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gojosblackqueen · 3 days

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𝓣𝓘𝓜𝓔 𝓐𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓘𝓜𝓔 𝓐𝓖𝓐𝓘𝓝 . . .

𝓈𝓎𝓅𝓃𝑜𝓈𝒾𝓈 — satoru finds himself reminiscing on all of the fond memories he had of you, right until the very end.

𝒸𝓌 : 2.9k words. bittersweet. grief. angst. sickness & death. childhood best friends to lovers. mentions of children. noncurse! au.

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 — this was my piece for @saelique’s angst collab !! also my first time writing angst :0 | @omitea @steleir

satoru recalls the time he met you at your neighborhood park, the one your mom would take you to every tuesday. playing in the sandbox, dolls and castle shaped molds carved into the warm grains. dusty knees that dug into the sand as you played, laughing and giggling to yourself. and when he bounced his way over to you with a pep in his step, he remembers you asking,

“ do you wanna play, too ? ”

he remembers his surprise at your question, falling into the sand with a thud as you broke out into a childs laughter at the pout on his face. he played with you until he heard the call of your name from your mother, face forming into a sad frown knowing you had to leave your new friend behind.

“ it’s okay, we can play next time ! ”

he could never forget the wide smile that replaced the tears that were forming in your eyes, waving goodbye at his promise to play in the sandbox again.

———

satoru muses his excitement when he found out you moved to the same street, just a few houses down. the feeling of the warm sun beating down on his bare skin, grass tickling the bottoms of his feet as he ran in your backyard through the sprinklers. you had a frilly swimsuit and popsicle stained mouth as you giggled and ran through the water once more.

he remembers how sometimes you couldn’t pronounce your r’s just right, so when you yelled out his name in retaliation after he pushed you into the cold sprinkler, all that would come out was a loud and precious,

“ s’towu ! ”

he remembers his gross grape flavored otterpop in the summer heat, because he knew you wanted the cherry one.

———

satoru reminisces on your first day of middle school together, bow ties and uncomfortable uniforms that were just a bit too big on you.

he remembers how you used to get bullied, vowing to protect you against the “ meanie’s ” that picked on you at recess. he remembers the soft hug you gave him as you thanked him for helping you, incoherent babbles that spilled into his chest resounding of a grateful,

“ thank you, toru’ ! ”

he remembers sitting down at the round lunch tables to eat food with you, reluctantly sharing his lunchable he begged for at the store with you because he knew you would ask for a bite anyway.

———

satoru recalls when you two were in highschool, seemingly growing up together into adults. he remembers meeting his best friends, but they could never truly compare to the bond you two had.

he remembers how you made a new clique of girlfriends, sitting with them at lunch and playfully shooing satoru away when he’d try to sit down and join the gossip at the girls table.

he remembers the neatly packed bento’s you would bring for him once or twice a week, so you could share with him just like you did in middle school.

he remembers the way his heart started to betray him without him even knowing, being a teenager with fluctuating hormones that had him seeing you in a different light than that of a best friend. he remembers how he felt the slightest bit flustered when your hand would brush against his shoulder in laughter, your sweet laughter, and how his face would heat up when you’d give him a hug goodbye after walking you home. how his heart would skip a beat when you’d call for him from the courtyard, skipping to his side so you could walk with him to class.

he remembers how geto told him that he had a crush on you before he could even realize it himself. telling him that he could see his blush ridden cheeks and nervous laughter whenever you came around. how it was so obvious that,

“ you obviously really like her, satoru. ”

he remembers coming to the realization late at night that he was in fact in love with you, and he had no idea what to do about it. the feelings of doubt, nervousness, unsure about the outcome would corrode his mind but all he knew was he wanted you.

satoru remembers the many failed “dates” he planned, realizing all of the stuff you two were doing together was just part of the normal in your long friendship. he wanted you to see it too. he remembers when he randomly blurted out he liked you more than just a best friend in a flurry of frustration, and he definitely couldn’t forget your surprised face and happy smile that accepted him with the sultry agreement that fell past your lips, the way you looked up at him and back down to your feet before enveloping him in a hug,

“ i do too, toru’. ”

he remembers the embarrassed look on your face from your bedroom window upstairs, him holding up a large prom sign with the most cliche music imaginable playing from suguru’s car. he remembers the crack in his voice as he sang along, and the giggles that erupted from your mouth, sweet like candy as you accepted his proposal with a loud yell of,

“ i’ll go to prom with you, toru’ ! now go before my mom yells at you ! ”

he remembers dancing with you on prom night, swaying you in that beautiful dress that made him see you all the more beautiful. he remembers leaning in close, looking into your eyes and smiling brightly as he held you close.

he would never forget the first kiss you two shared. small, sweet, and innocent in all of it’s impatient glory. the beat in his heart grew faster, bumping against his chest when he pulled away to look at you like you hung the stars in the night sky and pulled the sun up from the horizon.

“ you’re beautiful, y’know that ? ”

———

satoru recalls when you both made your way to university, starting your true adult lives in your chosen career paths that would soon take you to success.

he remembers your dorm room, girly and poster ridden with neat organization. he remembers the pictures you had displayed of the both of you, keeping him dear to your heart even in the mess that college could be.

he remembers the bags under your eyes from the hard work you spent on your course finals. how you refused to sleep because it was “ just one more sentence ” when it really wasn’t. he remembers buying you food and “ scolding ” you as much as satoru gojo could possibly scold someone, demanding that you get some rest and eat until your belly was full.

he remembers the times when he would sneak into your room just to see you, late at night or in the early hours of the morning just to crawl into the sheets and hug your sleeping form. how soft your duvet was, and how your even breaths would make your chest rise and fall.

he remembers the study dates that took place at the nearest cafe, what was supposed to be a small and quiet place for patrons turned into hushed laughter and smeared pen ink. he remembers your order, how you would fight him to pay despite you drowning in student debt.

he remembers your graduation together, degree’s held tightly in your hands with big gowns and weird caps. how your parents were clapping for the both of you, immensely proud that you two had finally made it one step further into life.

———

satoru reminisces on the day he proposed to you. your long, flowy dress that fell by your feet in the spring sunshine. he remembers how his knee dug into the clovered grass when he asked you to be his forever. how the light hit your face from it’s reflection on the quiet river you two used to swim in at your younger ages. how you squealed and cried, getting down to his level to wrap your arms around him, pulling him towards you into a passionate kiss. how happy you were, how your eyes shined so bright when he placed the perfect ring on your dainty finger after your chants of,

“ oh my god, toru’ ! yes ! yes, i’ll marry you ! ”

he remembers how you looked for the perfect venue, but just couldn’t settle on one, until you had made your final decision to have your wedding in the place that had the most memories. how many long hours you spent sealing invitations and stamping them to send them off. how you forbid him from going with you to pick out your dress because,

“ you have to be patient, toru’ ! ”

he remembers getting ready in his childhood home, his best friend at his side who fixed his messy bow tie. how geto had to hold him down with two arms as to not let him free, as he was scolded for trying to walk a couple houses down to see you before the wedding.

he remembers finally seeing you walk through the grass of your backyard wedding, eyes pooling tears as he watched you shy a smile his way. he remembers your vows, word for word, and how you cried when he recited his. he remembers how he impatiently asked the officiate after saying your “i do’s”,

“ can i kiss her now ? ”

he remembers dipping you dramatically and placing his lips on yours. the claps and cheers surrounding you both from the people you cared for most, giggling into his mouth when he kept kissing you for a bit longer than expected.

he remembers your first dance, how he held you so close to the smooth rhythm of the song. how you swayed and spun with the direction of his hands, how beautiful you looked. he remembers feeling like you were the only people there, feeling on top of the world as he now got to call you his for life.

he remembers the way you laughed at geto’s stupid speech, taking the credit for making you two realize your love. how you hugged shoko so tight she could hardly breathe. he remembers your parents crying as they finally are got to witness their little girl grown up. how your father shook his hand in approval, and how your mother hugged him like he was her own, forever grateful that you chose someone like him to marry. he remembers the smiles and hugs you gave his parents, sweet and kind with the respect you showed towards them.

he remembers whispering into your ear when you two had caught a moment alone, antsy as he fidgeted with your bedazzled ring finger,

“ do you think can newly weds sneak out of their own reception ? ”

———

satoru recalls moving in to your childhood home together. he remembers sleeping by your side, sunken in to the comforters at night, and eating breakfast with you at the same kitchen table. the grass was as green as ever, confetti still spilled between the clovers from your wedding reception.

he remembers waking you up with soft touches and gentle kisses, and the grogginess in your voice when you told him good morning. he remembers the movie nights, with buttery popcorn and cozy blankets. the selfcare nights, when you’d insist he put a facemask on and scolded him when he would kiss you before it was dry.

he remembers the get togethers that took place in your backyard, familiar faces gathered in a bustle of cheery laughter and cool summer breezes. he couldn’t forget how he would lay with you in the grass to watch the stars in the quiet night, crickets chirping a tune in the cold wind that followed the moon.

———

satoru remembers finding a positive test on the old bathroom counter, excitement bubbling in his chest at the news that he would soon be a father. he remembers hugging you in a gentle twirl, basking in the feeling of pure enthrallment.

he remembers shopping for baby clothes, watching as you coo’ed at the tiny socks and little onesies. he remembers stocking up more diapers than needed, and building the crib for his soon to come baby.

he remembers laying his head on your small bump, listening to the tossing and turning of your baby as he felt the tiniest kick. he remembers how honeyed your voice sounded when you would sing to your unborn, caressing your stomach in pure bliss as you sang your quiet lullaby.

he remembers your baby shower, and how excited you were to cut the cake to see what color would be revealed. how everyone took their own guesses, and satoru insisted all that mattered to him was that your baby was healthy, but he secretly had a hope that it was a girl. he remembers slicing the vanilla cake with a hand over yours, bringing you into an embrace as you both expressed your excitement at the pink colored cake.

he remembers your labor, how his hand was crushed into dust at your painful squeezing. he remembers your heaves and your yells, how strong you were as you delivered your child. he remembers first hearing the cries of his precious baby, and cutting the umbilical cord.

he remembers looking at your daughters face after what seemed to be the longest nine months of his entire life, admiring her tiny hands and pretty tufts of thin hair. he remembers the small tears that leaked from his eyes as he looked from you to her, hushed whispers as he held your precious daughter in his large hands,

“ you look just like your momma… don’t you sweet girl ? ”

———

satoru recalls watching you play with your daughter in the backyard he used to play with you in. he remembers watching you run through the sprinklers while your daughter held your hand and followed, her frilly swimsuit ruffling at the hems as she giggled at the dewdrops that sprayed on her skin.

he remembers the way you cried when you sent your daughter on her way to her first day of school, missing tooth gleaming as she hugged you both goodbye. he remembers the way he kissed your forehead and assured you she would be alright.

he remembers the way you giggled when he got upset over your daughter receiving a valentine, pout evident on his face as he tried to prove his point by stating

“ that’s my baby ! no boys until you’re older, understand sweetheart ? ”

he remembers watching her grow up with you both, reminiscing on how old she was getting so quickly. how he would catch you looking back on photo albums from when she was a newborn, turning the pages of life up until the latest one.

he remembers how happy you were for your daughter when she graduated highschool, how you both enveloped her into a hug and cried at the time that had passed. he remembers her being sent off to college, and how you missed her so dearly.

———

satoru remembers growing old with you. the way the color eventually began to fade from your hair, shining of gray that you became a little embarrassed of. how the wrinkles from your constant laughter began to show on the sides of your cheeks, and how the crease in your brow was more prominent.

he remembers watching you fall ill, and how he couldn’t help you this time. he remembers holding your hand like it was a piece of glass, sitting at your bedside until the moon descended and the sun rose.

he remembers the softened, weak whispers that escaped from your mouth. the exhaustion in your voice and fatigue etched in your features when you called his name in the way you always had,

“ toru’… ”

he would never forget hearing the flatline of your heart, or the bustling of nurses at your side. how your hand turned cold, and how your eyes fluttered shut after he had gotten one last look at them.

satoru remembers the sobs that wracked his body day and night, white hair disheveled from his pure sorrow. how not even a hug from his best friend could replace your warmth in its entirety.

———

satoru stands in your once shared home now. he sees the old pencil markings on the door, and the bright green grass that held the fondness of your time with him. he sees your ring on his nightstand, lonesome with no finger to hold it. he can still hear the echoes of your laughter etched into the ceilings of your home, and he can still see the bright smile of yours in the picture frames that littered the walls. he wished in every waking moment for one more chance to hear your voice, to hear your giggles, to feel you, to hold you, to hear you call out to him with the gentle “ toru’ ” that would slip past your lips.

satoru could be asked by anyone what you were like, or the story between you two. he could reminisce on every memory, every date, every anniversary, every holiday. he remembered it all.

satoru would grieve you until his heart would give out, remembering his vows to you on your wedding night, his promise to you since he was youthful and bright,

“ until death do us part, and everything after. ”

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gojosblackqueen · 3 days

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imperfect for you !

✎ᝰ — gojo, the broken man with a lover to fix him up :)

★ — gojo x reader

★ — genre + warnings: fluff with just a pinch of angst + no warnings :)

★ — a/n: i love eternal sunshine so much, yall please save me from this album

SATORU GOJO is in love with the way that you dont hide yourself from him. you show no fear when you first met him as one of the greatest sorcerers to ever exist and you still don’t to this day. you see him as human, something he always craved throughout human affection

SATORU GOJO is in love with that to you, he’s just satoru gojo. he’s not the satoru gojo the strongest or satoru gojo, one of the greatest sorcerers to exist. you see him as satoru gojo, a man who has gone through so much, a man who doesn’t wanna be worshipped, he wants to be loved

SATORU GOJO is in love with that you accept that he’s not nearly as perfect as people point him out to be. he’s broken, he’s full of shame, he’s full of regret, he’s scared, he can be cold, but still loved by you. he knows when his brain start planting ideas that he’s too dangerous for you, he can find comfort in you to wash away those ideas

SATORU GOJO is in love with the your hand holds his, a simple squeeze when you see his face soften but not in a good way. he’s incredibly touched by the way you can calm his mind down when his mental becomes negative

SATORU GOJO is in love with the way your beautiful lips can reassure him that he’s perfect just the way he is, there’s no change he needs to make unless necessary

SATORU GOJO is in love with the way he can stay half asleep while you explain your love to him. his eyelids half covering his cerulean eyes, they open and close showing that he’s close to his slumber but doesn’t wanna give in. he wants to hold your hand and hum as your face lights up to his presence

SATORU GOJO is in love with you not being perfect just as much as he isn’t. but in his world, you are perfect, you’re complete. your love completes his world when everything is peaceful, no monsters to hide you from, no wonders or worries on whether or not either of you will make it home

𖥻 so guess my new hyperfixation 😁

𖥻 yall i love gojo so much, like its actually so sick how much i love him. he deserves the world and i wanna kiss all his worries away :(

𖥻 bye babes, drink your water and I love you MWAH 💕

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gojosblackqueen · 3 days

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ENTRY #5 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

My eyes are glossed, And my heartbeat skips, I crave, I am lost In the nectar of your lips.

cw: arranged marriage!au, fluff — 2,0k words

a/n: you welcomed the series so warmly and lovely, that I made this part longer. it's sickly sweet, it's fluffy — enjoy!

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“What the hell am I doing–“

You groaned. Again and again. Sighing and throwing your hands into the air, helpless and hopeless. Resignation crawling up your skin, threatening to fight and win with your stubbornness and determination. You felt the characteristics you proud yourself with falter and peel away along with your pride and dignity and you found it ironic — pathetic — that years of harsh trainings, of bloody torture you endured, years of fights and pain did nothing to break you and now you’re losing your mind over a goddamn mochi.

Mochi.

A dessert made of rice dough, sweet and objectively adorable with its round shape and sugary filling. If someone asked you how much time you spent in the kitchen already, heating up the glutinous rice flour, mixing and kneading the dough, you wouldn’t know. Hours, most likely. Fighting a battle that you weren’t ready for, mixing ingredients, adding water, whisking, and then kneading again, burning your fingers and pads of your palms more times than you’d ever admit. And you hated it. Hated the corn starch that dusted all around the place, the sticky mass of heated rice flour that you tried to get just right and above all, you hated how much time it took you before it finally started to look like something you can work with.

“There we go,” you mumbled, kneading and stretching the dough between your hands and the marble countertop. There was a reason you were a fighter, not a cook and the current state of your kitchen made enough of a proof. Mochi now, cleaning later.

The fillings were delicious, you had to pat yourself on the back. You were very lucky today to grab the sweetest strawberries you ever ate. They tasted like summer, like hot, tropical heaven and you fought with yourself before you ate them all. The cream you whipped turned out just perfectly thick and fluffy. Then the green edamame paste — your husband’s favorite — came out just as good. Decadent almost, smooth and sweet, with perfect, bright green color and texture of a cloud. Half of your cream you mixed up with melted chocolate and while happy with the insides, you were still a little concerned about the dough.

You’re not gonna be defeated by a rice dough.

You managed to roll out the mass very thinly, perfectly, and began forming mochi, which turned out to be much easier to do than you anticipated.

Take the dough.

Scoop on the filling.

Close the dough.

Roll.

Repeat.

You filled up a tray, all of the balls prettily displayed on top of a parchment paper and you took it upon yourself to have a taste of each one. Delicious. Absolutely mind-blowing.

To the fridge they go.

Now clean.

* * *

Satoru got home around 7 pm — typical, if nothing comes up or hold him at work. His job as a teacher, you learned it quickly, was repetitive, predictable. He’s out the door just shy of 10 am and back near the evening, before the soft pinks and oranges of the summer turn into nightly blues and greys and you grew to appreciate the routine that settled into your lives. Spending most of the days separately made the first weeks of marriage much more bearable. It gave you and him enough time to get used to the new situation and cool off after many fights you had. But that was about to change and you were meaning to tell him today, sweetening the deal with mochi.

Oh right, mochi!

It got you a little too excited for Satoru to ignore, you looked a little brighter than usually, nervous even and he found it concerningly amusing. You’re rarely happy to see him back, he’s more used to see you ignore him than to greet him, and even if so – you’d usually pass him with a hi or an attempt of a small talk that he hated. Gojo couldn’t tell what was it that made you so much more vibrant that evening, you looked thrilled, your eyes glimmered in the dim lights of the house. You almost looked… happy? To see him? No, that couldn’t be it.

“Did something happen today? You look oddly excited,” he spoke, following his usual routine of taking off his uniform jacket and putting it neatly on a hanger in the hallway, folding his blindfold in half to have it ready in the morning and washing his hands and face. The soft, dry towel soaked up the excess wetness from his skin as he patted it away, pointing his ocean-blue eyes toward you expectantly.

“Well, yes, kind of,” you replied and dropped onto the soft cushions of the sofa in the living room. You twisted your body slightly and looked at him, and he got the hint because few seconds later, he sat down next to you. “Two things. First, I got an offer to work as a teacher in your school. Yaga contacted me–“

“You are the new teacher for the second years?” Satoru cut you and you couldn’t read him. A slight surprise was all you could decipher from the expression of his features.

“Yes. Well, not yet,” you sighed, “before I agree I wanted to ask you what you think.”

“And you’ll do as I say? Since when you’re doing as you’re told?” He teased and for a moment you considered eating all the mochi yourself. Maybe tying him to the chair and devouring it right in front of his eyes? You opened your mouth to say something rather unpleasant before he spoke again. “If you’re asking me for permission, we both know you don’t need it. I’m sure kids will benefit from having you to lead them.”

“Are you willing to be civil with me if we spend more time along each other during the day? Last thing I need is to argue with you more than we already do.”

“We don’t argue that much lately,” he protested and you huffed out a chuckle, nodding in agreement. You didn’t fight at all, if you think about it. It seemed as if slowly you were getting used to… everything.

“So, you’re fine with the idea?”

“I’m fine with the idea, yes,” he said, running a hand through his white, slightly damp hair and brushing it back. You took in his features, allowing yourself to just stare at the man you married, because even if wedded, you see him no more than his students are. He still sleeps on the couch; he still spends most of his time outside. “You’re staring.”

“Why would I–“

“I am,” you confirmed, shamelessly and it made him chuckle. “Talking about staring, close your eyes.”

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” you ordered, getting up from the comfortable seat you were sunken into. “Please?”

“I’m honestly concerned,” he said but reluctantly lowered his eyelids. As if it made him any less aware of his surroundings. “What are you planning?”

“Don’t peek.”

Quickly, you padded into the kitchen and uncovered the mochi you kept out of the fridge for about ten minutes now. You took the tray and a glass of water and got back to where Satoru was situated. With his eyes closed, comfortable against the cushions. He felt your weight sinking onto the pillows next to him and a hint of something sweet in the air.

“Open up,” your voice made him hum, still uncertain but curious nonetheless. ‘Open up’ was such a foreign command for him to follow and the small amount of trust that was secure between you and him had to suffice for him to comply. “There we go,” you almost whispered and Satoru slightly flinched at the first contact of his mouth with, what felt like, a blob of cold unknown substance. For a reason he couldn’t really rationalize, he grabbed onto your waist to balance himself, even if there was nothing to throw him off.

Slowly, with caution, Gojo closed his mouth, allowing his teeth to meet the dough, go through it. Mochi. He recognized the sweet taste of his very favorite treat immediately but something about what was just melting against his tongue felt different to what he’s used to. The rice envelope was softer but chewy, sweetened just perfectly and the paste inside — green bean — had a texture of silk and butter, a luscious heaven itself. He felt it spreading along his taste buds, warming against the insides of his cheeks. A perfect mixture of fluffy inside and glutinous outside. So sweet, so delicious.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered. A sound so foreign, that it almost surprised you if not for the very vibrant wash of pleasure that relaxed his features. Just as the mochi melted in his mouth, he melted against the couch.

“Was it good?” You asked, while the answer was relatively clear from what you had a chance to witness. “I made them for you and they are not perfect yet but–“

“You made this mochi for me?”

Satoru’s bright blue eyes snapped open and his grip on your waist tightened. A shock pushed to the front of his expression, he blinked — once, twice — before you nodded slowly. Then he followed the direction of your gaze; his own landing on the tray full neat rows of plump rice balls, so perfectly imperfect against the dark wood below them. He could tell some had a green undertone, the edamame filling, and some were looking white and plain. Next row seemed to have chocolate inside and he could catch the hint of it in the air.

“You made all of this? With your hands?”

“From scratch, yeah,” you nodded, reaching for another one. “Chocolate.”

Being fed by you — his wife — felt odd, unfamiliar, and yet the subtle brush of your fingers against his lips whenever you gently pushed the doughy ball into his open mouth felt just right. Satoru thought he could get used to it, and the mochi.

“So you’re not only a good cook,” you’re not, but you hummed. “But also you can make mochi? If we weren’t already married, I would have asked you to marry me now.”

“That easy, huh?”

“That easy.”

You shook your head, visibly suppressing a giggle and Gojo hoped you wouldn’t hold it. It’s only now that he’s learning how pretty is your smile, how your eyes crinkle every time you allow your face to relax and take on a pattern of joy. He likes the shape your lips form, how they stretch whenever you’re happy and how your brows lift up just slightly above your half-closed lids. He wished you’d let yourself burst out laughing, but instead you shook your head yet again and let out a sigh of content. Good enough.

You reached onto the tray again. This time it was the white blob of doughy goodness hanging heavy between your dainty fingers. “This one is my favorite.”

There was no need to tell him twice. Satoru opened his mouth, eager for the sweetness you called your favorite although from your words he had a suspicion what was inside. Strawberries. You love strawberries. He learned that during the wedding celebration, when you eyed the fruit on his piece of the cake with the most adorable envy he’s ever seen – and then, those very same eyes glittered with pleasure when he exchanged his plate with yours. He remembers how you left the red, plump strawberry for the last bite, how you sighed with content as you bit into the juicy flesh of the fruit, how you nearly purred despite the stressful predicament you were placed into.

“Divine,” Gojo purred himself, as the flavors mixed in his mouth. The crisp, fresh strawberry, along the velvety cream and chewy dough made for an experience he could only compare to orgasm.

He wanted more.

Craved more and he blames it on you that the moment you sunk your teeth into the sweet treat, he leaned closer. His mind went blank when he wrapped his own mouth around the half mochi that sticked out, his lips brushed against yours. A drop of red juice run down his chin, wet and sticky against his skin. He didn’t care. Greedy for more, for you, he leaned in even more, tempted by the sweet taste of your sugar-powdered lips flush to his own.

You gasped. Purred. In surprise, in pleasure, or both.

The feeling unfamiliar, addicting, syrupy.

You should stop it.

You wanted more.

He should stop it.

He wanted more.

It was slow, sloppy and nothing but strawberry and cream.

taglist: @kinny-away , @anan-baban , @lotomber , @netflix-imagines , @kawliflo , @nishloves , @ghostfacefricker6969 , @thejujvtsupost , @yozora7154 , @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost , @ae-mius , @ropickle , @chokesonspit

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gojosblackqueen · 4 days

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SMAU- YOU FIND THEIR "SMUT"

(Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso)

Note: the male equivalent of smut ✊️😞 I did the opposite here

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gojosblackqueen · 6 days

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⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ [𝟬𝟰:𝟮𝟴 𝗔.𝗠.] : satoru gojo x fem! reader

˖ ִֶָ𐀔 contents: fluff, fluff, fluff! established relationship. second person pov. js 'toru being soft, i'm so normal abt him i swear >.<

a deep-set frown tugs at the corners of satoru's lips when he wakes up to find you missing from your spot next to him. traces of moonlight stream in through the blinds, highlighting the outline of your crumpled silhouette on the cold sheets.

waking up alone has become too often an occurrence for his liking. his brows furrow as his fingers ghost over the imprint on the pillow where you should be — beside him — feeling a pang of something akin to loneliness in his chest.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair. attempting to wake himself up a bit more. with a groan, he gets out of bed. the room seems colder somehow without you by his side. the cool wood floors grate against his bare feet as he pads down the hallway.

all the lights are turned off, except the ones in the kitchen. he finds you on your tiptoes, wobbling against the counter as you reach for your favourite mug. he's careful not to frighten you as his bare chest presses against your back and he reaches from behind to grab it.

he places it on the counter, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. "morning," he mumbles into your skin, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

"morning 'toru" you smiled, carding your fingers through the ivory strands tickling your chin. "what are you doing up?"

"i could ask you the same thing" satoru replied, punctuating his sentence by pressing soft kisses along the curve of your neck.

"i figured i'd make myself some coffee since i couldn't go back to sleep" you shifted around in his embrace so he could see your face better.

"is something wrong sweets?" he asks, cupping your cheeks in his hands. concern shone in his eyes, bright enough to rival the stars themselves.

"no" you shook your head, savouring the feeling of satoru’s thumb stroking circles into your cheekbones "'m just not tired"

"i'll stay up with you then" satoru hummed thoughtfully

"you shouldn't" you frowned, brushing his hair out of his infinitely blue eyes. his pupils are glazed with sleep, yet still held such tenderness and warmth "you'll be too tired for your meeting"

"'m not going for it anyways, i'd rather keep you company" he wants nothing more than to pull you into a kiss, but that could wait until you'd made your coffee. he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before releasing you from his grasp.

you sigh — a quiet exhale flowing from your parted lips as you went to pour your coffee. satoru follows your movements with his gaze. the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you stirred almond milk and cubes of sugar into the steaming mug.

"want some?" you asked, you cupped your coffee in your hands. the warmth seeped through your fingers. "or i could make you some hot chocolate"

his infinitely blue eyes drank you in as you sipped on your coffe. in spite of your messy hair and the dark circles beneath your lashes, he found himself lost in the pure essence of your beauty. tired eyes transfixed by his shirt slipping off your shoulder and the sleeves hanging loosely on your elbows. he loved looking at you. it was without a doubt his favourite thing in the world.

"'toru?" the sweet sound of your voice eased him out of his trance. he shook his head as he moved to lean next to you. your brows are slightly furrowed and he places a kiss between them. a futile attempt to smooth the scrunched skin.

"'s nothing" he says, voice a mere whisper over the sound of the wall clock ticking and the crickets chirping outside. the lingering silence isn't uncomfortable, not when it's filled with you.

the way you tilt your head to look at him as he presses a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. satoru thinks he could stay like this forever. he's close enough to feel the warmth radiating off your body.

satoru wondered if you knew how much of a goner he was, if you realised how much you truly meant to him. you sipped on your coffee, oblivious to the way he watched every little movement you made. you were everything. his everything.

he'd never sleep again if it meant having your fingers carding through his hair. he'd never sleep again if it meant his hands could linger over your warm skin, imbued with the scent of coffee and your perfume, for eternity. he'd never sleep again if it meant having you with him.

"'m just in love with you" he admits, whispering the words as if they would break the earth's atmosphere. you smile, and it's brighter than any star satoru has ever gazed upon. he gently takes your mug from your grasp so he can wrap both arms around you without your coffee getting in the way.

"i know" you say softly, "i'm kinda in love with you too…"

"really?" he raises an eyebrow, grinning. satoru's gaze drops to your lips and his heart flutters in a way that's become familiar to him— and only him —after years of knowing and loving you.

"yes really" you stood on the utmost tips of your toes and leaned forward to press your lips to his. slow, gentle. it tastes exactly how he imagined it would— like sugary coffee and wisps of heaven; like home

it felt as if only the two of you were awake in the vast expanse of the universe. moonlight kissed the perfect canvas of your skin as your fingers trailed over the strong curves of his bare forearms.

the taste of coffee lingers on his lips as you pull away. satoru thinks that nothing compares to you. no one could hold a candle — no one could burn as bright.

he didn't know what his life would've been if he hadn't met you. you were his world, his soul. he wouldn't give you up for anything. not even his own freedom, because he knew without a shadow of doubt that you were it. he was never truly free until he met you

he knew he should drag you back to the comfort of your bed, to indulge in the luxury of holding you in his arms and lulling you back to sleep before the sun rises. but he selfishly wished to bask in your presence for a little while longer. to stay like this for eternity because he never knew when he'd lose the privilege of being with you.

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gojosblackqueen · 6 days

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satoru is the friend that always upstages your boyfriend, but he’s so good to you that your boyfriend can’t really complain without coming across as the asshole in the equation. your boyfriend sends you flowers after your promotion, but satoru sends an arrangement of roses in the shape of your favorite animal. your boyfriend suggests going out to dinner for your birthday and gets you the piece of jewelry you’ve been eyeing as a present, but satoru’s the one who books the michelin-star restaurant and surprises you with a $10k handbag. you car breaks down and your boyfriend offers to pick you up/drop you off at work for the week, but satoru steps in a loans you his car and then tells you can keep it. and when your boyfriend does get the balls to confront satoru, he’s awfully relaxed, very calm as he explains that you’re his best friend in the whole world, so he just wants to treat you right. no harm in that, right?

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gojosblackqueen · 7 days

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not this time .ᐟ

wherein both the jjk men and boys thought it was yet another one of your pranks but it turned out to be real (+todo slander just bc😭)

includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta and toge

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gojosblackqueen · 7 days

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i crumble completely when you cry ; suguru geto

synopsis; after a tense fight with your boyfriend, you flee out into a brewing rainstorm. luckily, suguru is always willing to warm you up again.

word count; 6.2k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, no really that’s literally all this fic is, sugu snaps at you for worrying about him, (and then promptly spirals), he makes it up to you though :), healthy communication ensues, [name] is used exactly once, switching povs, soft & fluffy ending <33

a/n; going back to my roots (mindless hurt/comfort) 🙏🙏 i just think that if suguru picked me up like a small kitten and put me in his lap it would fix me

you’re cold.

little shivers run through your body, down your spine, and all you can do is clench your chattering teeth and dig your nails into the skin of your palms. the heavy rain falls down without mercy, going pitter patter as it hits the asphalt. a sudden lightning strike lights up the town, flashing in the reflection of puddles, and you manage a weak jolt.

dark clouds blanket the whole sky, not allowing even a sliver of blue to shine through the darkness of the rainy evening. enveloping you, surrounding you, soft earthy scents — wet asphalt, roses blooming to your left and right, bushes with sweet-smelling flora guiding your path, little petals glistening with droplets and bouncing with the force of the rain.

it’d be comforting, were it not for one simple fact;

you don’t have an umbrella.

at this point, thirty minutes into your solemn, sniffly walk, you’re absolutely soaked. with only a measly hoodie to cover your body and head, and a tank top sticking to the skin beneath it — you were stupid to think you’d get out of it unscathed. your shoes feel uncomfortable, wet soles sticking to the asphalt, two heavy weights carrying you down the familiar street ahead of you.

you let out a shuddering breath.

gosh, this was stupid. you knew it was going to rain, but still walked out without a care in the world; despite the weather forecast, despite suguru’s warnings over breakfast, despite the dark clouds covering the milk-blue sky. you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. you just felt so helpless.

you just couldn’t stay there.

some fresh air, and a bit of space. that was all you needed. just that one sliver of comfort.

so, yeah, maybe you weren’t thinking very clearly when you stormed out. maybe you weren’t thinking nearly enough, not enough to even grab one of the umbrellas hanging off the coatrack. hanging there just for you, the cutest little frog umbrella, one suguru bought for you himself. big, googly eyes, and a big smile. the most perfect shade of green.

(he put it there just for you.)

maybe you weren’t thinking at all. maybe you just needed to get away, away from him, away from the frustration on his features. arguments with suguru are few and far between — it only adds to the sting of his cold voice still ringing in your ears. you bite down on your bottom lip again, just to stop it from wobbling so pitifully. blinking rapidly, tears and raindrops clinging to your lashline.

you were just worried. is that so awful?

(why did he have to be so fucking mean about it?)

a sigh flows from your lips, heavy and defeated and undeniably tired. you hate feeling like this, this bitter, hate feeling like you’ve done something wrong. more than anything, you hate arguing with him — hate the idea of him being angry with you. hate the way his voice turns colder, just a little sharper, an octave lower. he never raises it, never ever, but somehow he still sounds so scary.

it bothers you. bothers you how sensitive you are when it comes to him. just that shivering tilt of his voice, coupled with the annoyance in his eyes, was enough to make your eyes a little glassy. one little sentence, and you were close to breaking out into a sob. because suguru was angry with you, and that alone makes you feel like you’ve done nothing right in your life.

so you left. because that was all you could do.

sure, the sharp pelting of the rain hurts a little, and the thunder is scary, and you’re awfully cold — but anything is better than having suguru see you burst into tears over such a small argument. you know he’d try to soothe you, know he’d feel guilty. but that just makes it all the more embarrassing.

(all the more pathetic.)

so you left, rushed out of your own apartment, and before you knew it the storm was rolling in above you. rain and thunder, something to rival the ache in your chest. it still hasn’t been that long, a little over half an hour, and you still haven’t fully calmed down. you still don’t know how to face him. but —

but fuck, it’s cold. and an undeniable part of you yearns to run back into his arms, to make up with him, to hear his voice turn warm and see his eyes go soft. you want him to soothe you so, so badly. like he always does.

another sigh — more resigned this time — slips from out your lips. your bones feel sore, you’re almost certain you’re going to catch a cold, and it’s getting late. you’re all alone, and it’s raining, and you look vulnerable and helpless.

you want to go home.

it’ll be awkward, but maybe you can sneak in somehow — without him noticing. then you can go straight to sleep, on the couch, and maybe you’ll feel a little better tomorrow. the two of you can talk it out over breakfast, over warm coffee, and you can tell him what you meant to say without stumbling over what words to use or dancing around the subject like a scared little child.

you’re just too tired to argue anymore.

he just made you feel so stupid. so very, very small. suguru’s been working so hard lately, coming home late, exhausting himself. all you wanted was to make sure he was okay. that, and to coax him into relaxing a bit; maybe take a day off to recharge. that was all.

but he just brushed you off.

and, well, maybe you should’ve backed off after that. maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign that suguru didn’t feel up to answering your questions. but you were just so worried, so pitifully anxious, and you just wanted to help him so, so badly.

suguru is always so dependable. always there to help you, to ground you, to console you. even when you push him away or insist you don’t need it. he can be pushy, when he feels like he needs to, when your health is at risk — and it’s frustrating, but you’ve always appreciated it. you just wanted to return the favour. push him, just a little, to show him how much you care. show him that he can depend on you the way he insists you do with him.

but then he grew frustrated.

”suguru… you’ve been working so much, i’m —” you bite down on your bottom lip. ”i’m just worried that you’re overdoing it.” ”… god. how many times do i have to say it? i know my limits, [name].” ”but — you just look so tired —” ”well, i’m sorry for that.” a cold smile. ”am i not living up to your expectations?”

(that’s not what you meant. he knows that’s not what you meant.)

and it makes you feel frustrated, too. pardon you for being worried. for wanting to be there for him, for once, for wanting to be a supportive partner and not just a burden.

pardon you for feeling a little lonely, with him coming home so late, leaving so early. with him not giving you the affection you’re so used to, and never confiding in you about his stress.

pardon you for wanting him to trust you, a little, even just a sliver more than not at all.

god, you’re exhausted. you just want to sleep — can’t you have that, at least? just that one thing? you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, don’t mind feeling like a stranger in your own home, as long as you get to rest your eyes. just for a little while.

your brain spins in circles, bitterness and longing heavy on your tongue, as you grumble over what to do or how to feel —

while your feet have already begun taking you home. moving almost on their own, on instinct, walking past rose bushes and backyards, the smell of glucose and rotting apples.

and you’re there before you know it: in front of the familiar door to your shared apartment, soaked from head to toe. still feeling a little lost.

for a second, you hesitate.

maybe he’s still angry. maybe he was happy to get some time away from you. maybe you’re just making things worse by doing this, maybe you should just —

but your fingers have already fished out the key from within your pocket, unlocking the door in one swift motion. moving up to curl around the doorknob, a desperation in your veins guiding you closer to his steady warmth.

and before you have the chance to waver again, you pull the door open and step inside.

you move slowly, gentle and careful, almost cautious. softly closing the door behind you and taking a couple quiet steps forward, only to shrug off your hoodie — heavy, soaking wet and discomforting as you pull it over your head. clumsily, you try to get it off you, squirming when the warm indoors air meets your sweaty tank top. it feels soothing on your bare skin, though, ghosting over your shoulders and collarbone, hoodie now clinging to your elbows.

in the middle of the taxing endeavor, you almost fail to notice the presence of a certain someone, standing just a little farther away.

almost, because it’d be impossible for you to miss him, that heavy gaze of his.

and before you can think the thought to do anything else, you’ve locked eyes with him — arms still tangled up in the wet sleeves of your hoodie, raindrops and sweat sticking to your skin.

(suguru takes a moment to look at you.)

not daring to say anything, afraid to part your lips, you simply stand there. in silence, like a deer in headlights. for some reason, you can’t really read his expression — you’re a little too tired, a little too caught off guard.

you can only blink, worry surely evident in your furrowed brows, as the seconds tick on and on. tense, tense, tense.

and then he’s walking away again.

crestfallen. that’s probably the best way to describe how you feel right now, watching him disappear around the corner. dejected, as your eyes fall to the floor, and your posture wilts like a dying rose. you finally shake off your hoodie and watch it fall to the floor with a gross, wet plap.

it hurts. you want to cry. you can’t help it. even though a part of you is still upset, even though a part of you fully expected this to happen…

another part was still hoping he’d be happy to see you. as if just seeing his smile again might’ve fixed everything.

but he didn’t even give you that.

that’s that, then. there’s nothing you can do except proceed with your original plan. you’ll change into some warm, dry clothes, and go to sleep on the couch like the miserable dog you are. you’ll leave everything troublesome and disheartening for tomorrow’s you to handle.

for now, you just have to worry about getting some sleep. you don’t have to think about suguru, or his cold voice, or the way he just walked away without saying anything.

you don’t have to think about him at all.

(don’t think. don’t think. don’t —)

— the soft patter of footsteps breaks you out of your anxious spiral. they come closer and closer, until a certain silhouette enters your vision out of the corner of your eye.

a certain suguru geto, hair down and cascading past his shoulders, wearing a comfortable sweater and loose sweatpants with a fluffy towel in tow.

once again, you can only blink. a vaguely confused deer in headlights. suguru comes closer and closer, until you can clearly see his eyes, amber gold, full of an emotion you finally manage to identify —

worry.

(ah.)

before you can say anything, he’s draped the towel around you. it feels nice, a soft texture on your skin, big enough to engulf you completely, cocooning you. cozy and snug. you can’t help but melt a little when suguru places his big hand over the towel and smooths it over your cheek, drying off your skin so gently that you feel like crying again.

”are you cold?” he asks, concern evident in his voice. to your immense relief, it sounds nowhere near as scary as before. ”you’re soaked…”

suguru almost seems to be pouting, bottom lip jutting out the slightest bit, eyebrows furrowed softly. still rubbing the raindrops off your skin. he looks awfully troubled, undeniably anxious, and the way he’s caressing your skin feels so earnestly caring. the towel feels warm, like he went the extra mile to heat it up for you.

and, more than anything, the feeling of suguru’s big hands cupping your face is almost heavenly. even though the touch is indirect, you can’t help but bask in his warmth, almost desperate to cling to it after escaping from the harsh cold of the rain. like he could slip away and leave you again if you don’t stay perfectly still, just like this.

it’s soothing. so, so soothing. but it also makes you feel kind of meek.

you sound sheepish when you answer, voice a little hoarse after your grueling walk. throat dry from all the crying. ”nah, ’m fine…”

the words are tiny, fragile like pieces of glass, and they only make suguru’s brows furrow further, pout turning into a soft frown as he gazes down at you.

(he hates how small you look. like you’re curling in on yourself.)

as soon as you left the apartment, a wave of regret washed over him. it was expected, obviously, because that’s what always happens after the two of you argue — which is almost never, which only makes the cut in his heart run deeper.

he felt frustrated. and tired, so tired. but when he saw your troubled expression, the way your eyes watered slightly before you rushed out…

he could only feel guilty.

and that sensation only deepened as he sat on the couch and spiraled, over the course of forty long minutes, playing the interaction back inside his head. over and over, thinking about your words, his words, some of which he desperately wishes he could take back.

and when it started raining? suguru could only feel regret, hot and ugly, dragging him into his own thoughts. could only drown in his worries, look out the window anxiously. thinking of you, his sweet baby, stuck under the onslaught of dark clouds and lightning strikes and heavy rain.

(you didn’t bring an umbrella.)

suguru waited. that was all he could do.

he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel so useless. fighting with himself, the part of him that wanted to give you the space you needed clashing with the part that yearned to run after you — scoop you up and apologize, hold you tight and protect you from the rainfall. you weren’t answering his calls, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you, didn’t want to make you feel even worse. afraid to scare you off for good.

so he could only sit there and worry, sit there and wait, wallow in his own shame until he heard the faintest sound of the front door unlocking. followed by the sound of it creaking open, slowly — and that was all he needed.

and there you were. standing by the entrance, entirely soaked, tank top sticking to your skin and that flimsy hoodie hanging off your arms, cheeks a little red from the cold and strands of hair sticking to your skin.

like a tiny kitten left out in the rain.

it made him feel so painfully anxious. his heart aching so deeply, so viscerally, while all he could think about was smothering you in affection. taking care of you, like he always wants to do, needs to do to stay sane. so suguru left, to go grab something to dry you off with —

and now he’s here. in front of you, smothering you with the towel rather than his love, fretting over you like an overprotective mother.

suguru yearns to soothe you. to take care of you. always, always, always, his hands on your skin and lidded amber eyes staring deeply into yours. offering himself like a shelter to a stray dog, hoping so tenderly that you’ll take the bait.

(he just wants you to feel safe with him again.)

so he stumbles for something, anything to say, afraid of overstepping or making you uncomfortable. you did just argue, and suguru was anything but patient with you. usually he would be; he’d make sure to be. but with work piling up, and exhaustion clinging to every pore of his skin…

he failed at maintaining his composure.

he needs to make it up to you. despite everything — even though he feels a little awkward, a little restless, still drowning a little in shame — he just wants to tend to you. that, and nothing more.

”hang on,” he exhales, stepping back and letting go of the towel. ”i’ll go draw you a bath…”

”ah — no need,” you smile, a little forced, swiftly reassuring him. he can tell you don’t really know how to act after everything that happened; still walking on eggshells. ”i’ll just take a quick shower.”

suguru wants to protest, wants to coax you into taking a proper bath, into letting your cold skin and aching bones relax completely —

but he can only hum, a little unsure. a little sad.

”… okay. got it.”

perplexed, he tries his hand at another tactic. still so desperate to take care of you in whatever way you’ll allow, like always, but he thinks it’s worse now. even more desperate, after the fight you had, after seeing your frail, shivering self. resisting the urge to scoop you up and coddle you is a struggle.

”i can make you tea?” he tries, inwardly wincing at the way the words spill from his lips; uncertain, awkward. what a mess.

but you smile, slightly more genuinely this time, a soft little thing. it soothes some of the anxiety rotting through his ribs.

”tea would be great, thank you.”

you brush past him, warm towel still hanging off your shoulders. ”i’ll just take a shower in the meantime,” you murmur, and suguru can do nothing but nod, watching you go.

he swallows thickly.

(that’s that, then.)

tea. right. what kind of tea? something warm, and soothing, and good for your throat. chamomile? peppermint? he’ll add a spoon of honey, just the way you like.

suguru’s mind spins in circles while his feet take him to the kitchen, hands swiftly rummaging through cabinets and getting the electric kettle ready. placing teacups and a teapot on the table, cute little floral designs he couldn’t help but fill your kitchen with. pouring hot peppermint tea into the pot, a strong scent drifting through the kitchen, drowning his senses in bliss.

caught up in his own head, losing track of time, suguru fails to notice you walking from the bathroom — stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, hesitant to make your presence known. a few silent moments pass. with a tiny inhale, mint invading your senses, you take a step forward. calm and sleepy, skin still pleasantly hot from the warm shower, hair still a little damp.

only then does suguru notice you, his gaze drifting to your figure as if instinctively drawn to it.

you’re clad in some comfortable sweatpants, and an oversized hoodie — his hoodie, the one with the unreasonably soft texture, the one you tend to gravitate towards — the one he likes to see you in the most, because you always look so thoroughly comfy in it. almost drowning in the fabric.

seeing you all warm and cozy, in his clothing no less, sends a tremor of pure warmth running through suguru’s chest. sprouting in his heart and spreading throughout his entire body. he can’t bring himself to resist the soft curl of his lips, gazing at you so fondly he’s almost sure you notice it.

”i made peppermint,” he says, a little breathless, already pouring boiling tea into two cups on the table. ”that okay?”

”yeah,” you answer, instantaneous. stifling a yawn. you’d have been fine with anything, really.

the shower worked wonders for your muddled mind; chasing away the shivers down your spine, that unpleasant chill to your skin. most importantly, it gave you a moment to simply relax, to bask in the peace and quiet. feel the hot water surround you, melt your bones like softened clay. you feel a little better, now. still anxious, more than a little sleepy, but better. and right now, that’s all you need.

with a groggy kind of pep in your step, you stumble over to the kitchen table, plopping down on the chair across from where suguru is sitting. trying to get comfortable, knees pressed against your chest, muttering a soft thank you while gingerly touching the rim of the cup.

(suguru frowns, just barely, at the sight. usually you’d sit right next to him. but now you’re in front of him, so very far — as if you’re strangers.

it breaks his heart, a little bit.)

a soft hum leaves your lips when you take a sip of the tea — all warm and comforting and minty on your tongue, a vague taste of something sweet. it’s relaxing, more than anything, and it makes you feel a little more okay with everything.

suguru only watches you, drinking absentmindedly from his own cup. not really tasting anything.

finally, he opts to clear his throat — and your attention falls on him instantly.

”hey,” he starts, ready to address the elephant in the room. his voice is gentle, but decisive, firm somehow. ”about before…”

your body tenses, ever so slightly, fingers uncurling around the handle of the teacup. there’s a kind of shift in the air around you, in suguru’s tone of voice — and you were expecting it, waiting for it anxiously, but that doesn’t make it any less harrowing.

here it comes, your mind seems to sing. here comes the moment everything shatters again.

with as much strength as you can muster, you smile. a little sheepish, just a tad forced, refusing to meet his eyes from across the table. staring into the murky green of your cup and hoping in vain that you can somehow escape this discomfort.

(you just want to rest. you just want to not have to think about anything.)

”it’s fine, suguru,” you cut him off. softly, but there’s a certain tilt to your voice that strikes him as rather cold. ”we can just drop it.”

the decision in his eyes doesn’t waver. you look meek, awfully troubled, and he hates to force you into another discussion when you’re undoubtedly tired — but suguru’s mind is set. he’s been evasive enough, today.

”no. i want to talk about it properly.”

at that, you seem to deflate a little. suguru is nothing if not stubborn, a quality that always manages to coexist with his gentleness, his desire to be a good partner for you. you can tell he won’t allow you to wriggle away, now that you’re both finally calm. he’s not doing it to exhaust you, not doing it to gain some sort of satisfaction out of ”winning” the argument — he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. even if it makes you both a little uncomfortable.

communication is important, immensely so. suguru knows it very well.

and you do, too.

so all you do is curl into yourself, shifting in your seat, allowing him to speak his mind and sipping quietly on your tea. biting back a disgruntled huff, gaze lingering on the tablecloth, little calico cats etched into the fabric. he wanted one with yellow stripes, but still bought this one just for you. just like the ugly matching couple mugs you forced him into buying, the green colour of your kitchen wallpaper. he always places you before himself.

(all you wanted was to change that. just for a night, if nothing else. and he got mad at you for it.)

suguru sighs. it sounds fatigued, not frustrated or disappointed. he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but follow the movement, the soft silky strands and the way he smooths them over. practiced, familiar, absentminded. you could watch him do it forever.

”i had a lot of time to think while you were gone,” he begins, recalling the mental gymnastics he went through while you were away. just sitting on the couch and running himself ragged, trying to be impartial, trying to see your point of view without letting his own bias get in the way.

you sink a little further into the chair, eyes downcast. inhaling the scent of peppermint, trying to prepare yourself for what he might say, the ways this could all go wrong.

”and i realized that you were right.”

…

you blink. once, then twice.

hesitantly, you raise your head, searching for suguru’s gaze. he isn’t looking at you, staring out at the rainfall through the window as if in deep thought. his gaze shifts to meet yours, and something soft flickers through his golden eyes.

he looks troubled, though. trying to find the right words, mind clouded by guilt. chewing at his bottom lip anxiously.

it takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to weigh the words in his mind, just to make sure he gets them across as smoothly as possible. he’s had more than enough time to verbalize his feelings, to think about what he wants to say to you. it was all he could do while he waited.

so his voice is earnest, when he continues, sincerely apologetic and thought out.

”i’m always telling you not to overwork yourself. and here i am, doing the same thing…” another sigh. ”you were just worried. i shouldn’t have lashed out — you didn’t deserve that.”

suguru searches for your gaze, and manages to find it. you falter a little under the weight of his eyes, but they’re warm, remorseful. a setting sun.

”i’m sorry.”

a moment of silence passes. then two. three, five. you look down at your cup, the purple hyacinths etched into the porcelain. crumbling under his gaze, at the sound of his genuine apology.

and suddenly, you feel silly — silly for being so scared, for thinking suguru might still be angry with you. for thinking he wouldn’t spend as much time as needed to properly think about your words, your feelings, even if he might not have been ready to do so when he first heard them.

suguru can be stubborn, if he’s convinced that he’s in the right. but he always, always seeks you out eventually, always makes sure to genuinely look at things from your perspective.

and, really, it means everything. it means enough to wash away all your leftover irritation, from having him brush you off when you know you didn’t do anything wrong. all the leftover sadness from being pushed away, from not being allowed to take care of him the way he always does for you.

suguru isn’t perfect, but he tries harder than anyone you know. tries his very best to be as close to perfect as he can possibly get — for you, for the both of you. he’s considerate enough, mature enough to take the time he needs to properly communicate. that’s how much he loves you.

and yes, doing so makes you a little uncomfortable. but when faced with something like that, someone so kind, who loves you like the rain loves the ground — how could you ever bear not to do the same?

”… it’s fine,” you start, softly. ”maybe i overreacted a bit. ’s just —” a gulp. you’re trying your best to verbalize your feelings, the way suguru just did, the way he always does.

and he waits, patiently. for as long as you need. looking at you from across the table softly, already immensely relieved at the lack of tension in the air.

”i don’t like seeing you so tired. i know that your work is important, and i support you, but…” your voice goes quiet, as you trail off, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. ”you know.”

and suguru does. he does understand, he always will. so he hums.

”i know,” he murmurs, softly. ”it wasn’t an overreaction. i just didn’t realize it myself. got too caught up in everything,” a sharp exhale leaves his lips. ”it’s been… a long week. i’m not using that as an excuse, though.”

you listen attentively, eyes softening at his words. you can tell that he means it, that you finally got your message across. all you wanted was for him to take a break, to take care of himself.

to let you take care of him.

suguru continues. he makes it a point to look into your eyes as he speaks — a little intimidating, especially in a situation like this — but you know it reassures him, that it lets him know you really understand what he’s trying to say.

so you hold his gaze, as steady as you can, glancing down at his collarbone when it becomes just a little too much.

”i’m grateful that i have you,” he says, voice dripping with softness, gazing at you with a fondness that has you crumbling all over again. ”and that you care enough to set me straight when i need it.”

and suguru means it. he means it more than anything else. not once has he ever stopped appreciating you, all the things you do for him; always so sweet and caring, even when it’s subtle. this was no exception. you’re always worried, always looking out for him. he feels awful for getting so defensive. for pushing you away, when you were trying so earnestly to reach him.

but he’ll make up for all of that, starting now.

”i mean it. i appreciate you so much, you have no idea — i’m so sorry if i made you think otherwise.” for a moment, his eyes look a little glassy, swimming in remorse. ”i really, really am.”

(and when he looks at you like that, when he speaks so very gently —

how could you ever bear not to forgive him?)

you shift in your seat again. gazing down, chewing at your bottom lip. his honesty makes you falter, makes it hard for you not to do the same; even if your voice ends up sounding awfully tiny and awfully close to breaking apart.

”… i was just worried,” you mumble, meekly, shooing away any tears you have left with rapid blinks.

”i know,” suguru soothes. the smile on his face is genuine, comforting, honey and peppermint and warmth. ”i was being immature. you were right — i’ve been burning myself out.”

you don’t say anything. only letting his words console you, feeling yourself relax at the sound of him opening up a little. just enough to make everything all better again.

”i was thinking of taking tomorrow off,” he continues, searching for your timid gaze and smiling gently once he finds it. ”what do you say?”

you brighten a little, so obvious in the way you sit up straighter, the way something soft and hopeful blossoms in the scope of your iris. the sight coaxes suguru’s patient smile into widening a smidge, his eyes crinkling at your barely contained excitement.

”that’d be nice…” you murmur, averting your gaze once more. but suguru can tell you like the sound of that, that it’s exactly what would finally put your anxious mind at ease.

a smile, bright and fond. suguru opens his arms.

”then i will.”

for a moment, you simply stare. at him, his outstretched limbs — that soft smile, as he waits for you to get the hint. and you blink.

oh.

you look down at your lap. a little sheepish, almost shy. it takes you another moment to raise your head, again, only to see another gentle flicker in suguru’s eyes — and then you finally get up from your seat.

it feels a little strange. a little awkward, as if some of your bones still can’t help but tread on eggshells, afraid of making him upset again. but it’s suguru, and he loves you, and his arms are waiting patiently to hold you.

and you want that more than anything.

so you fall into his arms, softly, curling up in his lap and wrapping your arms around his waist. suguru has one hand on the back of your head and the other on the small of your back, rubbing comforting circles into your spine to make you relax.

it works wonders. despite your initial hesitance, you melt into the embrace without putting up a fuss — happy to be in his arms again, to feel the anxiety dissipate when you realize that everything’s finally alright.

and suguru is just as happy, just as content. breathing out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. he strokes your hair lovingly, and you nuzzle into him a little more; making his lips quirk up, eyes filling with adoration. finally, he can relax. having you in his arms feels so soothing. and you’re so sweet, curling into him, seeking comfort and warmth that he’s more than happy to provide.

how long has it been since he had a chance to hold you like this? he made sure to be affectionate whenever he could, before leaving for work and after coming back — but in the midst of all the paperwork and stress…

suguru sighs, a little sadder this time, watching you bask in the attention he had been robbing you of this whole time. without even realizing it.

”and i’m sorry for neglecting you, too,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. muffled by your hair as he presses a kiss against the crown of your head.

that certainly gets your attention.

”neglecting me?” you sputter, eyes suddenly wide open and lips parted in disbelief. flustered, heat rushing to your neck and ears. ”wha — what am i, some high-maintenance puppy? you didn’t neglect me.”

suguru only chuckles, biting back a soft coo that he knows would only fluster you more. instead, he pulls away a little, just to look at you, and pecks your forehead softly.

”well, i’m sorry for not being around much, then. i’ll make it up to you. okay?”

hiding away in his collarbone, again, you mutter a soft okay that has suguru’s heart squeezing in his chest. he cradles you close, engulfs you in his embrace, and hopes you can feel his love through the action. hopes you can feel it in the way his arms fit around you like they were always meant to be right there.

and you do feel his love. feel it smooth away the leftover turmoil in your brain, caress your skin softly. it’s soothing, and comforting, and you feel so incredibly safe. here, in suguru’s embrace, with the sound of rain hitting the window and the scent of peppermint wafting through the kitchen — it’d be impossible not to relax.

before you know it, your eyelids have fluttered shut, breathing softening out and heartbeat slowing down. a peaceful rhythm, carrying you away. suguru notices it before you do.

”you sleeping, baby?”

you jolt a little in his arms — murmuring something unintelligible into his neck, and he only chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest like a soothing thunderstorm.

”c’mon. let’s get you to bed, hm?”

suguru smooths a hand down your back, arms tightening around you before he scoops you up and gets up from his seat. ”there we go,” he hums, helping you hike your legs around his waist. ”you can sleep, angel. i’ve got you.”

your arms tighten around him, and you inhale his scent; grounding and comforting, raindrops and roses. tomorrow you can bask in it properly, can take care of him properly. you’ll coddle him all day.

but for now, you need to get some rest.

allowing your senses to dull away, clinging to suguru like a makeshift pillow, you absently listen to the storm still raging on outside. faraway, cold and harsh, but comforting when you’re in his steady grasp.

a yawn escapes your honey-soothed throat.

you don’t miss the i love you murmured into your ear, accompanying you into dreamland as your eyes flutter shut.

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gojosblackqueen · 8 days

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thinking a lot of thoughts about bf!gojo :(

he will be the sweetest bf ever.. it's a bit concerning with how attached he is to you, bordering on codependency but he just cant help it he loves you too much :(( everytime youre both together on something like lunch with friends or hanging out the sight of you two is enough to give anyone who spares a glance cavities.. his eyes are so in love and hes always got that dopey smile on his face, his touch is always gentle and caring despite him being a teasing asshole sometimes 😭

and behind closed doors ... dear god this man is INSATIABLE.. always has to have a hand around you and touching you !!!! and his sex drive.. erm.. yeah.. idk i see him as the type to want to do it everyday because he just loves you too much and he doesnt know what to do with himself and all this love he has !!!! theres something sweet about him just always wanting you and wanting to make you feel good eufnhffhehrjfnf

the stark difference between you two being such a sweet couple in public but also .. having seen each other INSIDE OUT quite literally is so hot and cute.. :( that level of intimacy .. :((( BF!GOJO WE NEED YOU !!!!!! ok this has gotten too long im sorry HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU

HIIII MY SWEETHEART I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! BUT I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HERE!!!!! I'M HERE AND I'M FEELING TERRIBLY SOFT FOR HIM AND I NEED TO HAVE HIM IN MY ARMS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!!!!! i agree with everything you've said nonnie!!!! and i am covering you in kisses as thanks!!!! mwah mwah mwah!!!! wait also!!!!!!!!!!!! more exclamation marks!!!!!! please please please don't apologize for rambling!!!!!!!!!! i will always hear you out!!!!! i want more actually!!!!!!!!!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok everybody get comfortable bc i have some of bf!gojo headcanons for you!!!!

his pupils are literal hearts whenever he's with and whenever he's Thinking about you!!!! (i'm saying that his pupils are always like that)(he is simply unable to get you off his head)(he's not even trying)(he's so fucking in love with you).

he's constantly resting his head on your head or on your shoulder. this just came to me. he wraps his hands around your middle and he always gives you a squeeze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a kiss on your neck. and he probably (read: definitely) smells you. and then hums into your skin. omfg i need to hug him so badly. i am losing my mind here nonnie...

okay and i just talked abt him taking naps with you too, right? and i just can't stop thinking about him always taking pics of you whenever you fall asleep on top of him:(((((((((((((( drooling or not, he's taking the pic!!!!!! AND i truly believe that he has begged (literally begged down on his hands and knees) shoko and suguru, so that they'll take pics of the two of you together aswell!!! satoru has a folder with like a THOUSAND pics of you both just napping together:((( he goes through it whenever he's really missing you:(((((((

ok and he loves taking showers and baths with you. loves, loves, loves. he just wants to sit under or in the water with you, just feeling your skin against him. feeling your heartbeat against him. he likes the intimacy of it all. it's so tender and so soft and so loving and he just wants to do everything with you. he's gonna take a fucking piss with you if you'd only let him.

he loves your smile sm. this is such a basic little concept but he does. nothing else in this sick world brings him as much joy as your smile and laughter. and oh my fucking god his heart feels like it's going to explode whenever he makes you laugh (which is all the time let's be honest he's very fucking funny and he is not afraid of making himself look like a fool just for you<3). he loves it when you laugh at cat videos, he loves it when you laugh at whatever the fuck is playing on the tv and he loves it when you laugh at a joke one of his friends make!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he goes a little insane whenever he sees you having fun with his friends:((((((((((((((((((((( it just means the world to him:(((( and you and the younger ones too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omfg when he sees you coddling gumi and yuuji and nobara:((((((((((((((((( stop, he literally feels like he's going to cry every time i am also crying i can't do this anymore

btw he always swings your hands whenever his fingers are interwiened with yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!! and he has that big dopey smile on his lips again and his dimples are showing and he's laughing so loudly that everybody is turning to look at you both on the street but you couldn't care any less!!!!!!! how could you when your boyfriend is making your heart grow twice the size it was before and you just feel so giddy and so full of love and you want to kiss him stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he loves spending his morning with you. i actually think of him as more of a morning person actually idk how popular that concept is but yeah. don't get me wrong - he refuses to let you up from the bed for at least an hour after you wake up but he does have a lot of energy. he wants to kiss and he wants to hug and he wants to tickle and he wants you to play with his hair and he wants and he wants and he wants and you will give and give and give!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's a little lovesick puppy and he needs your attention like he needs air!!!!!

and then he wants you to brush his teeth for him. yes. you read that right. he sits you down onto the bathroom counter and bares his teeth at you like the puppy that he is and HE'S SO FUCKING CUTEEEEEE FUCKKKK CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS SO REAL I NEED TO JUST SQUEEZE HIM A LITTLE AAAAAAAAAAA I NEED TO PINCH HIS CHEEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!! he still looks sleepy and his smile is so fucking big and his hands are resting on your hips, his thumbs are drawing hearts into your skin. and he most definitely kisses you before he actually rinses his mouth.............. and then laughs when the toothpaste gets all over you. it's a mess and he's laughing and you're in love.

he loves it when you baby him. he does ask for it as a joke but when you genuinely do it he gets a little flustered. the tips of his ears always turn into a shade of dark pink and he's looking at you like puss in boots. you know what i'm talking abt. big eyes, fluttering eyelashes - he loves you so fucking much. he loves it when you tuck him in bed, he loves it when you kiss his nose, he loves it when you pinch his cheeks i am biased i just said i want to do that don't look at me, he loves it when you tickle him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAIT STOP HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU TICKLE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS YOU TO STRADDLE HIM AND TICKLE THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF HIM HE WANTS TO LAUGH WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i died

he also loves it when you cling to him. in any way. hands around his neck, around his body, around his arms - it does not matter. he wants you to quite literally climb him like a tree. he loves it when you snuggle into him and when you refuse to let him go. and when you hold his hand and try to stop him from leaving. he's not going to go. it doesn't take a lot for him to give into you. he's folding immediately. he doesn't want to go either. he loves it when you're needy. he loves it when you whine. he loves it when you tease him. he might pop a boner. at everything you do. he just loves you sooooooooooo muchh!!

18+ HE IS INSATIABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS THEE LOVERBOY!!!!!! i think he does like to get a taste of you every single day, no matter whether it's actually having sex or it's eating you out or it's just making out or it's entertaining you with his beautiful slender fingers or it's dry humping etcetcetc. he wants to touch you, he wants to feel you - it's a must!!

i already said it but he loves intimacy!!!! like yeah ofc he likes his freaky sex as much as the next guy (he most definitely likes it more than the next guy) but he loooooves when he can just be in the moment with you!! he's always savouring you - holding your hand when his burying his dick deep inside you, he's snaking his arm around your body as he grinds into you from behind. he's licking and nipping at your skin because he just can't get enough of you. he's sucking on your tongue, he's pressing your hips down against his, he's kissing every fucking inch of your body. i truly think he wants to eat you and he wants to devour you and he wants to merge the two of you together forever<33

okay i have officially melted away... i am a puddle of love Goo... ily nonnie

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