comfort and belonging. satoru didn’t think that was a luxury he would ever be able to afford.)
the moment he lets the door close behind him, a particular scent greets him. soothing in its familiarity, the only thing in his life that never seems to change; a blend between fresh laundry, and watered houseplants, and something that smells a bit like honey. maybe even sweeter than usual, though satoru chalks that up to his mind playing tricks on him. 
it’s nice. so nice. coming back to something warm and real, a respite from his hectic work. a safe haven, of sorts, one that hasn’t been taken from him just yet.
satoru likes to think of your front door as a threshold between realms, a gap between within and without. one is dark in its saturation, plagued by that never-fading smell of iron, while the other is simply warm. sacred in its normalcy. 
everything looks just as it should, the same as when he rushed out this morning; a fluffy blanket draped over the couch haphazardly, that soft golden light streaming out from the kitchen, your shoes by the front door.
satoru blinks, drowsily.
wait.
why is the kitchen light still on?
as if his eyes could ever deceive him, satoru rubs the skin under them groggily — blinking once, then twice. 
yep, it’s still there — that soft fluorescent glow. a sight he’s come to associate with breakfast and dinner and a mellow kind of love, laughter shared over warm meals made by human hands. food tastes better, satoru has come to realize, when you have someone to eat it with. 
ah, but it’s odd. did you forget to turn the lights off? that’s not very like you. 
as if possessed by a strange, irresistible longing, his feet carry him to the kitchen in question. undeniably groggy, his uncoordinated steps are riddled with fatigue, but the yearning in his chest compels him to move forward anyway — a kind of yearning he only fully understands when he enters the space, and sees you slumped over the table, a familiar flicker of cursed energy capturing his attention.
you’re asleep.
satoru stills, where he stands by the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.
everything looks the same as always — cookie jars placed on the highest shelf to give him an excuse to help you reach them, origami made from newspapers he never bothers to read anyway, a vase standing proudly on the kitchen counter, stuffed with fresh flowers he bought for you two days ago. 
the red roses still haven’t wilted, shining in the blue of the moonlight flickering in. good. they’re pretty, but maybe next time he should get you something more original. maybe some sunflowers, something that could rival the brightness of your smile. do they even sell sunflowers this time of year? if you were awake, satoru would ask you, even though you always tell him to just google it —
but you're not awake. you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against the kitchen table, snoring softly.
satoru feels his mood lift at the sight alone, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as tired anymore. something soft and almost otherworldly sprouts in his chest, as he takes you in, stepping closer. almost giddy, just to see you up close.
you look so peaceful and relaxed, so content. elbows resting on the table as soft little breaths fall from your parted lips; he spots a bit of drool on the corner of your bottom lip, gaze fond as he wipes it away with his thumb. he can’t resist the urge to poke your cheek, and it makes you stir ever so slightly — lips curling up into something akin to a sleepy smile.
satoru grins.
(you’re so cute.)
despite his fatigue, he hears himself chuckle, all soft and amused and a little bit lovesick. it comes to him so easily, when he’s with you; that upturn of his lips, the butterflies in his stomach.
satoru is still getting used to it. this cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love. the kind that always feels like spring. but with every day that passes, the life he has with you becomes a little easier to digest. his future with you becomes a little easier to visualize.
yeah, he thinks. he could get used to this. coming home to you.
a soft smile, as he exhales a somewhat exasperated breath. you really shouldn’t be sleeping out here, though. silly.
satoru leans forward, inching closer to your pretty, sleeping face — he almost feels bad, waking you up like this. but he wants to hear your voice so badly.
so he cups your cheek, cold skin meeting warm, his hands still lingering with the bite of the midnight air. his fingertips tingle, buzzing with the body heat that trickles from your veins to his — one single touch is all it takes for him to soften.
the word that falls from his lips breaks the peaceful silence of the kitchen, breathing life into the moment. whispered into your ear, causing your brows to furrow as you gently slip from sleep’s embrace.
“baby…” 
satoru is smiling, when your eyelids flutter open. a sincere smile, reserved for you and his students. bathed in the mellow hue of the kitchen lamp’s illumination, a soft glow curls around the strands of his white hair, creating a halo of artificial light.
blinking sleepily, you gaze at him in silence. something shines in your eyes, something satoru tentatively recognizes as adoration. and he gazes right back at you, with heavy-lidded eyes and a lopsided smile. teasing, lighthearted. thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheek.
then he grins, hopelessly endeared. ”hey there, sleeping beauty.”
a yawn tumbles from your lips, and you lift yourself up. leaning into his touch. “toru…” you mumble, voice a little raspy but still oh so sweet.
satoru doesn’t say anything. he simply takes you into his arms, gently, touch so very delicate — as if you’re made of porcelain. and you just let yourself fall into his embrace, while he tucks you under his chin, safe and secure. 
it’s warm, he thinks. it feels right. complete, somehow.
and satoru thinks to himself that this must be what love feels like. what it’s supposed to feel like, anyhow, all sweet and light. all good and normal, something you never have to question. a cornerstone.
“you’re back…” you drawl, muffled into his uniform as your arms sneak around his thin waist. bringing him closer.
stroking the back of your head softly, satoru’s chest rumbles as he speaks, voice deep and a little raspy. soothing, a lullaby just for you. “yeah,” he hums. ”were you waiting?”
all you do is nuzzle further into his chest, cheek smooshed right over his heart; breathing out a sleepy little mhm that has him going weak at the knees, lips curling up helplessly.
“i wanted to…” you continue, stretching your arms a little to shrug away the remnants of sleep still clinging to your joints. “but i fell asleep.” 
satoru feels you move in his arms, until your jaw settles on top of his shoulder and you press a chaste kiss to his neck. an exhale leaves his lips, something tender in the way his breath wavers.
“welcome home,” is whispered, muffled against his skin. a sentence he never wants to go a single day without hearing. “did the mission go okay?”
he plants a kiss on top of your head, speaking in a low tilt, reassuring. “it did. just took a little longer than i thought.” a soft inhale, as he basks in the scent of your shampoo. “i wanted to text you, but the veil blocked my signal. sorry, sweetie.”
another soft yawn, and a shake of your head. “s’ fine, don’t worry,” you murmur. ”i’m just glad you’re okay.”
satoru chuckles. there’s a fondness to it, light. and then something else, something more heavy — it rumbles through his chest, almost like a purr, or a soothing thunderstorm. he can only hope it’s enough to comfort you.
“of course.” he says the words like they’re indisputable, like they’re written down in scriptures old and worn. cradling you in his strong arms, he pulls you closer to his chest. hoping you’ll feel his heartbeat against you, feel that he’s there. “i always am, aren’t i?”
no answer. only a tiny hum, absentminded.
and satoru knows, deep down, that his words don’t mean much. that a part of you is always going to worry over him, no matter how many times he tells you that there’s no need. that he’ll be fine.
the thought makes him feel a bit guilty. a little sick to his stomach, at the thought of being a source of your anxiety, the reason you can’t fall asleep at night — but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also make him feel somewhat giddy. the thought tastes sweet, on his tongue, even though it probably shouldn’t.
having someone who worries for you is a luxury, satoru has come to realize. a luxury he has, now, one he hasn’t had since —
well. that’s neither here nor there.
(“be careful, satoru,” he recalls a kind boy saying.
but that was many, many springs ago.)
“oh, right.”
at the sound of your voice, satoru pulls away ever so slightly, gazing down at you. “hm?”
with a single step back, you look up at him. tilting your head. hands still resting securely on his waist, fingertips squeezing at his hips. lightly, affectionately. barely restrained fondness. ”have you had anything to eat yet?”
“yeah. got some takeout on my way back.”
satoru expects you to sigh in relief, at his instantaneous answer. you don’t like it when he skips meals, so these days he’s been trying not to do it as much. even though he doesn’t always have the time to eat properly, and even though the sweets he chews on between missions make him lose his appetite. but he makes an honest attempt, for you.
someone worries for him. someone wants him to eat well. that’s more than enough motivation for satoru gojo.
but you don’t exhale, and you don’t look very relieved, either. you look… disappointed. eyes suddenly glancing down at the floor, lips curled down into a barely noticeable frown. 
“oh,” you breathe. “okay. good.”
one second. then two. satoru tilts his head.
“why?” he stops to think. maybe… “did you make something?”
a certain recognition flickers in the depths of your eyes, and satoru thinks he must be right on the money. chewing at your bottom lip a little, you wait a moment before curling your fingers around his wrist — tugging him away from the kitchen table.
satoru follows, pliantly, until you’re standing in front of the fridge.
“well, um… here,” you mumble, somewhat sheepishly. fingers tapping at the handle before pulling it open. “take a look.”
satoru watches as the fridge door opens, slowly.
he blinks.
the first thing he sees is a single slice of strawberry shortcake. the strawberry looks fresh, glittering like a ruby on top of the softly whisked cream — and layers of sponge cake, that look like they’d melt in his mouth.
and that’s not all. there are a wide array of baked treats stuffed into the cramped space, protected by plastic wrapping and containers. everything from cupcakes with too much frosting — just the way he likes them — to chocolate chip cookies that crumble at the corners, satoru never seems to run out of things to look at. colourful treats, lovingly made and sitting right in front of him. it’s like he’s standing in a patisserie. they almost seem to sparkle, in the peripheral of his vision; glimmering softly, tantalizingly, like something out of a dream.
childish. that’s what nanami and shoko always call him, and he always protests, but —
maybe they have a point, after all. satoru certainly feels a little childish, when he realizes his eyes must be wide and bursting with child-like giddiness. a simple kind of joy, at seeing the ample selection in front of him. especially after that tedious mission prevented him from getting any sugar into his system.
”i did my best,” you mutter, sharing the sight with him as your eyes trail over a pretty bag of pink and green macarons. ”dunno if they turned out any good, but… i hope you’ll like them.”
satoru’s gaze flits over to you. 
he opens his mouth, and then closes it again.
”did you… make these?” a beat. ”for me?”
a blink. ”.. yeah?” who else would they be for?, your eyes seem to say. a little confused.
for a second, satoru can only stare at you. in complete silence, the tired cogs inside his head turning sluggishly as he thinks about the implications of that answer. and with a soft flutter, he feels his heartbeat pick up, warming him up from the inside out. 
you made them. with your own hands. you made all of these and you did it for him.
for some reason, satoru finds it oddly hard to speak, like someone stuffed a bunch of cupcakes down his throat. it’s weird — usually he can’t seem to stop talking, especially not when he’s with you, but… 
(something about this is just too tender.)
you must have been baking all day. no wonder the apartment smelled sweeter than usual, when he walked in.
as if itching to curl around one of the macarons, his fingers twitch, but satoru gulps and keeps them still. he wants to say something, anything, wants to thank you or ask why you’d spend so much of yourself on him, but satoru only stays silent.
and maybe it’s because he’s tired. maybe he’s just a little caught off guard. usually this wouldn’t be that hard to handle — he could just throw himself on you and shower you in kisses, show his appreciation with a flurry of dramatics and declarations of love. 
but right now there seems to be a disconnect, between satoru’s mind and body. maybe the mission drained him more than he realized. or maybe it’s more than that, maybe there’s nothing he can say or do; what words could he even begin to use to properly verbalize the emotions he’s feeling right now? how could his touch ever begin to measure up to the sweet sensation unfurling in his chest?
the silence doesn’t last long. as satoru stands there and spirals, you speak up, most likely chalking it up to him being too sleepy to react. 
”this mission was especially rough, right?” you begin, with a soft tilt of your head. a smile curls its way onto your lips, proud and sweet. sweeter than everything in the fridge combined.
one step, then two. you inch closer to him, until there’s almost no space between you — standing on your tiptoes, one hand on his shoulder and the other reaching for his head. smoothing down his tousled hair, fingers tangling themselves between the soft white strands and getting lost in them. and it’s gentle, the way you begin to pat his head, doting. 
then you speak. ”you did well.”
and it’s such a simple thing to say. three words, three syllables, but the words just tumble out from your mouth so earnestly that satoru can’t help but still. his breath hitches in his throat, softly, barely noticeable, but it’s there. that surprise.
he never knows how to act, when you get like this. patting his head and ruffling his hair like he’s something warm and sweet and worthy of love. something delicate, and not the strongest man on the planet. 
it’s so weird. you’re so weird.
(satoru leans into your touch without thinking, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.)
it’s perplexing, this feeling, and the fact that he can’t pinpoint why frustrates him to no end. isn’t this wrong? shouldn’t he be the one ruffling your hair, coddling you?
what formula is he supposed to follow here, exactly? should he tease you? pull away from your touch?
satoru wishes his six eyes could tell him the answer, but they don’t. they’ve never been very good with emotions, with things that aren’t directly tied to his suffering or imminent death.
(so ironic. all these eyes and nothing to see. they failed to see suguru’s silence, back then, and now they fail to see what reaction would please you the most. 
really, such a worthless ability to love people with.)
no answer comes to him. so satoru doesn’t tease you, and he doesn’t pull away.
it does feel slightly wrong, though. like this feeling isn’t something he’s supposed to have, there must be some mistake, he can’t possibly be allowed to feel so loved — can he? having you bake him all his favorite treats, run your fingers through his hair. praise him for working hard.
really. isn’t he being too coddled?
(… but it feels so nice.)
satoru suspects that there’s a lot to love he might not fully understand, just yet.
maybe tomorrow, when he’s a little less tired, he can try once again to give you the impression that he’s perfect. that he doesn’t need affection, that he doesn’t crave your support or your touch. that he’s above all that, the strongest, someone for you to depend on.
depend on him, while he depends on no one. that’s the kind of existence satoru gojo is. that’s how it should be, that’s all he knows, but…
— ah. it feels really nice when your nails scratch his scalp like that.
and suddenly, that’s all satoru can think. no more pesky what-ifs, or second guessing every good thing he gets. right now, it’s just you and him. your fingers in his hair, his footprints in your life.
satoru allows himself to melt under your touch, almost meekly. leaning down just a little further, to make it easier for you to smooth your hand over his head. he nuzzles into your palm with a happy little exhale, and for some reason he feels sort of bashful.
try as he might, he doesn’t manage to successfully shoo the emotion away, so all he can do is hope you don’t take note of it.
and you just continue your onslaught of affection, now ruffling his hair with both your hands, like he’s a big puppy getting cooed over. satoru has a nagging suspicion that you might be getting a little carried away, but he doesn’t stop you. greedy, in the way he wishes your hands would never leave his hair. the way he hopes you’ll never be too far away from him to reach.
”such a hard worker,” you coo, and he feels himself grow flustered. ”my baby deserves so much love.”
”woah there,” satoru chokes out, grinning, desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint to his ears. ”are you flirting with me? i have a partner, you know.”
a giggle slips from your lips, sleepy and amused. ”oh, do you?” one of your hands goes to cup his cheek,  thumb caressing the edge of his jaw as you gaze at him fondly. ”lucky them.”
the grin you’re wearing is awfully bright. soft around the edges in a way that has him speechless, brain malfunctioning ever so slightly. satoru makes a mental note to scrap the sunflower idea — there has to be some brighter flower out there, one that can actually compete with your smile. sunflowers just won’t cut it.
but then you let go, and satoru gets broken out of his lovesick stupor.
when your hands leave his skin, his lips curl down into a soft pout. one he rushes to smooth away, before you can notice it.
you step back, failing to stifle a soft bout of laughter, but satoru knows it’s not because you saw it — he knows because your gaze is glued to his hair, and he internally winces when he thinks about how messy it must look, after your little bout of cuteness aggression. 
(you really are weird, finding him cute of all things.)
he expects you to tease him a little more, but you don’t, turning away and tapping your fingers on the kitchen counter. ”if i’d known you’d be home this late,” you speak, stealing one last glance at the pastries before closing the fridge. ”then i would’ve waited until tomorrow. so you could eat them fresh.”
an apology rests on satoru’s tongue, but as if sensing it, you rush to reassure him.
”ah, but this is fine too! they should still taste good!” you turn away, muttering. ”… hopefully.”
then you nod to yourself, crossing your arms absentmindedly. 
satoru looks at you for a second. 
then he steps forward, unable to resist the temptation — tapping at your wrist with the pads of his fingers, before gently curling them around it, coaxing you into turning your head towards him.
the kiss he presses to your lips is soft, delicate. his fingers trace along your jaw, cupping your cheek and tilting your face up slightly, just letting his warm lips rest against yours. sweet and chaste. he sighs into the kiss, content, and feels your pulse pick up.
then he moves down to your jaw, slow and methodical — lazy kisses, sleepy but so full of affection. and little pecks, scattered all over your lips, your cheek, the tip of your nose.
you seem to melt a little, against him, and satoru relishes in it; his ability to make you relax. far more valuable than the six eyes, he would argue.
when he pulls away from you, with what takes tremendous self-restraint, he’s smiling. his gaze meets yours, layered over with pure adoration, blue eyes crinkling as he looks at you. as if you’re his entire world. the kitchen light embraces him, cascading down the contours of his face; the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his barely noticeable dimples.
and there it is, again — that flicker of love in your eyes, that adoration. as if you’re looking at a painting, something too beautiful for words.
(satoru hopes you can see that very same adoration, reflected in his eyes as he looks at you.)
after a moment, he leans forward, to rest his jaw on the curve of your shoulder. you stumble a little under the weight, caged in as his arms hug your midriff.
”god,” he sighs, breathless, heavy with giddy disbelief. almost whining when he continues, nuzzling into your neck as if to hide. ”why are you so perfect, huh? i don’t get it.”
at that, you huff out a laugh, an amused little breath. wrapping your arms around his neck and scratching softly at his nape. satoru shudders just a little, arms tightening around you.
”stealing my line…” you mutter, accusatory, smile laced over with a honeyed affection. 
another amused breath, this time from him. this is one battle he won’t let you win. ”nah,” he grins, tugging you closer. ”’s mine.”
this is warm, he thinks. this feels right. complete, in a way that satoru never understood before you.
he could probably stand there forever, just basking in it. soaking up your body heat and the smell of your shampoo. until your warmth is all he knows, until he can never get your scent off his skin.
and satoru thinks that he could get used to this. a cotton candy sweet, light as a feather kind of love, one that smells like spring and tastes like strawberry shortcakes and feels like tight hugs shared in kitchens.
your love makes him feel so human. and it’s scary, terrifying even, but it's also too good to pass up. it’s worth the risk. so worth everything.
a yawn leaves your lips, suddenly. satoru feels you soften in his embrace, nuzzling closer to him, stumbling just a tad; he doesn’t think it’s fair, for such a simple gesture to make him as happy as it does.
”sleepy?” he coos, smile giddy and fond. ”let’s go to bed, okay? no more sleeping on the kitchen table, silly.”
a disgruntled little huff resounds throughout the air, as you let your arms fall to your sides. ”that’s on you,” you declare, poking the plush of his chest with your finger. ”i only fell asleep because you took so long.”
a teasing glint flickers in satoru’s eyes.
”wanted to see me that badly, huh?” he coos. you roll your eyes, and he pulls your cheek. ”that’s cute.”
”so what if i did?”
satoru stills. you’re smiling, a little mischievous, but mostly sincere. and it really is very unfair of you, he thinks — to do this to him while his guard is down. 
but he manages to pull himself together, raising an amused eyebrow and booping your nose in a way that catches you off guard. blinking up at him, eyelashes fluttering. 
satoru clears his throat. ”well, that’s sweet.”
then he turns on his heel, suddenly, and strolls over to the fridge. ”but you know what’s even sweeter?” he chirps, fingers curling around the handle as he swiftly pulls it open. 
licking his lips, absentmindedly, his eyes trail over all the different pastries. so close yet so far, just out of reach; his fingers move forward, towards that mesmerizing slice of strawberry shortcake —
”— no.”
a hand settles on satoru’s waist, and tugs him away from his well-deserved prize. taking advantage of his momentary surprise, you close the fridge decisively, and give him an unimpressed raise of your eyebrow.
satoru whines, loud and grating. pouting sweetly, trying to make you feel bad. ”c’mon, just one bite —”
”no.”
”but they’re for me!”
”they’re for you to eat tomorrow. i was only gonna let you eat them tonight if you were on the brink of starvation, or something.”
”i am!”
”so the takeout was a lie?” you narrow your eyes at him, suddenly suspicious. ”have you been skipping meals, again?”
satoru pauses. weighing his options. ”well, no, but…”
”— then no.”
another soft whine. you turn away from him, when he tilts his head and gives you his best set of puppy dog eyes. in fear of giving in to them, satoru knows, as you have so many times before. ”please?” he tries, to no avail.
”you’re not eating sweets before bed, satoru,” you deadpan, and his smile falls further, exaggerated. ”and no, we are not having that conversation again.”
he can tell you’re trying to sound stern, but a giggle tumbles from your lips nonetheless, at the ridiculousness of the situation. keeping a grown man away from your fridge, knowing that he’ll wolf down every pastry he sees and get himself sick if you don’t. all while the man in question whines at you in protest, frowing so deeply, disappointment evident on his features.
(except satoru really isn’t very disappointed at all. like this, he gets to stare at your smile all he wants, after all; knowing you won’t notice it, too busy trying to keep yourself from giving in to his pleas.)
he tries again, one last time. just because he knows it’ll make you laugh. you do, a little exasperated, and satoru couldn’t be happier. 
and he thinks to himself that if this is what love is, if this is what it’s supposed to feel like, then it can’t possibly be that much of a curse. 
maybe he should revise the hypothesis, get a second opinion. he’ll have to ask you tomorrow, over pastries and coffee, and hear what you have to say.
as you both stumble to the bedroom, sleepy and a little delirious, satoru thinks that maybe this is enough; the lighthearted banter, the fond laughter. everything good and real and normal, within the space of your apartment, a home he never thought he’d have.
(and maybe, a second opinion isn’t necessary, after all. maybe it doesn’t really matter if love is a curse or not, as long as he gets to share it with you, like this.)
that night, satoru dreams. curled up with you beneath the blankets, limbs tangled together, as if he could never be close enough.
he dreams of kitchen lights, of sweet treats and warm hands. of spring breezes, and a love he’s finally beginning to accept for what it is:
good. wholly and thoroughly.
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bliss-in-the-void · 7 months
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THEY FUCKING DID IT THE ROMANTIC PIANO MUSIC AND THE FLASHBACK MONTAGE OF SUGURU’S FACE NOOOOO IM IN SHAMBLES AHHHHHHHHHHH
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THE PARTIAL SMILE!! Like his first instinct was happiness at seeing Suguru omg
The montage of Suguru’s face gave dead wife vibes oh my god and the gorgeous, wistful piano song they chose…I wonder what it’s called. Maybe “Blue Spring”? I don’t think it’s out yet but ohh if it is someone tell me pls
I just needed to rant ugh 🥹 they did it justice!!
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mrsackermannx · 7 months
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Honey, I’m home…
GOJO SATORU X FEM READER MDNI
tags: ceo/dad/husband gojo, smut, light degradation (use of slut twice), not pet play but he calls her a kitty, exhibitionism (gojo is on a zoom call), teasing, one shot.
wc: 3.7k
a/n: after the manga and the anime last week, this was needed for me to revive (an oldie from the drafts) 😭 not to mention spanish uni is kicking my ass so satoru is keeping me sane rn hahaha 🫣
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Eating breakfast alone was seldom done in the Gojo household, because Satoru liked the kind of breakfasts that looked like they do in the movies. 
An assortment of brightly coloured fruits and pancake stacks, his wife by his side, a smug grin on his face as he sipped his coffee and asked everyone what they’d be doing with their day. The odd dad joke or two, or more. 
You snorted quietly at the thought, pausing at the fridge door. The kids were at Megumi and Yuuji’s, so they couldn’t tease you for being sentimental, or groan at the photos their embarrassing father insisted be plastered to the fridge.
Heart shapes, letters, bunnies, an assortment of magnets stuck decades worth of fond memories to the appliance. Your daughter’s first birthday, with Satoru at her side helping her blow out the candles, your second son’s first time at a water park on Satoru’s shoulders, last Christmas vacation in the Philippines.  
Your eyes crinkled as you took notice of your favourite one, stroking the scrawl of Satoru’s handwriting on the Polaroid’s border. “Mr and Mrs Gojo.” 
The polaroid was the lovesick image of you and Satoru in Italy for your honeymoon.
You can remember the warmth of the evening, and how pink the sunburn was on the tip of his nose. Oh how the sun had bronzed the nape of his neck, making his white hair all the more a stark contrast. His cologne was sweet and intoxicating as his large hands dwarfed your cheeks, as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You could feel his smile as he did so, laughing at the cheers that engulfed you both. The faces visible behind you both were flushed and merry as your hands clasped. 
One of your favourite photos.
Your husband’s position as CEO of his clan’s company afforded all the luxuries a woman and a family could desire. But sometimes everybody needed Satoru. There were nights you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, only to be left with cold sheets and him muttering into his phone down the hall at the crack of dawn, Ijichi beeping just outside already. 
Satoru always told you to be selfish, to put yourself first, to be bold with your desires. But you found it hard to voice when you were feeling —greedy about him. When you were feeling so possessive you wanted to drive over to headquarters when he was doing overtime, and fuck him right in his office so everybody would know that work wasn’t his only priority. 
He’d been gone a mere twelve days, and he went on these trips three times a year, max—granted. And Satoru normally had his best men on them but sometimes he had to go too.
You almost scalded your lap with tea when you heard steps clicking through the foyer. You held your breath waiting for a sunny and inevitable rendition of a ‘Honey, I’m home!’ 
Instead you heard the surely jet-lagged mumble of your husband instead. “I forgot about it because I was overseas Nanami! You know you ought to let loose if you really think I should’ve come straight to headquarters as soon as I landed!”
He was positively barking on the line when his suitcases reached a sudden halt and he saw a peek of you in the kitchen. You grinned, jumping to your feet to greet him though he only gestured to his phone with a tired smile. 
You blew him a kiss and his shoulders slackened, finally dropping his bags. “Yes, bu-I’m already home! I’m not heading through traffic just to-“
You reclined back on your stool, grinning at him when he pointed an imaginary gun to his head at Nanami’s audible ranting on the other line.
“Fine, I’ll be on the call in five!” He ripped off his jacket and headed down the foyer, “Morning babe!” he boomed, “Didn’t wake you, did I?” 
His voice echoed down the hall. When you reached him you stood at the foot of the stairs, your hands on your hips. You arched one brow before you spoke through gritted teeth, “No, you didn’t.” 
The deep split of your robe was exposing the planes of your smooth skin, teasing slithers of your breasts and your belly button. He wanted nothing more than to get on his knees and worship you as if it were a holy day. He wanted your thighs swung over his shoulders, and his mouth right between them. 
He mentally cursed at the thought, releasing a deep sigh into his palm. “You okay, sweetheart?”
He didn’t even have the time. 
“Fine, and you?”
He could hear in your voice you were on the edge of asking something, asking for more. After so many years of marriage he could smell when a bad mood was brewing from you, better yet taste it. 
He tried to fool you as if it were easy, that signature grin, a smooth click of those fingers. “Nothing! Just gotta sit in on this meeting, goddess.” He winked, “Let’s catch up in a bit.”
The entire interaction had left you dumbfounded, standing in the foyer and suddenly feeling lonelier than you did eating breakfast alone. Somehow.
“Gojo fucking Satoru,” you hissed to yourself. “Do not goddess me.” 
Had someone replaced your husband with a clone? Satoru could have flown halfway across the world and back, after not seeing you for more than a day was enough to make him needier than ever. He always came back, desperate and ready to devour you.
You were unsettled, but quickly renewed with courage when you approached his study half an hour later and heard him speaking. His voice was back to its usual, chirpy and light.
You wavered for several seconds, loosening your robe before you slipped inside.
He was gesturing wildly with his hands, relaying the success of his trip no doubt. But when he saw you his eyes narrowed and then darkened. 
You resisted a smirk when you heard Choso’s voice seconds later. “Why’d you turn your camera off?” 
Then Toji’s, husky and bored. “We don’t have to see his smug face, do we?” he spat. “Anyway, I’m fucking falling asleep here. It’s early. You gonna continue or what?”
Satoru hummed, his voice now entirely reserved for you as his eyes were all over those bare thighs of yours. You were sprawled out on his chaise lounge and scrolling through your phone.
He cleared his throat, “Bad signal, sorry about that.” 
His eyes didn’t leave you, not even once. You could feel his gaze all over your skin, as scorching as the sun as you stretched and yawned where you lay. Languid and feigning innocence as you arched your back slightly and felt your robe slip enough to expose your bare breasts.
You heard a sharp intake of breath and continued stretching this way and that. But after minutes of this torment and his various sighs to grab your attention you relented and turned a fraction.
Lust was pooling in those crystalline eyes, turning them dark. If they were usually like waves sparkling in the morning sun, they were now akin to a bottomless ocean with a crescent moon’s light. 
A breath passed and you rose to your feet, mischief tipping the corners of your lips up into something erotic and enchanting to your husband. He tilted his head, asking a silent question as he hummed in agreement to whatever the hell Nanami had just said.
You shifted onto your knees and crawled between his legs and he smirked as if the sight amused him. You rested your cheek on his thigh, like a needy cat waiting to be played with. How dare you act as if you were waiting in apprehension when those eyes of yours said anything but.
His eyes finally flickered with warning, but not the red-light kind of warning, the kind that oozed with a dominance so overpowering that you bowed your head and took to quietly unzipping his pants. 
His teeth clenched in anticipation before he jabbed at his keyboard to mute himself, and gave you his attention. “Bored, huh? I can give you something worthwhile to do, honey. Just wanted something to suck on? Yeah?” he cooed, his voice dripping so sweetly in condescension that it made your teeth hurt.
He chuckled when you nodded eagerly, running this thumb over your lower lip as he unbuckled his belt one-handed. “I know, baby. I know. Ready for me?”
You grinned, opening your mouth for him to push his thumb into it first. “Be good to me, yeah? I don’t wanna have to cut my meeting short because you think it’s funny to tease.”
He spoke to you as if he was saying something as mundane as remember to take an umbrella today. Rather than a man who was now loudly slapping the tip of his cock on the tongue of his needy wife during a conference call. 
His low groans reverberated through your core, every inch of your skin waiting to be touched by your lover. The sweet and salty taste of him kissed your tastebuds and came with a rueful delayed reaction. At first it helped soothe the aching arousal between your legs but then it made you even needier. 
“How’s that for my spoiled little sweetheart? Heh heh, like a needy little cat, aren’t ya? Licking up every last drop.”
“Not as needy as you,” you purred, pulling away just in time for his arousal to drip onto your lower lip. “Meow.”
His brows knitted together at the sight, his arousal was glistening and smeared all over your lips.
“No, no. Don’t,” he hissed, before his voice sweetened. “Swallow it for me, baby. I’ve gotta get back to work.”
He winked and put a finger to his lips before asking Geto to repeat whatever convoluted question that had been background noise just moments ago. 
You smiled in glee around his dick when his voice wobbled the further you took him down your throat, doing your best to remain quiet just under his desk. But as usual, it was Satoru who threatened to blow your cover—as usual. 
You swelled with pride when he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing frantically and his chest heaving back and forth. 
It was Nanami who noticed first, interrupting Geto’s presentation when he hears a shaky breath stuttering through the laptop at the end of the conference table. “Gojo? Are we boring you?”
“Ah, no!” He scrambled forward so quickly he swiped a pot of stationery clean off his desk. Not without bumbles of laughter from the meeting room of men.
 “Just…working out!” he managed through gritted teeth, one hand still cradling the back of your head and guiding your sweet and unforgiving mouth back and forth. 
Toji sighed, the oldest of the men and the least naive. “You choose to do that shit now?”
Choso yawned, glancing toward an agitated Nanami. “What shit are we discussing?”
Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You’d know if you weren’t asleep, and Gojo save the workout for after the meeting, please. Let’s proceed.”
“Not my fault, I had to stay up and help Yuuji cram for an exam,” Choso mumbled. 
“Aww! Choso-nii!” Suguru laughed, “Satoru, are you hearing this?”
You were both momentarily so grateful for his team’s ability to bicker about anything down to the probability of rain that day, that you were bringing Satoru to heights of pleasure he’d not even dared anticipate. One he was laughably jet lagged and two he was in an incredibly important meeting but he couldn’t care less.
“Oh fuck, baby. Oh—juust like that!” he spluttered, unable to think about anything else other than the way you were flicking your tongue along his shaft. You sucked and rubbed your wet lips along that sensitive spot of his that made him whimper upon contact.
You fucking devil.
Suguru burst into laughter first, without Satoru’s arm the sounds of him slapping the table in his hysterics filled the room, then followed Sukuna’s laughter. “Is that pretty little wife of yours home by any chance?” he cackled, then Satoru was sure he heard Toji’s laughter but he was already too far gone. 
He hissed as he pulled you off his cock, coughing to smother the audible popping sound. His teeth sinking into his lower lip at the lewd sight of saliva drooling down onto your chest. “I hate you,” he hissed in a whisper. Before muting the call to allow you both to compose yourself, whilst Nanami scolded the team.
Then he was ready.
He cleared his throat before he spoke, “Sorry about that! My wife was giving me a quick massage before she headed out for work. You know how much sleeping on aeroplanes messes with my neck, right Nanami? Please, proceed.”
The sooner this ended the better. 
Sukuna snorted first, “Are you sure you weren’t fucking her?” 
“Would you refrain from referring to my wife like that, Sukuna? You are already on two strikes, aren’t you?” Satoru’s voice was so short and stern that even Nanami held his breath. 
“As I said, let’s continue.”
A chorus of “yes sir” had Satoru smirking down at you on the floor. His eyes locked on you as he made quick work of the mouse and pushed his keyboard aside, tapping the edge of your desk. 
You sprang to your feet to sit, the air thick with tension as he untied your robe to reveal the bare skin beneath it. “Oh baby, just look at you,” he purred, bringing his chair closer just to marvel at the sight before him.
His large hands gripped your breasts, sucking and licking until you relaxed and sank your hands into his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most. He was eager to please, his eyes not breaking from yours for even a second as he leaned forward and kissed your pussy, grinning when he found you slick and dripping for him.
He suckled on your clit until you mewled, his lips fitted to the bud as his tongue swirled and licked until you were gasping out his name. “Gojo? So, how did you find their sales department?” Nanami exhaled, “Gojo?”
He broke from you with an apologetic grin, assuming that sharp CEO voice as he flicked his mic back on. “Yeah, as I told Yaga when I was there the energy was not quite what I expected. It was interesting to see how their team implemented the techniques in which…”
But his words were lost on you, your teeth sunk into your lip as he flicked the tips of his fingers against your swollen clit. The movements were so deft and precise that they were turning your brain into mush, but they were also so tortuously light that you couldn’t handle it anymore. Heat rushed to your cheeks. Your eyes clamped shut.
Satoru removed his hand, tapping your thigh to grab your attention. He pointed to his cock with a smirk. “Ride me,” he mouthed. “Now.”
“Choso, how was your trip to Kyoto? Did you manage any meetings with the execs?” he continued, squeezing the backs of your thighs whilst you grabbed the base of him and hovered above his cock. 
“Well, I took my brother so I didn’t have a lot of time to….”
You shook your head, gulping when he flicked his finger across that mouse pad once more. 
“Ah? You gonna leave me hanging? That’s cruel, darling. More my style than yours. But as long as you keep quiet, we shouldn’t have a problem.” His voice was silky, and just ever so slightly mean, but it aroused you and he knew it. “Can’t have them hearing you like this, baby. Like you’re some kind of slut.” 
“Satoru, I won’t be able to be quiet, I can wait till after I-“
He tutted, sweeping his hands under your thighs as his gaze hardened. “You clearly can’t, so come on darling, sit on it for me, yeah? You know I hate these fucking meetings so help me get through it and fuck me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, until you were letting him take full control of your mouth.
“I’m just so tired baby, need you to take care of me,” he moaned into your lips. “I know you can, baby. I know your pussy needs me inside, huh?” he cooed, rutting his cock against your slicked cunt.
“Yes,” you whimpered, pulling away to find his his cheeks dusted with pink and his eyes barely open,
“Yeah?” 
You nodded, slotting one arm around his neck whilst you guided him to your cunt and began to sink down on him. “Oh fuuck,” he cursed, his voice leaving him in short hot bursts of air against your neck. 
“That’s it baby, go on. You’re gonna have to move for me baby. Go slow for me. Fuck me, touch me.”
His eyes fluttered shut as he guided your hands under his shirt, feeling your touch like this was enough to make him come sometimes. “Baby, fuck me. Come on.”
“Can’t. I’ll be noisy,” you whined, only a few inches full but yet struggling to focus on whatever Choso was rambling about and then promptly being interrupted by Geto and then Sukuna. 
“You’ve gotta make this up to me baby, didn’t touch myself the entire time I was away. You’re gonna make me lose it. This is your fault.”
“M’ sorry! I thought you wanted it. You were hard already!” 
“I always want you, baby. I always want it. Let me show you.” 
He lifted his hips and filled you in one fluid moment, both of your voices embracing in one sweet and lengthy moan. Before he was moaning with every thrust, “Cause you were prancing around my office looking too pretty like that baby, I’m about to show you just how much.” 
Your pussy clutched him so tight at the praise he groaned and found his lips landing on your own with a magnetic, desperate pull from within his heart. How lucky he was to come back home to you.
“Good girl, you knew exactly what I wanted, knew I wanted to come home and fuck you just like this.”
He watched your pussy drool down his cock as you moved up and down on it, tentative and hungry for him. Your pupils were blown wide, like you were drunk on him, like you had been waiting for the moment you could be like this with him.
It made his cock twitch, the sensation making you quiver and smother your noises into your palm. You stopped, his full length sheathed inside of you, the relief and pleasure that contorted your features was truly beautiful, the sight he’d been waiting for. You tried desperately to catch your breath, “Need a second.”
He brought you closer, wrapping an arm around your back as he whispered. “Huh? You needy little thing, I thought you couldn’t—fuckin’—wait.” Each word was separated by a breath as your cunt fluttered from his low, and reprimanding tone. “No way. No.”
He felt so good. He was filling you so well.
He flicked himself of mute to hum along to Toji’s thoughts of Choso’s pitch. But his breaths were growing more and more laboured. You turned to see Nanami’s face growing pink. “You falling asleep there or pumping one out before you crash man?” Sukuna asked.
“Sorry! I just—” His chest heaved, and he closed his eyes to take a breath just as your pussy was teasing his tip, so close but not close enough. You grinned as you took revenge and slammed down on him all at once, “Oh fuck!” he groaned.
“Sleeping on that plane really got my neck, just had to crack it.”
Toji leaned to look into the camera a huge smirk on his face, “Is your fucking wife with you?”
“What, of course not,” he answered, his pants surely audible the other end. “In the gym actually.”
“Are you serious?”
“Carry on with the meeting I don’t have all day.” That was his no bullshit tone. The sound of it making you throb so wildly he was all smug, a little ‘hmph’ leaving his lips as he muted the call once more.
Nanami stiffened, “Yes sir, Ijichi proceed.”
“You’re gonna pay for that, darling,” he breathed, locking your hips in place so he could pound up into you with ruthless precision. You were a whimpering mess, arms around his neck squeezing impossibly tight as you had no other choice but to take all he was offering.
“Toru, Toru! Toru!” Your voice climbed higher with every thrust, the lewd sounds of your moans only amplified by the high walls of his slick, black study. 
“Please, m’ sorry. Gonna come, gonna make a mess,” you cried.
“Oh yeah? I know you will.” His thumb started on your clit, rubbing tight little circles that had your lower half jolting and squirming, as his cock hit that spot like a hammer to a nail. All too perfect, all too precise, like everything your husband did.
Closer and closer, until you were pulling on his hair, body coated so much in sweat your hands resigned to clawing down his nape instead. 
“Please!”
“No baby, make a fucking mess. How could I ever say no to my wife? They all know it, you know it.”
“Important meeting…Nanami’ll get mad at me! He’ll know!”
“Fuck Nanami, fuck work, fuck everyone. Focus on me. Go on, oh? Too much?” He laughed, kissing down your throat. “You can cry baby, fuck yourself on my cock like there’s no fucking tomorrow,” he growled.
“Use me, use me, use me.”
You finally bursted but Satoru was still moving his hips like the sadist he truly was. “Feels too good doesn’t it baby, doesn’t it?” 
He laughed at the fluids covering your thighs and soiling his pants. “Fuuck, baby you’re so hot.”
Kissing your temple fondly, you both startled as you came back to reality. “Gojo!”
His fingers made quick work of his mouse. “Sorry! Sorry! I had to take an important call.”
“But um, listen I’m gonna have to go.” 
Luckily for him you’d slowed down so he could finally get his breaths even, chuckling and trying to sound as blasé as he could muster. “I’ve really gotta go! Nanami, update me, yeah!”
He ended the call before they could even complain.
You stood, legs shaking as you leant over to grab your robe. But Satoru was already gripping your ass from behind, “Where do you think you’re going? Shall I put another baby in ya this morning? You’re in heat after all. Clearly three aren’t enough, huh?”
He mounted you over his desk, his chest flat against your back as he filled you up all at once. “Why you so wet for, huh?” he groaned, already hitting that spot inside you that had you whining. “Because you’re a needy little slut who sucked me off—whilst I was busy working—or from squirting all over me and the desk? Come on baby! Tell me?”
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©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.
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saltoru · 8 months
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suggestive!
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gojo, who likes to touch you all over and dump his load inside of you, as a way to claim and protect you. the amount of time you've spent with him and the high level of intimacy you two share has effectively allowed gojo to gradually spread his energy onto you.
although you can't tell, jujutsu sorcerers around the world are able to pick up the scent and residue of gojo's jujutsu. you walking around with gojo's energy is his way to boldly and clearly express his love and power to the world, and everyone knows better than to land even a finger on the person claimed and protected by the strongest.
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hrtbeomi · 9 hours
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⋆ ˒ 💭 ۫  ּ ROMANCE IS NOT DEAD IF YOU KEEP IT JUST YOURS !
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pairing: actor!gojo x singer!reader wc: 0,3k            warnings: not proofread ‼️, reader's album is basically reputation by miss tswift 🙈
a/n: i've had this in my drafts for a while now,, hope you like it >< i just looove actor!gojo and if you'd like to see more of him leave a comment!
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WIRED AUTOCOMPLETE INTERVIEW WITH GOJO SATORU AND Y/N
3. 2. 1. ACTION !
As the camera clicked on, you sensed the beginning of another recording session. Satoru, next to you, shifted in his seat about before the start of the video.
"Hey there, it's l/n y/n," you chimed in with a grin, "and i'm Gojo Satoru," the white-haired male beside you smoothly finished, "and this is our Wired auto-complete interview!" both of you beamed as the staff handed over boards containing the internet's most searched questions.
Satoru held your board while you held his, diving into the depths of what the online people wanted to know about you.
Q. "Who's y/n l/n's 'gorgeous' about?"
With a smirk, you retorted, "sorry to burst your bubble, person-who-searched-that but 'gorgeous' is about your mom," you answered, eliciting laughter from Satoru and the crew.
"Lame! Just tell them the truth" Satoru teased, well aware of the implications behind his words.
"That's the only truth," you replied, feigning innocence before swiftly moving on.
Q. "Is y/n l/n's song 'call it what you want' about Gojo Satoru?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you stuttered, "That's... quite the assumption," failing miserably at masking your nerves.
The crew chuckled, mentioning how your fandom had already orchestrated a fictional relationship between you two.
"We know, next they'll claim we're expecting a baby or something!" Satoru quipped, earning a horrified look from you, "Alright, my turn now."
Q. "Who's Gojo Satoru's favorite actor?"
"I'd say my good ol' friend, Geto Suguru! He's a top-notch," Satoru replied, reminiscing about the movies and series they did together.
"True, i'm a big fan of his work" you confessed, prompting a playful pout from Satoru.
"Maybe he's not that great anymore," he mumbled in mock jealousy.
"You're good too!" you reassured him amidst laughter.
Q. "Is Gojo Satoru married to y/n l/n?"
"Spiritually i am" Satoru quipped, earning a playful jab from you.
"Don't encourage them, Satoru!" you scolded him.
"Sorry, couldn't resist," he replied unrepentantly.
Q. "Is Gojo Satoru in a relationship?"
"I am. . .not! i'm a lone wolf" Satoru declared with a hint of melancholy, though everyone in the room knew the truth but as you looked at him, his convincing lie almost had you fooled, if it weren't for the fact that you, his actual girlfriend, stood right beside him.
"Alright, alpha boy, next question!" you exclaimed before the tables turned.
Q. "What's the name of y/n l/n's next album?"
"I've just released 'reputation' can't I catch a break?" you exclaimed, playfully collapsing out of your chair.
"How dramatic," Satoru chuckled before suggesting, "You should write a song about me though."
CUT !
[BONUS] [CLIP THAT WAS CUT FROM THE VIDEO]
"Sure, it'll be called 'gorgeous,'" you teased, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"The greatest song ever! Although 'So It Goes' is my personal favorite," Satoru grinned mischievously, almost revealing too much of your relationship before you intervened.
"Too much information!" you laughed, covering his mouth to keep him from saying more.
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© 2024 HRTBEOMI
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gojoed · 7 months
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your eyes didn't need to be open to know that he was looking at you. deft and lean fingers carded and twirled with the strands of your hair that were splayed over his lap. the soft wind that blew through the gojo estate drove the smell of summer to you.
satoru's fingers would sometimes wander to your face, tracing your features, following your jawline where at times his lips replaced his fingers. his lap was comfortable, sleep worthy even. not to mention the extra plush the traditional clothing he had on that helped guide your head to its place.
you also didn't need your eyes to be open to know that any minute now he would say something stupid.
"hey babe?"
"mm?" your eyes still closed.
"did you hear about the italian chef who died?"
you furrowed your brows, you haven't heard that one before.
"what italian chef are you talking about satoru."
"cmon just answer the question." you could practically hear the pout in his voice. which if you didn't listen, would turn to a tantrum. in turn it would turn into satoru proclaiming that you didn't love him anymore, that if you really did you would have just answered. you decided to save yourself the hassle.
"no satoru, i haven't heard about the italian chef who died."
"really? cause he pasta-way."
"..."
finally opening your eyes, you could see small wide pools of blue staring down at you. observing you as if he were a cat watching someone from across the room. except you were lying your head on his lap, and he picked up a strand of your hair and started tickling your face with it.
when he reached your mouth, you blew at your own hair. earning yourself a 'so mean' from your boyfriend. but that didn't stop him from continuing to draw unknown shapes on your face.
he looked handsome, you thought. although he was a teenager he still held his baby face within his features. but you could tell within a few short years the subtle baby fat still residing in his cheeks would soon fade to be replaced with a sharp jawline, maybe a more striking smile. the pink however, that always seemed to dust his face whenever he was with you, you hoped it never went away. and you hoped that the look he gave you with his eyes, you hoped that that stayed as long as you lived.
"why're you lookin' at me like that, pretty? you in love with me or something?"
satoru was such a tease.
"mm, with your money maybe."
satoru knew you were joking, but that didn't stop him from dropping that strand of hair he was playing with and releasing a sharp gasp from his pink and smooth lips (you suspect he was using your chapstick, satoru respectfully disagrees). he laid a hand over his chest, as if he was in pain.
"i knew it! you're just like the rest of them! maybe i should've listened to the old geezers when they told me you were bad news."
that made you laugh, a sound coming from deep within your abdomen, making your body slightly quake. that sound never failed to make a smile appear on satoru's face, so much so that he even smiled with his eyes. his skin crinkled at the edges.
lifting your arms, you placed you hands on his cheeks, pulling him in a little.
"baby, you're the one who's bad news. not me."
satoru hummed, enjoying the way you were slightly squishing his lips together and stroking his face. "the baddest, they just can't get enough of me." that put a smile on your face, satoru was so stupid.
"why did they even summon you here anyway, satoru?"
the question made satoru scoff slightly and roll his eyes. stupid, he could have made that look less hot than it was.
"stupid old farts wanna know how i'm doing at jujutsu high. i'm their dear 'satoru-kun' who's the face of the clan and that i need to act like it. i swear most of them probably have something stuck up their ass so deep they'll probably die with whatever's in there."
he huffed, nuzzling the side of his face with one of your palms. you always calmed him; your presence, your smell. everything about you made his mind calm but at the same time you made his heart race so much that he feared it would jump out of his chest — leaving him to chase after it only to give it to you on the palm of his hand. satoru gojo was the strongest, ever since birth. but he swears you made him the weakest man alive.
satoru pouted when he felt you lift yourself from his lap, ready to whine before he felt you guide his head to yours.
"you don't look so young yourself satoru, you might as well be an old fart."
"hey! i am young and beautiful, thank you very much! the white hair just adds to my charm, it's all natural. guys wish they could be me."
you smiled, leaning down to softly peck his lips.
"that's all they'll ever do then. you're one of a kind. my satoru."
satoru grinned, grabbing onto your forearms as you stared down at him while he stared at you. "all yours."
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s4no · 8 months
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hai congrats on ur milestone ! ! <33 adw for gojo pls 💌💌
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[ a ]: aftercare - what is he like after sex? satoru is absolutely starstruck after sex with you— positively drunk on love (and maybe a little high from the endorphins). he'll bend over backward for you and he'll do it gladly if it means taking care of your needs. you're thirsty? he's on it. you want cuddles? consider it done. you need a bath? he'll lather you up in soap and wash your hair, even go as far as brushing it out and blowing it dry. he treats you like royalty, even if he fucks you like a slut.
[ d ]: dark content - does he partake in anything that would be considered dc? this isn't necessarily dark content but it turns him on when there's a large power imbalance between him and his partner. he wants to cultivate your innocence almost as much as he wants to corrupt it. if that means playing dirty to get what he wants— whether that be lying, manipulation, or coercion— then so be it.
[ w ]: wait - how much does he tease? how long does he make you wait? it's damn near infuriating how often gojo teases you. he loves the quick back and forth of your banter and will never pass up the opportunity to push your buttons or get under your skin. initially, you seethe. you snap at him when he works you up only to deny you at the last second— glare daggers at him as his fingers rub between your folds, purposefully avoiding your clit. but without fail, your resolve crumbles until you force yourself to swallow your pride and give in to his demands.
nsfw alphabet
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ffsg0jo · 19 days
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I loved your Ramadan works with the JJK characters. It's so nice to see another muslimah who writes for JJK :)). I am not sure if you are still actively posting, but would you consider writing a piece with the cast's reaction to the hijab and abaya? JazakAllah!
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jjk characters with a muslim/hijabi reader [gojo edition]
gojo x reader [platonic or romantic it's open to interpretation]
w/c: 955 words
a/n: i got so carried away writing gojo's i realised if i added more characters, it'd be an incredibly long post. so i took them out and i'm gonna post them over the next couple weeks <33 so far i have megumi, nanami, itadori and nobara lmk if you want anymore characters :)) also guys pls feel free to send requests/suggestions :))
also anon you're the sweetest person every thank you so so much you've single handedly given me motivation to keep writing and ive got more works coming out. i hope you're having an amazing day inshaAllah bestie 💗
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Gojo definitely thinks you’re doing a cosplay of some sort. It’s not uncommon in certain parts of Tokyo, so it’s safe to assume so most of the time. Even he’s been mistaken for Kakashi cosplays a lot of the time, with his black get-up and blindfold.
But then he sees you wearing different colour hijabs and abayas, and sometimes even a cute lil jilbabs and it confuses him. Suddenly, the thought occurs to him that maybe you’re not in a 24/7 cosplay, like him, and actually just dress covered head to toe.
As soon as he reaches that epiphany you best believe he pesters you and badgers you for answers. “y/n are you cold? is that why you’re always dressed like that?”
At first, you think it’s funny to give him nonsensical answers because he keeps saying stupid things, but you realise he's being deadly serious. plus, he gets increasingly bothersome, so you eventually get annoyed from all his questioning and just tell him about how you’re a Muslim and observe hijab.
He actually takes it quite seriously and apologises for lowkey making fun of your shitty cosplay in his head. He’s ignorant, not prejudiced, so he defo takes it back and, for once, takes accountability and apologises for his actions. He’s personally not a believer, but he respects it.
Once, you complained about how expensive abayas were becoming and how you just wished someone would just buy you a whole wardrobe of them to all the students, and he happened to overhear.
Literally days later he’s at your door with multiple bags full of abayas and hijabs and all sorts of modest clothing. You’re completely shick shack shook and don’t know what to say. You defo cry and try to hide it with your headscarf.
He barges into your room (after making sure you’re fully covered, he's learnt from that mistake) and spends the next 5 or so hours showcasing each item and telling you where in the world he got it from, the materials and everything.
He has really good taste in colours and styles and knows what would look good on you. You’re literally set for life. Absolutely refuses to let you pay him back. Every single time you mention money, he shuts you down and changes the topic entirely.
In summer he’s shocked you look relatively calm and okay. He’s literally boiling his bum off with a tank top (I’m laughing at imagining Gojo in a white tank top like an immigrant dad lmaoo) and you’re looking as fresh as daisies with everything covered. He asks how you're not melting and you’re waffling to him about airflow and how it’s actually quite breezy, and you’re not wearing anything underneath, so it’s fine, and he stops breathing and short circuits.
He looks at you with his eyes wide, and his sun reddened face goes a shade darker. "You’re not wearing anything underneath?" He takes it the completely wrong way, and you realise what it sounds like, and you’re both a bumbling mess.
It's the first time anyone’s ever seen Gojo that flustered.
Also some quickfire headcanons:
He genuinely thought you slept and showered with your hijab on, so he burst into your room one day and you screamed and he immediately warped somewhere else when he saw you wearing pyjamas (he didn’t see anything above your clothed knees, he panicked and left so quickly plus he was scared to look).
Gets you cute little clips to put on your hijab. He thinks they’re pretty.
Is absolutely devasted you can’t have mochi and some other desserts because they have pork gelatine in them and he always tries to find vegan alternatives.
Purposefully steps on your abaya/dress when it's flowing and he's behind you to annoy you.
Has extra pins pinned onto his uniform for you just in case you need them.
This is a secret he’ll take to his grave, but he actually tried to make you one of his favourite desserts you couldn’t eat (he threatened the bakery for the recipe), but it went so disastrously wrong he gave up and didnt want to face the embarrassment.
I’m talking melted plastic in the oven, small kitchen fire, eyebrows singed, and potential carbon monoxide poisoning bad.
You wore this specific shade of light blue once with a cream khimar, and for some reason, he was absolutely obsessed with that outfit. It wasn't until Nobara pointed out that your outfit matched Gojo's colour scheme did he finally realise why <33
The abaya sizing really confused him and he was so baffled as to what the numbers meant. Wdym size 52 what does that even measure 😭😭
He was faffing about for 2 hours before he realised he could've just googled it, and he felt absolutely stupid about it.
Whenever he sees a bit of your hair accidentally peeking out he covers his eyes and screams at you to "cover yourself woman goddammit". He's so dramatic honestly.
Thinks it’s hilarious seeing you run in your abaya. He thinks its the funniest thing in the world.
Once (he's lying defo more than once) he was zoned out while watching you and his heart started beating faster when he realised how beautiful you are with your long dress blowing in the breeze and your hijab lightly fluttering. You looked ethereal. He didn't know what to think, and he pushed his feelings back down. Deep deep down.
He doesn't need unnecessary feelings complicating things, but for some reason, his heart still yearns for you.
He also makes terrorist jokes about you to you. I will not explain that one, but he 100% does.
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work in any way, shape, or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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ragingbullmode · 13 days
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loaded up SAI for the first time in forever & i still dont know how to do shit lol !!
@tariah23
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gimyung · 11 months
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when they're a chaotic neutral equipped w a god complex and a mouth running 1000kmph to spout the cockiest and most eccentric shit known to man >>
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entp: the real menaces
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