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#that gojo’s baby?
laudthingcat · 1 year
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Hey shawty
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Jesus fucking christ pasi 💀💀
This was a jumpscare cuz i opened the ask on the app
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getousatoruu · 1 month
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BOY MOM GOJO SO CANON
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kenm4vhs · 8 months
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sorry for the noise that’s just me barking
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hqkalon · 7 months
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𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | jjk men
cont. smutty smut ofc (: , petnames, teasing, orgasm denial, edging (in a way idk), g-spot, explicit +17 || pairings : toji, nanami, getou, gojo anc sukuna
an : not proofread LOL, please ignore any writing errors :p
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 his idea of a “playful” time, cock buried inside your aching cunt as he just watched you squirm trying to reposition yourself within his lap. purposely angling his hips into your sweet spot, “quit squirmin’ and watch the movie pretty girl.” he knew it was hard for you to focus on the movie, the only thing you could focus on was him balls deep inside you, “can’t right now.” you mumbled with the back of your hand against your mouth. how did he expect you to focus in a situation like this?
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 “yeah. we need a project manger.” nanami spoke through his head seat, dragging his mouse along the mousepad while right-clicking. “nanamiii!” you whined, straddling him in shared chair with his length filling your walls. “not now baby, i’m working.” his lips brushed against your forehead with an arm around your waist. “please.” the corners of your lips curled downwards. nanami hasn’t shown you any attention for the past week because of his “busy” schedule— repositioning his hips, pressing against your g-spot. “f-fuckk.” you grind down onto him, “better?” he questioned with his eyes never leaving the screen.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 it's a challenge for the both of you. gojo wants to see if he could last longer than you and depending on who lasts the longest will be victorious. though, he cheats his way through the entire time by grinding you onto his lap. making sure you can't squirm away from anything he gives you, "gojo stop cheating." you hum trying to angle your hips differently, "what?" he frown acting innocent as if he hasn't did anything, before thrusting upwards into your plush walls. "shitt." your tummy tighten as his dick dragged along your sensitive walls. "i guess i won, right?" he cheekily grinned.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 / 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 an absolute menace. he repeatedly thrusts up, watching your face twist in pleasure as you jolt with each thrust. not really what you would call "cockwarming", but he completely stops his stokes the second he feel you tighten around his cock. "i said no cumming doll." a hand landed a harsh blow to the fat of you ass, which only makes turns you on more. "i-im not g'na cum." you whined into the crook of his neck, feeling a buzz of pleasure spew through you core as he grinded against your sweet spot— keeping your lower half in place. "that's a good girl." the corners of his lips curled upwards.
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saltoru · 8 months
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being a jujutsu sorcerer and a parent rarely ends well. sorcerers who have to fight for their lives everyday barely have any time and energy even for themselves. adding babies to the picture is hard to imagine.
but gojo was determined to balance his work and personal life when you entered his life, which is why he has a baby girl strapped to his chest as he holds up his hand and crosses his fingers, already to send a special grade curse into his domain.
"daddy~" his baby babbles, cheek squished against his purple uniform.
"yes, baby?" gojo smiles down at his baby and gently sweeps her hair out of her eyes. he pays little to no attention to the curse, who had already spread out their domain and is currently sending wave after wave of attacks, all of which gojo repels with a touch. "this is domain expansion," he gently explains to her, smirking at the curse who is obviously offended that he wasn't taking them seriously. "in a second, you're gonna see daddy's domain."
his baby blinks and shuffles around in the strap, whining a bit as she tries to get comfortable. for all she knows, it's too dark and hot and she misses mommy's smell.
before she knows it, the space around her begins to look like the night sky, and she can't see the curse anymore.
"this is my domain," her daddy says, but she misses seeing the sun. why is it nighttime all of the sudden?
"nooo" she whines as she kicks around. where's the ice cream he promised her earlier? and where is mommy? she doesn't want to go to sleep yet!
"not easily impressed, hm?" he laughs, protectively holding his baby's head against his chest as he closes up his domain after finishing off the curse.
"let's go get ice cream, yeah?" he ruffles her hair and holds up her hands, dancing them up in the air with a huge grin. the sunlight hits her face again and a smile quickly reappears. "you did so good today. did you learn a lot about jujutsu fights today? did'ja enjoy our little adventure together?"
"ice cweam" she smiles, doing a few happy kicks. and that's how the tradition of getting ice cream after missions started for the daddy-daughter pair.
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dilfsfordinner · 6 months
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a/n- this is how i cope with aot ending
pairing- husband gojo x wife!reader
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“Satoru, I’m back!” you called out, feet quickly slipping and kicking your shoes at the front door, arms struggling to keep the 10 grocery bags you had balanced from smashing to the floor.
“‘m sorry it took so long-” shuffling to the kitchen, you continued to talk to the open space, assuming your husband was actually listening, “-traffic was terrible. I didn’t even think it could snow this early.”
Your words trailed off into little mumbles, talking to yourself about every irritant you’d encountered in the grocery store. It was strangely quiet in the house, the usual squeals of laughter and giddy conversations gone from the common routine, the oddity oblivious to you and your focused state.
Leaning back with your hands on your hips, you sighed in relief, muscles relaxing as you took in your good work, cabinets full and refrigerator stocked, the kitchen now completely organized to perfection. Humming contentedly, the previous relief you’d felt turned awry, smile disappearing from your lips.
It was so.. quiet. Too quiet.
“..Toru.?” for the first time in the last 20 minutes, it had finally clicked that something was off. A kiss and hug weren’t given to you at the door, the tv was off, there was no nighttime bath running for Megumi. Everything was so still and silent.
Padding throughout the house, you quickly checked every room, the empty spaces throwing your brain into panic mode, all your worries coming to mind as you looked for your husband and little boy.
After your thorough search, one room remained, the door of your shared bedroom just the slightest bit ajar.
You were about to call for him again when a familiar tuft of white hair caught your eye. Pushing into the room, you took in probably one of the cutest sights you’d ever seen.
There, curled up in bed, fetal position, was your 6’6” husband, his chest slowly rising and falling with the pattern of sleep. Almost laughing at yourself for being so worried, you inched closer to your side of the bed, about to join him under the covers.
A patch of black hair stopped you this time though, little Megumi hidden in the pool of blankets that surrounded him and your lover’s bodies. Stifling an ‘aww’, you fought off the urge to film the two of them, Megumi’s little fingers clutching onto Gojo’s shirt as the two of them snored.
His tiny form was nuzzled into Gojo’s side, chubby cheeks pushed against Satoru’s ribs, drool collecting at the corner of his mouth, staining your man’s new, black sleep shirt, a fact you ignored as you imagined Gojo’s melodramatics certain to occur.
Although they acted like yin and yang, the way Gojo cradled him was so sweet, you really had to fight off the waterworks. His large hands held the little boy securely, long fingers resting on Megumi’s back and head, keeping him close, protecting him, like a real father would for his son.
Leaning down, you brushed Satoru’s hair away from his forehead, leaving a gentle kiss to his porcelain skin, then continuing to do the same to little Megs, the young boy’s breath hitching, dark eyelashes fluttering before his quiet snores started back up, fingers curling even tighter around Gojo’s sweater.
Tip-toeing to the door, you looked back one more time, the two of them nestled perfectly in a sea of blankets. “My sweet boys..” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head with a smile as you turned out of the room, clicking the door shut, leaving your two favorite people to their much needed rest filled bonding time.
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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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slttygeto · 6 months
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do you ever just sit back and think of how absolutely pouty gojo can be? most of the time he’s goofy, he teases, he’s playful—but then he slips and acts like his teenager self and pouts over the smallest things.
there’s this game on his phone—a sheep filter on tiktok and he cannot for the love of god get that damn sheep to slide down and between the two bricks. he sighs and tries again, and then again and again—
“oh man! what the fuck—this is- ugh.” he slams his phone down next to you and you grab it with a quirked eyebrow.
“what’s this?”
“a stupid filter—i swear, whoever made it knows that it’s impossible to get it.”
“I think I got.” you show him the screen and his eyes widen in shock when he sees the “you win!” in green. he grabs his phone from you.
“what?! I’ve been trying since yesterday how did you-“
“I’m lucky,” you say in a sing-song voice and you see your boyfriend slump on the couch. his pretty lips pout and you have to hold back a laugh.
“satoruuuu,” you tease him. “are you pouting?”
“leave me alone.”
“wow, didn’t know my boyfriend was a sore loser, a pouty one too.” your finger traces his lips before planting a kiss on his cheek.
“it’s okay, at least you won over something else.” satoru eyes you weirdly.
“which is?”
“my heart.” you grin at him and when he looks away from you, you are shocked at what you notice.
“are you blushing?!”
“I said leave me alone!”
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woahjo · 3 months
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watching gojo's back in the mirror over your shoulder as he fucks you. watching the way his back muscles flex and curl and shift underneath his skin with every thrust of his hips. the way he rolls into you, skin to skin. n you can see where your thigh makes contact with his waist. the skin stretches and pulls and dips delightfully with the weight of their trembling.
and he's panting above you, sweat dripping from his forehead to your chest where he curls over himself to suck on your tit. gojo's hands hold your thighs up by his waist, fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh.
FUCK!! FUCCCCK WHAT IF I DIED.
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missmatchablossom · 1 month
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summary: you've been helping your neighbor, gojo satoru, out by babysitting megumi. when megumi's catches the flu, gojo relies on you for help.
a.n.: megumi is ~4-5 years old, and is extremely attached to you. a little angsty, mostly fluffy, a sprinkle of smut at the end. cursing, female reader.
~
The first time Megumi got sick, Gojo panicked. Not the frantic, frenzied sort of panic, but the quiet, desperate kind that he did his best to hide. But you noticed it - the way his fingers trembled, the way he barely looked you in the eye, the way he repeatedly ran his hands through his hair.
It was usually you who made the elevator trip up to Gojo’s high-rise loft to babysit Megumi a couple of days a week. That’s why it took you aback to see him at your door at 11:53 at night, looking stricken as he told you Megumi refused to eat all day and started throwing up. 
You followed him to his place immediately, your heart squeezing at the sight of Megumi bundled up in his bed, his little face scrunched up in discomfort.
“Hey sweetie, you’re not feeling so good?” you cooed, kneeling as you placed your cheek against his warm forehead. He shook his head, though his flushed cheeks and labored breathing were enough confirmation that he was sick.
“He’s running a fever. Probably a cold, but you should take him to the ER just in case,” you told Gojo, watching as his shoulders tensed. He was slightly older than you, but still young to have a child; you could imagine how anxious he was feeling about Megumi’s first ER visit.
“I can come with you,” you offered, watching his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
“Please,” he said lowly, looking at you like you were his salvation.
You made quick work changing Megumi out of his sweat-soaked clothes and prepared a small bag of his favorite snacks and toys. You caught a glance at Gojo’s awe-stricken face before you scooped Megumi into your arms and followed Gojo to his car. 
The silence in the car ride was heavy, Gojo’s stress was obvious in the way he gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingertips turned white.
“He’ll be okay. I’ll be here until he is,” you said gently.
His eyes flicked to you for a second before he swallowed roughly. He nodded, murmuring his thanks before you lost him to his thoughts.
Megumi was seen within the hour, the perfect patient as he allowed himself to be examined without a fuss (As long as you held his hand the entire time).
“It’s the stomach flu, pretty common for this time of the year. I’ll send you home with some medications, just be sure to keep him hydrated,” the doctor said.
“Let mom and dad take care of you, alright Megumi? You’ll get better in no time,” she said kindly, patting his head as he nodded sleepily. You looked at Gojo, waiting for him to correct her. But he didn’t.
As soon as she left the room, Gojo sank into the chair, exhaling heavily as he placed his head in his hands. It was strange to see a man so proud and confident to look so…tired. So human.
You stood between his legs, gingerly laying your hand on his shoulder.
“See? Megumi will be just fine,” you said, swiping your thumb back and forth over his skin.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt scared like that,” he admitted, reaching up to cover your hand with his.
“It’s how you know you’re a parent,” you said, moving your hand to cup his cheek.
He finally looked up at you, a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and something else painted in those eyes of his. You watched him wordlessly as he leaned into your touch, his long lashes fanning across his cheeks. 
After a beat, his eyes snapped open, looking downwards as a sleepy Megumi tugged at his pant leg.
“Home now please?” he asked groggily, barely able to keep himself upright.
The two of you laughed as Gojo lifted him into his arms, Megumi settling his head on Gojo’s shoulder. 
“Let’s go home,” he said, wrapping his jacket around Megumi. You could’ve sworn he was looking at you as he said it, though.
~
Sick Megumi was unexpecedly clingy. The first few times you babysat him, you were taken aback by how quiet and independent he was. Most kids his age demanded constant attention, but he was happy to be left alone with his two dogs. You did find out that shadowpuppets was a surefire way to get him to laugh, though. 
You tried getting Megumi to rest in his bedroom, but as soon as the preschooler realized you weren’t right next to him, he’d get up to wander Gojo’s loft, tearfully calling your name until he found you. That's why you decided to settle down on the leather recliner in the living room, Megumi asleep on your chest with a blanket draped over the two of you. You were immersed in your Kindle before the sound of the front door unlocking dragged you back to reality.
Gojos strolled in, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the two of you. His sharp eyes eyes softened as he approached.
“Welcome home. You’re back early,” you greeted quietly, your heartbeat quickening as Gojo lowered himself to a crouching position so he could sneak a look at Megumi’s face.
His eyes flickered to yours, full of emotion you couldn’t quite place. He swept a few strands out of Megumi’s eyes, studying him like he needed to confirm that he was breathing.
“I may or may not have snuck away,” Gojo mused, eyes full of warmth and mischief.
“Careful, or this one will begin picking up some bad habits,” you teased, rubbing Megumi’s back as he stirred.
“Nah, he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes. Besides, there are more important things than work,” he said fondly, and the way his eyes flowed between the two of you while he talked, it felt like he was talking about you too.
You averted your eyes as you blushed, thankful that Megumi chose that moment to wake up. 
His little fists rubbed against his half-closed eyes, looking between you and Gojo like he was wondering if he was dreaming. 
He reached his hands out towards Gojo, who readily scooped him into his arms.
“Alright, I’ll get going then. I already gave him his meds and a bath so he should be okay for the rest of the night,” you said, gathering your things as you sat up.
You leaned forward to kiss Megumi goodbye, only to be stopped by the tears welling up in his eyes and the grip his hand had on your own.
“Don’t go,” he said, almost making you cry with how sad and adorable he was. 
“Not fair Megumi. You don’t even cry when I leave,” Gojo teased, rubbing his back as you laughed.
“Gojo is home now my love, I’ll see you tomorrow though! I’ll already be here by the time you wake up,” you promised, wiping the tears from his soft cheeks.
Megumi sniffed as he shook his head, reaching his arms out towards you. You took him back into your arms, giggling at Gojo’s feigned hurt expression.
“I’m hurt, Megumi,” he said, making a show of wiping fake tears from his face.
“Oh no, look how sad he is Megumi! Don’t you want to spend some time with him?” you said, inching closer to Gojo, whose arms were outstretched.
Megumi looked at him for a second before shaking his head, burying his face in your neck. 
You laughed even harder at Gojo’s expression, unable to find Megumi anything except utterly adorable. 
“Fine, I get it. I would’ve chosen her too,” Gojo said, throwing you off with the affection in his smile. 
“I can stay untill he falls asleep,” you mouthed to Gojo, hoping he could read your lips. He smiled at you before leaning into your space, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
“Or you could stay for dinner. As a friend, not a babysitter,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. 
“I couldn’t impose,” you replied, a bit more breathlessly than you intended.
“Nonsense. I’ve been dying to cook you dinner while you sit prettily in that chair,” Gojo said, seemingly pleased at the blush revisiting your cheeks. 
How could I say no to that?
~
The sun had set long before you were finally able to get Megumi to bed for the night, the moonlight seeping into Gojo’s living room through the enormous windows.
You allowed yourself to sink down onto his couch, the exhaustion from the day wearing on you. Though Megumi’s fever finally broke, he could barely keep his food down today, forcing you to go back and forth bathing him, changing his bedsheets, and cooking different meals to see what he could stomach.
The click of the door being unlocked made you jump, the familiar sight of Gojo making you forget about how tired you were.
He sauntered towards you, looking so enraptured that he didn’t speak a word. 
You froze as you understood why. The usual modest clothes you had on were long forgotten after repeated trips to the bathtub to wash the vomit and sweat off Megumi. The chaos of the day left you in your underclothes -  a thin tank top and cotton shorts - which Gojo seemed to be studying as though he’d never seen them before.
“Welcome home,” you began shyly, sitting up as you attempted to cover yourself with a pillow.
“Sorry about the outfit. Long day,” you continued sheepishly.
Gojo’s eyes finally snapped up to yours, somehow making you feel more naked than ever.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, something unreadable in his tone. 
He changed out of his work attire - taking off his watch, loosening his tie, and stripping off his jacket. Completely normal things to do when you get home. But he captivated your attention, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 
“I can’t believe I’m jealous of a child,” he said to himself as he sat to join you on the couch, looking sinfully handsome with his hair tousled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.
“What do you mean?” you pressed, feeling your self-control begin to slip as you smelled as his cologne wafting towards you.
“Megumi gets to be with you all day. Gets to hug you, hold you, lay his head on your chest. I’m jealous,” he drawled.
You heard it again. That voice in the back of your head begging you to give in to the pull you constantly felt towards Gojo. 
You dared to inch closer, well aware of his gaze roving up and down your body.
“You can do those things,” you said slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. And just like that, he snapped.
He was on you instantly, pinning you to the back of the couch as his lips moved against yours, desperate and demanding. 
You kissed him back with the same fervor, shamelessly roving your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, until you reached his hair. His silvery locks were just as silky as you expected, and you couldn’t help yourself as you gave them a light tug.
The deep, guttural sound that came out of him sent a wave of pleasure throughout your body. You felt your breath leave you as Gojo laid you on your back, positioning himself between your legs.
“I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you,” he murmured against your ear. His lips began moving from your jaw down your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm as he smiled against you.
“I kept myself on a tight leash for Megumi’s sake,” he started, trailing kisses across your shoulders.
“But you in that outfit? Fuck, I knew it was over for me,” he said, pulling back to admire how flushed and breathless he made you.
You grabbed the edge of his collar, tugging his lips to yours to return the favor. You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, his ragged breathing music to your ears.
“Fucking finally,” you said between kisses.
The sound of a thud coming from Megumi’s room caused you both to freeze. You rushed over to check on him, relieved to see he kicked his water bottle off his bed in his sleep. Sighing, you dragged the blanket back over his sleeping form, walking back to where Gojo sat on the couch.
His pupils were blown out, his lips bruised and swollen. 
“Maybe we should continue another time, I don’t wanna wake him up,” you said, surprised at Gojo’s lack of protest. Instead, he tugged you into his lap, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
“Free your schedule next week. Megumi’s gonna spend a day with Uncle Nanami, and I’m taking you out on a date. And we’re gonna end the night in my bedroom, where you can be as loud as you want.”
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awearywritersworld · 2 months
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i can totally imagine gojo getting to the coffee shop you're supposed to meet at early, just so you see him reading a book when you walk in. it'd def be something like eighteenth century women poets
and you're just like ???? "are you trying to impress me or something?"
and ofc this loser is like "yeah, is it working?" with the biggest shit eating grin
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xo-romiiarts · 3 months
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onto a next kinder life..
happy birthday, suguru ♡
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satoruhour · 10 months
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n*sfw thoughts about gojo / male masturbation, fantasising about f!reader, reader listening in, cum eating, mutual attraction ✶
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thinkin’ about roommate!gojo jerking off like a little bitch in heat, getting hard simply from looking at you and hearing your voice. it’s so cute how easily he gets riled up, confidence seeping away once he sees you and he has to mutter out a lame excuse of being behind on an assignment (which he usually doesn’t even care about).
poor satoru has to fight back moans as every movement against his hard-on prompts shivers up his spine, unbuckling his pants impatiently and groaning out lowly once his hand meets his dick. it’s angry and red and leaking from its tip and he wants nothing more than to tap it on your tongue or maybe even your cunt as he watches your face contort into pure pleasure.
gojo who wakes up a few hours later with another boner and thinks you’re still not back from your study session, wrapping his hand around his cock once more and pumping it to full length. he imagines how warm your pussy must feel, hugging his length and squeezing him so good that he trembles at the thought. there’s lewd noises that fill the room, pre-cum helping him easily as there’s pants and moans falling from his mouth.
“f-fuck... just like that. that’s it...” but what he’s not aware of is that you’re listening to his frustrations just outside his door, fingers twitching when you hear your name dropping from his lips and your thighs squeeze together in need, knuckles turning white from how hard you were clutching onto the doorframe.
you make a mental note of how satoru’s moans get more high-pitched and whiny the closer he is to his release, hips bucking into his hand as he keeps a steady pace on his length before he cums with whimpers of your name amongst profanities. his hips are stuttering and shivering and his cum is spurting out, thick and hot onto his stomach and down his hand that you almost want to lunge forward to help him clean it up.
you swallow hard as satoru licks up his cum from his hand, squeezing out the last bits of his seed spilling from his tip — but he’s still hard and you get lightheaded imagining that you’re the one stroking and sucking him off instead, feeling his hands in your hair and his moans through his cock. this isn’t right, you both think, chests heaving from being a door away, yet your desires are unsaid and unfulfilled.
or...?
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part 2 ♡
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he’s staring.
in the corner of your eye lies a silhouette, a blur of black hair and sharp facial features. awfully hard not to notice, when he’s standing so close to you — gazing at you so intently. waiting for you to say something.
(resisting the urge to look at him directly is a struggle.)
a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, something giddy and sweet flooding your veins. he’s just standing there. all while you tap at the keys of your laptop, trying to focus on your work. in vain.
because, inevitably, the rubber band of your patience snaps — and you can do nothing but give in to the temptation. feeling him shift from foot to foot, silent as a mouse. you turn your head.
suguru looks meek.
there he stands, tired eyes trailing over your facial features, before falling down to the floor. something about it makes you want to coo — almost like he’s a little flustered. fidgeting with his hands, wringing his long fingers together, so patiently waiting for your attention to fall on him. 
you swear you see the ghost of a pout slip into the curve of his lips. wearing a comfortable sweater, oversized and fluffy, framed by the obsidian of his hair; cascading down his shoulders like a black river. let loose, free to fall as it please, a signature sign that he’s tired.
and as soon as your eyes meet his, a certain something blossoms within the scope of his iris. peeling at the corners, slipping into the amber and cedar, an emotion you can’t quite place. would it be too tacky to call it love?
a giggle slips from your lips, dancing on the tip of your tongue. it’s soft, a little teasing, but who could blame you when he looks so cute? suguru, with his tall stature and broad shoulders, sharp eyes and intimidating presence, staring meekly in your direction. as if too embarrassed to ask for something, curling into himself.
”hey there,” you exhale, something amused laced into the vowels. ”everything okay?”
he averts his gaze. enamored with the smile on your face, the crinkle of your eyes, the melodic lilt of your sweet laughter. like peach blossoms and duvet covers, too soft for him to handle. far too sweet, the mere sight of you, all cozied up on the couch; legs crossed and laptop balanced on your thigh. 
(suguru wishes he could take its place.)
a tilt of your head beckons him to speak, and he can’t help but notice the remnants of something teasing in the gesture. he feels a little out of his element, almost shy, and it’s discomforting — but he’s just so tired. much too plagued by the need to be close to you.
he can live with a little teasing, if it’s you, only if it’s you. 
”what’re you working on?” he asks, delicate, soft voice flowing from his lips like melted honey. there’s a raspy tilt to it, a little scratchy. you smile, gaze drawn towards the screen in front of you.
”nothing much, just some essay. i’m almost finished.” a low sigh, as you lazily scroll through the text. suguru hums. when you look over at him, the smile on your face grows just a tad softer. ”did you need something?”
suguru stills. blinking drowsily, slow and awfully endearing, a flutter of his black lashes. absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his puffy sleeve. the silence lingers, a contemplation etched onto his features, until he clears his throat — still unable to look at you properly. 
(there’s only one thing he wants. needs. asking for it is just a little bit tough, though.)
patiently waiting, you begin to study his expression. second nature, to tuck his features in between your ribs, smoothe along the contours you’ve come to love so dearly. memorizing every dip and birthmark.
there’s a barely noticeable flush to his cheeks, a crimson smear that starts at his ears and only ever nips along his cheekbones, but it’s enough to let you know that he’s embarrassed. more than enough, seeing as his gaze won’t even land on you, seeing the fatigue beneath his eyes, the crease between his brows. something that sticks to his skin and drags him down. 
he has been a little stressed, lately. more so than usual. and you’ve noticed, of course you have — worriedly waiting for him to approach you, to let you help. winters are never very kind to him. 
he’s gorgeous, though, even like this. especially like this. sleepy, just a little unkempt, in his natural state. bare, somehow. like he just woke up, like the morning sun is kissing up his collarbone and he just made a cute little sleepy noise that you’re going to tease him for over breakfast. like he’s unguarded, at peace, safe in your arms.
it makes your heart soften considerably. crumbling at the corners, a pang of lovesick ache tugging at your fragile heartstrings.
and finally, you speak up. urging him to continue, gently, not wanting to rush him. ”well?” 
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, just a little chapped. his tongue flits out to lick along the dry skin, and he does a little cough under his breath. you’re patient, waiting for him to speak, but it’s tough when all you want is to tug him close.
(you have an idea of what he’s going to ask you, what it is he wants. because you know him — and you want it too.)
”… can,” he starts, tentative. slow, as if he’s trying to swallow the embarrassment, gulp down the nervous flutter of his heartbeat. then he continues. ”i get a hug?”
finally, he looks at you; and your heart ricochets in your chest. amber eyes boring into yours, deep and warm, soft around the edges. kind of shy. 
a sharp intake of breath. you can’t help the grin that crawls up to your lips, and you can’t help the words that spill from them. ”gosh, you’re so cute.”
suguru turns away, with what you’re almost sure is a low grumble — buzzing in his throat, like a dragonfly itching to break out. he really does look meek, a little needy, so cute you’re afraid your lungs might collapse. when a chuckle pushes past your lips, the red tint on his neck and ears only seems to exacerbate. 
with swift movements, you close your laptop, plopping it down on the table in front of you. not wanting to waste any time, a little afraid that he’ll change his mind. ”of course you can,” you assure him, a soft lull of your tongue.
leaning back, you rest your head against a pile of cushiony pillows, melting into the couch beneath you. extending your arms; beckoning him close, into your embrace. the smile you grace him with is a little teasing, but mostly soft, inviting.
and suguru can’t resist it.
he still seems a little flustered, as he crawls along the couch, to take his rightful place in your arms. flopping down on top of you with a huff, like a big dog, cheek squished against your chest — eager to listen to the echo of your heartbeat. steady and soothing, a lullaby to his muddled mind.
a long, satisfied sigh escapes him, muffled into the fabric of your shirt. he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling a little further into your touch. slowly melting.
ah, he’s just too much. try as you might, you don’t fully manage to stifle the coo that laces the tip of your tongue. just admiring him, in the dim lighting of the room, all sleepy and content. that palpable fatigue, slowly dissipating. a soft groan slips from his lips when your hand goes to card through his hair, softly, nails raking over his scalp.
”my big baby,” you murmur, planting a kiss on the top of his head. suguru wants to grumble, protest a bit, but all he can do is soak in the words, the skip of his heartbeat that follows. ”everything okay?”
he nods. groggy, cheek against your soft chest. no longer able to hide his neediness, to muster the strenght, thoroughly soothed by the warmth that seeps from your body. from your veins to his. and he sighs, barely above a whisper. ”jus’ missed you.”
he must notice it, you think — the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat, something erratic in the decisive thumps of blood. a little louder than they should be. 
but if he does, he doesn’t mention it. only shifting a little in your arms, nuzzling further into your chest, relishing in the sensation of your hand in between his messy locks. so cozy. 
”i missed you too,” you echo, unable to fight off the sappy grin on your lips. so much affection in every caress, every soft glance. eager to be let out. ”’m sorry if i’ve been neglecting you.” 
suguru shakes his head — brushing off your guilt. always so willing to put your peace of mind before his. it only weakens you further, thoughts fuzzy with the image of him, the love that clouds your vision. how to properly convey it in words. 
”i’m always so proud of you,” you exhale, a little shaky. so earnest that you falter. a loud mantra of your heartbeat filling your ears, so much fondness stuffed inside your chest. ”working so hard. love you so, so much, honey.”
this time, it’s suguru’s heart that stutters and flails. reduced to a desperate instinct, something intimate and bare. the term of endearment slips off your tongue like it was always meant to be there, like that’s where it belongs, coupled with the soft sensation of your fingers ghosting over his skin. brushing away his bangs to smear a kiss against his forehead.
”i’m never gonna let you go,” you promise, unable to control the affection smeared into your voice. like you’d explode if you didn’t speak it out loud. ”my angel.”
”okay — that’s,” suguru croaks, before you can continue. exasperated, deeply embarrassed. at this point, he’s sure his face must be red, and he’s sure you can see it. despite his attempts to hide away in the crook of your neck. ”that’s enough.”
laughter bubbles up in your throat, sweet like osmanthus and whipped cream. giddy and teasing, in equal measure, sending a jolt of fondness running through his veins. ”are you embarrassed?”
”no,” he scoffs, too quickly. you both know he’s lying. it’s a rare treat, seeing him this flustered — how could you resist the urge to tease him a bit? 
”then why d’you want me to stop?” you grin, searching for his gaze. but suguru refuses to look at you.
”it’s just…” he mumbles, a string of tiny words. gnawing at his bottom lip. ”a little much, don’t you think?”
”i mean it, though.”
suguru groans, and a bout of giggles pushes past your lips. the smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks hurt, an achy kind of joy. yeah — suguru is just far too cute. he’s cute, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous. how could you keep yourself away?
reaching for a strand of his hair, you let it fall between your fingers. smooth and silky, brushing against your skin, soft and familiar. memories bloom from your fingertips, seeping into your subconscious; the first time he let you touch his hair, that content purr in his throat, the time you braided it as the world fell asleep around you. he takes good care of it, always has. attentive and delicate, almost as lovingly as he handles you.
a great surge of affection sprouts in between your ribs, spreading throughout every cell of your body, wholly engulfing you. it’s too much to bear.
a blissful sigh. you tilt your head, softly, a bleeding tenderness to every word you speak. and you do, with a sincerity to your voice that he’s never been able to handle. “is it really so strange if i want to give the love of my life some affection?” 
— and suguru’s resolve crumbles into dust. 
”… you’re,” he tries, a shiver of his weak voice. under normal circumstances, he could think of a suave reply, something to get the upper hand; but today, suguru happens to be very tired, and you seem awfully set on making him melt through the couch. ”— awful. you know that?”
his heart aches, when the bitter words make you giggle. a little sleepy. it makes him want to tuck you into his chest, hide you away inside his ribcage. kiss you breathless.
”so mean,” you pout, entirely fabricated. a heavy amusement lays thick on your tongue. “i’m professing my undying love for you here, y’know?”
”that’s exactly what i mean,” he sighs, unable to repress the slight smile on his lips. a little tug, that says more than his words ever could.
the laughter in your throat lingers, for a bit, until the intimacy of the moment softens you up. something tender and genuine in the depths of your eyes. ”i mean it, though. i’m not just teasing you.” 
your hand goes to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. and then you’re leaning in, to press your lips against his forehead — pulling away with a drawn out mwah, a soft grin, a little boyish. terribly cute. 
”i really do love you,” you profess, a whisper. he believes you. “i love everything about you.”
a moment passes. the soft ticking of the clock fills the space between your words, and the scent of leftover curry and brewed coffee simmers in the faraway kitchen. wafting out into the living room. 
suguru places his hand over yours. a rough palm, always so gentle with you, slipping down to your wrist so he can hoist himself up. 
you blink. 
before you know it, he’s pressed his lips to yours, slow and methodical. tender, tender, tender. always. he sighs into the kiss, content, and your heartbeat quickens — he tastes like honey and rain.
when he pulls away, he’s smiling. a little lovesick.
”i love you too,” he hums, a soft purr that trails down your spine. he delights in the way you finally blush, cheeks warm beneath his heavy hands. ”so, so much.”
all you can do is stare, entirely transfixed. 
then you’re averting your gaze, and he’s stifling a soft bout of laughter, and something warm and wonderful blooms in the nearly non-existent space between you. his cheek finds itself pressed against your chest, again, allowing the soft and rapid thumping of your heartbeat to carry him away.
an anchor for him to hold on to, his lighthouse at the end of a murky ocean. it’s always, always there — that soft mantra of thump, thump, thump.
(he can’t tell you how many times it’s saved him.)
”… you can’t do stuff like that when my guard is down,” you murmur, after a moment. sheepish. ”what if my heart explodes?” 
suguru only chuckles, sleepy and raspy, the same as ever. he turns his head to press a kiss against the fabric of your shirt, right above your heart, a kind of cheeky, soft apology that you know he doesn’t actually mean. 
(he could never feel sorry for telling you how much he loves you; no matter how flustered you get.)
and, at last, suguru thinks the fatigue clinging to his soul may have slipped off entirely. substantially. soothed by your presence, your very being. 
it’s embarrassing, being so very doted on, being so painfully unaccustomed to it. but suguru could never hate it. he could never hate a single thing you do to him, grant him with, from your soft touches and cheeky kisses to the burnt pancakes you worked so hard on. 
he’d rather die than deny you. 
so he has no choice but to bask in it; the feeling of your hands in his hair, nails on his scalp, breath against his skin. the change you’ve brought into his life. bringing with you the fading scent of peach blossoms and chewing gum, sweetness and softness. happy dreams.
yeah, that’s right. he has no choice but to melt into your touch, nuzzle into your chest, fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
no choice at all.
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dilfsfordinner · 10 months
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a/n- this is so sad to think about
summary- megumi is curious about his “mom’s” current situation… ft husband!gojo x pregnant reader
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“Why are you so big?”
A choked cough caught in your throat at the little boy’s comment, his big, bug-like eyes scanning your belly as you fought to hold in a laugh, arm wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer, his little form curled into your side on the couch.
“Your little brother is the reason, I’m afraid,” your voice was soft as you eyed him, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before his fingers latched onto your swollen belly, tiny digits pulling at the fabric of your top to reveal the skin underneath, your stomach now completely bare before him.
Megumi looked as if your reply was the most confusing thing to ever cross his mind, his nose scrunching as he pondered the meaning of your words before his eyes locked on yours again. “But I thought babies came from birds?”
An amused sigh left your lips as you wondered who had told him such a thing, a certain white-haired man coming to mind as if in answer. “Megs, don’t listen to what that idiot has to say,” you hummed, your palm cupping his cheek before brushing his dark locks out of his face.
“And who is this idiot, I wonder?” a familiar voice spoke in your ear, a surprised yelp coming from you at Gojo’s sudden presence. Your surprise quickly turned to anger, however, as you felt a restless kick delivered to your lower abdomen, your hand flying out to slap your husband against the chest, a gasp coming from his lips in faux hurt.
“You’ll scare the baby, Satoru,” came your muttered reply, his legs quickly maneuvering over the back of the couch to land next to you, long arm shooting out to pull you and Megumi into a smushed, side hug. “I love you too,” he smiled as he left a kiss to your cheek, one hand snaking around your torso to cradle your bare belly, the other ruffling the boy’s hair while he was distracted.
“You’re the idiot!” Megumi blurted, fingers slapping Gojo’s hand away as you scoffed, a facetious ‘thanks megs’ slipping from your lips before Gojo hummed gratefully for the boy’s insight. “And why am I the subject of your bullying?” he purred into your ear, your eyes turning to look at him far more eagerly than he anticipated.
“Megumi was wondering where kids come from. You should tell him, Toru,” you said sweetly, a grin starting to pull at your lips as his own fell from his face, the tips of his ears turning red as well as a light blush creeping up his neck. You watched as he looked at the waiting Megumi, his innocent eyes staring into Gojo’s own, waiting for his answer.
A gulp came from your husband, his long fingers rubbing your belly as if for reassurance before he confidently said, “It’s just as I said, Megs, a white bird came into our room at night and gave her your soon-to-be brother. That’s all there is to it.”
Megumi maybe thought his answer to be true, or maybe he didn’t, he didn’t seem to care though, a smile pulling at his cheeks as he watched you struggle to hit Gojo over the head, frustrated huffs coming from you as Satoru himself just grinned, your shared voices eventually twining into comfortable conversation as the little boy snuggled up to your stomach, the soft words the two of you shared pushing him closer and closer to drowsiness, and ultimately, the hands of his afternoon nap.
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ichxraaa · 4 months
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chubby reader who is discouraged cause they’ll never experience a belly bulge meets demise when their boyfriend eavesdrops their call with a friend, worried that maybe that’s something they (the boyfriend) would be into
his cock so far up bullying your cunt as you need to open your mouth to try and breathe while your eyes roll back with the pure raw strength that is fucking you against the bed, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come, but he doesn’t care, all he cares about is the way your ass feels and looks as he thrusts into you and the perfect rhythm of the squelching lascivious sounds as he pistons inside you.
“you shouldn’t worry about stupid shit like that, i will fuck you so deep and good that you will feel me inside you for days”.
why is this toji, and bakugō and gojo in a way more condescending approach, and also porco, cause you know he’s savage, also eren cause he lacks delicacy and of course yaku cause he has no filter and no intention of letting you say something like that ever again.
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