｡.*｡☆ﾟ 🕰️ 08.45 P.m

Rich boy gojo latest obsession: Spider woman aka you

Part 2

After four days away from school, you finally returned, feeling somewhat refreshed despite the exhaustion that had pushed you to your limit. You knew you’d probably missed a lot, but at least you felt ready to face the chaos again—or so you thought.

Your optimism vanished the second you discovered your partner for the mechanical engineering project was none other than Gojo Satoru. The Gojo Satoru.

It didn’t take him long to track you down—practically the minute you stepped foot in school, he was at your side. His signature white hair and ridiculously expensive sunglasses caught everyone’s attention as he launched into a stream of words, rambling about everything and nothing.

“Hey! Y/N, right? Wow, four days, huh? You okay? I mean, not that I was, like, worried or anything—I mean, I totally was, but—anyway, the project! I’ve been thinking about it. We can divide it up, yeah? Or maybe we can do it together? I’m great at mechanics, you know. Well, actually, I’m great at everything, but mechanics especially—”

You stared at him, blinking slowly, as he rattled on and on. The assignment wasn’t even hard—just split the work, do your part, and be done with it. But he seemed determined to complicate things with his non stop chatter.

In the background, his friends were clearly enjoying the spectacle. Shoko and Geto were standing a few feet back, both laughing quietly as they watched their usually unshakable friend flounder in front of you.

You weren’t sure if Gojo was flustered or if this was just his natural state of being. He was all energy and charm—like a whirlwind of confidence with no filter. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was genuinely nervous, but that didn’t seem like his style. Still, the longer he talked, the more you couldn’t help but wonder if he really was as airheaded as he seemed.

You prayed he hadn’t pieced together anything yet. There was no way he’d recognize you as Spider-Woman—you’d been so careful. Surely, someone like him—all face and no brain—wouldn’t notice the connection, right?

You sighed inwardly. Dumb and pretty was a dangerous comb. And Gojo Satoru? He was a walking embodiment of both.

“Just do the part you want, and I’ll do the rest.”

Your voice was calm, straightforward, and devoid of any room for argument. Gojo stopped mid-ramble, stunned into silence. For the first time since you’d known him—well, “known” was a stretch since he’d never acknowledged you before this moment—he wasn’t talking.

He just… stared.

And then, without any regard for personal space, he leaned closer, his bright blue eyes studying you intently.

“Wow,” he said softly, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is the first time I’ve heard you talk. You’ve got a pretty deep voice.”

His comment wasn’t mocking; it sounded more like a genuine observation, tinged with curiosity. But his closeness made you shift uncomfortably, and the sound of his friends laughing grew louder.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’d just gotten back to school, and now you had to deal with this.

“Can we focus on the project?” you asked flatly, trying to redirect the conversation.

But Gojo, still grinning like he’d uncovered the eighth wonder of the world, ignored your plea entirely. “Your voice is kinda cool, you know that? Like… mysterious. Are you mysterious? Is there a secret life I don’t know about? Wait—” He gasped dramatically, his hands flying to his mouth. “Are you a spy?!”

You stared at him, deadpan.

“Just pick your part,” you said again, turning your attention to your notebook.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do the first two pages and make a 3D model. That’s okay?” Gojo straightened up to his full height, which only made him seem even more ridiculously tall. You hadn’t really noticed before, but now, standing so close to him, his towering frame was impossible to ignore.

“Cool. I’ll do the rest,” you replied simply, not bothering to look back as you turned and walked past him.

He watched as you moved away, his usual grin faltering into something softer—almost thoughtful.

“Whoa,” Geto said, leaning over with a smirk as he watched Gojo’s expression. “Did you just… listen to someone? Like, without arguing? Who even are you?”

“Shut up,” Gojo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shoko snorted, flicking a fry at him. “You’ve got it bad, Satoru.”

“I don’t have anything,” he shot back, though his ears burned red.

As you disappeared down the hallway, he found himself standing there longer than he probably should have, replaying the moment in his head. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your voice had sounded—calm, composed, and completely unbothered by him.

And for someone like Gojo Satoru, who thrived on attention and chaos, it was frustratingly intriguing.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

The idea lingered in your mind all day, no matter how much you tried to focus on classes. Shouldn’t Spider-Woman have a way for people to reach out? Not everyone you saved could shout their thanks in the middle of a rescue, and some people might have real concerns or valuable tips to share.

The thought nagged at you, feeling almost irresponsible to ignore. After all, you were doing this to help people. Giving them a way to connect with you seemed like the logical next step.

So, during your break between classes, you decided to act on it.

You pulled out your laptop, leaned back in your seat, and quickly created an email account. Simple, straightforward, and easy to remember:

spider-woman@gmail.com

As you stared at the blank inbox, a wave of uncertainty hit you. Would this even work? What if people used it to spam you or waste your time? Or worse—what if it somehow compromised your identity?

Still, you reasoned, no one would be able to trace it back to you as long as you were careful. Besides, you’d set strict boundaries. You wouldn’t answer every single email, only the ones that truly mattered.

Satisfied with your decision, you logged out and closed the laptop. The rest of the day felt oddly lighter, as if you’d checked something important off your to-do list.

That night, after school, you’d made the decision to public. You handed out flyers across the city, hoping to give people a direct way to reach Spider-Woman if they needed help or just wanted to thank you. You didn’t expect much, but soon enough, the emails started pouring in.

At first, it was the usual garbage—memes, advertisements, strange videos, phone numbers, and links to bizarre websites that made you raise an eyebrow. You could barely keep up with the flood of emails, your inbox filling faster than you could sort through them. Some were from media outlets—sensational headlines, twisting your actions into something unrecognizable. Others just wanted to use your identity for their own clicks.

But then, amidst the junk, there were those emails that made it all feel worth it.

Messages of gratitude from people you’d saved. Simple, heartfelt thank-yous that made the overwhelming mess of everything feel just a little more meaningful.

You smiled as you read through some of them. It reminded you why you were doing this. The people who truly needed you, the ones who didn’t treat you like a headline or an urban legend—those were the ones you wanted to hear from.

And then, as you scrolled down the list of incoming emails, one stood out.

It was from:

Gojo Satoru

Your eyes widened for a moment before you clicked on the message. There was no way. You quickly opened it, and the first thing that hit you was the absurdity of it. The email wasn’t formal, nor was it filled with the usual 'thank you' or ‘help me’ types of questions.

It read:

"Heyyyyyyy Spider-Woman, Satoru here. You know the guy with the white hair. You saved me again. You should really stop doing that, I might get too used to it. Also, can you send me your number? I have some questions about your secret life... I mean, if you're not too busy saving the world or whatever. Also, if you need help with anything (I’m pretty good at everything), just let me know. P.S. I don't know why you thought you could hide from me. Don’t make me come find youuuuu😉"

You stared at the screen for a few seconds, blinking in disbelief. The audacity was almost impressive. Not only that, but his message was ridiculous.

You closed the email without replying. What could you even say? The man was already a walking disaster, and it was clear he had zero understanding of personal boundaries. Besides, you had schoolwork to catch up on. You quickly switched to your homework, diving into it to distract yourself from the email and the mess of your thoughts.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

Gojo knew the possibility of you replying was zero, but he still felt a sense of disappointment. He was special, important, and couldn’t quite understand why you would ignore him like this. He had stopped trying to get himself into trouble on purpose, but it was hard. He still wanted to apologize to you, but how could he make you meet him?

He had to focus on the project for now.

Y/N...

apparently, a man could have two crushes. at school he liked Y/N. and outside it's spider-woman.

Gojo wasn’t even sure if it was a crush it could just be admiration, but there was something about you. You were so cool, so unbothered. It made him want to try harder, get your attention. The other girls hadn’t figured out the formula or equation on how to get his attention: Ignore Gojo = Gojo notice you = Gojo being in love. Being unbothered = Gojo will become your dog.

He wanted to work for every bit of your affection and attention. You and Spider-Woman had managed to make him feel like he had to.

He was planning to ask for your phone number tomorrow at school or suggest working at the library together.

And that's exactly what he did.

"Either you give me your phone number so we can talk about the project, or we work on it at the library. Your choice." It was right by the lockers as school ended.

You didn’t even glance at him as you zipped your bag. "I’m going to the library anyway. We can go," you said, not breaking stride as you brushed past him, heading for the door.

Gojo blinked, caught off guard for a split second. You weren’t fazed by him, not even slightly. But he wasn’t going to let it go that easily. He jogged to catch up, his usual confidence returning in full force.

"Wait, but can I still have your number though?" he asked, his voice light but tinged with that unmistakable charm of his. He really couldn’t help himself—he needed to get a response from you, something, anything.

You didn’t answer , your pace steady as you made your way to the library.

Gojo, though, wasn’t about to back off. He was persistent, a little frustrated, but more amused than anything. “I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for much,” he added, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You didn’t reply, your silence giving him no indication of whether he was getting through to you or not. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like he was getting closer.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

After his non stop yapping about everything and anything, you really had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You felt like your head was going to explode if you had to listen to him for even one more second.

You left your laptop open on the document, but there were several tabs open as well. When he noticed it was about to go to sleep, he instinctively reached out and moved the mouse to keep it open, a habit, really.

He wasn’t trying to snoop, he really wasn't but ... but you know his hand… well, his hand was doing it. He checked to make sure you weren’t anywhere nearby before starting to browse through the tabs.

There were news articles about Spider-Woman—he didn’t know you were a fan. He thought maybe if he told you he'd met her, it might impress you. Then there were music tabs, shopping, school-related stuff, and two emails. Why were there two emails? Weird

One was just school-related—nothing out of the ordinary.

But then, he opened the other one.

He stopped.

Why were there so many emails? At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just casual messages, questions, and updates. But then he spotted the Gmail account.

The one that said spider-woman@gmail.com.

His hand froze on the mouse.

His blood ran cold as realization sank in. His brain screamed at him that it couldn’t be, but the signs were there—the news tabs, the emails, and… his own message, sitting right there, bold in the inbox.

The same message he had sent to Spider-Woman.

The room felt eerily quiet as he stared at the screen, the world around him fading into the background. His heart pounded in his chest as he scrolled through the messages, seeing thank-you notes, requests for help, and even memes and ads mixed in. It all pointed to one impossible, yet now undeniable conclusion: you were Spider-Woman.

The same person who had saved him more times than he could count.

The same person who had ignored his email.

The same person who was now walking back toward the table.

He scrambled to close the email tab, his hands fumbling slightly in his panic. His pulse thundered in his ears as he tried to compose himself, acting like nothing had happened.

When you returned, you sat down without sparing him a glance, opening your laptop again and resuming your work. He watched you, his mind racing. He wanted to say something, but what could he say? "Hey, so I figured out your biggest secret, no big deal"? Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Instead, he sat there in silence for the first time in his life, staring at you with a mixture of awe, guilt, and nervous energy, realizing that nothing between the two of you would ever be the same again.

You were too focused on the document to notice Gojo’s sudden quietness—something that was extremely out of character for him. The only sound between you was the faint clicking of your keyboard and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Gojo’s head was spinning. You were Spider-Woman. The mysterious hero everyone talked about. The one who saved lives while juggling a life as an unbothered, quiet, and cool high school student.

He couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. How had he missed it? It was obvious now—your exhaustion, your constant disappearing acts, even your unapproachable demeanor. He suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"You okay?" you asked, finally noticing the weird energy radiating off him.

"Huh?" Gojo jolted, almost knocking over his chair. "Yeah, yeah! Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine? Are you fine? You seem fine. So, I’m fine!" He was rambling, his words coming out too fast.

You squinted at him suspiciously. "Right… Well, if you're fine, then focus on the project."

"Yep! Project. Totally focusing on the project." He picked up a pen and pretended to write something down, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about what to do with this newfound knowledge. Should he say something? Should he keep it to himself?

Then an idea popped into his head. A terrible, ridiculous, Gojo-level idea.

"So, uh… I’ve been thinking," he began, trying to sound casual. "Spider-Woman's pretty cool, huh?"

You froze for a second but quickly recovered, keeping your face neutral. "Sure," you muttered, not looking up.

"Yeah, I mean, she’s, like, super badass, right? Saving people, swinging through the city, beating up bad guys…" He trailed off, gauging your reaction.

"Do you have a point, or are you just going to waste my time?" you asked flatly, still typing.

"Okay, hear me out." He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What if I told you I know who Spider-Woman is?"

That made you pause. You looked up at him, your expression carefully blank. "And who do you think she is?"

Gojo grinned, leaning back in his chair like he was the smartest person in the world. "I think it’s one of my friends, you know. Someone really close to me."

Your stomach dropped, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. "You really think the world revolves around you, don’t you?"

Gojo's grin only widened, as if your deflection confirmed his suspicions. "Oh, come on," he said, his tone teasing but smug. "I didn’t say everything revolves around me. Just most things. But Spider-Woman? She’s definitely orbiting somewhere in my galaxy."

You rolled your eyes, shoving a notebook into your bag. "You sound ridiculous, Satoru. Maybe Spider-Woman’s got better things to do than deal with your ego."

"Maybe," he mused, leaning forward on the desk, "or maybe she’s hiding in plain sight, pretending to be all calm and collected while secretly being a total under our noses. Just saying, I’ve got a pretty good radar for these things."

You froze yet again for the briefest second but recovered quickly, you grabbed your bags and shut your laptop close. Snapping your bag shut to go home. "Your radar’s broken," you muttered. "Try focusing on this project instead of your conspiracy theories."

He laughed, leaning back in his chair again. "You’re fun when you’re annoyed, you know that? But fine, I’ll drop it."

You didn’t reply, slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking away. But as you headed for the exit door, Gojo called after you, his voice playful and full of confidence.

"See you tomorrow! Spider- I mean y/n"

You didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but your grip on your bag tightened. He was getting too close—way too close.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

As Gojo rode home in his sleek car, chauffeured by his driver, his mind buzzed with theories. He needed to confirm everything he saw. if you really were the spider woman. And to do that, he had to meet Spider-Woman again.

The idea made him grin—dangerous, mischievous, and reckless, just like always. How hard could it be to catch your attention? you always seemed to be around when things went south. Maybe it was time to stir the pot.

Satisfied, Gojo leaned back, staring out at the city lights as rain began to fall, pattering softly against the car window. He cracked the window slightly, letting the cool, damp air wash over his face.

The city looked alive, glowing under the rain-soaked streetlights. It gave him the perfect excuse to act on his latest harebrained idea.

He casually leaned forward, tapping his driver on the shoulder. "Hey, take the long route tonight. I need some fresh air."

The driver frowned in the rearview mirror. "It’s pouring, sir. Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He waited until the car slowed down on a quieter street lined with tall buildings. Without a word, Gojo suddenly threw the car door open and bolted into the rain.

"Sir?!" the driver shouted, slamming the brakes, but Gojo was already out of sight.

Ignoring the downpour, Gojo sprinted to the nearest building and grabbed hold of the fire escape ladder. He climbed effortlessly, raindrops sliding down his face as his soaked clothes clung to him. His breathing grew heavier, but exhilaration coursed through him as he reached the rooftop.

Drenched and panting, he stood at the edge of the rooftop, his grin widening as he looked down at the shimmering streets below. Rain fell harder, a steady roar that filled the silence around him.

"Alright, Spider-Woman," he muttered, his voice almost drowned by the rain. "Come and save me."

And with zero hesitation, he stepped off the edge.

The rush of air and rain hit him like a shockwave, his hair whipping back as he plummeted. The ground raced toward him at an alarming rate, the city lights blurring into streaks. Arms spread wide, Gojo’s grin never faltered.

This is either the dumbest or the smartest thing I’ve ever done, he thought, completely unbothered.

Before the thought could settle, a sharp thwip pierced through the sound of rushing wind. A sticky, webbed line wrapped around his waist, yanking him upward with jarring force.

You reeled him up in seconds, landing you both on a nearby rooftop with a thud.

Gojo looked up at you, still grinning despite the rain dripping from his hair. "Took you long enough."

You let go of him roughly, stepping back with your hands on your hips. Your mask couldn’t hide the sheer disbelief in your voice. "Do you want to die?"

"Not particularly," he replied nonchalantly, shaking water from his hands. "But I did want to see you."

"I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this again. Why?" you asked, crossing your arms and tilted your head.

The rain was still pouring.

Gojo, however, didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he was grinning as he sauntered closer, closing the distance between you until his chest was practically brushing against yours.

His thoughts, clearly, were somewhere else entirely.

"You two are the same height too," he murmured under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself.

"What are you—"

"Never mind," he cut you off, shaking his head as though to clear it.

You glared at him harder, not in the mood for his games. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Well," he began, dragging out the word like it was some grand revelation, "I never actually said I’d stop, did I?"

Your eye twitched inside your mask. "you were apologizing that day."

"And I did. But that does mean I would stop." he nodded as if his logic made any sense and smiled. his white hair flopping.

"That’s not how this works—"

"And besides," he interrupted again, this time actually pouting. "You didn’t reply to me."

You stared at him in disbelief as he stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. The audacity of this man.

"You nearly died because I didn’t reply to your ridiculous email?" you snapped, your voice rising.

Gojo leaned back dramatically, as if your words had physically struck him. "Ridiculous? Wow, okay, now I’m offended."

"Good," you shot back, pointing a finger at his chest. "Maybe you’ll think twice next time you decide to jump off a rooftop!"

He grinned again, leaning in closer until your finger pressed against his chest. "Maybe I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?"

Your hand fell to your side as you took a step back, suddenly feeling like the air between you had shifted. His grin softened, his blue eyes locked on yours like he could see right through the mask.

Then, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear despite the cold rain. His voice was low, almost a purr.

"I know who you are, Spider-Woman. I know you."

Before you could respond, he tilted his head slightly and pressed a kiss to your neck through the damp fabric of your suit.

Your heart raced, each beat pounding louder than the rain in your ears. You froze, every nerve in your body on high alert. He knows.

How did he—?

How?

His proximity, his voice, the way he had shifted so quickly from pouting and stomping to this... whatever this was.

You need to go... oh God. He really knows. You need to walk up from whatever spell he put you on. You had thought he was just guessing.

You tried to steady your breathing, backing away step by step, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical force. Your heart was pounding, and your mind screamed at you to move, to get away.

Without another thought, you turned and bolted. You didn’t even know where you were running to—just that you needed to get far, far away from him.

The rain has already soaked through your suit as you leapt from the rooftops, your breath ragged. You needed the ground beneath your feet, something solid, something real to convince yourself this wasn’t happening.

“Y/N! Spider-Woman!”

His voice cut through the night, growing louder as he chased after you.

You ducked into a dark alley, pressing yourself against the wall and trying to disappear into the shadows. Your hands shook as you pulled off your mask for a moment, letting the cool air hit your face. Is this a dream? Did he really kiss my neck?

The realization felt like a storm raging through you, and you couldn’t tell if it was fear, embarrassment, or something else entirely that was making your hands shake.

His voice echoed through the dark alley, persistent and determined, but then came a sudden, panicked scream. It wasn’t just him anymore—you could hear other voices, aggressive and threatening.

Your instincts took over as you pulled your mask back on and bolted toward the sound.

Two men were on him, struggling to take whatever valuables they could find. Gojo was on the ground, his usual confidence replaced by a rare flicker of panic. He was trying to fight off the best he could but with no results.

It took seconds to act. You swooped down, taking them on swiftly. One man lunged with a knife, and though you dodged, the blade grazed your arm, leaving a sharp sting. Gritting your teeth, you didn’t let it slow you down.

With precision and force, you subdued them both, tying them up before they even had a chance to realize what had hit them.

Once they were secured, your eyes flicked to Gojo. He was still on the ground, staring up at you with wide eyes, his usual grin nowhere to be found. You gave him a quick once-over—he seemed fine, just shaken.

Satisfied, you turned away, preparing to launch yourself back into the air. But just as your feet left the ground, a strong hand grabbed your ankle, yanking you down.

You gasped, flipping upside down as he pulled you back, leaving you dangling face to face with him.

“I... I’m fine,” he stammered, his voice trembling slightly but growing steadier with every word. His eyes, filled with something you couldn’t quite name, locked onto yours. “But... stay with me. Please.”

The rain continued to pour around you, the alley dim and quiet except for the sound of your breathing and his desperate plea. It's a narrow space making him really close.

Your back pressed against the wall, your breath shallow, and your heart racing so loudly you swore he could hear it. Gojo’s gaze stayed locked on yours as he stepped closer, his confidence unwavering. There was no escape now—not from him. He already knew, and the realization sent a wave of both dread and relief washing over you.

Before you could muster a word, his hand slipped to the back of your head, his touch firm yet gentle. He leaned in and kissed you—through the mask.

It was awkward and strange—kissing upside down with fabric between you—but the tenderness in the gesture made you freeze. His lips moved softly, unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. Your eyes widened in shock, your mind screaming at you to move, to do something. But your heart? Your heart betrayed you, hammering so wildly you feared it might give everything away.

When he pulled back, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His blue eyes, piercing even in the rain-drenched darkness.

Your grip on the web tightened, trembling slightly as you brought one hand to the edge of your mask. Rain trickled down your face as you hesitated, the moment stretching endlessly before you finally pulled it off.

The mask fell away, revealing everything you’d tried so hard to hide.

Gojo’s smile widened, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. You saw it all in his eyes—the understanding, the mischief, and something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

Before he could react, before he could say something to break the moment, you pulled him in, your lips meeting his with a sudden urgency.

The kiss was real now—no barriers, no hesitation. It was raw, messy, and electric, the rain soaking both of you as the world around you faded into nothing. His hands moved to steady you, holding you like he didn’t want you to slip away again.

Gojo's lips trailed from your mouth to your cheeks, then to your nose, each kiss lingering as if he were trying to memorize every part of you. When he reached your neck, the position—hanging upside down—made the blood rush to your head, amplifying every sensation.

His lips were warm and soft, his movements deliberate as he left a trail of kisses along your skin. When he reached the sensitive spot just below your jaw, you couldn't help the small, involuntary moan that escaped your lips.

Gojo froze for a moment, his lips still pressed to your neck, before he chuckled softly against your skin. "Was that a moan?" he teased, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine.

"Shut up," you muttered, though the words lacked any bite. Your breath hitched as he kissed that same spot again, slower this time, and your grip on the web tightened.

He didn’t let up. His kisses became softer, deeper, as if he were trying to consume every sound you made, swallowing each gasp and moan like they were his own. His arms tightened around you, holding you in place as if afraid you'd disappear the moment he let go.

"Gojo," you whispered, voice shaky, barely audible over the sound of the rain.

"Say my name again," he murmured against your skin, his tone smug but laced with something deeper.

You wanted to push him away, to regain some sense of control, but his lips found another sensitive spot, and your resolve crumbled. The way he kissed you, the way he held you—it wasn’t just playful anymore. There was an intensity in his touch, a need, a desperation that mirrored your own.

"Let me breathe," you managed to say between gasps, though the words were weak and your hands betrayed you by gripping his shirt instead of pushing him away.

"Not a chance," he murmured, a grin evident in his voice as he pressed another kiss to your neck.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

THE UPSIDE DOWN KISS JDMIFHJFNRUBFDEIEOFNUGBF

happy birthday my glorious king 🤴 🔵👄🔵

(idk who the artist is but credit to them)

some google searches about our oiled and double caked up king

@river-ride , @that-b-word-lol , @meforpr3sident , @khenanadeche , @webreathfandoms , @tykaii , @uniquecutie-puffs , @strxberryicecream , @tbzzluvr , @haruhatake , staarflowerr , @kouyoumarryme , @ash--007 , @junglejuicee , @nora-soramame , @exquisitelion , @elitesanjisimp , @bitchycloudstrawberry , @koshhin , @izzyb3ll4 , @sugurubabe , @qualitygiantshoepsychic , @dann-acalle , @izabellamendo , @aimsky , @khaleesihavilliard , @gumiiiiezzzz , @quinny23 , @lillycore , @ranatherealestsigma , @minaa-06 , @gorgeousgust , @rreveurdoll , @yourgirljasmine5 , @arabellasolstice , @whytfisgojosohot , @ilybbg , @ravenmoore14 , @jeon-blue , @beautiful--macabre , @r0ckst4rjk , @insomnicshello , @hakuwaii , @cherriee-ee , @fandomqueen696 ,

satoru tries to be nonchalant and mysterious when u fuck by staying silent and fucking you like the guys in porn do: no moans, no flavour, nothing. but he lasts about two strokes before literally gasping out the most pornographic moan and refusing to shut up from that point onwards.

hes so talkative, moaning and rambling on about how good and tight you feel wrapped around his cock that he starts to sound stupidly cumdrunk. the only time he's not talking is when he's got his tongue in ur mouth and even then he's still moaning like he's in heat.

toru is so loud too, like you get noise complaints regularly. he never shut up, and when he cums the whole city ends up knowing about it because he's on the verge of tears and begging for you to milk him dry and there's no such thing as too loud when it's you he's fucking. he encourages you to let him hear you, wants the neighbours to know just how good he lays it down for you... he's so annoying i love him

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

Showing 'Excitement' in Writing

Eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Bouncing on the balls of their feet.

Clapping hands together in delight.

Speaking in a high-pitched, rapid tone.

Grinning from ear to ear.

Jumping up and down with joy.

Hugging others spontaneously.

Cheeks flushed with enthusiasm.

Widening eyes and raised eyebrows.

Waving hands animatedly while talking.

Giggling or laughing uncontrollably.

Unable to sit still, shifting in their seat.

Heart racing with exhilaration.

Feet tapping or legs jiggling.

Practically vibrating with energy.

Exclaiming, "I can't believe it!" repeatedly.

Reaching out to touch or grab someone’s hand.

Dancing or spinning around.

Clutching their chest as if to contain the excitement.

Practicing or rehearsing what they’ll say or do.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

everyone knows dr. zayne is cool as a cucumber, and it's a given for him that you're known as his wife, but when a fresh-faced new resident seemingly makes a move on you... what will he do?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, jealousy (a very jealous zayne, in fact), making out in his office, crack, fluff, hunter!reader, you and zayne have a daughter

note: inspired by that one kim min-kyu scene in business proposal :D this is actually an extension for nocturne of twilight and dawn's first light but can also be read as standalone

You hadn't seen your husband for two weeks.

There was a spring on your step when you entered Akso Hospital right after your long intercity mission. You had acquired some bruises and they weren't anything serious, so you figured you’d just have Greyson treat them. Besides, it gave you the perfect excuse to hand him some cookies as a souvenir.

And, of course, ask him to ring for Zayne to meet you once he had the time.

"Miss, do you need help?"

But a curious voice addressed you when you loitered around in the lobby, and you turned around to find a bright-faced young man with red hair and wearing doctor's coat.

"Ah, yes, I want to meet Dr. Zayne," you smiled. "Or Dr. Greyson will do."

The young doctor perked up at the names you mentioned. "Oh, are you a patient? Do you have an appointment already?"

"Hmm, no, actually I am—"

You halted mid-sentence before the words his wife slipped out, rethinking your choice. You knew of Zayne's infamous reputation in the hospital, and while almost everyone in his floor knew you, this new doctor didn't, and you thought it was best to leave it that way.

"Yeah, I already have an appointment," you nodded, plastering an thin smile. "Just tell Dr. Greyson that Y/N wants to meet him."

"Right, right, I'll page him now..." he mumbled, pulling out his pager and his phone. "I'll text him too..."

"Thank you."

"O-oh, Miss! Wait!" the young man called after you in a hurry when you turned around. "I've noticed it for a while, you have a cut on the side of your lips..."

"Ah, this..." Your fingers instinctively brushed the dried blood on your lips. You hadn’t thought the small cut was noticeable. "Yes, it’s from earlier—"

"Actually, I’m an ER resident!" he interrupted with a bright grin. "Let me treat you first!"

Caught off guard by his enthusiasm, you barely had time to react as he gently but firmly guided you towards the emergency room.

"Dr. Zayne! Dr. Zayne! Your wife is here~!"

Zayne had barely stepped into his office after a grueling surgery when Greyson barged in, all too casually, delivering the news with a grin. "She’s waiting in the lobby!"

He blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh?"

You're back? He pulled out his muted phone, checking the notifications. Sure enough, you’d sent him a message an hour ago, letting him know you’d safely landed in Linkon.

His little, snarky wife. For the past two weeks you had been away, the house had felt lonelier. Sure, his daughter—who resembled you in personality, no less—was a bundle of sunshine and adorable beyond words, but without you, there was always that subtle void in the air.

Or maybe it wasn’t the house at all? Maybe it was just him—utterly, hopelessly whipped.

"Why isn’t she coming up to my office?" he asked suddenly, noticing the odd detail.

"Hmm, yeah, and it’s weird... why did the new resident say she’s asking for me?" Greyson mused, turning toward Zayne. "Don’t you want to meet her instead? Whatever she needs me for, I’m sure you could handle it."

Zayne promptly left his office and took long strides toward the elevator. As the doors started to close, he even half-sprinted, calling out to the person inside to hold it for him.

Okay, maybe he was a little too eager, but was it really so wrong to be this excited to see his wife again when the two of you had been apart for two weeks?

...then again, you didn't need to know. You would roast him to bits should you know he missed you this much.

Zayne got off at the lobby, expecting to find you there— only to find the usual flow of hospital staff and visitors. He was about to call you when he wandered past the emergency room and turned the corner—and that’s when he got his shock of the day.

There you were. But not alone.

With a guy.

Whose hand is touching your lips.

"It must be tough being a hunter, huh?"

The red-haired resident carefully tended to your bruised arm, wrapping it in a fresh bandage as you sighed, thinking back to the mission. "Yeah, there are definitely some hard days..."

"But despite all that, you still keep yourself in shape!" he remarked, eyeing your toned arms with a hint of admiration.

You let out a sheepish laugh, remembering those pull-ups sessions with Zayne. "Haha, that's because my husband makes sure I'm getting enough exercise..."

"You're married?!" His voice was filled with disbelief, and it caught you off guard, yet he grinned afterwards. "Wow! Is he a hunter too?"

You would've never guessed, boy. This resident doctor was cute, you thought, ever so curious at everything. You could only imagine the look on his face if you told him that the Dr. Zayne was your husband.

You were about to refute it when his fingers brushed against your lips. "Oh, sorry, let me apply some ointment here first..."

His touch felt cool to your lips and you were momentarily stunned at the contact— but then a gruff cough startled you so much you almost jumped.

The towering figure of your husband behind him. Zayne's dark gaze was fixed on the man in front of you, like he could murder the poor guy with just a look.

"Z-Zayne...?" you squeaked against the ointment on your lips, and the resident quickly turned behind him in surprise, hastily greeting him, "Oh, Dr. Zayne!"

Zayne shot the poor man a single, pointed look before his gaze shifted to you, clearly unamused.

He suddenly grabbed your hand and, without sparing the resident another glance, swiftly pulled you away. The other guy was left standing there, speechless, as Zayne led you off, leaving him in the dust.

. . .

"Zayne!"

Oh, how he actually missed his name coming out from your lips.

"Are you done with your schedule?" you asked as he pulled you into the elevator, confusion evident in the way you tilted your head. But when he didn’t answer, you glanced down at his firm grip on your arm, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, no... are you angry?"

Sigh. It irked him so much, actually. Because, how could you, after weeks—

No, he actually knew he was being irrational. He shouldn’t overreact like this just because someone else touched you. But why is he so annoyed, still?

"Wait, why?" you kept asking, wide-eyed, as the two of you stepped out and made way towards his office. "I'm not injured! I'm fine! It's just some bruises—"

Without a word, Zayne pulled you into his office, swiftly locking the door behind him. Before you could say another word, he cornered you against the wall, and you fell silent instantly.

It had been a while since he’d seen you this way—stunned, caught off guard, and utterly silent under his gaze. He studied your face closely, watching the way your breath hitched as the tension between you both thickened.

It sparked something inside him seeing you like this, a sense of satisfaction that he couldn’t quite explain, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

That was when he saw the blood on your lips. "Did you get punched in the face?"

"Y-Yes, but— it's nothing severe!" you defended, trying to convince him. "It's such a small cut anyway!"

He frowned. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"What? Hey, I was about to ask Greyson, but—"

That got him frown even deeper, even irate. "Why Greyson? When you come home with any injuries, you come to me, not anyone else."

You let out a resigned sigh, slumping your shoulders in defeat. "Because I know you'll fuss over me, duh."

"I don't fuss," he retorted.

"You do," you shot back, pursing your lips. "You try to act like this cool, calm robot all the time, but you always drone on and on whenever you patch me up. You're worried, it shows."

Zayne huffed, shifting his gaze away from you as he felt his face burn. Was he that obvious? How could he not, though, when you managed to get hurt so often and yet acted so innocent about it?

Then as if inspired, you caught on immediately. Your eyes sparkled, and a mischievous smirk tugged at your lips. "Wait, just now... don't tell me... Are you jealous?"

Damn.

"Heh, Dr. Zayne, really?" Your voice was playful now, mocking him. "Whoa, how can this be?"

How had you figured him out so easily?

You continued in a sing-song voice, putting both hands on your chest, "Ah, my heart flutters! My husband is apparently—"

Enough. This time, his patience snapped.

He didn’t hesitate even for a moment. A low growl escaped him, and in one swift motion, he crashed his lips against yours, silencing you with the most effective method he could think of.

"Mmph!" You gasped in surprise, the teasing words at the end of your tongue completely forgotten. His gray eyes gleamed. Been too long, he thought, and now he was making sure you knew just how badly he craved this.

The kiss was searing as he deepened it, his tongue seeking yours with urgency. "Hngh!" You let out a feeble whine when he teased you by biting your lips.

Zayne held back a snort. One of his hand then strayed inside your hunter uniform, unclasping your bra with a flick.

"—?!" Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening, and before you could process it, he pulled away. But you were far from right in thinking it was over. The dangerous gleam in his eyes kept you tense as he swiftly removed his glasses...

...before he pulled you back towards him and claimed your lips once again.

With a swift, commanding motion, he guided you toward his desk. His papers scattered at the sudden movement, but he had you bent over it regardless, forcing your body to arch. One arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, while his right hand fondled your breasts, repeatedly squeezing, palming and switching between them.

"Mmm...!" You let out a strangled moan, instinctively holding onto his shoulder, feeling the way how he groped you ignited your core. "Ahh..."

Your body was tantalizing as always. Hardened and sometimes bruised from your work it may be, but to Zayne, you were still beautiful as ever.

When you gasped for air, he decided he was done with your swollen lips. His lips then trailed down to your neck, sucking hard on it, creating a squelching sound that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"W-what's... gotten into you...?" you breathed out, tangling your fingers in his hair, hyperaware of his hands still roaming over your nipples.

In response, he nibbled at your skin and flicked your breasts at the same time, causing you to freeze and draw a sharp, hitched breath. "Haah...!"

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curled wickedly at your reaction, and he continued to pepper your neck with series of wet sucks as if to mark you altogether. You writhed under him, whiny and sighing, relishing his hot breath on your skin.

You were utterly at his mercy, pliant and helpless in his hands. There was a deep satisfaction in knowing he was the only one who could bring you, his lawfully wedded wife, to this state—

Still, he wouldn’t allow you to be indecent in a place like this. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing heavily, eyes dark with lust, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your jaw. "Don’t tempt me," he muttered, voice low and raspy.

You gazed up at him, your heart pounding. "Zayne..." you whispered, a whine broke through the heat on your flushed face.

His expression softened just enough, a flicker of tenderness cutting through the intensity. Pretty. That’s what you were, undeniably so. How he had missed out on you so long once was his greatest regret.

Carefully, he helped you sit upright, his touch gentle as he clasped your bra and began buttoning up your uniform, disheveled from his earlier ministrations.

The gentle way he touched you was a stark contrast to how it was earlier. "Is that a new way to treat busted lip?" you nudged his collar, feeling a little braver now.

"For bad wives, yeah."

"I'm not a bad wife! Just disobedient on some occasion."

Zayne's fingers brushed your face as he finished with your uniform, his dark-gray eyes steady on you. You pouted.

"You're the one who's bad," you accused with slight resentment, not missing a beat as the heat between your legs started to dissipate. "Leaving me unfinished like that."

"Hmm? Am I?" he murmured, the faintest amusement in his tone.

"You have to take responsibility tonight, you big meanie," you mumbled, your pout deepening as you avoided meeting his gaze.

Zayne snorted at the sight of you—so precious in his eyes, his thumb lightly grazing the corner of your lips in a gesture so tender it made your heart skip, before whispering in your ear:

"Well, if your voice won't wake our daughter, that is."

Epilogue

Not long after, just as you had gathered yourself and were preparing to leave the hospital to head home, a sudden knock at the door of his office startled you both.

Quickly, you moved to sit on the patient’s seat, feigning nonchalance as you braced yourself for whoever was on the other side. Zayne reached for the door, but before he could unlock it, a familiar voice called out.

"Excuse me!" the resident's voice sounded a bit hesitant but firm. "Dr. Zayne, the miss left her handbag earlier!"

Zayne let out a low, irked sigh. You glanced at him curiously, watching as he opened the door and came face-to-face with the redheaded resident.

Without a word, he extended his hand, and the resident blinked before handing over the bag.

"I-is the miss still here?" the young doctor asked, almost intimidated by his unfriendly gaze.

"Ma'am," Zayne corrected, his voice flat.

"Huh?"

"Call her ma'am. She's someone's wife."

"O-oh, and her husband is—"

"Me. I am her husband."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the matter-of-fact exchange, heat rising to your cheeks as Zayne’s words hung confidently in the air. He curtly thanked the young resident before slamming the door shut in his face.

Your jaw practically hit the floor. "Zayne!" you gasped, staring at him as he turned back towards you, entirely unbothered.

Your husband was as cold as the snowman he often made, but somehow the way he boldly declared he was your husband was just so him that it made you so giddy.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms with a playful smile. "You’re really jealous, huh? How?"

He didn’t answer, his gaze still fixed elsewhere, most definitely trying to save his dignity.

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to him with a teasing sway. Your fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, turning him to face you, and you winked at him mischievously.

"Well, I’m all yours. But if it makes you feel better, maybe I’ll stay away from any ER residents for a while~"

Boo

Boo

｡.*｡☆ﾟ 🕰️ 08.45 p.m

18+ suggestive content! cw. cockwarming. based on this ask and thirst idea in my inbox💁🏻‍♀️ psa: reader makes the first move 🤞🏻

a part of gojo's love entries

“hah—hah, sweets, wait—!”

now, now… what a rare sight. you don’t usually climb on top of your husband and attack him with senseless kisses on your own accord— usually it’s the opposite.

but ever since satoru got you pregnant, and now that you had reached the end of your first trimester, your hormones were at most turbulent, and you could get turned on over random things he did.

“hah—” he groaned, throwing his head back when your sinful lips trailed kisses on his neck, and your hand played with his length, squeezing him and making him harder by each second.

both of you were still fully clothed and he wasn’t even out of his pants yet— you just unzipped and took the prize.

for god’s sake, he thought. you looked so fine taking charge of him and making him writhe like this.

“satoru—” your voice was feathery as you breathed in his neck, before sucking it hard and making him grunt. you let go of his length, pressed your body closer, and then started grinding against him.

in your defense, your husband looked delectable these days. you didn’t know why, but seeing him all happy made you want to keep him inside your pocket or mark him so everyone would know that he was yours.

that even when he casually throws that silly grin to everyone, it is you who have his entire being.

“whoa—” satoru took a sharp breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as you bucked your hips against him. “sexy… what brought this—ah—on?”

“your fault.” you murmured, nibbling on his neck and sneakily unbuttoning his shirt. “you— manspread a lot.”

“huh…?”

“you were baiting me.”

you didn’t give him a chance to react as you devoured his lips next, placing both hands on his neck— suck, suck, suck and bite —and coupled by the feeling of your still clothed slit pressed against his bare cock, satoru grunted and let out a low moan.

“so—haah—spreading my legs… is a crime now, eh?”

“not when—mmm—in front of me.”

“you’re going to be the death— of me.” satoru chuckled, feeling sweat lining all over his body. you were a vixen under the guise of a proper wife—he supposed he already knew that but tonight really drove the fact home.

he was a mess—swollen lips, heavily panting—and damn, now you were trailing sloppy kisses down his chest, too near to his crotch—

“don’t t-tease me… sweets.” his voice was rough as he heaved a breath. you had cleverly dragged his inner desire enough for him not to think straight and oh suddenly he had a vision—

“—toru,” and the final straw was your small, needy tone.

with that, his senses went flying out the window. he didn’t really think much when he grabbed you close, slipped his fingers inside your panties to feel your wetness, before tearing it off and turning you over, causing you to fall back into his chest—

—followed by spreading your legs and rolling his hips, and effectively sheathing his hardened cock inside you.

“mphm!” you let out a hitched sigh, feeling so incredibly full all of a sudden.

“well, look at how the tables have turned.” you heard your husband snickering behind you.

you were still trying to catch your breath when you got distracted by his large hand under your dress, spreading across your belly and pressing on your barely noticeable baby bump ever so slightly.

you let out a mewl and as if he just realized what he did, satoru turned to you. “hey, you okay? is this comfy for you?”

you panted, looking away. “…comfy.”

“well, good. the moment you feel any discomfort, you have to tell me, ‘kay?”

“mm-hmm.”

“wanna move?”

“no, just… stay like this.”

“fine by me,” satoru licked his lips, feeling his hardness throbbing inside your tight folds. even after he had fucked a baby into you, the way you took him inside never fail to leave him breathless.

“well, now on to a more pressing issue…” he turned your chin towards him with his other hand, a giddy grin split his handsome face. “mind telling me, why did you suddenly pounce on me like that, hmm?”

your face burned with embarrassment. you couldn't possibly tell him that he was so irresistible you just had to bite him now, could you?

“can’t i? would you rather i don’t do it at all?”

“trying to evade the question, i see...” satoru’s smile evolved into a knowing smirk. “i seem to recall you finding me attractive for spreading my legs though but whatever. i’m happy either way, so right, let’s resume—”

he tapped your lower belly. “another pop-up quiz: what do you feel more here... me or our baby?”

you squirmed in his lap, feeling him twitch inside you and your entire body set ablaze. god. i’ve picked a wrong fight.

“no response? failing to answer will result in me deducting your marks, you know~”

“...is this your new kink? roleplaying as teacher?”

“i am a licensed teacher, sweets. i’m just putting things to practice~”

you wanted to facepalm. how was it that even in sex he was always finding ways to make you laugh?

“time’s up, little wifey,” satoru chuckled and oh lord, the way his body shook also made his cock vibrate inside you, splitting you further. “for the sake of time and my poor honey’s very delicate condition, i’ll grant your wish.”

you snorted. “what are you on this time?”

“turning your horny thoughts into reality,” he retorted, playfully pursing his lips. “but first thing first, i’ll have to regretfully pull out. we need to change positions. you’ll stay under me and let me do the rest, ’kay?”

you accidentally let out a whine at the sudden feeling of loss—your pussy clenching around nothing. but as he laid you down and discarded his pants, you were met with the bright gleam of his eyes and wicked grin... and you could already feel yourself growing wet once more.

“don’t worry, sweets... i’ll soon make you feel sooo good— just like i always have, yeah?”

Baby gojo reacts to: megumi!🖤🐺

“just for three hours, can you do it?”

“…yeah.”

megumi stares at the blinking miniature of his sensei quietly, as the baby looks back at him too in silence.

“well then!” gojo claps his hands before turning to you. “let’s go, sweets! we have a willing, trusty babysitter to take care of him!”

you shoot your husband a glare before turning to megumi. “sorry, megumi. we have to go to school and investigate the recent cursed spirits outbreak, and it doesn’t feel right to bring him there.”

“i don’t mind, nee-san,” megumi replies to you almost nonchalantly, throwing a glance at your baby in his hold. “i’ll keep an eye on him.”

that’s what megumi said, but even he doesn’t know what he’ll do with a baby in his apartment. at first, he puts the kid on his bed and he immediately sits up straight and turns to him.

“what?” he questions the baby as if he could answer him. “do you feel cold?”

the munchkin is dressed in a frog onesie with little ears, so maybe he doesn’t feel cold, megumi thinks. in the next half an hour, he and the baby are in staring match, as he doesn’t even squeak once.

“you must be bored here,” megumi sighs, starting to feel bad that he can’t entertain him. “maybe i should ask her to accompany me next time…” his thoughts flit to the chirpy girl in his class, whom he knows will have many ideas to humor a baby.

maybe it can also be an excuse to spend time with her too.

suddenly, baby scoots closer to his side and leans to him, closing his eyes— and megumi feels warm inside.

“ah,” a small smile lights his face at the sight of this cute creature depending on him so trustingly. he pulls him closer and pats his back, before wrapping his arms around him to keep him in place.

“okay, let’s sleep together then.”