❤️🩹Tough Love (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️🩹
A/N: This is a paid commission I wrote, requested by @anime-lover1234
Content warning: JJK AU with lots of angst, hurt/comfort, short injured teacher/sorcerer reader with lots of boo boos, overprotective!upset!SatoSugu hubbies yall.
Haibara alive in this AU, Nanako and Mimiko are first years here with Yuji Megumi and Nobara and they're your students too. Plus Gojo can heal others in this AU.
AND NEARLY 7K LONG SO THERE!
*Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like and follow instead.
You wanted to impress them.
You wanted to prove your worth in battle.
But things went far off the deep end.
It all began that one sunset evening.
As a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, you were a perfect match for the Grade 1 curse spirit lurking in the forest near an abandoned school rumored to be haunted after closing down due to allegations of murderous cover ups.
As you pulled down the Curtain, the cool winds blew at your hair, swaying along with your black attire, as the sun was setting for you exorcized the curse at last.
You were turning, ready to return to Haibara-kun who was waiting by the car parked out front, when you felt a stir in the air.
You sensed it further deep in the thicket.
Another cursed spirit.
Small … but on the highest level.
Curiosity and cockiness came in, seeping into your being, compulsively drawn towards your next – spontaneous – assignment.
It was a tall skinny humanoid one, blood painting its skin, eating one of the few mangled teen corpses strewn about the splattered wrecked tents of the makeshift campsite.
"Forgive me. I couldn't save you all." You muttered, cursed energy pulsing through your legs. “I'll avenge you by exorcizing that curse.”
Then you chanted quietly.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
With the barrier now placed; this one designed to keep curses in, you moved in.
With its eyes slowly turning to spot you bouncing off the branches, a swift blur dashing through the air, you warped right behind it, readying a blow right to its head.
But going toe to toe with a special grade cursed spirit on your own … you know it's not the same as it was before. But you were willing to take this golden opportunity.
Your fist blazing with cursed energy, ready to strike, even as —
The spike in its cursed energy went through the roof in that split second.
The atmosphere now pricked with that rotten flesh smog coming off its figure.
One that sprouted up to 10 ft tall.
Your cursed punch missed its mark.
Its sharpened hand going right into your side.
It was all a trap.
And you fell for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Your banshee cry startled the birds as you warped out of its grip, blood spraying out from the forced movement, skidding back on shaky limbs, its toxic touch seeping into your gash wound.
Flashes of white exploded in your mind.
The screams of your two mighty husband sorcerers were blowing out your eardrums.
Your vision was spotty but you felt the shift in its cursed presence spring forward through the air, barely dodging its swipe but feeling the tips of its claws scrape your stomach.
Deciding to draw it away, you became the injured bait, running for your life, warping out of its grab, ready to slam a kick down from above —
The sight of Satoru and Suguru bleeding and crumpled before you took its place. A twinge of fear stabbed your nerves — you were socked hard from the side, paralyzing your cranium, warping in your dazed state right before slamming into a tree.
Covering your ears in futility at the intrusive fake voices invading your eardrums, you squeezed your eyes over your unwillingness to see their gutted crimson painted selves.
"Don't leave us here!"
Toru.
"How could you leave us behind!?"
Sugu.
"It's not real. They're not here. They can hold their own. Even against bastards like you." You growled under your breath, keeping your eyes shut. "Don't see. Don't hear. Just feel."
Sniffing the air as cursed energy heightened your nostrils, you followed its putrid stench and nothing else. Trusting your sense of smell by amplifying it to near max — your limit.
Yet the debilitating toxins were slowing you down. You were getting lightheaded as blood trailed down your side and leg from that open wound. The punches and kicks you managed to land on it were barely making a dent on this creep.
This curse was sapping you of your strength, your swiftness, and your stability at an alarming rate. All you could do was dodge and weave. But didn't stop the onslaught of punches, kicks and slashes littering your body.
Those normal – now dead – teens were just fodder to it.
Now that you; a sorcerer, was in its domain, you became its toy. It would kill you. But first, it would take its time and play with you, prolonging its enjoyment as long as possible, wearing you down until you broke …
Down at the nearby rural town, outside a combini, a bespectacled man just stepped out, throwing away the wrappings of his just finished sandwich, turning to where the foul energies were resonating, seeing the barrier among the thicket of trees …
Curled into the ground, gashes, bruises and blood painted your now immobile body, keeping your head to the ground when you suddenly sensed a trusting presence slipping inside the veil, looming above you, followed by the anguished roars of the special grade collapsing.
"Don't let it hit you … its toxins can make you hallucinate … and can mimic voices." You rasped out the warnings, coughing out blood in the process, when his folded work jacket was pressed into your hands then against your crimson dripping side.
"Understood. Keep pressure on that wound. You've lost enough blood already." You choked out a sob of relief at that low rumbling voice.
Kento Nanami.
A fellow Grade 1 sorcerer. A dependable comrade and a close friend. One of incredible proficiency. Extremely precise aim. Evades with clever maneuvers. Reinforced body with cursed energy.
Tying his spotted tie around his fist, he went into Overtime. With his now stained clothed blunted sword in hand, Nanami struck in as many weak spots as he could create on that titan.
The red and black sparks of Black Flash streaking right off him to chop off its enormous arm.
His words were ringing in your ears as he revealed his hand intentionally to raise his power levels.
Slashing weak points in the surrounding pine trees, he follows it off with diving in to cleave off its legs by the knee.
Bringing it face down to ground level just to cleave its head in two horizontally.
Releasing both his binding vows to enact that single blow, Nanami's extension technique Collapse activated, causing those pine trees to come tumbling down to bury it for good measure.
Scooping you up at breakneck speed, you two got clear of the fallen debris, slipped through the decaying barrier.
Neither of you sensed it any more.
Nanami's eyes bore great disappointment down upon you from on high. "And here I thought you were better than to emulate those two's recklessness."
You felt your pride crack, your ego bruise, and your shame boosted over Nanami-san's disapproval when you felt yourself blacking out and your form became limp too quick for his liking.
Nanami's exasperated, panicking face getting all up in yours, his shouting going mute in your ringing ears, occurred before it all went dark.
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Hastily calling Nitta-san to send the proper authorities to handle post cleanup in those woods, Nanami kept pressure on your wound in your stead as he situated you two carefully in the backseat as Haibara stepped on it; his wary eyes peeking in the rearview mirror now and then just so he wouldn't crash the car.
Watching in dismay as the only signs of you still alive was your little shifts of discomfort paired with frail mumbling, calling out for your loves, as fear worked its way to the front of your mind.
Hurriedly calling Shoko immediately after to meet them at the foothills of Mount Mushiro where the screeching halts of the car's tires skidded to an almost collision at the first torii gate.
The backseat was tainted red as Nanami tossed his stained business jacket aside then undid the buttons of your uniform jacket then tugged up your undershirt enough to show your biggest wound, allowing Shoko to lean over and work.
“What a way to spend my night." She huffed, concentrating as pure white light emanated off her hands and over your wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood already on top of fractured broken bones. And hallucinogenic, auditory ailments are still in effect even when curse has been exorcized." Nanami added, brooding from the added severity of the situation.
"What the hell, L/n?” Shoko heaved heavily, shedding sweat. "That curse's toxins are still in her system. It's making it difficult to fully heal her.” She was able to seal up your side wound though. “That will have to do for now. We need to move her."
"I'll join you all once I park the car." Haibara informed them, quickly leaning over from the driver's seat to kiss Nanami.
Nanami's tender gaze came Haibara's way before he got out of the car, carrying you, carefully treading up the steps, Shoko shutting the car door and hurrying behind him, with Haibara driving off and Nanami's bloody business jacket left discarded on the back seat.
Shoko spent the late night hours repairing your damaged self, collapsing over the metal surgical table from the overtime stress, panting from her energy spent. Blood pumped into a vein on your arm via the cannula connected to the drip. And your shallow breathing toppled with a cold sweat only made her push herself further as she squeezed your hand to keep you as grounded as possible and you continued murmuring the guys names in raspy, pleading whispers.
A harried Nanami patted Shoko's forehead with a clean spare rag lying on a counter while Haibara gave her a water bottle to hydrate.
Coming in and out of consciousness, tugged between horrish illusions and bleak reality, your once weakened pulse grew stronger as Shoko's RCT filled you, pushing the toxins out of your system.
So when you finally awoke, faded scars and bruises dotted your skin, front and back, leaving you groaning weakly as you clutched your pounding head. You felt like a truck had run you over.
"About time you woke up. Those fear toxins should be leaving your system now. But it did make healing you quite taxing for me. We can continue your checkup in the afternoon when we've both rested. But I could really use a drink right now.” Shoko apathetically griped as she carefully pulled the IV out of your arm just to place a cotton ball sticking to a bandage over the small leaking prick.
“Sorry about that, Shoko.” Feeling her gloved hand holding your still sore one, you barely squeezed back. "I failed to exorcize that special grade … I'm sorry I made you all overwork because of my screw-up." Your guilt stricken face struck their hearts.
"Nitta-san made sure the bodies were collected … what was left of them. Just count yourself fortunate that the curse was just dragging it out when I arrived. Never underestimate them." Nanami chastised you at the end, his goggles currently off, sternness laced in his eyes.
"Please … don't tell the guys. It's bad enough I couldn't exorcize it by myself. If they find out, they'll never let me live this down. Satoru especially." You weakly pleaded, struggling to sit up but able to get up on your bum as Haibara pulled you up.
"They'll find out sooner or later. And there'll be hell to pay if you choose to omit it from them. I will not partake in that sort of nonsense." Nanami griped, dreading the world flipped on its axis once your husbands found out.
"They'll never want to leave my side after this! They're already dealing with workloads of missions as is! Adding this to their pillars of stressful shit … I just need to be right as rain ASAP."
"No such thing as stress free in our line of work." Shoko bluntly stated.
"Gojo-san and Geto-san would be heartbroken if you kept this from them." Haibara frowned, personally wounded.
"They'd be even more wrecked that this happened and they weren't there to stop it …" Anxious guilt raked your bones.
A hand plopped into your hair, brushing it gingerly. “Your foolish pride as a sorcerer better be worth it if you're prepared for what will come of this endeavor." Nanami's foreboding didn't stop you from embracing him around his waist, pressing your face in his stomach, humming as Haibara gently hugged you from behind, and Shoko smiled nonetheless at the cute scene, especially at Nanami's sternness lessening and patting your head some more.
Still too out of it to walk on your own, you were pushed out in a wheelchair by Haibara, straight back to the dorms, stating he would stay in the room beside yours in case you needed any aid for the night, needing to head out in the morning alongside Nanami.
Carrying your ruined uniform clothes in the recyclable bag Shoko kept them in, you set them aside as you limped about to change into familiar comfier PJs you kept on hand in your old dorm room closet whenever you had to crash at the school grounds.
Pulling your phone out of the zip lock bag it was kept in thanks to Shoko too, you had seen it was still on.
They had been messaging you all night. Notifications of your group chat popping up on your lock screen.
But you just … felt too ashamed and embarrassed to reply back.
So you turned it off.
Without them smushing you between them tonight, there was no comforting warmth keeping you safe and sound.
And the aftermath of those horrific illusions and their copycats speaking during and post battle still lingered in your memory. Tittering between life and death, you were trapped within your worst nightmare yet.
Their disapproving glares.
Their cold voices.
Turning their backs on you as they walked into the foggy embrace of bloodshed against your voiceless cries and your wavering hand fruitlessly reached out into nothingness.
So going back to sleep was the last thing you wanted.
But even so, being in your old single dorm bed, your quiet sobs swarmed the room, your pent up agony painting your pillow in tears, stewing internally over wanting to suffer your follies alone versus wishing more than anything to have Toru and Sugu embracing you to chase all those bad dreams and fears away like they have always done.
Your phone stayed isolated on the small wooden bedside table, plugged in and charging. In silence.
Meanwhile, in a hotel, nestled in the Saitama prefecture that lies above Tokyo…
"Well, the twins are sleeping. Their mission definitely exhausted them both." Suguru softly informed, returning to his partner's side after checking on the girls in the room across from theirs.
A pouty Satoru groaned miserably, splayed out like a moody pancake across the bed, puppy eyes trained on his phone. "Suguru~! She's not answering me~!”
Now splayed out beside him on their shared hotel bed, Suguru ruffled Satoru's poofy hair. "Perhaps she's sleeping."
"She always answers me though! She didn't even send me a cute kitty gif~! The injustice!" Satoru cried, shoving his phone screen right in his best friend's face.
Suguru pushed Satoru's phone aside, pulled out his own from his sweatpants and sent a heart your way. And yet, it was not even read on your end. His forehead creased with worry. "No response for me either … I do hope nothing bad has happened.”
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru's neck, pulling himself snug against him, frowning vividly. "I miss her."
Suguru plopped his cheek atop Satoru's noggin. "So do I. The sooner we finish here with our own cases, the sooner we can have her in our arms again. Until then," Suguru brushed aside Satoru's snowy bangs to smooch his velvety forehead, tenderly grinning. "We'll just have to keep each other company~"
Now that piqued Satoru's intrigue, cheekily giggling as he rolled them over so the raven head could straddle him. “Nothing wrong with that~”
Suguru quickly turned the side table lamp off before engaging in a long, sensual make out with his smirking mate, whisking the night away.
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Your new strategy going forward?
Keep your phone off.
Give off the illusion of still being out in the field, doing assignments far off in the distance.
Stay locked up in your old room except for Shoko's treatments and bathroom breaks.
Until you were all patched up; no visually alarming marks blemishing your skin, you wouldn't let any aside from those that already knew find out.
Not your students.
NOT your men.
By the time you had awoken, Haibara had already left as informed. His sticky note he left on your bedside table with morning greetings and hopes to see you soon followed by a scribbled smiley face did turn your frown upside down.
But it meant you were the only one left in the dorm as your throbbing self painstakingly grabbed some long sleeved apparel outta the closet and changed before putting on some slippers. It was fall now, slowly transitioning to winter, so it was the perfect cover up to be snugly dressed.
You had just gotten outside when you noticed the trio heading to the torii gate exit.
Yuji sniffing the air was what alerted you; skidding to a halt as he was literally across from you on the other side of the long stone pathway, turning to eye you with an unpleasant awkwardness. Running over, his nose dove in closer to get a deep long whiff of you to your jitteriness.
He was your best student in terms of enhancing his senses to their peak with cursed energy. And one you cherished like your own pride and joy. Your pure son.
“L/n-sensei … you're injured. And you look restless. Did something happen?” His eyes became glassy saucers.
Your game plan was on the rocks now. Super human senses at work!
“Hey! The sooner we finish our mission from that blindfolded madman, the sooner I can get to shopping! So move it! No offense, sensei!” Nobara snapped out loud, waiting by the gate, curious what was occurring but impatient to wrap things up for her own reasons.
“Cone on Itadori! We're burning daylight!” Megumi coaxed.
“Alright alright, I'm coming!” Yuji's voice then softened for just you two to hear. “Sensei, whatever’s going on, just … take it easy, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his considerate caring nature like the precious boy he is, smiling thankfully. “I will. Thanks.”
“Welcome back.” That genuine smile of relief and joy of Yuji's almost made you tear up; your swelling up heart touched by his words, doing your best to smile through the soreness as you waved at the boy, saluting back to you, joining his friends, and heading off.
You started uncomfortably limping on your way the moment you students were out of eyesight. Shoko met you halfway, presenting a new wheelchair for you to make traversing more easier. “Sorry but Nanami-kun wanted me to remind you to work on your report about last night. We can head to the faculty office first. Besides, you look ready to topple over.”
You internally groaned at the stingy procedures, expected to recount your near death experience down to the last detail; literally occurring just last night, sending a grateful look her way. “What would I do without you, Shoko?”
“Let's just say I'm better off with you in my life … and I know I'm not the only one.” Apathy gave way to relieving passion in her gaze that you looked away to brush your wet eyes. And you both left it at that as she wheeled you the rest of the way.
Flash forward to some time later …
“I can't believe you going gung ho back there cost me my chance to hit up that sale at my new favorite boutique, you boneheaded idiot!” Nobara bit out.
“Okay okay, I get it! Go easy on my shoulder, Kugisaki!” Yuji yelped in pain at how much she was fussing as she and Megumi helped him walk since he took the brunt of the hits in their latest mission.
“Always ready to put yourself on the line for us … we can handle ourselves, you know, doofus.” Megumi was less harsh, making sure not to hit his shin against Yuji's stabbed one; wrapped in the torn sleeve of Yuji's uniform to stop the bleeding.
Yuji noticed the tender gaze his spiky haired friend gave him, smiling in recognition, chuckling sheepishly. “Protective instincts, I guess.”
“Serves you right, idiot.” Though Nobara and Megumi spoke such mocking words, they were softly spoken, still irked but also grateful they're all still standing.
The moment the trio splurged through the morgue door, spotting your bare back littered with bumps and wide slash marks had them faltering as their short beloved teacher and practically mother figure was in this state.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Their unified exclaims startled Shoko enough to press too hard on a red welt on your forearm, causing your excruciating shout.
You slapped your palms over your mouth, mortified at legit blowing your cover out loud.
Due to the fact that Shoko at the moment got a sudden phone call while examining you.
From THEM.
“Shoko, what was that?” Suguru demanded.
“Sounds like a wounded animal!” Satoru exclaimed.
“Takes one to know one. I have work to get back to. Bye bye~” Shoko's false perky jab reverts back to her usual demeanor after hanging up on them. “I would say stay hidden until everything settles down but I'd be lying. I know 25 mins away means those two lunatics will floor it by the end of the day. I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” Her sympathetic pat on your shoulder did not calm down those anxious belly butterflies.
“I knew you were hurt but … OKASAN WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?” Yuji's own wounds were forgotten as he scrambled over to you, blubbering out waterfalls, throwing off everyone by legit calling you mom out loud but too overwhelmed to notice right away.
You pulled your shirt back down, flushed in shame. “Special grade got the upper hand on me. Nanami-san saved me. Sorry to have you three see me like this. So please … keep this between us? Please?” You literally prayed for it.
“For my favorite sensei, my lips are sealed.” Nobara assured.
“Geto-sensei may be less hysterical … Gojo-sensei not so much … but those two together … oh God.” Megumi paled up at the reality.
“The calm …” Nobara ominously started.
“Before the shit storm.” Megumi drearily ended.
“Uh, while I'm not a big fan of keeping things from Gojo-sensei, if it's what you want, then I'll do it.” Yuji, skeptical but willing to make you happy, blushed pink as you embraced him loosely due to you still not being at full strength yet.
“Thank you.” You weeped.
Megumi, Nobara and even Shoko joined in on that hug.
Meanwhile, back in Saitama, again, nestled outdoors in front of a patisserie.
“That was suss as hell.” Gojo lowly rumbled, sitting under the umbrella covered table on one end, stuffing his last – now smooshed – Maneki Usagi Manju from his hands straight to his mouth.
“We know that shout all too well …” Geto's eyes teemed with cynicism, sitting across from him, sipping Sayama tea in one hand, his phone in the other.
Their mentality synced, restlessness in their bones, their six senses flaring up with red alerts.
Something did happen to you.
Something big.
Something bad.
With their cases long since finished; not surprising, their leisure time was spent sightseeing, tasting the treats the places they visited had to offer. Meaning more sweets for Gojo to savor. However, his gut along with Geto's twisted at the thought of you in trouble.
“Girls, gather your things. We're heading back now.” Geto firmly spoke while speed dialing Ijichi-san to come pick them up.
The twins, sitting at the table beside theirs, stopped taking selfies of themselves with their cutely decorated drinks at his announcement. “Yes, Papa~!”
Throughout the ride back to the school; Ijichi-san fidgeting and sweating bullets at his seniors stewing in silence, panicked thoughts raced through the duo's minds.
The one constant that kept coming up?
Whatever was going on with you …
They were getting to the bottom of it.
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The sky changed from blue and calm to orange and warm.
Getting healed by Shoko before being ushered out to continue healing you, the trio crashed in the common room slash longue when the sight of Nanako and Mimiko waving and smiling as they entered with bags of gifts and snacks to share and give had the trio beaming at the twins safe return.
However, the sight of their teachers coming round the corner into view, radiating such potent agitated auras, sent the trio's hearts racing in dread.
It spelled the first sign of doom.
Gojo zipped up right to them, a wide ass smile on his face, waving with bags of souvenirs on the other arm, cheerfully greeting them all.
“Oh my precious students~! Your esteemed adoring sensei has returned! And I come bearing gifts for you all! As thanks for a job well done! But on the condition that you answer me truthfully! Do you happen to know what our dear Y/n has been up to as of late~?”
“Nope.” Megumi kept a straight face.
“Nada.” Nobara is the same.
“We know nothing.” Yuji as well.
Their calm blunt responses had Geto narrow his eyes at their stoic behavior, the twins shuffling to him in nervousness at the tense situation, and Gojo's fake smile fell, becoming so straight faced. “Hmm … okay then. Hold these, please and thanks.”
Dropping their bagged gifts into their arms, Gojo warping away was the second sign.
Appearing again before them, with a squirming distressed you in his arms, was the final nail in the coffin.
Gojo hastily set you down, firmly grabbed your sweater sleeve covered hand, and tugged that sleeve up to your shoulder. Even with the blindfold on, you could picture his Six Eyes shrinking to dots at the colorful splotches and littering your once unblemished skin.
“What the hell?” Gojo's shaky raw voice had you gulping.
“How did … when did … Y/n explain yourself!” Geto's perturbed face turned to aggravation.
Keeping your head ducked, you could picture their eyes bearing those same cold, disappointing glazes those curse's nightmares forced you to bear. Your state of panic got triggered!
You wince in pain, trying in vain to tug your hand free of Gojo's iron hold. Warping into the morgue, literally sweeping you off your feet, greeting Shoko, then warping out of the morgue all meant your recovery got cut short.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!?" Gojo jested, pulling your back against his front, caging you in his hold, knowing to restrain himself on the pressure, gritting his canines at seeing those same colorful marks on the back of your neck. “You better start talking.”
"You mustn't strain yourself any more, either! You can barely walk as is!" Geto irritatedly griped, wrapping his arms around your other one, leaving you wobbling, therefore needing either of them as counterbalance.
"I'll be fine! I'll get better! I'm innocent!" You babbled desperately, wiggling like a worm, to your utter dismay and their annoyance.
Geto narrowed his eyes, downtrodden. "Have you no shame, Y/n? And you three knew about this, didn't you?!” His eyes flared up with scorn as his face whipped to the trio, having all three flinch back at the irritated sight.
“And after all the trouble I went through to get you all gifts!” Gojo dramatically complained.
“Unnecessary to be honest.” Megumi dryly rebuttal.
“My tastes far exceed yours, anyway.” Nobara throwing shade.
“I'll take them all, thank you very much! I felt like telling you Gojo-sensei, I swear! But L/n-sensei was in pain and I just wanted to help her!” Yuji blabbed.
“Softie.” Mimiko and Nanako teased smugly.
“Yuji~!” Gojo weeped.
“I told them to keep quiet. Shoko and Haibara too. Nanami wanted no part in it. It was all my fault!”
Your pleas only riled them up more. Their eyes returned to you, burning intensely, straight into your soul as they cushioned you between their built bodies just like a mating press.
You gasped as Geto's hand slid under your top, his calloused touch sending anxious tingles through you, feeling that tender scar left on your side, lips trembling and eyes wavering. “Honestly believing you could pull the wool over our eyes, dearest? Ridiculous.” Geto belittled.
Gojo scoffed, suddenly frightening as he towered behind you, alarming everyone besides Geto as he pulled down his blindfold to stare down at you now with those glaring Six Eyes. "Screw that. This isn't panning out well for you, darling. Not at all.”
Your weak whines of protest made the teens cringe with pity. Your short self was literally trapped between giants. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that trying to cut it with a knife would mean getting obliterated. GoGe might as well be a bomb.
But to see tears swell up in your e/c eyes and trail down your cheeks, glistening from the guilt, embarrassment and pain, everyone in that room froze in paling realization.
You were the actual bomb.
And you just got set off.
"DON'T HATE ME!"
Your heartbroken scream had the strongest duo become the weakest. Their grips laxing, their tunnel vision eroding, their resolve dusting, as you pulled away freely, tugging your sleeve back down to cover the damage, sat down on the couch to your buckling knees relief, and cried in your tarnished hands, becoming a mess for them all to see.
"L/n-sensei no!!! Please don't cry!!!" Yuji went into a panicked frenzy, squatting down before you, frazzled as you bowed your head against his jacketed shoulder, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you, sweating bullets at the sight of his once mighty teachers now becoming statues at this turn of events. "None of us hate you! It's okay! Everything's gonna be okay! R–Right guys?!”
"You two are the scum of the Earth, you are! Harassing an injured emotional woman!" Nobara yelled abhorrently in their stunned paled faces, pulling out tissues from her small flowered package she kept in her belt pack along with her cursed tools to offer you. “Here sensei. Take these.”
"I won't blame her if she files for divorce." Megumi gripes under his breath, sitting down beside you, timidly rubbing your back in comforting circles. "L/n-sensei, you need to calm down and rest."
“Geto-sama, do something about this! Mama is a wreck now!” Nanako was willing to put her foot down at this insolence.
“This is depressing.” Mimiko patted your head from behind the couch.
Your desperate need to melt into a puddle and just die from utter disgrace was dashed when you felt Gojo approaching.
His serious blazing eyes spoke for themselves to let him handle you himself, but those kids hesitated letting this slide when the gentle shushing of their usually obnoxious teacher threw them for a loop. Sitting down in the free space on your other side, gently brushing your hair, he leaned in to your ear to confess —
"I'm sorry." You stiffened at his words as they rumbled against your ear. While you were partly miffed and scared due to his attitude, his gentleness returning made you drawn to him all over again, recollecting how much you did miss him — miss them both actually cause OF COURSE YOU DO!!!
Weaving his hand through your hair, he carefully pulled your head to rest against his chest instead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a shaky vulnerability leaking into his voice. “I'm so sorry.” You dare set down your hands to see his eyes as glittery blue glass. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. I hate seeing you cry like this.” His wandering hand had his fingertips weave through yours to squeeze your hand benignly. “Especially when you're all banged up. I just …”
“I'm deeply sorry as well.” The moment Suguru sat down in Megumi's spot, the kids had already stood back and watched with anticipation as his arms gently hugged your waist from behind, kissing your blotchy cheek, regret radiating on his face. “We both shouldn't have approached you so harshly. We were out of line. We just …”
They were both at a loss for words.
Taking a chance, a risk, a leap of faith, you decide to tell them the truth, rather preferring for them to hear it from you than read it from a document.
“The other night … a special grade curse popped up just when I finished my case … I wanted to prove myself … I thought I could take it on … but Nanami saved me in the end. I was … ashamed … anxious … afraid. It showed me … illusions … nightmares … of you both suffering and abandoning me … and I panicked when you both got upset earlier … I just – !”
“You haven't properly rested at all.” Geto delicately gripped your chin and turned your face to see the dark circles under your now red eyes. “Beloved, you of all people should know that keeping your troubles bottled up inside does no one any good! Least of all hiding your pain from us when we can help!”
“You can't always be there for me … I can't keep weighing you down … but I can't hold my own when it really counts … I'm never gonna be at your level … even as a Grade 1 … by myself … I'm not good enough.” Your eyes squeezed shut, deep seated in this emotional turmoil.
“Yes you are!” The sharp conviction Satoru had made your eyes snap back open. It got your attention attentively. “We still think of them … Kuroi … Amanai … what we could have done differently or better … had we not failed them. If anything happened to you … and if we weren't there to stop it … and it already has … then what the hell’s the point in being the strongest when we can't protect those that matter to us the most?!” You shook as his tears hit your nose, rubbing his wet nose against yours with those beautiful blue eyes now red with compassion looking into yours, for even his watery smile is breathtaking. “You've never been weak. Not to any of us. You kept us together through all the shit thrown our way since that day. I don't need Six Eyes to tell me this truth … that you are the most beautiful, genuine, strongest soul I know you are inside and out.”
“You're the very reason I gathered the courage to reach out to everyone when my resolve wavered … when I lost my way … it's difficult to wear a heartfelt smile in this world …” Sugu's voice slipped for a moment, his almond eyes twinkling as his wet cheek nuzzled yours, pressing a timid kiss to the corner of your lips, another breathtaking smile amiss the waterfalls. “But you brought back my smile. You helped me find a better way … I'm no longer alone. So you don't get to be either. Not anymore.”
Unified, their cracked voices caved.
“We can't lose you too.”
You breathed in their natural scents, submerged in their warmth, coveted in their supportive treasuring embrace, their crying faces resting against either side of your neck, just to be as close to you as possible without hurting you more so than that curse and themselves already have.
In this moment of vulnerability, the strongest duo put down their guards just to show you how immensely you've always mattered to them. Your pain, your sadness, your doubts … they're theirs too.
Your hand that was still being held by Satoru weaved down to rub against Suguru's knuckles, drawing him in to lay his hand atop both yours. “I feel the same way.”
“But damn Y/n, you scared us shitless." Gojo sighed exasperated, now chewing and suckling hungrily on your red cheek just to hear your raspy squeals for their amusement.
"Immensely." Geto hummed conspiratory like, chewing and tugging on your other cheek for good measure, your squeaking making them smirk.
“I'm sorry!” You garbled out, mewling.
Suguru popped off your cheek, pecking it several times apologetically. “We're sorry too. We're just relieved that you're alive.”
Satoru popped off your cheek as well, smooching the welt left in his wake. “Still injured though, but I'll finish healing you myself.”
Catharsis finally came as your waterworks were one of relief. “I missed you both so much~!!!”
"Yosh, yosh~” Satoru doting on you, petting your head like the cutie you will always be in their eyes. “We missed our cutie patootie too~” Now that got you to smile at last, shedding tears of joy, as your chortled laughs made them smile as well.
The kids left you three a while ago when the mushiness kicked in. The twins giggled as Megumi summoned his wolf Shinigami for them to ride on so they could stop pestering him, right before he buried his bashfully blushing face in the crook of Yuji's neck who carried him and Nobara with ease from her own pestering, heading off to do whatever.
Now drained from the mental and emotional trip you went through, all you wanted now was sleep.
And to be honest?
So did the guys.
Your old dorm bed would make do just this once. For old times sake. Warping you three there was easier on an already wiped Gojo, anyway.
Their uniforms, boots, and socks along with your slippers littered the floor.
The AC hummed in the background.
And the drawls of moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Tepid flustered gasps left your parted lips as Satoru sensually trailed his smooth sly hand across every inch of your backside under your top, healing you from that point as you relaxed.
You smothered your face in Satoru's snug black tee covered pecs as he ran his fingers through your hair, languidly brushing it to further soothe you, pecking your forehead. “It wasn't the same without you.”
Suguru carefully splayed on top of you from behind, warmth seeping through his snug white tee and into your cloth covered back, heatedly breathing down your flushed nape as his veiny giant hand caressed your bare tummy underneath your top as well as stroking your thighs with his other hand. “Having you to cuddle again, all snug in between us, truly feels like heaven.”
“No angel to sleep with … oh how did we cope without you~?" Satoru ranted quietly as he could for your sleepy sake.
Suguru gave him a sly smirk. “Satoru~”
Satoru chuckled, ruffling Suguru's loosely free hair, before resting that hand on Suguru's lower back. “Okay, it wasn't bad at all. Even so… can I please just keep us in this moment and never let each other go ever again?” Satoru gently begged.
“As long as I can get some shut eye. And new uniform garbs.” Your cheek nuzzled his chest, consenting in a yawn.
“Deal.” With Six Eyes now switched off, Satoru became heavy-eyed at the sight of his two favorite people in bed with him. Back together again.
“No more bad thoughts for us tonight.” Suguru languorously rumbled in your ear.
“Plus those nightmares will get a kick in the balls if they come back.” Satoru grumbled drowsily.
“If it's a curse, sure. Dreams, not so much.” You mumbled softly.
Satoru could feel your body start to reach the end of its recovery from his healing touch, trailing his hand from your back to cover your hand that rested on the front of his shirt where his heart lay.
Suguru's own hand traversed, resting atop Satoru's, all three splayed on his chest in the same exact spot.
You sagged as you felt the weight of all that battle damage lift right off you, for all the pain got replaced with fuzzy tingling warmth.
Shivering with delight, you felt those two curling in on you from both sides, their legs tangling with yours, as you all smushed in the middle, with Suguru's face against your shoulder and Satoru's in your hair.
“Toru … Sugu … I love you guys.”
Satoru breathed in your scent, smiling drowsily. “We love you too … so damn much.”
"Truly. We'd be lost forever if we never knew you.” Suguru mused languidly.
A tiny smile formed as you succumbed to your long awaited dreamland. “I … feel … the same.”
And the kiddies, poking their heads through the crack in the slide doorway, eyed you snug between those two in just their tees and boxers, your entangled limbed cocoon, the bed comforter halfway touching the floor, as gentle snores and breathing made up your guys personal symphony.
Taking some snapshots for potential blackmail material; basically on Nobara and Megumi's part, they left you three to rest.
Of course, knowing you three, you'll stay in bed all day tomorrow. Whether to sleep, talk, cuddle, make out, do the devil's tango — nah it's all of the above! Meaning no classes.
The weekend is free.
To unwind and reflect.
Your old room feels more homely now that they're there with you.
That night, you’re gifted with cathartic, stress relieving dreams where those two awaited you with smothering embraces and enriching laughter.
Through their tough, imposing, and fierce exteriors …
There lay the true blessings that are their empathy, passion and humanity.
Your chaotically lovestruck sorcerers.
And you, their heaven sent wife, will feel their love till the very end.
And even beyond.
For Infinity.
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The House Always Wins
Part 2 of this fic
Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader
Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)
Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, (lowkey) Sugar Daddy Crocodile, Crocodile is smug and petty
(edit: realized the original artwork was fanart and I couldn't find the artist's @ to credit them, so I changed it)
Crocodile doesn’t know what to expect when he wanders onto the casino floor of Rain Dinners in search of you. Slot machines chime, playing a catchy little tune with each pull of the lever. Dealers grin and offer words of encouragement, coaxing big-eyed fools into another game with the sweet promise of lady luck’s favor.
You don’t usually partake in gambling, not keen on the idea of betting away your berries when you know it’s all rigged—and why would you even need to? You never ask for anything, but Crocodile provides. Spoils you even.
He enjoys watching the way your eyes get all big, stunned by the diamond necklace he places around your neck, or the soft gasp that passes your lips when he gifts silk charmeuse and chiffon dresses, designed, and tailored just for you.
Crocodile continues to seek you out, his sharp eyes flitting between the slot machines and card tables. He ignores the curious and lingering looks targeted at him—the smartly dressed patrons who vie for his attention as he continues to search—and then he hears it.
Your laugh, loud and beautiful—music to his fucking ears. He turns.
Crocodile doesn’t expect to see you at the bar, perched on a stool, leaning into a man he doesn’t recognize. Your hand is on his slender arm, your lips pulled into a pretty smile, and laughter escapes again—so lovely and genuine and for someone else.
The man grins at you sheepishly, transfixed on your mouth. It’s so blatant—barely contained, the way he’s staring at you with a mix of adoration and lust.
You must feel Crocodile’s eyes on you because you glance over your shoulder suddenly. Your smile widens, and you exchange a quick word with the mysterious man before hopping down from your seat.
Crocodile is silent as you approach, stone-faced. You grab his arm with both hands and tilt your head towards the man, all while smiling up at him.
“I want you to meet my friend,” you say excitedly, steering him towards the bar.
Crocodile doesn’t catch the name that rolls off your tongue—he can’t seem to hear anything over the sudden ringing in his ears, so sharp it drowns out the sounds of the jingling slot machines and triumphant cheers of those foolish enough to think they’re the winners.
The fond smile that plays on the mystery man’s lip never falls, but Crocodile notices the sudden unease as the man’s eyes land on him. The imposing height, the cold, almost irritated expression he comfortably wears—the golden hook that glints under the blinding casino lights. It’s enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone smart enough to value their life.
And the man is a small thing—average in every sense of the word, Crocodile thinks. The plain clothes, the nervous, uncertain words that stumble from his mouth as he tries to introduce himself. Crocodile doesn’t feign interest—he barely even acknowledges your friend, and that only serves to add to his anxiety.
If it wasn’t for the pitiful look you shoot him, Crocodile would laugh at just how pathetic this man is.
“We both grew up in Coombe,” you explain, glancing back at the mystery man. “I never thought you’d leave the North Blue.”
He must take your surprise as a compliment because he gives you another bashful smile.
“I didn’t either. Guess I finally figured if you could do it, so could I,” he chuckles softly. “Imagine my shock when I saw you here, of all places.”
“Small world,” Crocodile chimes in dryly, drawing your friend’s attention once more.
Crocodile places a hand on your hip, drawing you a little closer to him.“She never mentions much about her home in the North Blue.”
And she never mentioned you. The insult is unspoken, so subtle that he thinks even you don’t catch it.
But it’s also true. You rarely spoke about the North Blue—of the life you had before you entered the Grand Line and ended up in Alabasta. You never mused over an island you once called home, or a lovesick, hairbrained boy you left on it, and Crocodile doesn’t pry. He isn’t particularly interested in knowing, truth be told. He only cares about the life you have now, with him.
The man goes on an excited tirade about how beautiful Coombe is this time of year, about how you used to love the new bloom after winter finally passed, and all the fun you both had in your youth. He can’t help but reminisce, tries to connect with you in the only way he’s able.
“You should visit when you can. Uh—you both should.”
You pretend to consider it, and Crocodile gives little more than an unaffected grunt.
You inquire how long he’ll be staying and recommend shops and restaurants he must visit before leaving. He shamelessly seeks more of your company—your attention—and asks if you could possibly give him a tour.
You promise to check your schedule and follow up, and he beams as if he’s won an invaluable prize. Crocodile’s irritation grows—twists and festers the longer he stands by your side, little more than an onlooker. His frustration isn’t directed at you—you’ve always been friendly, offering a smile where he would surely offer a sneer, but it doesn’t stop his grip from tightening on your hip.
You notice, finally excusing yourself. The man gives you both a soft goodbye, one that Crocodile ignores completely as he whisks you away, and he can’t help the way his lips pull into a smug grin at the quick glimpse of the dejected look on his face. It must hurt him to see you walk away in the arms of another—to know the golden opportunity he thought the world had provided him never existed at all.
“You didn’t like him.”
It’s the first thing you say when you enter Crocodile’s private suite, disappointment dripping in your voice. You weren’t foolish enough to think he would be thrilled, but you thought Crocodile would at least be amicable.
He shrugs his coat off, placing it on the coat hanger near the door. “He was shameless.”
Your brows furrow, your lips pull into a slight frown…You don’t know? It takes Crocodile by surprise; surely you must. The man is far too obvious; his intentions are impossible to mask.
“He would have taken you right there on the bar if you had let him,” Crocodile scoffs.
You blink, dumbfounded.
“Gage?”
So that’s his name.
Your voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak, taken aback by the sudden accusation. “He doesn’t want to fuck me.”
Crocodile gives a mirthless laugh. You’re so sweet. So naïve. Always offering others the benefit of the doubt.
Crocodile recognized the hunger in his eyes—the longing. He suspects this friend of yours has harped on you for a long time, never quite brave enough to take the chance.
Not even now. By some miracle, he survived the Grand Line, and he still can’t brave his own futile emotions. Crocodile isn’t sure whether to laugh at how spineless the man is or burn with anger at how he even thinks he has any chance of having you.
The dark, ravenous part of him takes high offense.
Crocodile comes up behind you and dwarfs you with his body as his decorated hand cradles your jaw. “Course he does. Look at you.”
He tilts your head, forces you to face the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. You try to focus on your own reflection, but you can’t help but watch Crocodile when he dips down, pressing a tender kiss to your neck, all while his half-lidded eyes hold your gaze.
“Maybe I should invite him to our room so he can watch me fuck you,” he murmurs against your skin.
You shiver, nearly stumble out of his grasp as his lips trail higher.
“Don’t be cruel...”
Cruel? His offer would be courteous. It would be the closest your lovestruck friend would ever get to your naked form. The only way he would ever know what you sound and look like at the height of your pleasure—how perfect you are, stuffed and babbling through your orgasm.
The cruel thing would be what he truly wants to do—to use his devil fruit powers to turn the man into a withering corpse, forgotten in the endless sand dunes.
“Would you rather he joined?” Crocodile inquiries plainly.
He attempts to come off unaffected…curious, but the wicked voice in the back of his mind nags at him, hisses about feelings that could have been, and still may be.
The man matches your gentle nature, and is somewhat competent, at least to have made it this far from the North Blue. He’s the kind of man who would kneel at your feet if you asked, worship you as if it were his sole purpose—he’d give you a typical life, picturesque in its simplicity, and you would be content.
The thought makes something vicious twist in his gut. It makes time stand still as Crocodile awaits your answer.
“No.” You shake your head softly, meeting his cold eyes in the mirror. “I’ve never thought about him like…that.”
Of course not. What would you want with a sniveling worm? How could you go back to mediocrity after everything that’s been offered to you? The attention of a warlord of the sea—the savior of Alabasta. How could anyone else ever compare?
It’s pathetic how the gluttonous beast inside of Crocodile settles and hums contentedly, knowing that you only want him.
And maybe this is your power he couldn’t recognize before, why he was so unnerved in the beginning—this ability to effortlessly turn sensible men foolish. Even him.
“Only want you.” You turn, your soft eyes trained on him. “Always want you.”
Crocodile captures your lips as the words escape, and you melt into him—mold your body into his until he is all you sense. The heady scent of his sweet cigars mixes with hints of patchouli and cedar—his cologne—it lingers on his fitted clothes, drawing you deeper into his searing kiss.
You feel the bend of his golden hook press into the curve of your back, forcing you to curl into him as he parts your lips with his tongue. You’re caught in a pleasant haze, lightheaded, while Crocodile kisses you like he’s claiming your mouth, making sure that your lips never forget the feel and taste of him—that they never desire another’s.
Crocodile lifts you from the ground effortlessly with his ringed hand, still kissing you hungrily as he shifts blindly through his suite, knowing the layout well enough to stumble into his lavish bedroom. He parts from you with a low groan.
“Lay down,” he orders against your lips, and you comply, sinking into the soft mattress while he looms over you.
The ache you feel in your core blossoms—hurts so good from how desperately you want him—to be wrecked and teary-eyed and a mess for him.
You even go as far as to whine when you notice Crocodile isn’t working to free the fierce erection that strains his dress pants, eager to be lost in your warmth.
“None of that,” Crocodile tuts coyly, lowering to his knees near the foot of the bed. His large hand skims up the length of your thigh, pushing up your dress until it is bunched around your waist, and he can see the evidence of your arousal staining your thin lingerie—another gift.
That creature inside of him purrs gleefully, proud of how well he turns you into a spectacle—a gift of his own to admire and unravel again and again.
Crocodile tugs your panties down your legs, tossing it aside carelessly as his hooded eyes catch on your bare pussy, already slick and ready for him. A deep, guttural noise catches in his throat as you part your legs—eagerly welcome him where he belongs.
“I bet he wonders what you taste like…” Crocodile muses, leaning into your aching slit. A soft gasp passes your lips when you feel the heat of his mouth on your needy cunt, tending to the ache his salacious words and desperate kisses created.
There are rare moments when Crocodile takes you apart slowly, his movements languid and measured, bringing you to the height of your pleasure at an agonizing pace, only to rip it away just when you begin to tip over the edge. And then he continues the process again and again. He leaves you delirious on days like that, wasting the hours away with your body—and perhaps today would be a day such as that if he didn’t feel he had something to prove.
If the desire to plague your every thought didn’t control him like a cruel master.
Your soft whimpers turn to shameless, needy moans, light and airy but loud enough to satisfy the wicked parts of him.
“S’good,” you whine drunkenly, your hips bucking instinctively when Crocodile’s lips latch onto your neglected clit. Your fingers thread into his long hair, pull him even closer, and he groans—it makes you arch painfully as the feel of it cascades through your body and tickles your aching nub.
Each swipe of his talented tongue pushes you closer, making the heat that pools in your stomach metastasize until you’re chanting his name, so close and ready to reward him.
He squeezes your clit with his mouth, sucks your aching bud, and you’re gone—shoved over the edge as pure hot pleasure rips through you, flows from between your legs, and Crocodile laps up your sweetness like a starved man.
You glance down at him through your lashes, eyes heavy, body slowly recovering. Crocodile pulls away from your pretty pussy with a sigh, as if he’s sad to part, and the idea alone makes your core ache with newfound need.
“Always so sweet for me.”
Your release smears his chin. It makes him look depraved and delicious. If you had the energy for it, you’d lift from your spot on the bed and kiss him. Feel the taste of yourself on his tongue, but all you can do is watch him with tired eyes as he rids himself of his clothes, tosses his lavish vest and dress shirt aside haphazardly.
His pants are the last thing to go, and you watched as if caught in a spell, buzzing with anticipation as he palms his hard dick. It’s so pretty, with the tip blushing and spilling precum that glides onto his thick fingers. Crocodile smirks, amused by the enchanted look in your eyes.
“This what you want, darling?” he asks, giving his dick a rough tug that warrants a delighted hiss. You nod—nearly sob—as you continue to watch Crocodile’s hand rub up and down the length of his lovely cock. You feel so empty—the desire to be filled in a way only he’s capable of taking precedence in your mind.
“Tell me,” Crocodile encourages as he shifts to the bed, his large frame casting you in shadows as he hovers over you. That smug smile still plays at his lips and only grows crueler as he grinds his hard length against your needy cunt.
“N-need you. Fuck—need you so—so bad. Baby please—”
The request sounds pathetic, even to your own ears, but it must be exactly what Crocodile wants to hear because he sinks into you the second the term of endearment passes your lips.
A deep grunt rips from his throat and tickles your ear pleasantly as Crocodile drags his fat cock deeper into you. You’re so warm and wet and snug, your velvety walls hugging him like this is where he belongs—where he should always be.
And he’ll admit, there’s no better place than here, between your legs. No better feeling in the whole fucking world—not even the sweet giddiness that builds inside of him each passing day as the fall of the Alabasta Kingdom draws closer. Having you writhing beneath him, breathless and lovely, is incomparable—a sensation he never tires of.
“Always take me so—mmm…well,” Crocodile rasps, transfixed on how your sloppy cunt swallows him over and over and over again. It makes him fuck you harder; drive even deeper. “This pussy was made for me. You were made for me.”
And he thinks perhaps it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. Uncertainty still stirs within him—dread lingers in the corner of his mind, silent and waiting, because you complicate everything. You’re the only person who can placate the ravenous creature within him, feeding its insatiable appetite without it ever growing incurious. It wants everything you have to offer—can’t conceive of feeding from anyone who isn’t you. Not anymore.
Never.
Crocodile pushes your thighs close to your chest, drives his dick even deeper as he continues to pound into you. The sound of his powerful thrusts and your tortured moans is a beautiful symphony, lovelier than the melodic sounds of the stirring sand at dawn.
You have that lost, blissed-out look in your eyes as you blink up at him, words completely evading you as he uses you.
How could your foolish friend ever even dream of having you like this? Think he could possibly do to you what Crocodile has done?
Crocodile feels equally as hopeless as you—is incapable of thinking clearly because a confession he knows he should swallow pours from his lips without warning.
“I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” he growls, digging the tip of his hook into the mattress, inches away from your head.
You should be…shocked. Unnerved by such a confession. Crocodile doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he never mutters his murderous intent. He hides behind practiced indifference; let’s others paint a glorious picture of him, never revealing his true nature. You attempt to feign shock for a split second, but you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and goes mad at his declaration—some depraved, feral part of you stirring to life.
And the knowledge that a part of you likes this fucked up part of him must awaken something in him, because his thrusts grow brutal, his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to. Crocodile hits deeper, the head of his throbbing dick brushing against that sweet, spongey spot inside of you, and you’re gone before you can even warn him.
You choke out something that sounds like it could be his name, tears trickling down your cheeks as you come so violently that your breath stutters. You shake through your orgasm, squirm beneath Crocodile while he fucks you through it—watching you come apart with wicked fascination and unbridled lust.
He loves how he wrecks you—how you hold onto him for dear life, as if he might slip away.
He’s ruined you, just like you’ve ruined him.
The thought alone is the final push he needs, make his dick throb violently as he explodes inside of you and fills you up the way he knows you crave—the way your perfect pussy deserves. The squelch of his seed mixing with your sweetness is enough to drive him mad. Makes him want to fuck another load into you.
Maybe in a bit, he considers as he rocks his hips sluggishly, riding out the sweet aftershock of his powerful orgasm.
You’re little more than a quivering mess under him. Your eyes are closed, your breathing is ragged…so so beautiful, and Crocodile doesn’t frighten at the tender feeling that blossoms in his chest—a sudden warmth that takes him by surprise yet seems to make all the sense in the world as he stares down at you, all while a pleasant thought crosses his twisted mind.
What’s the harm?
Why shouldn’t I revel in what’s mine?
divider credit @/cafekitsune
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