Nanami: So, How's Parenthood Treating You? You: Pretty Good!! I Didn't Expect This Much Crying, Though

PENITENCE

• feeling or showing sorrow and regret for having done wrong.

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo’s demise lead him into a heart wrenching dream-like state, where all he can see is you. You and him. Him and you. People he’s lost, people he could have met.

Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, angst, mention of slight gore with Satorus injuries, Silly drabble cause i was bored, not my best work 😝

Satoru’s eyes jolt open to his heart racing, and he swears it never beat this fast before. His body feels like it weighs million and millions of pounds. He plants his hands on the ground, sensing fine grains filtering in through his fingers as he looks down, hands sinking in fine sand.

His head is spinning, his mind feels like a static. It’s like his nerves are just firing off whenever they see fit. He stands up, brushing the sand off his torso as he looks down. His shirt is torn, his stomach is a mess of blood and guts he really doesn’t wish to look at. He looks back at the sand, noticing the indent of his shape, the blood splattered across the silhouette, a menacingly sharp line of blood over his waist is the only indication of his injury.

He should have bled out. He died.

Satoru’s torso feels like it’s going to fall apart—Like some strange force is keeping him in one piece. This is all so surreal, Satoru knows it’s not reality. Its a twisted looking world, so sweet looking it makes him want to shut his eyes and ignore how much he wishes to stay. This is most definitely a dream, or the afterlife, or both. Has he really crossed to the other side to be met with just a this?

He observes the sigh of a pretty beach before him. Golden sand, a nice pink sky, calm oceans, it’s picturesque. Like a painting. He stumbles forward, trying to keep himself steady as each footstep sinks into the sand. He walks normally, not feeling any pain or discomfort. None of those stings in his lower back, not an ache in his muscles, nothing.

He walks, not seeing any difference in his surroundings. He may have zoned out a few steps in, each step so agonizingly boring he may die from that instead of the injury present on his body.

“‘Toru!” Satoru stops abruptly, eyes blown wide as he hears a voice. Your voice. You giggle so sweetly, and he looks around frantically to search for you. Any glimpse of you could make him move forward, anything to prove you’re there. Its empty, and he feels himself die a little. Such a pretty beach turned so ugly and wretched in your absence. Where the hell are you? Why won’t you run to him? He dying, for gods sake!

“Toru! Come back, don’t go yet!” Your voice speaks up, echoing in his brain as he picks up the pace, trying to search for you. Why do you sound so happy? You shouldn’t be, it’s not the right time. Satoru adores your joy, but at the sight of him split in half, you would not be giggling and calling his name. You’d be in shambles, heartbroken.

His eyes catch a glimpse of something, someone in the water. Himself? He watches his own body rise from the waves, his skin tinted pink on his shoulders, in swimming trunks and sunglasses. Sunburnt to a crisp, as usual. “Coming—“ he runs over to the shore, and Satoru stands there stunned.

What can he make of this, he doesn’t know. This other Satoru is him, and he knows it, he feels it. He’s an image in his dream. Satoru never believed himself to be so arrogant as to dream of himself all sexy coming out of the water, thats not what’s going on.

He watched the figment of himself run, and the beach seems endless until everything comes full circle. You’re on the beach towel, in your bathing suit as you chide at the sunburnt Satoru for being careless, pinching his cheek. You push him down, sitting behind him as you gently spread sunscreen on his shoulders.

Satorus breath hitches, knees feeling weak as he watches the sight in front of him. This must be hell, he’s made up his mind. Is his afterlife just him having to watch another version of himself happily in your care? it cuts him to the core.

“Y/n!” He calls out, feeling an unfamiliar throb in his abdomen. He forgets he’s dead, forgets that soon this dream, as beautiful as it is, in a twisted way, shall end. And hell fall into a twisted abyss, a cold dark sea, having failed at his duty. At being the strongest, at protecting people.

He wonders if this is karma, punishing him for his actions. Maybe in another universe, he’s as happy as the sunburnt version of him is. Laughing, smiling, spending time with you. Maybe these are versions of himself, those that didn’t die, those that got to live life to the fullest.

Your lack of a response is noted, and he continues walking, ignoring the sight as he moves forward, trying not to look back. Maybe the universe is cursing him for dying, showing him what he could have had. It feels like hes walking through millions of possibilities, each hurting just as much as the last. He walks through beaches and bedrooms, fields of flowers, wedding halls, family homes.

Another jolt of pain hits him, and he hears your voice again. He was walking trying to ignore everything, trying to power through his he sights and not make himself feel guilty for dying. He looks down, noticing bland grey tiles as your voice hits him again. So painfully beautiful.

“‘Toru, wanna hold her?”

Satoru can’t bear to look, he can’t. Seeing a possibility of that with you, its not possible. He doesn’t want to die like this, he wanted it to be peacful, filled with nothing but positive thoughts. But the ache in his heart is more than enough as he turns his head, screwing his eyes shut as he takes in a shaky breath.

He watches himself hold your baby, tears streaming down his own face as you comfort him best you can. Your daughter holds the dream-Satorus finger, fast asleep, swaddled in a pretty pink blanket. The real Satoru walks forward, staring down at the bundle of joy as another jolt hits him.

He reaches down to try and touch her, maybe get a glimpse of what could have been. Shes cute, red as a tomato, wailing like an ambulance. But she was yours, she’s yours. And he curses himself for not actually being able to experience this, envious of something that isn’t even real. His hand phases through the baby like he’s a ghost, and Satoru recoils at having his hand in your babies face. This isn’t where his place is. This is the vision of father Satoru and his baby, the mother of the little Gojo right beside him. He can’t live in their life, he can’t be the sobbing Satoru with a daughter in his arms.

Satoru steps back, trying to calm his own breathing as he begins walking again, the vision of the hospital room fading. So many versions of you two flash around him, his surroundings changing each time.

He sees more an more, from seeing Geto and Shoko, to you holding little Megumi when his leg broke as careless teenagers. To getting weird stares when you bought him clothes because people thought you were teen parents. All of it makes Satoru coil up in utter despair. He may be the strongest, but he doesn’t want to die!

He forgets how long hes been walking, a jolt of pain hitting him as he stops. A breeze washes over him, and he finds himself in a large field of white roses. The pain is getting to him, and he feels like hes been ripped apart. He has been, but thats besides the point.

He stops, eyes glued to ground. He feels as if he can see his own reflection, the ground almost mirror-like. He can’t begin to count how many lashes and gashes are on his body, the way his entire torso feels like its being held on by a thread.

would he have done things differently if he knew? Would he have joined Suguru? Made sure Haibara didn’t die? Kill Toji before he killed Riko? Destory the ugly stich faced cursed before he set Nanami ablaze?

Would he have married you if he knew he’d die? No, he wouldn’t.

As if the Satoru Gojo would leave you a widow at 27.

Would you look pretty in a wedding dress? Silly question, of course you would.

Suguru would be his best man.

Megumi would bring you your rings.

And he’d cry, he’d cry super ugly, fat tears.

But he can’t, can’t think of what else he’d do after that as he feels his body hit hard ground, feeling his body slide apart like a cartoon. This is the real world, isn’t it? Dreams don’t last forever.

His legs are gone, all he can see is the sky is a flicker of the sky, blurry and dim. Its clear, blue as his eyes. He feels warm, disgustingly at ease. He’s leaving people behind, but at last, he’s resting.

megumi’s girl

KINKTOBER II: MALE SUBMISSION ⋆⁺ sub!megumi, sub!satoru x f!reader ⋆⁺ warnings: age gap. pet play. pegging. dp. stepcest. ⋆⁺ wc: 1000

MDNI. NSFW

you’re megumi’s girl, but his stepfather ends up fancying you.

he’s brought home a few girls now, as he’s in his early twenties. mostly people who thought they were smart, some a little stuck up. and sure, they were nice enough looking, but he’s never brought home anyone like you.

you’re megumi’s girl, but satoru gojo doesn’t know how long that’ll last.

he doesn’t know how long you’ll survive in this house, with the way megumi’s eyes are always following you like he’s going to devour you. down the corridor from his bedroom, across the dining table, sometimes through the crack in the door when you’re showering.

and satoru can’t resist flirting with you now, teasing you and getting under your skin.

you’re megumi’s girl, but satoru’s not sure if you’ve even had sex yet.

the way the younger man is looking at you makes him think that you have. but someone so sweet and perfect as you– someone with that effervescent innocence– how could you give that to him?

he surmises that you wouldn’t.

you couldn’t do that– with your pretty pink lips, driving him mad with every smile, those long, dewy lashes… the way your eyes dart over his, catching his crystalline gaze.

you’re megumi’s girl, but his stepfather wants to know if you fuck.

he wants to give you a try. see if he could get you to open up, seeing as he believes megumi’s been unsuccessful in that area. he wants to find out how quickly he can get you in his bed, doing terrible things to each other.

the thought of you being 21 and him being 34 didn’t even cross his mind.

quite frankly, satoru usually sticks to women of his age range and he has his type, too. but there’s just something about you that blows all of those types out the water.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’ve got the both of them wrapped around your little finger.

and it was just so easy. watching them drool over you was divine, but now you can get what you want, when you want it. and satoru can give you just about anything– the possibilities really are limitless with him.

and megumi is so much more sweet and simple than he makes out to be.

on the surface he’s some pensive, complicated mess of a man, allowing himself occasional pleasures in his chaotic, cursed life. but beneath your touch, he melts. he loves feeling your fingers through his hair, the way you stroke behind his ear, and when you put a little collar on him.

he wants to make you proud.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re curious if his stepfather will bark for you.

you want to know if he’ll get down on all fours and humiliate himself. you want to make a fool of the honoured one.

you want to see what he’ll do when you lean over the kitchen island, exposing your ass to him and your tits to megumi.

does he dare to touch you? 

you’re basically presenting yourself to the older man, and he’s standing right behind you, staring at the way you jiggle with every jovial laugh, how your skirt has lifted to expose your stringy underwear and your socks that cling to your thighs.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re giving the curse slayer come demi-god a very hard time.

particularly in his pants. his boxers and sweatpants cling to him, pulling tight and massaging his swollen head every time he jerks his hips.

you look between megumi and satoru, down at his crotch, giggling and commenting that he’s rock hard and that megumi should watch you get him off.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’ve got his stepdaddy squirting cum through his sweats.

“nghh, haah– sweetheart, o-oh fuck– fuck me– how, how’d you—”

He’s left dazed and confused, watching drops of hot, white liquid ooze through the fabric and pool in a sticky mess over his tip.

he can’t get his words out, but he was trying to ask “how did you do that to me?”

this has never happened before. and he’ll be damned if anybody hears about it. he’s ashamed, knowing you’ve just milked him through his sweatpants with your clothed ass. 

not so honoured now, huh satoru?

you’re megumi’s girl, who used to have one puppy. now you have two.

your beautiful dark haired sorcerer– he bites sometimes. and a gorgeous, platinum haired angel with a brand new collar.

you’re telling them that “whoever acts like the cutest puppy gets dinner first, the loser gets chained up.”

you’re megumi’s girl, but satoru gojo gets to taste you first tonight.

his performance as your little pussy puppy made you giggle– he whined and let you stroke his hair, followed all of your orders, even when you commanded him to ‘speak’.

he opened his mouth and barked like a dog.

you just adored the shadow of humiliation in his eyes when he did it, encouraging you to push him further.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re currently pegging his stepfather.

and he took it so well, it made you think he’s taken it in the back numerous times before.

“i’ll let you fuck me…” was all the convincing he needed to get on the bed, ass up, face down.

you never thought he’d be so pretty down here– everything perfectly manicured, with smooth, sexy muscles rippling up his back.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’ve never been more satisfied than right now, taking satoru’s dick in the front and your boyfriend’s in the back.

his stepfather is fucking into your from below while megumi stands behind you, pushing his dick in that tight ass.

you’re megumi’s girl, but you’re taking both their cum tonight.

reaching your orgasm, both your holes twitch and squeeze, milking the two men for all they’re worth.

their heat rips through your body, making you feel so dizzy and full you’re about to black out.

you’re megumi’s girl,

but satoru gojo is your new fucktoy.

⋆⁺ [see you in hell]

satoru | megumi | m.list

chat i think they’re in love🥰🥰

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Caitlyn: My sister in law killed my mom and I'm in my lesbian dictator era

Vi: My girlfriend broke up with me right after we kissed

Jinx: I got reversed adopted by a random kid

Ambessa: *manipulating Caitlyn*

Sevika: *gambling with her new arm*

Viktor: *is Yaoi Jesus*

Jayce, Ekko and Heimerdinger: What the fuck is going on

Mel's subplot:

scientific method

imagine husband!nanami who can’t say no to you when you say “please?” with the most heart melting, unfathomably precious, pleading look ever.

“only because i love you so much.” he sighed. because he only loved you.

his hand patted the back of your thigh, before gently kneading the skin as you stood between his legs applying the pink clay mask to his face. “you almost done?” he asked, his gaze following your eyes deeply. if you hadn’t known any better, you’d think he was trying to fluster you on purpose. but really, he just adored you so much. how pretty he thought you were, and all his.

nanami truly thought you were the perfect one for him. not once had he ever thought he could meet someone as lovely as you. yet here you are, filling the hole he once had in his heart. you never needed to beg him for anything, he was always the one who begged you to let him take care of you.

“almost done, ken.” you murmured, your tongue subconsciously poking past your lips in concentration. a low chuckle rumbled from his chest, his hands moving to hold the plush of your hips. “i love you, sweetheart.”

oh. . . how much he loved the pink tint that grew on your cheeks when the words lovingly roll off his tongue, oozing out like warm honey.

you averted your gaze shyly, a habit nanami both adored and disfavored, until his thumb ran across your bottom lip to coax you into looking at him again. “i love you.” nanami repeated, a faint smile adorning his tired features. you could never get enough of him. just like how he couldn’t get enough of you.

© 2024 LUV-LIES do not plagiarize, steal, or repost my works on any platforms!

༻behind the screen༺

♡ pairing. gojo x fem! reader (au you're coworkers)

♡ summary. when a late-night swipe on an anonymous dating app leads to a sultry phone call, you think it’s the perfect way to escape your work stress—especially your infuriatingly smug coworker Gojo Satoru. but when the man on the other end starts sounding eerily familiar, secrets slip out.

♡ contents. 18+ MDNI, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, satoru is pining over you.

♡ wc. 3k

♡ a/n this was a request! it became longer than i anticipated hehe. but i had fun writing it nonetheless 💕

Gojo Satoru was used to being in control. Whether it was at work, in social settings, or just walking into a room, he was the guy who turned heads, the one who made people laugh, the one everyone gravitated toward.

Confidence was his currency, and he spent it lavishly. But around you? His brain seemed to malfunction entirely.

It was infuriating, really. He could charm anyone with a single smile, yet you—you—barely spared him a glance. And when you did, it was usually accompanied by a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

But you didn’t hate Gojo Satoru—hate was too strong a word for someone as maddeningly smug as him.

What you felt for him was more akin to the annoyance of stepping in gum on a hot summer day or spilling coffee on your favorite blouse. He was a constant presence in your life, always hovering with his stupidly perfect grin and those ridiculous quips that made your eye twitch.

And yet, to him, you were an enigma. You didn’t fall for his charm, his playful teasing, or his self-proclaimed ‘devastatingly good looks,’ and that made you a puzzle he was desperate to solve.

At first, he chalked it up to frustration. No one had ever resisted him the way you did, and it had to be a fluke. Then, the realization hit him like a freight train: he didn’t just want your attention—he wanted you.

It was a big, messy crush, and he had no idea what to do about it. Gojo Satoru didn’t pine, for god’s sake. So, he acted indifferent.

Unfortunately, his strategy was… suboptimal.

Relentless teasing. Sarcastic remarks. Even the occasional ‘accidental’ brush of his hand against yours. None of it worked. Instead of pulling you closer, it only seemed to cement your belief that he was a certified pain in the ass.

Case in point: last Friday in the break room.

“Still no boyfriend, huh?” he’d asked with a smirk, leaning casually against the door frame as if he hadn’t been plotting that line all day. “Guess guys just don’t appreciate all that… sarcasm. Or is it the constant glaring?”

The flash of irritation in your eyes was immediate and searing. He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, but instead of apologizing, he doubled down with a cocky grin. That was his defense mechanism—smugness as a shield.

You didn’t even bother to dignify him with a response. You stormed off, brushing his shoulder while your heels clicked against the floor as he stood there, internally kicking himself.

Now, as you lay in bed on a random Tuesday night, those words played on repeat in your head. It wasn’t because they hurt—of course not. But they lingered, burrowing into your thoughts like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Was that cocky ass, right? No… you could get a boyfriend… if you wanted to.

The thought made you scowl, your finger aimlessly scrolling through your phone as the glow of the screen illuminated your face.

“God, who cares what he thinks…” you groan, tossing your phone aside. But the moment you did, it buzzed, and the glow of an ad caught your attention.

A dating app. Anonymous. Discreet. Perfect for someone who wanted validation… without the strings.

“Why not?” you mutter, tapping the download button.

You didn’t expect much. Maybe a few shallow conversations, something to pass the time and make you feel less… undesirable.

Fuck it.

༻♡༺

Gojo Satoru slouched on his couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while his other hand flicked mindlessly through his phone.

The TV was on, some senseless drama he couldn’t care less about playing in the background. It was just noise, really—something to drown out the thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. Thoughts of you.

“You’re sulking,” Suguru’s voice cut through the haze, casual and smug as always. Satoru barely looked up as his best friend wandered in from the kitchen, a beer in hand.

“I don’t sulk,” his thumb swipes with more force than necessary, and the pout tugging at his lips, said otherwise.

Suguru snorted, plopping down beside him and cracking his beer open.

“Sure,” he said, leisurely taking a sip. “So, what’s your deal this time? Another tragic failure to get her attention?”

Satoru’s eyes flick up to glare at his friend, but the effect was less menacing and more petulant. He looks back at his phone, refusing to dignify that with a response. Still, his pout said everything Suguru needed to know.

“It wasn’t a failed attempt…” he grumbles after a moment. “She reacts… just… the wrong way…”

Suguru’s brow arches is amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Lemme guess… she glared at you. Again.”

Satoru was silent, staring at his phone like it might provide him with a more dignified answer, but eventually, the admission slipped out, quiet and begrudging.

“Her glare is cute…”

Suguru doesn’t miss the soft pink dusting Satoru’s cheeks, and his eyes roll so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of his head. He sets his beer down with a sigh, leaning back to rest an arm along the back of the couch.

“You’ve got it bad, man. Just confess already.”

“I can’t,” Satoru’s sigh is so dramatic it could’ve won him an award. He drops his phone onto his chest, staring up at the ceiling like it holds the secrets of the universe. “She totally hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Suguru counters. “She just thinks you’re an idiot, which—let’s be real—you kinda are.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Satoru said flatly. “Your support is truly heartwarming.”

Suguru shrugs, unbothered as always. He grabs his beer and takes another sip, eyeing Satoru like he’s both a lost cause and an endless source of entertainment.

“Y’know what your problem is?”

“Oh, please. Enlighten me,” Satoru stretches his legs out on the coffee table.

Suguru sets his can back down with a decisive clink.

“You overthink things with this girl. Maybe you need a distraction. You oughta download one of those dating apps everyone’s obsessed with. Blow off some steam.”

“A dating app?” Satoru’s nose scrunches in disgust, like Suguru had suggested he take up competitive bird watching or something.

Suguru, unperturbed, reaches over and snatches the phone off Satoru’s chest with zero hesitation. “Yep,” his fingers fly over the screen. “You’re clearly incapable of doing this on your own, so I’m doing it for you.”

“Wait, what—”

“There.” Suguru shoves the phone back into Satoru’s hands, grinning like a man who’d just solved world hunger. “All set.”

༻♡༺

That was how Satoru found himself lying in bed, staring at the app now loaded onto his phone—the bright interface practically mocking him.

A dating app? Seriously?

He was Gojo fucking Satoru. He didn’t need help in that department—if anything, people practically threw themselves at him.

And yet, here he was, thumb hovering over the ‘Get Started’ button like it was some kind of nuclear launch code.

“This is so dumb…” he mutters to himself, running a hand through his snow-white hair. But the alternative—sitting here alone and thinking about you—was worse. Much worse.

With a resigned sigh, he taps the button. The setup was painless enough, and he will admit that the app’s anonymity piqued his interest. No names, no faces, no preconceived notions—just bios and conversation. A refreshing change from his usual routine.

But once he started swiping, reality set in.

The profiles were… bland. Painfully so. If he had to read one more line about someone who ‘loves hiking and tacos,’ he was going to throw his phone across the room. Plus, the conversations he’d had were dull at best and unbearable at worst. Small talk wasn’t his thing, and most people just couldn’t seem to keep up with his wit.

Satoru was about five minutes away from deleting the app when your profile popped up. It was short, clever, and witty—his kind of humor. Intrigued, he swiped right and shot you a message.

Hours slipped away like water through his fingers. The conversation flowed so easily it was almost surreal. You didn’t tiptoe around him or try to impress him—you met his sarcasm with your own, and every jab you threw only made him want to know more.

The two of you talked about everything—movies, terrible music recommendations, the absurdity of office politics. The way you called out corporate nonsense had him laughing so hard he had to put the phone down to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him laugh like that.

God—you were funny, sharp, and quick on your feet in a way that reminded him of—

Nah…

It wasn’t you. It couldn’t be. The universe wasn’t that cruel—or that kind.

He groans, tossing his phone onto the bed and rubbing a hand over his face. His mind was betraying him again, spiraling back to you like it always does.

‘You need a distraction. Blow off some steam.’

Maybe Suguru was right. Maybe he needed a distraction. Something—anything—to get you out of his head.

As his phone buzzes with a new message, his gaze drifts back to the screen.

still there, or did I scare you off?

A slow grin spreads across his face. Whatever. Whoever you were, you had his attention. For tonight, that was enough.

Still here. Hey, can I be honest for a sec?

mmm… depends. how honest?

He smirked, typing quickly.

Well, tbh I’ve been having a tough time. Got it bad for this coworker. Total knockout, but I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m an idiot.

He hits send before he can talk himself out of it, watching the little ‘delivered’ icon appear. Your reply comes after a brief pause.

yikes… sounds complicated.

He chuckles, already typing again.

You have no idea... anyway, I figured I could use a distraction. And if I’m gonna distract myself, I’d rather do it with someone who can actually keep my interest.

There was a beat of hesitation, and then he boldly added:

Wanna have phone sex?

This time, the pause stretched longer. Long enough for him to wonder if he’d blown it. But then, his phone buzzes again.

fuck it... why not?

Grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, he hit the call button through the app. The line rang once, twice, before clicking.

“Hi…” your voice greeted him softly.

“Hey princess,” he drawled. “Thought I might’ve scared you off.”

“Oh… no,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “But I will admit, you’re straight to the point, aren’t you?”

“Always.” He leans back further, his free hand trailing lazily over his stomach. “Why waste time, right? Life’s too short for tiptoeing around.”

Ironic, considering how he seemed to do nothing but tiptoe around you—his coworker—at work. You—who always had him second-guessing himself in ways no one else ever could.

However, this wasn’t about you. This was a stranger—right? A voice on the other end of the line. That was all.

But as you laugh through the phone, he closes his eyes, letting the sound settle over him. It was nice… and familiar. Too familiar.

No.

He was imagining things. Again. His brain was playing tricks on him, twisting your voice into something it wasn’t. There was no way it was you.

“So,” he said, steering the conversation back on track. “You’ve done this before?”

“Not really,” you admit, voice dipping slightly. “Actually… no. Honestly, I haven’t. This is my first time.”

His grin widens—the cocky edge returning to his tone.

“First time, huh? Well, you’re in luck. I’m an excellent teacher.”

You let out another soft laugh, nervous but sweet, and it sends a jolt of heat straight through him. What the hell is wrong with him tonight? Your voice—soft, familiar—it feels like a melody he’s heard before.

“Is that so?” you ask, breaking his train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh… absolutely,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk. His fingers drummed against his thigh as he forced himself to focus. “Just relax, princess. Let me guide you.”

“…okay,” you whisper.

He exhales slowly, letting the tension drain from his shoulders as he shifts lower on the bed.

“Now… are you laying in your bed for me?”

“mhmm…” you hum softly.

“Mm, good girl,” he murmurs. “Alright, tell me—what are you wearing?”

“Just… an oversized shirt,” the hesitation in your voice makes him grin. “Nothing else.”

“Yeah?” his hand trails down to the waistband of his sweatpants as he closes his eyes. “That’s perfect. Makes it easy to imagine my hands slipping underneath, right up to that pretty pussy of yours...”

Your sharp inhale crackles through the receiver, and the sound sends a thrill straight to his cock.

“Do something for me,” he begins palming his growing bulge. “Run your hands down your thighs… nice and slow. Tease yourself the way I would.”

There was a beat of silence, and he held his breath, waiting. Then, he heard it—a faint shift in your breathing, followed by a soft, shaky exhale. It was subtle, but it was enough to tell him you were doing exactly as he asked.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his own hand slipping beneath his waistband to wrap around his cock. It twitched eagerly in his palm, already hard and aching as he imagines you following his instructions.

“…you touching yourself, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah.”

The word trembles on your lips like a secret only he’s allowed to hear, and his grip tightens on his cock as he begins to stroke himself slowly—matching the rhythm he imagines your hand moving in.

“Good girl,” he purrs, the sheets rustling beneath him as his hand glides across his length. “Now slide your fingers inside that tight little cunt… nice and slow.”

Your soft moan spills through the line, and his hips buck involuntarily at the sound—his hand moving faster.

“Fuck… love hearing those pretty little sounds” he groans as his thumb swipes over his tip, slick with pre-cum. “How many fingers are you using?”

“Two,” you gasp as the word breaks into a moan.

“Add another,” he commands, almost a growl.

You hesitate for just a moment, but then your breathy whimper crackles through the line, and he hisses through clenched teeth, his dick twitching eagerly at the sound. But somehow, without meaning to, his imagination betrays him.

He pictures you—his coworker. Fuck, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

You—head tipped back; lips parted as your fingers work you open—his cock throbbed eagerly at the mental image.

Fuck… this was supposed to be a distraction, not fuel for his already out-of-control infatuation. He groaned, annoyed at himself but powerless to stop, and his strokes grew faster, more desperate as he surrendered to the fantasy.

“Haa… that’s my girl,” he praises, eyes fluttering shut as his hips buck into his hand desperately. “Stretch yourself for me. Make yourself nice and ready for my cock… nngh… wanna fucking fill you up, princess. Make you take every inch.”

Your soft, choked moan crackles through the phone, and it unravels him further. His strokes grow faster, more erratic—his free hand gripping the sheets as he chases his release.

“Bet you’d look so pretty,” his hand becomes a frantic blur as he loses himself to his fantasy. “All spread out and dripping for me. Taking my cock like a good girl… haaa… gonna fucking stuff you full as you cum all over m’ dick.”

“Fuck… m’ cumming,” you gasp, and as your broken cry crackles through the receiver, it sends him careening over the edge.

“Fuck… yes, good fucking girl… haaa—m’ cumming too.”

He pumps his cock, hips jerking as thick, hot streams of cum spill over his hand and onto the sheets below. His breath hitches in his throat, and before he can stop himself, your name rips from his lips, raw and guttural, a desperate cry he couldn’t contain.

Through the phone, your own gasping breaths mingle with his—the faint sound of your release trembling through the line. Then, for a brief moment, the world was quiet, save for the shared rhythm of your breathing as the two of you come down from the high.

Until, reality set in.

Fuck.

He blinked up at the ceiling, his free hand raking through his hair as his brain scrambled to process what just happened.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He felt like a goddamn asshole. He’d just moaned someone else’s name—your name—while he was supposed to be with someone else.

What the hell was wrong with him?

But then, you laughed—a soft, breathless sound that broke through his spiraling thoughts.

“That was… fun,” you said warmly, slightly teasing. “But, um… how do you know my name?”

His stomach dropped.

“I… what?” his voice cracked slightly as panic clawed its way up his throat.

“You said my name,” you reply, a curious lilt to your tone now. “I don’t remember telling you my name. And, you know, the app is supposed to be anonymous…”

It hit him all at once.

The voice that had been haunting him, the one that felt so painfully familiar, the one he’d convinced himself couldn’t possibly be yours—it was yours.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as realization washed over him.

“Wait…” your tone shifts from amused to sharp. “You sound familiar. Like… Gojo?”

His stomach flips, dread pooling in his chest like ice water.

“Uh…” He froze, his mind scrambling for something, anything, that could salvage this disaster. “…hi, princess?” His tone was a weak attempt at his usual cocky charm—it fell flat. “Didn’t expect to find you on this app…”

There was a beat of silence, and then, like the idiot he was, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“Sooo… still no boyfriend then, huh?”

there’s a little boy staring up at you.

he has a dull expression but he seems entirely content and occupied sucking on a lolly while a tiny hand of his is buried inside his father’s big one.

“megumi. greet her.”

you take in toji’s stern but soft voice and smile at the child as he continues to stay still. megumi lets the air linger for a couple seconds before he decides to bring the candy out of his mouth.

“hello.”

waiting for a few more seconds it struck you that that was all he was planning to say. but it was ok. he just seemed to be a boy of few words.

“oh, hi. it’s so nice to meet you.” you’d hoped the expression on your face reassured him that he had no reason to worry as you noticed his hand grip tighter against toji’s.

a simple nod was all you got before you heard toji speak up.

“i know this is a first date but i wanted to introduce you to him.”

his words were simple and clear.

your heart could only throb as you took in the sight before you; a little boy who was stuck to his fathers’s side, a hint of wariness in his eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.

this must be new to him and you internally winced at the thought of him thinking you were trying to take his father away from him.

but you greatly respected toji for bringing along his child — it was a straightforward and easy move to show you how important megumi was to him.

“and i’m happy you did. i’m looking forward to getting to know you better. the both of you.”

the slight small raise in the younger boy’s eyebrow only had you widening your smile before you caught him stare for a little longer than before; a tint of pink appearing on his cheeks.

OBJECTION‼️‼️‼️ nuh-uh but make it alastor and husk