Lucifer Absolutely Can't Stop Himself From Thigh Humping When Making Out. Like He Can Not Keep His Hips

bestfriend!suguru who finds you sitting in the bathtub with your legs spread, hands that were frantically rubbing at your clit now frozen in place as you two blink at each other.

he was never supposed to even enter the bathroom — best friends have boundaries, after all — but hearing a strained scream of his name had him rushing to check if you were okay.

…only for him to realize a few moments later that it wasn’t a scream.

bestfriend!suguru who wordlessly pulls you out of the bathroom and tosses you onto the bed, ravaging you like a thirsty man that had been stranded in a desert.

your cunt was already sensitive from your previous actions, making you cry out and tangle his locks in between your fingers, but oh god — the way his tongue circled your clit before pushing inside your entrance, lapping up all of your wetness and tongue-fucking you without mercy — you weren’t sure whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer.

at one point, his spit was almost entirely the reason why you were even wet. he was so persistent, making out with your pussy as if this was his last meal on earth. a clear, stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy when he inserts two fingers and curls them just right, hitting that spongy spot you couldn’t usually reach by yourself.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru pulls away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stares at the mess you’ve made. “look at that pretty pussy. so wet, all f’me,” a soft slap! has your body jolting, making you lift your head to look at him.

bestfriend!suguru who looked absolutely pussydrunk, eyes glazed over and still glued to the spot in between your legs as he fumbled with his belt. his cock was straining so hard against his pants you could’ve sworn they’d actually rip apart.

when he pushes his cock into your cunt, he has to bite down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to stop himself from just burying himself to the hilt and fucking you to the point of bruising your cervix. the warmth and wetness surrounding and squeezing around his shaft has him seeing stars, and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

when he finally picks up the pace, he ruts into you like a dog in heat, fingers digging into your waist as he chases after his high. he moans at the sinful squelch of your pussy with every thrust— and if he could eat you out and break you with his cock at the same time, he would.

bestfriend!suguru who says, “if I’d known you had a pussy this fuckin’ good, I would’ve made you mine ages ago.”

“When in doubt, rub one out.”

-idk, some dude probably

TWITTER LINKS Ⅱ ~JJK

MDI

𐙚 SATORU GOJO

✮ pounding from the back ∩-∩

✮ gojo fingering compilations *▽*

✮ fucking mhmmm ^o^

✮ fucking mhmmmmm ^0^

✮ loves it when you wear skirts ＞-＜

✮ sex in the shower －O－

✮ he is such a tease! >ω<

✮ overstimulating till you quiver around him >w<

✮ deepthroating him >"<

✮ breeding your little pussy -v-

✮ loves how his girth disappears >0<

✮ love making in the kitchen >-<

𐙚 TOJI FUSHIGURO

✮ loves to make a mess ￣︶￣

✮ so rough! >w<

✮ gock on his cock o~o

✮ he just loooves tasting you /-\

✮ masked TOJI? ಠ_ಠ & 0-0

✮ punishing you for being a brat again >o<

✮ "shut up and take my cock-" O-O

✮ letting him play wid your preety pussy -w-

✮ eating your pussy nice n good 0v0

✮ he is definitely going this rough *^*

✮ toji creampii compilations ^-^

𐙚 KENTO NANAMI

✮ filling you up so good -v-

✮ you didn't know he is this nasty *w*

✮ "you've been a baaaad girl" ≧ ~ ≦

✮ his precious doll >u<

✮ he is so big 0-0

✮ made for him ^~^ & -^-

✮ you teased him a lot >0<

✮ he is stressed so take him like a good girl -v-

✮ his brown suspender? ⊙o⊙

✮ so thick so tasty suck it now >0<

✮ using you the way he pleases -w-

✮ it's Gojo's fault that he is being so rough ´･ω･`

✮ "keep that pretty mouth shut hm?" *-*

✮ pounding from back >0<

𐙚 SUGURU GETO

✮ loves to pull your hair while fucking >-<

✮ tied up and fingering ^-^

✮ oversensitive? but he doesn't care >-<

✮ pounding from back *~*

✮ choking you while fucking >~< & >-<

✮ squirting while he fucks!! also pounding your asshole >0<

✮ choking you on his cock *O*

✮ fingering you nice n gud -v-

✮ "who's my good monkey?" ಠ-ಠ

✮ squirting when he fucks >w<

✮ definitely him *0* & -^-

✮ "filthy monkey, you like my cock so much huh?" >-<

✮ pounding you in couch >0<

𐙚 RYOMEN SUKUNA

✮ shibari? his fav UvU

✮ shibari again ''-''

✮ sorry but this is how he is *^*

✮ shibari + rough fingering 〒▽〒

✮ throat-fuck -o-

✮ taking his cock tied up >-<

✮ his little pet <3

✮ "worship my cock like the little slut you are" *v*

✮ so good at taking his cock >O<

✮ sukuna's meal >u<

✮ he is so nasty *^*

✮ your tight asshole makes him insane *o*

✮ sukuna bonus

𐙚 SHIU KONG

✮ sit on his face, he is gonna make you cum <3

✮ sensual ˘⌣˘

✮ squirting while he fucks >w<

✮ he fucks so good /~\

✮ sucking his cock -0-

✮ riding him like a needy whore *u*

✮ faster and harder >0<

✮ your pussy is so good for him UvU

✮ "use that pretty mouth of yours" u0u

✮ eating your pussy >-<

𐙚 HIROMI HIGURUMA

✮ ride that face!! >0<

✮ "bad girls get spanked" >w<

✮ definitely fucking you like this o-o

✮ "such a good girl for me, hm?" /-\

✮ making him hard in public was a wrong idea *~*

✮ when you want his attention >u<

✮ pussy eating and soft sex 10/10 >v<

✮ he cannot control himself once he is inside you >-<

✮ fingering both your holes >^<

✮ he is so good and gentle normally >u<

✮ taking good care of your pussy ⊙o⊙

𐙚 KAMO CHOSO

✮ 69 with him ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°

✮ ridingg himm *ω*

✮ overstimulating him is so fun >w<

✮ riding his face + soft sex -0-

✮ fingering till you shaking >0<

✮ stroking his cock till he's shaking U-U

✮ loves teasing your clit nd nipples >-<

✮ his mommy <3

✮ giving him a tit job + your preety pussy ^-^

✮ riding him so good ^0^

✮ on the kitchen counter >^<

part 1

Loser!Gojo with a long distance girlfriend he finally gets to meet and goes mad.

Loser!Satoru really can’t believe he’s managed to even get a girlfriend let alone an online relationship, he met you on an old game barely anyone plays and instantly clicked with you, you shared the same nerdy interests with things like monsters and magic.

His days with you are spent calling and texting for hours on end, he’ll spend his entire day just sitting on the phone talking about absolutely nothing with you! He loves it so much! It’s to the point where he’ll oversleep from being up all night and miss a lecture, you always scold him for not setting alarms.

Things start innocent and cute at first then you both get needy, the phone calls get nastier and nastier, with you sending him some of the raunchier photos of yourself, he fucking loves it. He’s a loaded dude so sending you some money to buy the next “it” lingerie is absolutely worth it in his opinion.

He’ll almost always in return send you videos of him pathetically jerking off his cock and whining so girlishly into the phone about what you do to him and what he’s going to do to you when he gets his hands on you.

The phone sex is downright sinful: it just exists of nasty squelching noises; you making sure Satoru can hear how wet he makes you and vise versa with him.

It gets to the point where he literally flies out to see you, he needs you in his embrace immediately and so damn badly, he’s straining in his pants thinking about your cute self.

When you see him, you figure out how really awkward he is, you have to carry the conversations but you don’t mind at all! It’s so cute seeing him stutter in your presence trying to formulate a sentence.

That night you two really can’t wait, fucking each other the same day you finally see one another is needed.

Satoru fucks you like he doesn’t even know you, his cock filts inside you so fucking nicely, he’s not big but he makes up for it with his speed and the way he’s perfectly hitting that sweet spot inside of you. You’re practically dripping and gripping his cock no not practically: you are.

As much as he tries to put on a big front while destroying you, you know he’s just a sensitive thing that’s holding his orgasm for you, it’s not long before he’s cumming into the condom with a drawn out groan before you. He gets hard again pretty quickly and after a quick pause he pushes inside your cunt again, wanting to do it all over again.

He also tries his hardest to not drool all over your neck, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself!

Play with Me!

Summary: Interactive SMUT with submissive Miguel! Choose your path! A/N: me when i forgor Art: Andalusia on twt! <<Prev Next>>

-flip him and ride him! take back what's yours! [SELECTED] -let him do the work! turn off your brain!

You wipe the globs of his cum off your lips before using all your strength to flip him over on his back. It was surprisingly easy, Miguel gasping and shivering when you straddle above him. He instinctively bucks his hips up, his cock twitching against your ass. Miguel’s gaze falls to your hips, hands finding purchase in the plushness of it. But you rip his hands off you, lacing your fingers with his and pinning them above his head. Miguel can’t help but moan, biting his lips and cheeks flushing a deep red at being helpless under you. You lift your hips up as you turn your head to look back. Miguel looks with you, watching as you tease him by sliding down only at the tip before slipping back out. Miguel groans, arching his back and thrusting upwards–a squelching sound of his cock penetrating your saliva and precum soaked folds.

Your nails dig into the back of his hand, Miguel groaning and writhing to run from the pain. He looks up at you with hazy eyes, glossy and foggy with desire. He pants softly, hearing his heartbeat in his ears and he licks his lips. Miguel feels you slip off of him, a plea hanging on his tongue.

“Please, please, please, no, no, no, no…” He babbles, his words slurring and voice cracking as he begs. He shakes his head, sweaty strands of brown wavy hair stick to his temple and forehead, a slight bead of sweat resting on his furrowed eyebrows. 

Ever so gently, you slip on and off of him—but only his tip. His poor swollen, aching and creaming tip. Miguel slams his head back into the pillow with a frustrated moan. Crossing his wrists together, you use one hand to keep them pinned above his head while your other—now free—hand to place over his abdomen where the patch of his happy trail is.

You can feel his muscles contracting underneath his warm skin, caving in as you slowly tease his tip. 

Miguel continues to babble and complain. “Not enough.” He says, swallowing the drool that would’ve escaped his mouth. He begs for more, weakly tugging against your hand that keeps him pinned. His chest heaves up and down, his hips bucking.

Your free hand comes up to pinch his nipple, Miguel crying out, his body shivering. 

“Stay still.” You mutter, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly. 

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” He sighs shakily. Miguel hums when he feels your lips on him, his toes curling and uncurling as he tries to focus on not thrusting up into you.

“I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, I promise.” He whispers desperately.

“Mm, you said that before…” You mumble and lift off his tip with a wet shlick.

Miguel purses his lips, arching his head up and veins popping out his neck. He exhales slowly and through his teeth with a hiss. 

“I-I know, I know—“ He groans. “But I mean it this time, believe me—“ Miguel watches as you lean down to where your noses are just barely touching. You could feel his soft but jagged breathing.

“Te lo juro, mi amor. Swear on it, just fuck me, please.” He whimpers. “Take me, use me. I just need you.” Tears well up in his eyes, his heart pounds wildly in his chest, body twitching with anticipation.

You uncross his wrists and lace your fingers with his. You bring them down so that he’s resting his hands by each side of his head. Using that, you anchor yourself to sink down on his cock. 

He chokes, eyes casting downwards to watch your pussy stretch to accommodate his size. Miguel’s entire body tenses, forcing himself down so as to not shove up inside you. He kind of likes this though—your tight hole taking all of him and sliding down easily. 

Still, he pants under his breath, wheezing and feeling the blood rush throughout his body. His hands squeezed yours as he let out a whimper, teary eyes meeting your hazed ones.  His pathetic moans rang out while you slowly fucked yourself on his cock, your lips capturing his. Miguel screws his eyes shut, weakly kissing back as your tongue invades his mouth. Miguel quivers underneath you, his cock throbbing and twitching against your walls.

He knows not to speak, the complaint about speed on the tip of his tongue. Miguel whines weakly with each agonizingly slow roll of your hips. He can feel you pulsating and gripping him.

You on the other hand, let go of his lips, watching them plump up ever so slightly from making out. Your mouth trails along his cheek and jawline, the soft feeling making Miguel’s body twitch. He flexes his fingers, breath uneven while you play around with his nerves.

Your mouth reaches down to his collarbone, wrapping around his skin to suck and bite on it. Miguel arches his back with a plea of your name, his cock throbbing and bucking against your walls. Your hands squeeze his, to remind him of who he is–what he’s supposed to do. Miguel turns his head, trying to bury his face in the pillow as best as he can. He knows one look at you–your eyes and how they darken at him, wanting and waiting to devour him and his sweet reactions– and he’ll explode. He feels your hips raise up, your wetness coating his aching and hard cock–beads of precum dribbling out– and he quivers. You tease his leaking tip, fucking yourself on the engorged weeping top while Miguel squeezes your hands tightly enough for his talons to come out and gently pierce your skin. Your lips suck around his nipple, your tongue flicking and swirling around the nub which makes him arch his back with a whine. His hips buck up, forcing his dick to penetrate you again and it prompts you to moan and bite down on his nipple. He cries, feeling an electric shock shoot down to his groin. You keep pinning his hands to the bed while you begin to rut your hips against his, moving between a fast and slow pace that sends his heart racing and complaints falling from his lips. The slow build up is enough to make his balls tighten, blood rush down to his throbbing length. He huffs and he puffs, chest heaving with each breath, sweat dripping down his brown skin and hair slicked to his forehead. Still, he has half a mind to hold his hips while your ass smacks down with each slap. His legs shake and he makes the biggest mistake of looking at how your pussy wraps around him. Your cunt swallows every inch of him, a glimpse of a wet, sticky mess before enveloping him again. His eyes bob up and down as he watches you work to chase your high, his lips parted and cheeks hot to the touch. His vision is cloudy and he lolls his head up to see the pleasure etched on your face. Perfect lips bitten between your teeth right before squeaking or moaning when the blunt head of his tip nudges against your sweet spot. Tits bouncing and he wants nothing more than to bury his face in them–he’s desperate to please you again, to make you cum faster. The image–the want– is too much for him. Miguel cries out with a piercing scream, eyes rolling up to the ceiling as his fangs pierce down into his bottom lip to minimize his sounds of pleasure. His body trembles with each wave of his orgasm, thick spurts of his cum shooting inside your tight walls and then dripping out of it. His cream flows down his length, coating his cock and balls with his own mess.

The feeling makes him quiver along with the soft thrust of you pressing down on him. He gasps for a deep breath as he looks up at you, mouth dropped open and begging for a kiss.

And so you lean down, capturing his lips into a heated kiss. He moans in delight, trying his best to lean up and deepen it. Your lips drag off his to kiss down to his chin and jawline. Your mouth caresses the shell of his ear.

“Can I trust you?” You hum. 

Miguel, in his haze, nods. His voice croaks as he speaks. “Yes…yes…” 

Your hands leaves his, Miguel unclenching his grip and he relishes in the feeling of your hands running down his chest. 

“Don’t touch me.” You whisper and then place your hands firmly on his stomach, lifting your hips and slamming back down.

Miguel chokes on his moans, grabbing onto the pillow underneath his head and digging his nails into the fabric. He screams, chest arching up but he feels you hold most of him down with your hands as you begin bouncing above him.

He shouts curses and whines, rolling his head back all while shamelessly moaning. He writhes behind you, his cock sensitive after just cumming inside you. He whines your name pathetically after each slam of your hips, your warm cunt surrounding him in a wet squelch.

It’s painful but it feels so good, he can’t help but grow aroused once more—the pleasure is dizzying. 

You use him just like he said he would, slipping on and off his cock with abandon, grunting and sighing as he fills you over and over. You can feel the stretch of his length as it grows hard again, his tip nudging the same G-spot over again. His leftover cum spills out of you slowly, sticking to your pussy and connecting it to his lap in a heap of white slick. Skin slaps against skin, each thrust sends a wave of ecstasy to your core that makes you clench around him.

Miguel’s legs shakes and he sobs, eyes unfocused while his balls tighten up to cum again.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum, oh God.” He babbles, screwing his eyes shut and moaning to the heavens. 

You press down on his stomach and he instinctively caves in, another wave of pleasure washing over him. “Wait.” You pant, halting your bouncing to grind your clit in him in circles.

Miguel uses it as a breather even though the build up of a climax has faded painfully. His red, sweat stricken face falls onto your body on top of him and he curses himself over not being able to touch you. 

He watches numbly as you grind on him, feeling his cock inside you, throbbing and twitching to cover you with his seed again. 

Miguel is snapped out of his haze when you pick yourself up again, leaning over him and gripping his shoulders for leverage while you bounce on him.

“No! Wait!” He cries out, thrashing his legs, toes curling and fingers practically tearing his pillow apart.

He can barely hear the slaps of skin echoing throughout the room while you ride him, using him as your little toy. Your hips and legs ache but you feel so close.

The bubble within you pops, your nails scratching his skin and leaving marks while you shake and moan his name. You feel your face heating up as your climax reaches its highest point. Cumming around him and dripping your juices down his length. Your pussy throbs rhythmically, clenching and unclenching around his shaft.

Meanwhile Miguel cums right after you, bringing his hand to his mouth to bite on, his fangs piercing through skin. But his moans are louder, garbling out your name and his entire body shakes. His vision goes white and it’s a slow way down from his orgasm. His cock aches painfully as it shoots another load inside your wet pussy, painting you walls and flooding down into more of a mess between his legs. 

Miguel heaves, numb and weak as he blinks lazily. His eyelids are heavy but he feels content. You move his hand from his mouth, jaw slack and two pricked holes around his thumb—a bit of blood on his lower lip. 

You smile weakly, shakily pulling yourself off him to which Miguel groans at. His cock flops out of your pussy, glistening with all types of bodily fluids. He whimpers, his tip still leaking some leftover cum.

Your hands gently caress up and down his sides to soothe him. He looks peaceful, even a little tired. Yet, he still reaches out for you, hands trembling until they plant themselves on your waist. His thumbs gently caress your stomach, slowly sliding up to cup your breasts and squeeze them teasingly. A soft smirk is on his face when you squint down at him, Miguel innocently resting his hands at your waist. 

Maybe just one more round…but I guess it’s time to sleep…

a/n: i was not fully aware of what i was writing if im being so honest

taglist: @envyjmoney @howabouticallyou @pxtched @babyprofessorsharkpalace

when you leave in the morning w/out waking the jjk guys

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, megumi, itadori

ʚ cont: suggestiveness (heavy on geto’s), crack, fluff

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

demon slayer hcs: giyuu meeting soulmate!reader

characters: giyuu x fem!kamado!reader, tanjiro x sister!reader, nezuko x sister!reader, sanemi (mentioned), shinobu (mentioned), urokodaki (mentioned)

warnings: blood, family death, fighting, reader is the oldest Kamado sibling

AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you is tattooed somewhere on your body!! this is the longest soulmate hcs i’ve written lol

GIYUU

you decide to spend the night over at a friends house late one night

you begin the walk home the next day at around noon

and when you return home you find your entire family slaughtered, laying in pools of their own blood

and your little brother Tanjiro and little sister Nezuko are missing

in tears, wondering what the hell happened and where your siblings are, you fail to notice the men and women approaching your home

when they get to you they explain who they are

they are the kakushi for the demon slayer corps

they check you for injuries and explain what had happened

a demon attacked your family

and your missing brother and sister are most likely dead

in a fit of rage the need for vengeance fills you

and you ask how you can become a slayer

the kakushi bring you to the butterfly mansion where you meet the head of the demon slayer corps

and filled with sympathy for you but sensing your potential, he assigns a hashira to be your mentor

and not just any hashira

The Wind Hashira

Sanemi Shinazugawa

the hot headed hashira with the deepest hatred for demons, the harshest training, and an undeniable disliking towards the water hashira, whom you haven’t met

with just a month of training, you’re headed to the Final Selection

unsurprisingly, due to your training with sanemi, you pass with flying colors

over the course of the next year, you practically fly up the ranks

being sent on several missions, training with sanemi, and of course, still grieving the loss of your siblings, Tanjiro and Nezuko

you become friends with most of the hashira due to your status of being the wind hashira’s tsuguko

but still not meeting the infamous water hashira that your teacher seems to hate

it isn’t until you receive a letter from the previous water hashira, Sakonji Urokodaki

that everything changes

he has heard of your fast progress and skill

and when hearing your last name, he realized that his newest student is your family

your little brother is alive

he passed the final selection

and he’s currently on a mission

a mission that several slayers have died on

a mission that required two hashira due to the amount of casualties

after reading the letter you practically fly out of the wind hashira’s estate

abandoning your daily training

barely hearing Sanemi’s outraged and confused yelling at your departure

running as fast as possible toward the forest that Tanjiro is supposed to be stationed in

you arrive

quickly taking off the head of a demon with the flick of your wrist as you pass by

faintly seeing the outline of a man with a mismatched haori in the corner of your eye

but continuing forward

toward your brother

faster

faster..

even faster…

you arrive

arrive just in time to block the killing blow heading towards your brother..

standing in front of Tanjiro in a defensive position with your back to him

your eyes lock onto the demon that was attacking your brother

Lower Rank 5

one of the twelve kizuki

you are so focused that you can barely hear Tanjiro whisper your name in shock

surely he thought you were dead

turning your head to softly smile at him over your shoulder you say,

“it’s alright, tanji. i’m here now.”

then, you feel a drop land on your face

a drop of blood

you look up to find your baby sister

covered in blood and tangled in the demons webs

a demon herself

in shock you stammer her name

this distraction gives lower rank 5 the opportunity to attack

he launches an attack toward you

you don’t have the time to block it

but you don’t have to

the man you caught a glimpse of earlier with the checkered haori leaps in front of you, blocking the strike

with him taking on the demon, you take the chance to leap into the air and cut the webs holding your sister

catching her as she falls, you can’t tear your eyes from her demonic form

Urokodaki did NOT mention this in his letter to you…

looking up at the sound of a head hitting the floor you realize that the man had delivered the killing blow to the attacking demon

as he turns to walk towards you and your sister, sword at the ready, nezuko stands in front of you defensively

“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER” you plead, practically in tears

his eyes widen in shock

shock from the revealed information perhaps?

possibly from pity…?

or… is that… realization?

and then, in a split second he moves behind you

and the loud ‘clang’ of two swords colliding reach your ears

he had blocked the sword of another hashira

Shinobu, the insect hashira had attempted to take the life of your little sister

realizing that he was defending you, you took the chance

grabbing your brother and sister by the hand you run

and you keep running until you hear a crow telling you to report to the butterfly mansion with your brother and sister in tow

as you begin the journey to the butterfly mansion, tanjiro informs you of the events he experienced over the last year

in turn, you tell him of your experiences

arriving at the mansion, you are greeted with the sight of the hashira

normally, you would greet the people you call friends but today they are against you

when choosing between your family or your friends

you would choose your family, everytime

glancing between the highly ranked slayers, you see the quiet man in the mismatched haori

and since the only hashira that you haven’t met is the water hashira

you can safely assume that it’s him

when the meeting starts the master announces that both Urokodaki and Giyuu Tomioka have both put their lives on the line to vouch for Nezuko

Giyuu…

that’s his name.

the appreciation and admiration that surges through you at hearing the way he is supporting your sister is unreal

but your admiration is stopped in its tracks by the arrival of your mentor

you physically wince at Sanemi’s hard gaze, drawing an almost unnoticeable puzzled look from Giyuu

after the meeting ends and after a rather loud scolding from Sanemi

you turn to Giyuu and express how thankful you are for his help, and for his support for your sister

and he speaks to you for the first time,

“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”

at his words, your heart stops

time freezes

your own wide eyes staring up into his calm ocean blue eyes in shock

you are physically frozen in shock

feeling the eyes of the other hashira staring at him he grabs you by the shoulder and leads you away from the prying gaze of the slayers

and then steps away, turning his back to you and pulling his hair over his shoulder exposing the back of his neck to you

exposing his soulmate tattoo to you

“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER”

printed in your very own handwriting on his pale skin

you somewhat recover from your shock, softly tapping his shoulder to have him face you

and then copying his actions, you turn your back to him exposing the words printed onto your own neck

“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”

sanemi was NOT happy to hear that his tsuguko is giyuu’s soulmate

“WHERE IS MY WIFE?”

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: curses & curse users have discovered satoru’s greatest weakness, and it’s you, satoru’s sweet, ordinary housewife. after getting kidnapped by gojo’s enemies, he’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: 18+ only - mdni - slightly dark content // brief smut, fem reader, feral gojo, canon-typical violence, reader gets kidnapped, reader is wounded/has injuries, angst, fluff/comfort

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5K

♡ —𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I’d count grains of sand if it meant I could spend one minute alone with feral gojo (:

As evening fell, and after a delicious dinner was eaten at the dining table downstairs, Satoru was in the mood for something else now — you.

His pretty housewife would be his dessert.

The apple pie you baked was sitting on the dark marbled counter of the kitchen island, two big slices missing — and the vanilla ice cream tub in the freezer had, of course, two hefty spherical digs in it where the cold treat was scooped out — but, even after his stomach was stuffed after a hard day of fighting curses and teaching his students, Satoru’s head was buried in between your soft thighs, satisfying his other craving.

As your husband moaned softly, his tongue danced around your aching clit. His large hand massaged your thigh. The moonlight pouring in through the big bedroom window shined upon his wedding ring, making it glisten as he rubbed your delicate skin.

“I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” Satoru smiled a bit, his warm breath patting against your wet folds.

“You were made just for me. God, I love it. I love you.”

Two long fingers sunk into your awaiting hole. He attached his soft lips to your clit, sucking on it.

One of your hands gripped at the luxurious pale-cerulean sheets, while your other hand gripped his hair, fingers getting lost in his white locks.

“Satoru!” A sharp moan escaped your dried throat.

Every little noise you made — every moan, every squeak of the thick mattress — it all boasted his desire to please you.

He didn’t stop his licking-sucking-fingering combo until your legs were trembling around his head and he was satisfied with tasting your juices.

Only after devouring your pussy like a starving man feasting on a buffet-style dinner did he rise from his position and make his way across the bed, hovering over you.

With a smile, Satoru leaned down and planted a soft kiss against your lips. But, when he pulled away, he was met with an amused look of disgust.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, furrowing his brows a bit.

“You just kissed me after eating me out,” you said with a little, playful grimace. “That’s nasty.”

“Mrs. Gojo, I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but hush.” Satoru lightly tapped your forehead. “You have swallowed plenty of my-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” shaking your head, you cut off your husband’s naughty sentence, pressing your hand against his lips.

The corners of your mouth burned as you tried to fight off a smile. His latest affectionate nickname was Mrs. Gojo — although it truly wasn’t a nickname due to it technically being your name now — and at every given opportunity, he addressed you that way.

Even after two years of marriage, he was as excited as a freshly wedded man. Your love was a never-ending honeymoon.

You stared into Satoru’s striking blue eyes. He darted his gaze across your gorgeous face, illuminated by the moonlight, and as you ran your fingers through his white hair and he ran his thumb across your cheek, both of you close enough to feel the gentle pats of each other’s breaths on your mesmerizing faces, you both fell in love with each other just a bit more — if that was even possible.

“Can I fuck you now?”

Satoru’s question made a sudden chuckle spilled out from between your lips. He couldn’t help but laugh too.

“You’re a buffoon. I’m trying to admire your beauty and that’s what you open your mouth to say?” You playfully frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a human being call another human being a buffoon out loud before.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes humorously. “We need to do our skincare routine first. We have to do it an hour before we go to bed or else we might just rub all the product off. I read that somewhere.”

“Why didn’t we do it before we got into bed in the first place?” Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck, pouting, but taking a moment to press a little kiss onto your skin.

“Because you were acting as if you were dying of poison and eating me out was the antidote, so I forgot.” you giggled softly.

“Fine, fine,” your husband slowly rolled off of you in defeat. “Skincare routine, nothing more. Please don’t start trying to organize the bath towels.”

“I’m not making any promises,” you said, getting out of bed and following Satoru into the master bathroom.

There, you and your husband stood in front of the big mirror, cleansing and moisturizing your skin as you both chatted about his students, a movie you watched three days ago, and your breakfast plans in the morning.

And it was those sweet little moments that made Satoru’s heart skip a beat. As he flickered his eyes over to your reflection, watching your smother smooth white cream all over your face as you rambled on about a new egg recipe, he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved you.

—

6:00 A.M.

That night ended with soft sex and gentle kisses.

That morning, Satoru’s white eyelashes fluttered open to the early morning sun starting to rise, casting rays through the drawn window curtains and across his comforter.

He squinted his eyes and yawned.

Typically, he was the sort of man who would never wake up at the ungodly hour if he could help it, but the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee and sizzling eggs had traveled from the kitchen downstairs to right underneath his nose.

Tossing on his blue houseboat, the grumpy-faced man dragged himself into the kitchen, greeting you with a slightly gruff morning voice and a messy head of hair.

“Good morning, baby,” Satoru walked around the kitchen island and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. “How’d you sleep? I had a nightmare.”

With a spatula in one hand, you flipped the omelet in the skillet on the six-burner stove. With the other hand, you rubbed his arm, enjoying the warmth his hovering hug had brought.

“I slept alright,” you said. “Did the smell wake you up?”

“Always does,” he smiled lazily although you couldn’t see it.

“Well, your drink’s ready,” you gave a nod in the general direction of the silver espresso machine, which hummed as it brewed Satoru’s steamy beverage.

“I don’t deserve you,” Satoru’s arms hugged you tighter, and he showered the side of your head with kisses.

“Stop it,” your sweet laughter only egged him on as you clenched the spatula and leaned back against him even more. “No fooling around when we’re this close to the stove.”

Satoru eventually backed away after giving you one final kiss against your forehead temple.

“If all goes well, I should be back home tomorrow before dark, then we can check out that new restaurant. What do you say? I personally think it’s time for a date.”

The image of you and Satoru sipping on wine and as you wore your favorite dress flashed in your mind, and you smiled. A date night was certainly something to look forward to in light of Satoru’s overnight trip.

Sorcering duties had often taken him on distant work trips. Truth be told, you were lucky his departure would only last around twenty-four hours and not twenty-four days. Although you missed him whenever he would leave, you understood his choice of career. He was a hero.

You happened to be an ordinary human being. You couldn’t see curses. You couldn’t use cursed energy or cursed techniques, but you were fine with that.

“A date sounds fun! I’m excited now.” You took the omelet out of the skillet and placed it on a nearby plate. “And we’re making time to try out that new pottery class too. It sounds like such a cute date idea, don’t you think so?”

“I’m with you. I’ll make the reservations for the restaurant, you can schedule us for pottery-making.” This time, he was the one blissfully picturing you and him spinning messy clay with him sitting behind you and reaching around your body for the pottery wheel, your fingers intertwined as you both created a pot. Satoru smiled at the thought. “Anyway, now that you’re done cooking, can I kiss you?”

You nodded with a cheeky grin, and your husband pressed his lips against yours sweetly.

It was as if some part of him was frightened that he would never get the opportunity to kiss you again.

—

8:37 P.M.

The bright light far above your head flickered briefly as you stood in the pasta aisle at your local grocery store, but you hadn’t noticed it, too fixated on the different brands of spaghetti noodles lying on the shelf above you.

Shopping at night wasn’t preferable, but only after tossing together a simmering pan of sauce did you realize you hadn’t started boiling your noodles yet.

And, with your pot of simmering water ready, you opened the cabinet to see no noodles.

So, here you were, making a last-minute, unplanned trip to the grocery store.

By now, the only sort of pasta noodles left were the ones that a person of average height couldn’t reach. Every box was too high.

You turned your head to the left and to the right.

You even bothered to walk down a few aisles to search for an employee or anyone who might have been tall enough to reach your needed item, but the only other person staggering around was an older blonde-haired woman who was shorter than you were.

Frowning in frustration, you returned to the pasta aisle.

If you had to climb the shelves, so be it.

Suddenly, a kind voice spoke over the calming public-friendly background music playing softly in the store.

“Need some help?”

Whipping your head around, you saw a person — a taller person, thank goodness — who had a smile that was just as sweet as his voice.

“Yes, thank you!” You found that his grin was rather contagious, as you ended up smiling as well. “I just need the spaghetti noodles on the top shelf. Any brand will do.”

The beaming man with long, dark hair stepped forward, and you moved to the side, letting the apparent hero save your day.

He pulled down your desired spaghetti noodles with ease.

“Thanks for your help. My spaghetti sauce won’t go to waste now,” you said politely.

Your eyes darted up to the stitched scar across his forehead, then quickly, you glanced away.

“You’re welcome. Have a good night.”

The man walked down the aisle and left.

There was something familiar about him, oddly enough.

That hair . . . that smile . . .

He reminded you of an old, deceased friend of Satoru’s, one that you hadn’t ever met due to his villainous behavior before his death, but you had seen an old picture of him that he and your husband took during their second year at Jujutsu High, years ago.

As you placed the pasta noodles into your cart, making your way around different aisles to collect a few more items since you were already at the store, you decided that you’d take another look at that photograph once you arrived home, just for peace of mind.

The brown paper bag stuffed with groceries felt rather heavy as you walked down the street, which was brightened by light pouring out of the windows of local businesses that hadn’t yet closed.

You sighed softly.

The dark sky was sparkling with stars. The air was cool and comforting. Soon, you’d have pasta, and perhaps, you’d watch a few episodes of your favorite binge-worthy Netflix show.

If only Satoru was with you.

Chatting with him on the phone a few hours ago only made you miss him even more, but, at least his trip would be a quick one, and soon, you could have dinner with him and listen to his hilarious commentary as you watched television together.

After walking for around five minutes, you were no longer close to the local businesses that made you feel a sense of comfort during your evening stroll.

Now, you had to rely on the occasional streetlight to guide you home.

But that cold air was no longer comforting. It was a chilling breeze that made you clench your grocery bag a bit tighter.

Your footsteps suddenly halted — you could hear something moving in the nearby bushes.

Turning around, you were greeted with nothing but darkness and streetlights. No one else was with you. You kept walking.

However, something wasn’t right.

You might not have been a sorcerer, but you weren’t a fool.

And you had a gut-wrenching feeling that right now, as your wobbly legs guided you home, you were being watched.

You heard that noise again.

The grocery bag crinkled against your chest. You were certain that the bread you purchased was squished by now. If someone was following you, did you really want to unintentionally lead them to your home?

Where should you go? What should you do?

A tear rolled down your cheek from fear.

You were scared. You only wanted to go home, finish your pasta, and watch television.

You didn’t want to deal with such a potentially terrifying situation.

Pulling out your phone, you opened your dial screen.

Your trembling thumb hovered over the buttons, but before you could press anything, a black, disfigured curse appeared in front of you, screeching loudly enough to make you drop everything in your hands and cover your ears, more tears falling as the horrifying monster started to charge at you.

You tried to run in the other direction, but it was too late.

The last thing you saw before you were engulfed by darkness was that man from the grocery store standing on the sidewalk, that same sweet smile on his familiar face.

—

12:27 A.M.

Satoru’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, as he had spent most of the night tossing and turning because you weren’t lying next to him. But, apparently, he did manage to catch a couple of hours of shut-eye.

When he awakened, there was a terrible ache in his heart. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, and beads of sweat decorated his forehead. His throat was dried to a crisp.

He was all alone in his dark hotel room.

He couldn’t hear you.

He couldn’t see you.

And yet, somehow, someway, thanks to his great power, he knew that his wife was calling for him.

—

The overwhelming scent of old, wet, musky wood and dust would never be forgotten by your memory. A lifetime of therapy would never be able to erase the paralyzing fear you felt, sitting on the cold, hard ground of an abandoned cabin with your hands bound behind your back.

Maybe the fear wasn’t completely paralyzing, though. Your body seemed to tremble with terror just fine.

The sight of it made Suguru Geto — no, Kenjaku chuckle.

He kept his eye on you for no other reason besides his entertainment, as watching you himself was pointless considering he had two frightening curses looming over you.

Once, Satoru shared a fun fact with you: regular human beings cannot see curses unless they are about to die.

That fact was certainly interesting when the two of you were strolling through the beautiful park, a red and white striped blanket in your hand and a picnic basket in his. But, now, that fact only made sweat drip off of your scarred forehead, because you could see the two, black, disfigured curses.

It was a telltale sign that you could die.

“I haven’t had the displeasure of meeting him myself,” Kenjaku suddenly spoke, relaxing in a chair he had positioned a few feet away from the corner you were trapped in. “But I have seen memories of Satoru Gojo that belonged to this body I’ve inhabited. And, I must say, I couldn’t imagine that his wife would be such a weakling. It’s truly pathetic.”

Even if you wanted to reply to him, fear had snatched away your ability to speak. It created a lump in your throat that couldn’t be swallowed down.

“My best guess is that he needs someone boring and ordinary in his life to keep house while he’s busy saving the world. You’re just the cook and maid with a ring on her finger, hm?”

“He loves me.”

Your voice was small — it was a painfully perfect reflection of how you felt on the inside. Weak and pathetic.

“Oh?” Kenjaku raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly. “Believe it or not, I hope you’re right, or else kidnapping you was a waste of time.”

Your chains rattled as you shifted in your spot on the floor, scooting as far into the corner as you could get. An ache shot up your spine from the wall pressing into your back. Pulling your knees to your chest, more tears slipped from your eyes.

“Aw, don’t cry,” he falsely cooed. “Surely you’ve wondered why the world’s strongest sorcerer would settle for someone who forgets to double-check all of their ingredients before they start cooking, haven’t you? It’s not because of love, or anything of the sort. It’s because those who are deeply insecure would do anything to please anyone who looks their way. Only an ordinary, desperate housewife with low self-esteem and no ambition would waste time caring for a man who risks his life saving strangers. What would make you think he cares for you when he spends more time with curses than his own wife? Helping strangers more than his own family? Think about it.”

Kenjaku’s hurtful words were met with silence, but he didn’t stop speaking.

“I bet you’re nothing but a burden to him. Someone like him probably hates being tied down, but marrying a fool who contributes nothing to society is the only way he can get someone else to handle his laundry while he’s busy working hard, hm? He must carry around divorce papers, ready to serve them to you the day you forget to buy detergent from the grocery store.” Kenjaku’s smile brightened. “Oh, that reminds me. You dropped your detergent and other groceries on the road earlier, by the way. Looks like you’re useless now.”

“You . . .” your teary eyes flickered from him to the hovering curses. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. None of that’s true.”

“You have to believe that I’m speaking honestly, Y/N.” Kenjaku sighed with fake sincerity. “My entire plan rests on the hope that Satoru Gojo is foolish enough to try to rescue you. You see, when you want to lure someone out, the proper way to do it is by discovering their weaknesses. When I found out about you, I was hoping that you would be his weakness. That I could use you to lure him out. Then I met you, and, well, you’re simply disappointing. Sorry to break it to you, but I have memories of the old conversations Satoru used to have with Suguru, and being tied down to a powerless housewife was certainly not how he imagined his future. But, I figured I’d try anyway, and so here you are, and he’s not here to rescue you. What a shame. I bet he’s hoping I’ll kill you so he’ll be free.”

He was lying. He had to be. Satoru loved you more than anything . . . right?

The thought had crossed your mind before; why did Satoru want to be with someone powerless? And this villain’s plan to lure out your husband relied on his hope that he’d come to rescue you out of love, so how would it benefit him to convince you Satoru didn’t love you?

Maybe he was right.

After all, if Satoru cared for you, he would have saved you by now. Where was he?

You couldn’t help but cry even harder.

“Please let me go home,” your tears clouded your vision. “Please let me go.”

“Well, you should know that I hate wasting time,” Kenjaku rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow pressing into the arm of the chair he sat in. “I can’t let you leave. I won’t let the effort I put into kidnapping you be a total waste.”

Kenjaku’s smile widened, and suddenly, the curses started to move towards you.

—

1:45 A.M.

The subway station was isolated. No ordinary human beings were lurking around, and Satoru was relieved. Right now, he’d kill anyone who looked at him the wrong way.

His shoes gently shuffled against the ground as he made his way into the middle of the big, bright opening, and he clenched his fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palm, hard enough to draw blood.

Two special grade cursed spirits emerged. He recognized them both from a previous fight in the woods.

Volcano head. Asparagus.

“Satoru Gojo,” Jogo suddenly said. “We didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to-”

“Where is my wife?”

When Satoru interrupted the curse, his voice was low. Dark. Startling.

Blood dripped from his palms and splattered onto the ground.

“I was drawn here, but she isn’t here, is she? Where is she? Tell me now, and I’ll kill you quickly instead of slowly.”

Jogo chuckled a bit. Satoru dug his nails into his palm even more.

“Bring us the vessel, Yuji Itadori, and we’ll return that worthless-”

The two curses didn’t have time to blink — weren’t able to register in their minds that Satoru had moved from his previous spot until Jogo was lifted off of the ground and thrown into the flickering light fixture above, shattering it and causing sparks to rain down onto the ground below, where he then fell.

Satoru stepped on Jogo’s head, squishing it underneath his black shoe.

“I remember you. You’re stubborn, right?” Satoru gritted his teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are to take her from me? Whoever you work for must want you dead if they’re stupid enough to send you on a suicide mission. You think I’ll let you leave here alive after this?”

“If you kill us, you’ll never see her again,” the other cursed spirit, Hanami, suddenly spoke up. “Bring us the vessel, and she lives.”

When Satoru suddenly stopped moving, it was only to ensure that he had heard the cursed spirit correctly.

“Did you just threaten . . .” Satoru removed his blindfold, “to kill my wife?”

It was only a matter of time before the branches attached to Hanami’s head were ripped out, and Jogo was beheaded. The subway was reduced to nothing except crumbling walls and darkness. While the cursed spirits were teetering dangerously between life and death, there wasn’t a scratch on Satoru. Instead, there was a smile.

This was simply the consequence of their actions. This was what happened to anyone who laid a hand on his girl.

Hanami’s body was on the brink of collapse as it was forced to come in contact with Satoru’s cursed technique — a blue shield-like piece of infinity that distorted and manipulated both time and space, protecting the sorcerer from attacks and rendering Hanami powerless.

Hanami’s eyes darted over to their beheaded ally — they couldn’t help him.

“I’m going to ask you one last time,” Satoru’s eyes widened. His smile grew. He slowly turned, facing Hanami, and blasted him back against the nearest wall without lifting a finger. “Where is my wife?”

—

2:39 A.M.

Kenjaku had never understood the concept of love, and, perhaps, that was why he failed.

Satoru’s love for you was his weakness, that was true, but it also turned out to be his greatest strength, and this was a fight Kenjaku couldn’t win.

Not today.

One of his curses, which had been traveling to and fro to observe what was currently taking place in the subway station and reporting it back to Kenjaku, had informed him that Jogo and Hanami were on the brink of death.

He couldn’t lose them yet. They were too powerful, and he needed their help for his future plans.

Kenjaku left the cabin, taking his curses with him.

And, without their cursed energy purposely making it difficult for Satoru to find you, he was able to pinpoint your exact location.

It appeared in his powerful mind as he was ripping Hanami apart limb by limb, and he wasn’t a fool. He didn’t know who was behind all of this, but it was clear that the mastermind had suddenly decided to let your whereabouts be tracked down in order to save Hanami and Jogo.

He didn’t want to make that deal. He wanted to kill these two, bring them back to life, and kill them over again. Their pain brought him joy, all because they took part in your capture.

But Satoru didn’t want his bloodlust to backfire. After all, if he killed the cursed spirits now, the person who held you captive could change their mind and move you someplace else and hide your location yet again, or, worse — they could kill you.

That wasn’t a chance he was willing to take.

Satoru stopped using his technique. But, as he left the subway station, he promised himself that eventually, he would kill those two. He would kill anyone and everyone involved.

But you came first.

You would always come first.

—

He found you.

When Satoru kicked open the door belonging to a raggedy, abandoned cabin, the scent of blood overwhelmed him. It dirtied his boots as he kneeled by your side. Your unconscious, bleeding body was lying there, simply left on the ground as if you were nothing.

“Y/N . . .” Satoru called out breathlessly.

He took the chains off of you instantly, his bloodshot eyes darting over every gaping wound.

It was indescribable — the anger he felt. He wanted to return to the subway and finish off those cursed spirits, to make them suffer and suffer and suffer.

But tending to you took priority right now. Satoru scooped up your broken and bruised body, holding you as softly as he could. A tear fell from his eye, splattering against your cheek.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay,” he spoke gently.

Your eyelids fluttered as you awakened. An overwhelming sense of pain slammed into you once you regained consciousness, and hot tears streamed down your cheeks. Prior to this, the only pain you had ever known was the wholesome body ache from tripping and falling while playing outside with your friends as a child. But this level of misery took away your ability to speak. Left you wondering if you were going to die.

You could make out stains of your blood on Satoru’s clothes.

Even so, you could tell based on the pained look on his face that he was suffering even more just from seeing you in such a condition.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he mumbled, slowly getting off the ground as he carried you. “This is all my fault. They did this to you because of me. I’m so sorry.”

Satoru raised you a bit, gently pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

He’d give anything to switch places with you right now — to be the one in unspeakable pain. Why couldn’t they have kidnapped him? Tortured him? If he had the power to take away your suffering and give it to himself, he would. For you, not only would he kill, but he’d die, repeatedly and without a second thought or a moment of hesitation.

As Satoru took you to the nearest hospital, his tears spilling onto your body, he said, “We’re almost there, okay? I promise I’ll make them pay for this, and no one will ever lay a hand on you again.”

Arriving into the uncomforting white halls of the emergency room, Satoru handed you off to the nurses and doctors who rushed up to him. But, before they placed you on the nearest stretcher, Satoru kissed your forehead once again as unconsciousness claimed you, and he whispered, “I love you, Y/N.”

—

10:02 A.M.

Two days later, you awakened in a hospital bed. This time, pain didn’t greet you, but grogginess and blurred vision. The gentle beeps from the nearby machines certainly didn’t help your pounding headache.

Your sight started to clear up after blinking a few times.

Soft strands of hair tickled your arm, and when you looked to your left, you saw Satoru slumped in a chair, his head resting in his arms on the side of your bed. You reached over and ruffled his messy white hair a bit.

He shot up, startled. His blue eyes were wide with alarm, then they softened with gratefulness, but, lastly, they darted down with sorrow.

“Y/N . . . thank god, you’re awake.” Satoru croaked out in his morning voice, clearing his throat a bit. He was dehydrated — too focused on your recovery to worry about himself. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so . . .”

Satoru got out of his chair, sat on the side of your bed, and leaned over, resting the side of his head against your chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled weakly. “It’s mine.”

Satoru pulled his head away from you, staring at you with furrowed brows and a confused gaze.

“What? No, it’s not.”

You couldn’t find the courage to look him in the eye. Kenjaku’s words replayed in your mind. They hurt just as much as getting attacked by curses.

As if reading your thoughts, Satoru cupped your chin, turning your head back in his direction.

“Look at me,” he said. “What happened wasn’t your fault. I know what you’re thinking, and I don’t care if you can’t fight curses-”

“You’re just saying that . . . because I’m kinda useful to you. But I’m easily replaceable. Speaking honestly, I’m a burden. You had to come save my life, and put yourself in danger. I’m not worth it.”

“You think I married you because you’re useful?” Hurt flashed in Satoru’s piercing eyes. “I’m in love with you, and you’ll never be a burden. I don’t care if you can’t fight curses. You’re my wife for a reason, and that’s because there’s nothing greater than seeing you get excited over finding your favorite snack at the grocery store or seeing the way you smile when your favorite scene from a show comes on, and you sit there and watch it as if you haven't seen it a thousand times. I love the way your eyes light up when you find a new activity in town for us to try, or a new book to read, or a new recipe. God, I just . . . I love you. I love you more than anything. I don’t know how you’re able to put up with someone like me. Every day I wonder how I got so lucky because I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, and I haven’t met anyone as loving as you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Do you understand me? I’d kill and die for you.”

Satoru gently wiped away the tear that fell from your eyes with his thumb.

“I love you too,” you smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “I’m sorry we missed our dinner reservations and the pottery class.”

Satoru couldn’t help but lean in and kiss your cheek.

“I’ve already rescheduled two weeks out.”

Moving away from your cheek, your husband softly kissed your lips. And while he had spent time rescheduling your date night and making sure you were receiving the excellent care you deserved while in the hospital, he was also hard at work, tracking down the monsters that dared to lay a hand on you.

He would make them suffer.

🏷️: @sad-darksoul @priv-rose @yihona-san06 @keriaonmarz @luvvmae @underworldsheiress @notgoodforlife @levisfavoriteteashop @insomniacbehaivour @preciousamethyst @kxmorrx @iwanttohitmyself @shoyosdoll @lil-apple-pie @prettypixigrl @sonarspace @averysmolbear @starstoru @starlightanyaaa @dolphin1135 @nnasv @hyunorue

I eat this shit upppp

tipping your sworn enemy’s chin up with a blade, admiring their scornful scowl, as well as the amusing blush blooming across their punchable face that follows.

seeing the way they subtly adjust their pants, attempting to hide the evidence they might not despise you as much as they want you to think.

So with the scene of Caitlyn looking at the Hexgate schematics and the final shot of the airship that glitches out I guess that counts as an ambiguous death??