Tumgik
#and now satoru has to elaborate on some
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Hehe
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Satoru always: im just a little guy i did nothing wrong DO NOT look at all the war crimes my clan spent a fortune to erase from history
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wolfish-trickster · 21 days
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Don't make me choose
Gojo x fem!reader
Part 2
Word count: 1.4K
Summary: it's been some time since you've started dating the infamous Satoru Gojo. But lately you feel more like the two of you are just cuddle/fuck buddies and not a real couple. You make him choose his priorities which is something the strongest doesn't like.
Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort
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When Gojo Satoru first asked you out you couldn't be happier. The first time he caught your eye was when he zoomed past you together with Geto on one bike. You got so startled you fell to the ground and scratched your knee. You thought at first that they will just leave you there and probably laugh at you later at a pub, talking to their friends how they knocked over a clumsy girl in a park. What completely shocked you was Gojo running up to you with Geto pushing their bike behind him asking you if you were okay and if you need any help.
The rest is history.
Now, three years later, things have been going well. Mostly.
You had the ultimate boyfriend experience. Nice dates, wholesome anniversaries, moving in together, having fun. You did everything in your power to not get boring, for him to not get bored. You cooked, cleaned, asked him how his day was, acted silly with him even when you were exhausted after a long day.
So why? Why was he spending more and more of his free time away from you?
It started out small. The first time you started noticing was like a month ago. As soon as he came home he told you he's going to the pub with Geto and Nanami. You told him to have fun of course, not wanting to seem like that girlfriend that doesn't allow their boyfriends having fun without them. Then from one weekend it became every weekend. Both of you were busy during the week, the only time you had for yourself was during the night and weekend. It soon became just nights.
Even during the week it was "babe, i have a day off tomorrow i'm going to Geto's" or "sorry we have to move the date night to sometime else, Geto is sick and has no one to take care of him" and once even "babe, remember how you told me about this place you used to love as a child? I'm going there with Geto! What a coincidence, right?". The last one hurt the most. Honestly, the last one was also what made you start noticing these in the first place. Once you looked into the past and counted all the times Gojo chose to spend his free time with his best friend instead of you you nearly slapped yourself. It was too many times. How could've you been so blind?
All off days were for Geto. All special days were once again for Geto. Weekends, holidays, his and yours birthdays, all for Geto fucking Suguru.
You needed to have a talk with him.
If he comes back that is. Lately he started to have sleepovers with Geto. As if both of them were teenage girls. You did ask to join them but they always told you off to "not disturb their boy time".
Steps echo outside your apartment. The door unlocks. And in comes...
"Babe," comes the voice of your beloved white haired guy, "I'm home."
"I can hear that," came your answer. You prayed it didn't sound too agressive. Your stomach was full of nervous butterflies, making it even worse to come up with a decent way to start the talk.
While you were thinking he came from the entrance hall to the kitchen where you were sitting and kissed you on the crown of your head. "I wanted to ask, do we have plans next wendesday? Because Suguru said he'd-"
"Listen," you interrupted him before he could even finish, "can we talk?"
Gojo chuckled. "That's a very scary sentence."
"Why? Have something to hide?"
"Nope," he put his bag down and leaned his back against the wall, "I'm listening. What is it?"
You took a deep breath. Then another. "Don't you think you're spending a little too much time with Geto?"
His playful smile loosend into a neutral line. "Elaborate?"
"It's just... you've been with him so much lately and I miss being with you-"
"I'm with you all the damn time. Every single night we-"
"Can't you let me finish?!" you said a little louder than intended but enough is enough. "Is that all you see me as? A fuck-buddy to warm your bed?"
Gojo groaned in annoyance. "No, of course not. But you're literally overreacting over here!"
"Overreacting? How? By wanting my boyfriend to be home on his off days? To spend some time with me and have fun like before?"
"Have fun times with you? What am I your babysitter?"
"Are you Geto's? All the fun stuff we used to do you're doing with him!"
"No, no darling," he stood up straight and walked towards you, backing you into the corner, "all the stuff we used to do I did with him first. He's my best friend! I've known him half my life! You have to have at least a bit of empathy to understand that."
Even cornered by a giant of a guy like him you didn't feel fear. The butterflies in your stomach died. What remained was just pain in your chest predicting what was about to come.
"Do you even see me as your girlfriend anymore, Gojo?"
"Oh, so we are on last name terms again?" he asked sarcastically and walked away to pour himself a cup of water.
"Answer me."
You watched him drink. Slowly. You've never seen a man drink this slow.
"Of course I do," he put the glass down, "what kind of a bullshit question is that?"
"It's how I feel Gojo. You're never here with me!"
"I am here now aren't I?" he poked his chest with his forefinger. "I'm here every single day and night, twentyfour fucking seven ever since we moved in together! Well excuse me I want to have some quality time with my best friend from time to time!"
You didn't want this. The yelling, the arguing. But it has to be done.
Now as a finishing touch. "Who do you value more?"
"Excuse me?" was all he said, too surprised to not hear you yell in return, just calmly asking your question.
"Who is more important to you? Your best friend or your girlfriend?"
Gojo covered his face with his palms and threw his head back. "You can't be serious right now," he groaned. "Suguru is my best friend. You can't just make me choose!"
"So I'm below a best friend. I might as well be called your friend with benefits..." you say more to yourself than him.
"There you go hating yourself again," he shook his head. "I get it, you want to hear me say how much you mean to me, how you're the most important thing in the world and other stuff I've told you a million times already and yet you still slip into this state. I might as well record myself saying those things so you could listen to them everytime you're attention starved," he pinched the bridge of his nose.
He sighed. "You know what? I'm tired of this. I still care about you, but you have to understand Suguru is-"
"I know," you interrupt his rant. "I'm tired too."
Gojo sighs. "Okay. Good. I knew we could talk this out," he said and picked up his sleepover bag again. "I hate arguing with you."
He walked past you to the bathroom to dump his pyjamas into dirty laundry. "Let's go to bed, okay?" he shouted from there.
After a quick shower he walked out the bathroom with nothing but sweatpants on and a towel around his neck.
However you weren't there. Not in the bedroom, nor living room, nor anywhere else. Confused Gojo walked around the apartment, looking for any signs where you might be hiding. Maybe you want to jumpscare him again to light up the tension?
Fine, two can play this game. He tiptoed into the bedroom to your massive closet and yanked it open.
You weren't there. But neither were your things. He quickly checked under the bed to see your beloved backpack missing.
Panicked he started calling out for you, thinking this was just a prank.
It wasn't.
You made him choose and without even realizing it he did.
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in-class-daydreams · 6 months
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Just Between Us (Satoru Gojo x Reader)
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Utahime!Reader Synopsis: You possess a coveted ability, the Blessed Womb, meaning your offspring will bear any and all cursed techniques in their father's bloodline. As such, you've lived a life isolated from society, to protect your rare capability. But what about you? Is that all you are? A womb? You refuse to be reduced to what your body can do. You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The Universe seems to have designed you to be twin flames, but by now you happen to resent the Universe making all your decisions for you. Set around the beginning of the school year of Gojo's second year of high school. Notes/TW: Toxic patriarchy & arranged marriage culture. Reader is sheltered to an abusive degree. Some mentions of blood. Gojo and reader argue a whole bunch and yes, that's a warning. Fem pronouns used and the reader has a uterus for plot reasons.
“The hell do you mean you kissed Geto?” you shout at Gojo.
You sat at your vanity, painstakingly plucking pins from the elaborate updo that the maids put your hair into. Your personal attendant, Miwako, would have a heart attack with how harsh you were being with her labor of love, but she had enough survival instincts to leave you and Gojo be. This wasn’t the first fight of yours she’d been in proximity to, and it wouldn’t be the last.
The boy in question leans against your dresser. He’s still wearing his school uniform, not even having the decency to change clothes for your birthday ceremony while you’d been getting trussed up like a Christmas ham since 6 am.
“Technically, he kissed me. And it was just the one time,” he drawls. Your oldest friend stares off into space, likely reminiscing the feeling of kissing one Suguru Geto. You’d never seen the man, since he never had a reason to visit the Utahime Estate and you weren’t allowed to leave. Gojo would have shown you pictures, if your clan elders allowed any blue light on the premises.
You pointedly avoid his gaze - he wasn’t paying attention to you anyhow, probably too busy thinking about Geto - and busy yourself with dismantling the amalgamation of clips and pins that was your hairstyle.
“You’re mad,” Gojo says.
“What would I be mad for, Satoru?” you reply simply.
He counts on his fingers. “First, you’re not looking at me. Second, you called me ‘Satoru,’ and third, I know everything about you, I know when you’re mad.”
You resent that. Gojo was always under the assumption that he knew, as he said, “everything about you,” and you were always positive that he was full of it. He might have been your oldest friend, and he was a significant part of your life, but in light of all the “fate this” and “destiny that” talk from just about everyone you’ve ever met, you were adamant that your thoughts were your own.
You and Satoru Gojo were born on the same cold day in December 1989. The heir to the Gojo Clan first opened his eyes around 6 am, just as the sun broke the horizon and turned the sea of indigo night to golden morning. You, who would be imbued with the Blessed Womb and therefore responsible for the fate of the Utahime Clan, filled your mother’s bedroom with your newborn wails just before 5 pm, when the orange and periwinkle and blue and blush were being covered in a blanket of night. The sight of you brought tears to your big sister’s eyes.
The two of you were introduced to each other as soon as possible, swaddled in your respective blankets and placed beside each other. What your clans envisioned, you’d never know, but baby Satoru wailed in his mother’s arms until his swaddle made contact with yours. All froze in stunned silence when you both immediately fell into a peaceful slumber. It was as if the stars made you to be two parts of a whole.
Within that year, when you were having trouble learning to roll over, you finally did so to come face to face with him. Months later, his first steps were towards you. His mother liked to say that you were a cosmic match, and she guessed that your mother would have said the same thing, had she survived your birth.
The two of you were a fairytale straight out of a storybook.
You would come to resent that.
Where was your own agency? Were you to inevitably fall for a man whom destiny chose for you? What about what you wanted? Why did you not have a say in the universe’s great plan for you?
But none of that mattered, for as you grew older and the true nature of your Blessed Womb came to light, each scrap of autonomy you possessed was stripped away. For much of your childhood, you shared a joint birthday party, alternating between estates each year. As soon as it was up to him, Satoru decided that any celebrations would be just about you. Maybe he believed he was doing you a favor, but all that did was concentrate all the public scrutiny onto you.
You click your tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re free to do whatever you want. I’m happy for you and your new boyfriend.”
“It’s not like that,” he says.
A bobby pin slips from your grip and flings into the mirror, bouncing to the ground. You grunt in frustration and spin around to face him.
“What’s it like, then?” you demand.
He raises his hands up in defense. “It felt weird! We’re good where we’re at, and– Look, I’m not a mind reader, okay? You say with your mouth that you’re happy for me, and then you act pissed off. Which is it and what do you want from me?”
When you try to look away again, he leans the same way, forcing himself into your field of view every time you turn your head.
“Are you mad you’re not my first kiss? Is that it?” You pause at his question and stare at him blankly. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he adds, “You’re my first everything else, princess, you can’t let someone else have this one?”
You grab the first thing within reach - a pretty metal claw clip - and fling it at him. He catches it easily.
“Shut up! You’re so–!” you shout, unable to find an insult suitable for the ire you feel. “You’re so!”
“Full of myself?” he helpfully supplies.
“Don’t put words in my mouth!” you snap. “You’re so damn full of yourself, it’s a wonder you have room for anyone else!” You turn your back to him. “Maybe you don’t.”
 The house servants, and probably your sister if she was in her room, were plenty used to yours and Gojo’s spats by now. You heard from a particularly loose-lipped new maid that there’s a running tally in the staff quarters keeping score of who wins your arguments. She wouldn’t say more, but you like to believe that you’re winning. “Don’t think I care who you put your thin, crusty lips–”
“My lips are soft and supple!”
“Thin–” you emphasize. “--crusty lips on! You can kiss my grandmother for all I care, if she lets you anywhere near her.”
“Grandma Utahime wishes she could get herself a taste of this!”
“Whatever!” You rubbed your temples and tried to will away what you called your “Gojo Headache.” All the headaches caused by him stretched all the way across your forehead and somehow made your jaw ache. They were unmistakable and exclusive.
“See, that’s what pisses me off,” Gojo says, gesturing with one hand. “We argue and when you don’t want to argue any more, you just say ‘whatever’ and nothing gets solved.”
“What part of me not wanting to argue any more do you not understand? You’re so stubborn, it’s not worth it!” you reply.
There’s a light knock at the door. Through it, you hear Miwako’s muffled voice bid you goodnight.
She can’t see you, but you lower your head and speak as soft and sweet as possible. “Thank you, Miwako. Sleep well, and thank you for attending me today.” Then you turn back to Satoru. “But if you’re going to be a pain in the ass about it–”
“I’m the pain in the ass?”
“-- I’ll tell you why I’m mad! I woke up this morning, drank that nasty red ginseng tea, got in the tub, got every inch of me scrubbed down and then lotioned. The attendants brought me into the main hall where I sat and did tea ceremony while the jujutsu clans paraded their men around in front of me, insisting that my grandmother - not me - agrees to a marriage alliance to unite the clans.” Gojo opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not done. “Iori refused to make eye contact with me all day - just like she does every year on my birthday - so the last person I was counting on was you! So excuse me if I’m upset that you showed up late, made me face the Kamo Clan, Naoya Zenin, and the Inumaki Clan’s ten year old successor on my own, then had the audacity to come in and act like it’s fine to talk about your love life like everything is fine and dandy for us both, because it isn’t! It’s just great for you!”
You take a deep breath, panting by now. It’s been a while since you ripped Gojo a genuine new one. Usually, the two of you have minor spats over things you can’t remember and call it a day. The two of you don’t even apologize, you just move on.
The problem was, things would always be harder on you than him. While you sympathized with the insurmountable pressure he must be feeling as the heir of both of his clan’s techniques, he was a man. In the archaic values of the jujutsu upper nobility, he would be free to make more of his own decisions in one day than you would in your entire life. That, and he wasn’t cursed with a Blessed Womb.
You’re still shaking with rage when you glance at Gojo. Even behind his blackout shades, you can see that his eyes are blown wide. But when he finally formulates a reply, you decide that there’s nothing he can say right now that won’t piss you off, so you go over to the window and check outside to see if the coast is clear.
Over your shoulder, you tell him, “Go home, Satoru, every time you open your mouth, you piss me off.”
You throw a leg over the sill and heave yourself up. Gojo follows close behind.
“As if I ever let you boss me around,” he scoffs. He holds a hand out for you to stabilize yourself and you swat it away.
Bringing the other leg over, you land in the grass with a quiet thump. “Point proven,” you deadpan.
Gojo doesn’t even need to use his hands to help him. They remain in his pockets as he takes a high step through the window and easily slips out behind you. It’s an awkward fit for him with limbs as unwieldy as his.
You stalk off through the darkness to the edge of the estate. You quietly slip through and make your way down the path towards gardens. Not many flowers are in bloom this time of year, but the hedges stand tall and obscure you from view of the house.
Gojo ambled along beside you, leaned far back with his questionable posture. You don’t hate him, despite how vicious your fights could be. He was the only person who didn’t treat you differently from everyone else. Funny, considering he was more tied to your existence than anyone else. Even if he liked to push your buttons, he saw you for you, not what you were cursed with.
You were only four years old when extensive genetic testing revealed that you were imbued with an exceedingly rare, ancient power your clan took to calling the Blessed Womb. After studying the signs of its manifestation, the direction of the entire clan became geared towards finding you an auspicious match.
The major jujutsu clans, and many of the minor ones, possessed more than one cursed technique per clan. However, it was rare for any one sorcerer to be born with talents in more than one technique, Satoru being the first in generations to possess both the Six Eyes and Limitless. Precedence and sparse written records dictated that if you coupled with a jujutsu sorcerer, your offspring was not only guaranteed to possess whatever your own abilities were, but they’d manifest any and all of their father’s techniques as well.
Needless to say, the sharks frenzied once word got out.
You flop down in the grass and lay on your back to look up at the night sky. The estate was more isolated from the city and had no electric lights. The stars twinkled above, and you almost felt sorry for cursing them so. Emphasis on almost, seeing as they had no qualms about doing the same to you.
“Who cares about the yearly marriage exhibition?” Gojo asked. He joined you in the grass, leaning back on his hands. “When the time comes, you’re just gonna marry me, right?” When you don’t reply, he continues, “We were born on the same day, these superstitious old crones wouldn’t go back on that.”
“Shut up, Satoru,” you think to yourself. Not that he would have, had you said it aloud.
“We marry, you don’t have to deal with them ever again, and you’re free,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You can even get a boyfriend, if you want, I don’t mind.”
“And then what, Satoru?” You can’t keep the irritation out of your voice. “We live complacently in our loveless marriage and I help you rebuild your clan, give you an heir even stronger than you, and we all live happily ever after? You, me, and our respective side pieces?”
Satoru goes quiet. For all the times you’ve told him to shut his mouth, his silence puts a pit in your stomach. The air doesn’t feel quite right without his voice.
“Hey, I–”
“I thought we knew each other better than that,” he says quietly.
Something ugly wells inside you. A warped monster born of feelings you locked away years ago. It lived in the dark, starving, uncared for until it morphed into a malicious caricature of what it used to be.
No matter what you feared you felt, you couldn’t love Satoru Gojo. Period.
One day, you’d be free. You would withhold the usage of your Blessed Womb from the world. You would go childless to maintain scraps of your autonomy, and you’d learn to live your own life. Study jujutsu sorcery, rent an apartment you could decorate. Anything to stop feeling like you were being jerked around by fate.
As for Gojo, he wanted a family. Something to call his own, where he didn’t have to be the strongest. He could just be Satoru. And to accept that life with him would mean compromising your own desires. Besides, was your love for him a choice you made or was it yet another thing fate wanted to force upon you?
“I’m sorry,” you say, because you are. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.”
He lies down on his side facing you. You respond in kind, rolling over to face him just like the first time when you were children.
Your clan would be scandalized by your proximity. His warm breath tickles your face. He smells of crushed spearmint and clean linen.
Funny how if your lives weren’t so intertwined, you might’ve let yourself love him fully.
Gojo leans forward slowly enough for you to pull back if you want. Against your better judgment, you don’t. He stops and it becomes quickly apparent that he won’t move any further. If you want this, you have to close the gap.
All you want is to close your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his. You imagine they’re soft as he claimed and you’d know you’re in trouble when the butterflies aren’t just in your stomach. They’d be splashed across your nose, collecting in your fingertips, and fluttering down your legs, and just like that, you’d be his.
You can’t have that, now, can you?
Gojo’s eyes snap open when your warmth disappears. You sit up and he follows suit, looking more uncertain than you’d ever seen him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks and you shake your head furiously, both as a response and to clear your head.
Avoiding his gaze, you reply, “No?”
“Is that a question or?”
“Look, Satoru, we’ve had a lot of firsts together and today was the first time we didn’t, right?” You rip up the grass beneath you in your fingers. 
Gojo jumps to his feet, furious. “No way you’re punishing me for what happened with Suguru!”
“I’m not punishing you for shit!” You throw your hands up in the air. “Can’t I say two sentences without you interrupting me?”
“Then talk!” Gojo shouts back, uncaring that the two of you could be heard. “Explain to me what your problem is!”
“I’m surprised you wanna hear it, at this point!” you retort, getting to your feet.
“Of course I do! I always do when it’s you!”
“All I’m saying is maybe we don’t have to be each other’s firsts for everything! You got to have your first kiss with your first love, so I want to save mine for the same!” you finish.
Gojo freezes, and you take that to mean you’re right on the money.
“I–” you run a hand through your hair. “I know you like you know me. And I’ve never heard you talk about anyone or anything the way you talk about him, so. Yeah. I’m not mad, Toru. I promise. I am happy for you.”
His face is unreadable, which is saying something coming from you. Your oldest friend looks a mix of incredulous, confused, and something else you can’t place.
He shakes his head. More. And he keeps shaking it until you think his eyes are going to fall out.
“You know what, I–” He groans in frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that? I’m not mad you don’t want to kiss me, that’s fine, that’s up to you, I would never hold that against you in this lifetime or the next or the dozen after that, but my problem is with everything else you just said!”
“Who said I don’t want to kiss you, Toru? Don’t put words in my mouth!” you reply.
“Is that the only thing you listened to?”
Something inhuman screeches near the front gate, effectively cutting off the conversation at hand. You pale. With someone as valuable as you on the premises, the Utahime Estate had state-of-the-art protections in place. Nothing unauthorized should have been able to make it anywhere near.
Gojo puts his glasses back on. “Stay here.”
“What? No, I’m coming with you!” you insist, but he’s not having it.
“Just because I taught you to fight doesn’t mean I want you doing it! Stay here!” And with that, Gojo runs off into the night.
You watch him take a few steps then disappear and not for the first time, you wish you could teleport, too. Reaching into your sleeve,  you pull a spool of red thread from a small pocket inside.
Seconds later, their hair on your arms stand on end and a sense of foreboding overtakes you. You hear a low growl behind you and smile. Time to put Gojo’s teachings to the test.
~
Your clanmates find you right where Gojo left you, panting and covered with curse blood and unidentifiable chunks. Red threads hang tangled and limp from both your hands.
The clan’s matriarch, your grandmother, shuffles up to you and grabs your chin, tilting it from side to side searching for blemishes of any sort. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan fussed over how a curse could have made it past the protections.
“Where’s Toru?” you ask tiredly. The cursed spirit that attempted to ambush you was relatively easy to beat, large, but awkward and slow-moving, but it still took some movement on your part to dispatch it. You could only hope that Gojo didn’t meet anything too menacing.
Right on cue, because he loved to make an entrance, Gojo strolled across the yard, hands in his pockets like it was a warm, sunny day in the park and not nearly midnight. But what really caught your clan’s attention was the tall, wide older man marching at his side. You’d never seen him before and you couldn’t recall Gojo mentioning him in any of his stories from school.
Gojo walks right through the small crowd and stopped in front of you and your grandmother.
“Everyone, I’d like you all to meet my teacher, Mr. Masamichi Yaga,” he says.
The older man bows to the matriarch. “As Gojo said, I’m a second-year instructor at Tokyo Jujutsu High.”
Your grandmother gives a withering stare of disapproval. “And I assume Satoru has a very good reason for bringing an unauthorized adult man onto my estate, especially with my granddaughter present.”
With an appearance as painstakingly maintained as yours, you and your clan quickly learned that the men that got to be in your presence required strict curating, lest the wrong man get the wrong idea.
“Actually, I’m here because of your granddaughter,” Yaga says.
“What would a jujutsu instructor possibly want with her?” When your grandmother asked questions, it wasn’t because she needed an answer. More often than not, she’d already put two and two together and was seeing if they had the balls to say it aloud for her.
“I mean, she just slayed a Grade 2 cursed spirit, so,” Gojo shrugs.
Everyone who knew of Satoru Gojo had an opinion of him, and people could say what they wanted, but if nothing else, he was a gifted instructor. Every movement during your fight felt comfortable, confident, controlled.
“Lady Utahime, it is as good as law that those who possess a cursed technique must attend formal schooling in jujutsu sorcery,” Yaga explains something she knows full well.
Your grandmother gives him a long look, then glares at you.
“It seems as though she’s picked up a thing or two on her own.” Her gaze pierces through Gojo and it was unclear who truly possessed the Six-Eyes. To his credit, though, he just smiled at her guilelessly. She clicked her tongue. “Well played, Satoru.” To you, she says, “You will perform your full duty to the clan. We did not spend generations building our life only for you to squander it with your selfishness.”
You blink. “Yes, grandmother.” You’re honestly lost at this point.
“Pack your things, get out of my sight. Yaga, come with me to discuss terms.” She turns to head back towards the house with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Let us pray that Satoru Gojo truly is the strongest.”
The rest of the entourage follows close behind her. You watch them go until Gojo slings an arm over your shoulders, nonplussed by the blood and entrails still covering you.
“Yay! Let’s go pack your stuff!” He drags you towards your room. “You can live right next to me, and whatever you don’t have, we can buy in the city, my treat!” He cheers.
“Hold on!” You pull back and easily slip out of his grasp. Clearly he only meant to guide you and you were always free to escape his hold. “What am I missing here?”
Gojo grins boyishly and takes you by the hands.
“Starting right now, you’re going to be a student at Jujustu High!” he announces.
Your jaw goes slack. “What? I can’t! I’ve never even left the estate! My grandmother would never agree to this!”
Taking one hand and dropping the other, Gojo pulls you - more gently - towards your room.
“She just did. Now, come on! Before she changes her mind!”
As you struggle to keep up with his long strides, the pieces begin to come together in your mind. Your grandmother was always very strict, to say the least, and she insisted that you complete your duty to the clan. Since birth, it had been drilled into your head that your bride price, along with other gifts of good will and an alliance with another clan, would single handedly revive your dying clan. To be fair, you could see the logic. You only wished you didn’t have to sacrifice every aspect of your life.
But maintaining your beauty was a show of wealth. Your Blessed Womb would be plenty to secure everything the clan needed. With it, even if you had one eye and three noses, you’d have a barrage of suitors.
What’s more, doctors concluded that your unnaturally high output of cursed energy was the key component in your mother’s death during your birth. Grandmother hadn’t done anything about it yet, but it was the general consensus that if you had a strong control of your own technique, your chances of surviving childbirth were much higher. There was just that one final push to force your grandmother to relinquish control of you.
“Those curses didn’t break through our defenses,” you say in realization. “You let it in. That’s how Mr. Yaga was here.”
Gojo doesn’t turn back, but you can see his cheeks shift with his smile.
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he says.
“That’s why you were late today,” you say quietly. A pit grows in your stomach. “You were setting all this up.”
He squeezes your hand and guides you into your bedroom. He lets you go and flops onto your bed, arms and legs spread like a starfish.
“I promised I’d help you be free of this estate one day. Remember what you said to me a couple years ago?” he asks.
Forcing yourself to move, you pull out the necessities and throw them on the bed. “Not really, no.”
“You said, and I quote,” he took on a high-pitched falsetto, “”If I spent all my time waiting for a man to rescue me, I’d never get anything done.” Do you remember that?”
Vividly, but you decide he doesn’t need to know that. You already gave him a free pass for that piss poor imitation of you. You grab a few select pieces of your favorite hair accessories.
“Sort of,” you reply.
“All I did today was give you an opportunity.” His eyes, the color of the heavenly sky, focus on you. “Congratulations, my twin flame. You rescued yourself tonight.”
~~
(A/N: Will this get more parts? Probably. Lmk what you think and thanks for reading <;3)
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gyomei · 1 month
Text
fuck, marry, kill ☆ jjk series.
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・SYNOPSIS: given the three characters — fushiguro toji, nanami kento, and gojo satoru — you've chosen just who you wanted to fuck, marry, kill. and in result, the game has come up with three elaborate storylines for you to follow.
・( CONTENT ) each chapter has its own specific warnings, but please be aware that this series will contain explicit sexual & violent content. minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact !
・SIDE NOTE. each chapter will have easter eggs that hints to others, but you can read them separately.
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・── OBJECTIVE : FUCK FUSHIGURO TOJI.
what started off as two friendly workers transpires into something more when toji asks you out for a couple of drinks one night. and when the two of you agree that your sexual relationship would be nothing more, both of your hearts and emotions yearn for the inevitable.
⟶ play scenario.
・── OBJECTIVE : MARRY NANAMI KENTO.
you used to believe that valentine's day was just another holiday made to capitalize off of couples, but it isn't until you're stood up on a blind date on the detested holiday that you finally meet the one.
⟶ play scenario ( RELEASE DATE: UNKNOWN )
・── OBJECTIVE : KILL GOJO SATORU.
you've loved gojo satoru for years, always a friend that you've cherished deeply, putting in more love than any of his past relationship ever did. you swore his eyes would twinkle the same way yours did and the way he'd say your name held some underlying meaning to it. however, your rejection cuts deeply as you want nothing more than to carve out his heart now.
⟶ play scenario ( RELEASE DATE: UNKNOWN )
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subscribers' inquiry. to subscribe for updates on chapter releases, please send all inquiries to @gyomai's inbox.
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ryukatters · 8 months
Note
i’m politely requesting an elaboration on gojo liking brats pretty please ( 〃..)
pairing: gojo x fem!reader
cw: edging, overstimulation, praise, some breathplay
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Gojo likes to spoil you rotten.
He has no issue with buying you material things, he can make it happen with a simple swipe of his card. He loves spoiling you with his love and affection, pampering you as he coos and praises until you’re red in the face.
His adoration and utter devotion makes you feel like a glutton, and Gojo’s more than happy to keep providing until you’re full (because even when you think you can’t take anymore, you can. Because Gojo says so).
Anything to keep his baby happy. Spoiled.
But that’s where his predicament lies.
“Fuck, ‘toru,” you moan, back arching off the mattress as Satoru plows into you.
You’re dangerously close.
“Be good,” he warns, warm hand on your tummy to push you back down flat against the mattress. “Look at me.” So you do. He’s smiling but you can see the predatory glint in his eyes, almost like they’re challenging you to disobey him.
He’s been edging you for what feels like hours now. Satoru may be sweet, but times like these show just how primal and sadistic he can be— getting off on making you cry and beg for him.
“‘Toru, ‘toru I can’t! It’s too much,” you whine. Your head feels dizzy and all your senses are being bombarded by Satoru. It’s too overwhelming.
“But it’s not enough princess,” he coos, pressing his lips to yours before deepening the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hard, and he feels a wave of satisfaction and pleasure wash through him as you clench around his length. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get his fill.
You feel yourself edge towards your climax once more, words bubbling up your throat but dying on the tip of your tongue as you prepare yourself to beg once again for your release. Surely, your boyfriend can’t refuse you again?
“Baby, gonna cum, please—”
The building pressure dies down as quickly as it comes. Satoru pulls out, cock glistening from evidence of your consummation.
“No.”
“B-but, why?” You sputter, tears threatening to spill from your lashline.
“Because I said so,” he says simply. “Don’t be a brat.”
You grip the sheets in frustration. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve been brought so devastatingly close to your climax, only to have it ripped away from you. You’re not sure how much more you can take.
“Satoru, just make me fucking cum already,” you spit, tone vexing.
All movements stop. Satoru’s looking at you, eyes wide, like he can’t believe his baby had the spunk to lash out at him. The look of surprise melts into a contemplative one.
“Guess I haven’t fucked you stupid yet,” he tuts, large hands cupping your tits, pinching your nipples hard, smiling as it elicits a particularly sinful moan from you, “since you still have that little attitude of yours.” One hand travels up your chest to wrap around the base of your throat, squeezing firmly.
You feel your mouth run dry and your pussy clench around nothing.
“Beg.”
The simple command has you sputtering, babbling desperately pleas you hope are enough to satisfy him. They’re not.
“Tell me you need me. That I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.” Satoru is crazed now, possessive, signaling that he’s starting to feel as fucked out as you are.
“Ah, ‘toru, please— I need you so much,” you babble, thighs quivering as your boyfriend begins to pound into you mercilessly. “You’re the only one that can make me feel this good.”
“Good girl,” he pants, cerulean orbs rolling back into his skull has he feels balls tighten. “Now you’re going to take everything I give you, ‘kay pretty girl?”
All you can do is nod.
A thought crosses his mind. Has he spoiled you too much?
When he sees you, so pliant and needy and behaved for him, he thinks that it’s a foolish question.
There’s no such thing as too much.
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he’s so hot he’s so sexy i want him
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megu-meow · 11 months
Text
romeo - Gojo Satoru
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gojo x fem. reader
Summary: you're upset and Satoru has to find a way to cheer you up.
Warning: suggestive at the end.
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Everyone has bad days, even the Strongest. Satoru knows not everything can be as perfect as he is, but he tries to brighten the lives of the people around him. He's the type of person to mask his own feelings with his silly and playful personality, but not everyone operates like him. So he notices straight away that something is wrong with you. You're not laughing at his lame jokes like you usually do, there's a dullness to your eyes that he identifies as a product of your sadness and he notices your lack of enthusiasm as well. At first, he's mad. Not at you, he could never, but at the source of your bad mood. Who or what dared to hurt his little mochi, the lover of the Strongest?
During one of his classes, he just tells the kids to practice some sparring so that he could come up with an elaborate plan to brighten your mood and get you out of your slump. Firstly, he has to identify the source of the problem. His first thought is that he did something to upset you, but he brushes that idea away instantly. He would never do anything to make you sad, he takes pride in how amazing of a boyfriend he is. Moreover, whenever you're mad at him, you give him the silent treatment, but you were acting normally that morning - trying to hide your bad mood from him, you gave him a kiss and told him you loved him before leaving the house, so that cannot be it.
"Gojo-sensei!" he hears his name being called by Megumi. He looks in his direction, the raven-haired boy is standing by his side, staring at him with confusion written all over his face. "What is up with you today? You're unusually silent."
"There's nothing wrong with me, Megumi." he answers curtly and the kid is not convinced that he's telling the truth at all. Suddenly, Satoru remembers something and puts his bulky arm around the Fushiguro kid's shoulder, despite his efforts to dodge the side hug. "You were out on a mission with y/n yesterday, right? Did something happen that made my little mochi upset?"
Megumi cringes at the nickname and rolls his eyes, but he tries to remember everything that you said or did during the mission. You were awfully quiet, but he just thought you were simply tired. He didn't think it was a big deal, but maybe Gojo was onto something. The mission was a huge success, but you were unfazed by the great outcome, which should have alerted the raven-haired sorcerer.
"Yeah, now that you're asking, something seemed to be wrong, she was very quiet and didn't even want to celebrate our victory with us."
"Hmmm, that's not good." Satoru says, his right hand scraping his chin like he's deep in thought. "So by the time you went on your mission with her, she was already upset. Do you know what she was doing before?"
"No, she didn't mention anything about her day. Although, when we met up with her she was with Nanami-san, maybe he knows something."
"Thank you, Megumi!" he says in a chipper tone "Class is dismissed!" he shouts and he leaves the kids flabbergasted, as he teleports to the blonde sorcerer with a new found purpose.
"NANAMIN!" he exclaims, not caring that the said man is currently in the middle of a meeting with the principal.
"Gojo, this behavior of yours is unacceptable, we're in the middle of something here!" says Yaga.
"Oh, so it's the perfect time to take a break!" he says nonchalantly, and both Kento and the principal start rubbing their forehead annoyedly.
"What do you need, Gojo-san?" asks Nanami, giving into his shenanigans.
"Did you do something that could've hurt y/n yesterday?"
"ARE YOU SERIOUS GOJO SATORU?! THAT'S YOUR REASON TO INTERRUPT OUR MEETING?!" Yaga exclaims and the white-haired sorcerer mumbles the words 'ew, scary' under his breath, annoying the principal even more.
"No, Gojo-san, I just walked five minutes with her from the main building to the gate, where Megumi and Ijichi were waiting for her so that they could leave on their mission. We engaged in some small talk, but nothing out of the ordinary." said the blonde.
"Okay, that's boring. Did she tell you what she was doing before that?"
"Yes, she was out for coffee with Ieiri-san."
"Thank you, Nanamin!" Gojo said, teleporting away instantly, leaving the two infuriated sorcerers to finish their meeting.
"Shoko!" he arrives in the healer's office with a huff, the woman not even batting an eye at his sudden arrival.
"What do you need, Gojo?" she asks, without looking up from the document she was reading.
"Why is y/n upset?" upon hearing his words, Shoko slams the file in front of her shut, glaring at the desperate male standing in her office.
"She's really upset?! I told her it wasn't a big deal..."
"Shoko, tell me what happened, NOW!"
"Ok, Romeo, be patient. I need a smoke, let's go outside." she says nonchalantly as she fetches her cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of her coat, walking out slowly, without any care in the world. Trailing close behind her, like a lost puppy is Satoru, trying to get her to finally talk, but the woman enjoys keeping him on the edge, so she doesn't say a word before lighting her cigarette and taking a puff out of it.
"The barista at the cafe told her she was annoying and she took it to heart." she finally explains and Gojo is in shock. Why would anyone call you annoying? You're the nicest person he's ever met, there's not a bad bone in your body.
"Is that all?" Gojo asks, because normally this isn't something you would be this upset about.
"The guy might have told her, that no one would ever tolerate her attitude in a relationship." she adds and puts out her cigarette with an exaggerated huff of air. Gojo finally understands and thanks Shoko while he leaves in a hurry, taking long strides.
Throughout the following days, Satoru does everything he can to make you feel better. First, he gets home to you, scooping you up from the couch into his warm embrace, showering your face with kisses, claiming how much he missed you, despite seeing you just that morning. He trails behind you as you shuffle into the kitchen to make some tea, keeping his hands around your waist, softly stroking your side under your shirt. He cuddles up to you, his grip possessive and strong around you and he reminds you of how much he loves you, before falling asleep.
He prepares some tasty sandwiches for your lunch and you're surprised to find a colored drawing of the two of you holding hands with a ton of red hearts in the air around the two poorly drawn stick figures. It makes you smile for the first time since the incident and you stuff the piece of paper into your clear phone case for everyone to see. It warms your heart every time you put your phone down and you remember to kiss your boyfriend lovingly on the lips when you run into him on the training field. He can already see that you're in a better mood, but he doesn't stop there.
He speedruns all his missions of the day, getting home early so that he could prepare a scrumptious meal for the two of you to share for dinner. You're surprised to find him in the kitchen, a huge bouquet of peonies sitting on the counter, and the dinner table decorated with candles and rose petals.
"What's the occasion?" you ask curiously, your smile reaching your ears as you take in the sight in front of you. Satoru is out of his uniform jacket, the white button-up shirt from underneath covering his torso. The sleeves are rolled up, highlighting his muscled arm and a few buttons are loose on the top, showing off his prominent collar bones. His blindfold is also missing, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you in awe.
"There's no occasion, little one. I just thought I would surprise you with something nice. There's no need for special events to show my girlfriend how much I love her." he slowly walks up to you, bringing you closer as he gives you the bouquet, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.
"Thank you, 'toru! I love you!"
"Don't thank me, silly! It's what men do when they're in love." he explains like he would to a child, and his high and mighty attitude makes you giggle, a sound he was dying to hear in the last couple of days. During dinner, you laugh at his silly jokes, which he considers as the ultimate win. You are finally back to normal, there is no sign of you being upset in the first place and he pats his own shoulder as he follows you into your shared bedroom. "I'm gonna draw a nice bath for the two of us to enjoy, alright baby?" he asks and he has a mischievous smile on his face.
"That would be nice, 'toru!" you smile and he disappears into the bathroom and he gives you clear instructions to stay out until he tells you otherwise. You wait patiently for him to finish and he sprints out of there on his sock-clad feet, picking you up easily from your comfy bed and he runs back into the luxurious bathroom that is connected to the bedroom. The lights are dim, the whole space is decorated with candles and petals just like the dining table, the bath is full of hot water and bubbles, the scent of vanilla lingering around. You're left speechless, but Satoru knows how to take advantage of that: he kisses you passionately, savoring the sweet taste of your chapstick. He pulls away slowly, looking into your eyes with adoration.
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, baby. Please, don't let others make you believe otherwise. You are smart, kind, polite, and funny, no matter what anyone says. You also are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, my six eyes can be the proof of that. I will love you forever, even if you get old and wrinkly."
Your eyes swell with tears of joy, as you cup his face, bringing him closer so that you could invite him into a loving and passionate kiss, expressing how much his words and little deeds mean to you.
"Thank you, Satoru! I love you, more than anything!" you respond, leaving a small kiss on his chest, above his heart that's thumping rhythmically.
"Good. Now, can I see your titties?"
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midnight-pluto · 4 months
Text
SPOILED!MEGUMI — headcanons
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megumi was raised by gojo, he’s bound to be spoiled one way or another
CHAR: megumi fushiguro, satoru gojo
PAIRING(S): megumi fushiguro x gn!reader (can be read as platonic)
A/N: this is a topic that isn’t discussed enough, so I’m writing it and potentially going to elaborate on some more later
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i would like to start off by saying i do not intend to paint megumi in a negative light by saying he’s spoiled — but i do intend on putting him in a goofy one
to be honest, megumi isn't that self-aware as he seems
y'all seen that one episode that inspired this post where yuji and nobara freak out over the price of gojo's shirt and question whether it's with tax or not and megumi deadass asks if tax matters? yea interpret that as you will
there is a decent chance that he doesn’t necessarily understand the value of money very well, which probably has something to do with the Gojo effect™️
ngl he probably said ‘print more money’ once and got attacked for it so he never said it again
but he's also so lowkey about it too like you would have never guessed that this boy would be as materialistic as gojo is
like he wears the same shit gojo does that's really expensive quality but doesn't have the brand name plastered onto it since he finds it tacky so you'll just never know unless he exclusively tells you
he also does have a talent of knowing what is good quality and what isn't; he would do great for those cheap vs. expensive videos
can also spot knock-offs from a mile away but never says anything about it since he doesn't have enough in him to care about that kind of stuff
so the first time both of you — including yuji and nobara — hangout at the mall and when you ask what he plans on getting and he just replies with something along the lines of new shoes so just imagine the collective shock between you all when he makes a beeline towards prada
"My boots got ruined last mission so I plan on getting a new pair."
"Okay, what store are you gonna be in so we can find you later?"
"Prada."
"Bitch what the fuck did you just say."
you didn't know what hurt more, megumi not telling any of you about the fact that he was loaded or his absolute nonchalance about the situation
and due to the amount of shock all of you were in, you all followed megumi like little ducklings bcuz his casual nonchalance about it was concerning
he was slightly embarrassed but found it easier to just pretend the rest of you weren't there during his hunt for new boots
it was also quite nerve wracking for you all since yuji only buys things from walmart and though nobara has expensive taste, she knows how to budget while you stay away from all things worth more than rent out of fear of damaging anything and having to pay for it
so it was safe to assume that it looked liked a bunch of kindergarteners in a line following their chaperone during a school field trip — just a lot more quieter and careful which cannot be said for every outing much to megumi’s dismay
megumi didn't take that long before picking out a pair that he liked and began to pay for under three pairs of wide eyes due to the sole fact that he pulled out a black card in order to pay for it
"Don't worry, it's Gojo's."
that statement did not help the situation at all
it also caused the three of you to demand why he isn't spending that money on you all to which his reply is just a deadpan: 'you never asked.'
i feel like this also extends to his taste in food as well
like when you suggest to head to the food court in the mall since yuji was getting hungry; this man has the audacity to disaprove since he doesn't like the taste
now that reasoning isn't the problem, the problem is that he suggests to eat at some expensive ass place an hour away because he was craving it and it was one of the only places gojo introduced to him as a kid which he actually liked
though he was forced to toss the idea aside due to the fact that there was no way you all could split the bill that way and you all weren’t that patient enough to walk an hour all the way to a restaurant you couldn’t even afford
it’s not that megumi didn’t offer to pay, he did, nobara just didn’t like the feeling of having to owe someone
that is until Gojo stumbles across his students and decides to get them food at the same exact place megumi suggested
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A/N: writing this made me hungry
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dellalyra · 1 year
Note
i NEED another part of Family Formation where megumi tells the reader that he has a crush on itadori but he’s scared to tell satoru because he don’t want him to make fun of it 😭 PLEASE
A/N: OMG A REQUEST I’M SO HAPPY THANK YOU NONNIE 🤍 I hope this is okay I kinda got carried away and added some more stuff if it’s not pls tell me and I’ll write MORE
Summary: Megumi comes home for the weekend, and he needs some Mom advice.
CW: Feelings, sweetness, the jjk elders 😡, mentions of being insecure about stuff and sexuality, teasing, a loving family, Satoru and Y/N’s baby is in the human world, swearing it’s me it’s gonna be there.
Recommended Listening:
Shrike - Hozier (the first half)
Angel - Finneas (the second half)
Tear in My Heart - Twenty One Pilots (playing at the start)
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Family Formation Drabble
You lifted your son out of his playpen as you heard the doorbell ring, and holding him on your hip you almost run to the front of the house.
Opening the door, your eldest son stands with a sheepish smile on his face.
“Hi Mom, hey buddy,” Megumi says, laying his backpack on the tiled floor of the hallway of your and Satoru’s cottage.
“Here Akio, say hi to your brother.” Megumi lifts the 14-month-old from your arms and pats his snowy white head.
“Hi sweetheart, where’s that husband of mine?” You ask, now having to stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek to kiss him.
“He’s going to the grocery store and said he’d be home in about 40 minutes. Something about meringue, I wasn’t listening.”
“Understandable. Yuuji and Nobara staying at school?” You lead your boys back into the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee.
“Uh, yeah, they wanted to explore Tokyo for the weekend. Some festival or something.” He plops his brother back in the playpen and comes to sit at the kitchen island with you.
“And you didn’t want to go? I know you’re not a fan of crowds but you guys usually are joined at the hip. You didn’t have to come home for the weekend, sweetie.” Pouring his black coffee into his favourite mug (black, with an M on one side and a fluffy dog on the other).
“Uh no, I kinda needed a breather from Yuu- everyone.” He had flushed red at the name, and your instincts spiked, you’d had an inkling of what might have caused your emotionally constipated son to need a breather but you’d let him tell you if you wanted.
You had seen the shy looks through his eyelashes, the bright red tips of his ears from just a high five. The fact he gravitates toward him during missions. The spike in anger at seeing him hurt. The avoided hearing any form of praise from his pink-haired friend. You knew your son had grown a crush on Yuuji Itadori. To you, it was obvious. Well, to you and Satoru - but you had warned him to not bring it up, or make a deal of it, or try any elaborate schemes. Luckily, the matter of love was something Satoru knew not to meddle in. You both needed to come together naturally, and you wanted the same for your kids.
“I get that, I used to need breaks from your dad’s energy sometimes too. For people like us, sometimes the energy gets overwhelming, same with all the feelings. Maybe you’re spending too much time around me!” You giggle, nudging him in the side.
You hear mumbling (babbling, really) from the other side of the room and then a “Momma, up! Up!” So you pick up Akio on your hip and come back to sit with Megumi. He was staring into his coffee as if he was waiting for it to grow into a corporeal being.
“Mom, can I - can I, um, ask you about something?” He doesn’t look up when he asks.
“Always, sweetheart.”
“I think, I think I - I dunno. Maybe it’s dumb. It’s - I needed to get away this weekend to think for a while. To think about - about Itadori.” He swirls the spoon in his coffee. You know how much effort it’s taking your shy boy to talk about this so you don’t push, gently letting him continue.
“I think I… might like him. Like, as more than a friend.” The sound of his voice is so quiet you are glad the house is quiet.
“That’s great sweetheart, I’m happy to hear that. Have you talked to him about it?” You pet the raven and lock his head in a soothing gesture, keeping your voice steady and even as if coaxing a wolf into playtime.
He shakes his head.
“I’ve not told anyone, only you, and Akio I guess.” He smirks, and the baby on your thigh perks up hearing his name.
“Gumi!” The baby waves to his big brother, showing off his new skill of waving.
“Well, you know whatever you say can stay between us.”
“I don’t know what to do mom, I haven’t done this whole ‘like someone’ thing, and I- Yuuji, he’s a boy and my friend and I don’t want to be fucked with for it.”
“Sweet boy, who do you think wouldn’t be okay with that? I’m bi, your dad’s bi, Nobara well - that girl is completely in love with Maki. Inumaki wouldn’t care, Yuuta would be so happy to see you happy, Principal Yaga has had me, Shoko, Satoru, you kids - and your Uncle Suguru to deal with. You liking a boy is of no consequence to any of us, as long as the boy is good to you and you’re happy.”
“The elders? They’re not exactly accepting. I know you and Dad and all my friends won't care, I just don't want them to punish Yuuji any more.”
“Ha! Honey, have they met our family?! I and your dad have date nights of shouting at the elders. You're our son, Yuuji may as well be too. You guys are under our protection. Plus, if things get really bad - we can pull out the trump card. We can send Uncle Kento in to roll his eyes and call them shits and judge them in the silent scary way you've learned.”
He smirks at this, recalling stories of your temper scaring the senile men, and how Nanami and you team up often to call out bullshit.
“Did I tell you about when your dad and I began dating? The elders blew a fuse. Your dad being who he is, the ‘pinnacle of Sorcery society’ dating me? A girl whose family has been a matriarch fighting the male elders for 350 years? It was a bloodbath, and we were summoned to a meeting and let’s say by the end of it, nobody questioned our relationship again. They even sent us a wedding gift.” You say, pointing at the teapot on the counter.
“We love you, whether you’re straight, gay, sideways, bi - hell honey you could say you want to marry a tree I’d say great when’s the wedding? Him being a boy, is of no matter - what matters is whether or not he makes you happy. Now, have you confessed?” You peck his forehead.
“No. I don’t know how. Plus, I don’t even know if he’s into guys, let alone me.”
“First of all, he is. He told me a while back he had a crush on Timothee Chalamet - so I’d also argue you’re probably his type. Next point - what do you mean ‘let alone me!’, you, kid, are a devilishly handsome guy. You’ve got the whole, tall dark and handsome thing going on! Strong, kind, loyal, sensible - okay I’ll shut up.”
You giggled, knowing your cue to stop was him banging his head on the island, groaning ‘Mom please stop.’
“Yes please shut up now.”
“Megs, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s crazy about you too, I’d bet my technique on it.”
He hums a nonsensical sound, but you can see a small smile on his face.
“Gumi!” Tiny grabby hands pull Megumi’s attention as he picks him up and he summons his divine dog for your son to pet.
“Can you not tell Dad? He’ll just tease me.”
“Hate to break it to you kid but your dad already knew. He’s around you kids 24/7.”
“But he never said anything? Surely if he knew he’d be insufferable.”
“Satoru is kinda good with matters of the heart, believe it or not. He knows this is something you need to do yourself, we both do. He managed to land me didn’t he?” You wink at him, and he smirks.
A voice sounds from the doorway,
“Who managed to land you? Do I have competition for your heart, princess?” Satoru asks, whisking you into his arms and kissing your forehead.
“Oh yes, a beautiful young man which dashing white hair and sparking blue eyes has not let go of me for 10 months.” You gesture to Akio, who is on Megumi’s lap.
“How dare he, I’ll just have to swallow him whole!” Satoru lifts your son into his arms and Megumi rolls his eyes and blows raspberries into his chubby baby belly, much to the infant's delight.
“Gumi, Got you chicken nanban, breast meat don’t worry!” He passes the box to the eldest boy, then turns to you. You smile at how thoughtful your beautiful husband can be.
“Donburi, for you, love of my life, princess, my queen.” He passes you another box.
“And for us, Akio, the ones with gourmet taste, mochi!” He takes a pink container out and all you can do is roll your eyes, thankful you had already given the baby his ACTUAL dinner.
“I’m just gonna go shower, I’ll be back in a few.” He pecks you and Akio on the head and tries to kiss Megumi too only to be swatted away.
As Satoru leaves, you turn to Megumi.
“We both know, and we love you. If you want to talk to me about it, I love hearing it from you, I’ve also been told I’m pretty great at advice - and I swept your dad off his feet. Got the strongest at my feet. It’s okay to take your time, but if you’re worried, I can’t tell you for sure he likes you too, like, a lot, Megumi. I promise.” You wink at him, knowing some humour would make this less uncomfortable for him.
You wouldn’t tell him so you weren’t interfering in something you knew would happen naturally, but you knew for sure because Yuuji had asked you what Megumi’s favourite restaurant was so he could ask him on a date on his birthday in two weeks. But that was a secret you keep to yourself, well, and Satoru and Akio. Megumi may be smarter than Yuuji, but Yuuji was far more aware of feelings. He had been worried he’d be turned down, but you assured the pink-headed boy he wouldn’t be - to which he thanked you, Satoru and Akio for his very informative babbles and bounced out of the room to get help planning from Nobara.
“Thanks, Mom.” Megumi gives you a small smile, sheepish as ever.
“No need, it’s my pleasure, darling boy.” You kissed his forehead (smiling at not being swatted away).
“Ahhh baba! Puppy gumi! Jababuoa.” Akio says from his high chair.
“Very true Akio, you’re not wrong. Megumi, opinion?”
“No, he’s definitely onto something, good job buddy.”
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mamani-bento · 6 months
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weight (satoru gojo)
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gojo x reader, 1.4k, gender not mentioned
established relationship, fluff + comfort
the poorest little meow meow
mamani-bento's masterlist!
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there’s something about tiredness in gojo’s life. something about how the exhaustion of carrying a weight and a future, neither just his own, has followed him around for years, like a dutifully grotesque pet dog.
he uncomplainingly lets it pad at his heels for the longest time, twisting his sense of self-preservation into a similarly dark thing. he masks his loneliness with a wide grin and his weariness with a silly joke, but every day, his back breaks from carrying his heavy heart. gojo has always been a powerful man, but to bear this weight alone has left his emotional spine feeling perpetually hunched.
it fluctuates in effort and attention demanded from him. lighter in the early mornings, as he wakes up in your arms, blinking blearily at your sleepy but fond grin at his uncharacteristic sluggishness. lighter too on the weekends he gets off - slow sunday mornings that he spends putting together elaborate brunches that you pretend to help with (you chop a tomato and decide to shift to moral support after that); or the saturday nights outside with friends, your heated gaze catching his from across the bar, the promise of your body flush against his once you reach home curling low in his belly.
sometimes, he experiences flashes of time when he doesn't register the weight at all, leaving him reeling. brushing his teeth with you, reflections side-by-side as you pull funny faces at each other in the mirror. the fiery glow of the setting sun catching your smiling, upturned face at the beach, like calling to like. waking up to you, always waking up to you. these moments when his breath catches in his throat like a lump of something too-sweet that he's trying too hard to not choke on to register the ephemerally absent burden.
but there are other times - dark, terrible times - that the heaviness threatens to swallow him whole.
the last few hours have been a blur of activity. lingering adrenaline from the heady mission leaves gojo's body in a constantly draining, ugly streak, his energy dipping lower with every step he takes. he had waved away nanami's offer to drop him home, tired of being so on and looking forward to the quiet and solitary walk. now, as his legs trudge along on muscle memory alone and the strain in his eyes starts to feel like too much, he's wondering if he should have just accepted.
he finally reaches the front door, wondering if you're back home from work, every part of his being praying that you're on the other side of the wood. his keys click in the lock and he steps into the one place he can lay down the baggage.
he registers the sound of the television at the same time as you call out, "gojo? is that you?"
he doesn't bother with a verbal response, unceremoniously kicking his shoes off and entering the living room. he rounds the corner of the foyer and pauses, heart briefly unclenching in one of those stark instants.
your hair is a mess, half-dry from a shower and curling near the tops of your ears. you've been complaining that it's getting too long these days, difficult to manage. you're dressed for bed, soft and fraying cotton t-shirt and shorts with strawberries printed on them. the realisation that you had waited up for him has his insides feeling raw, all scraped and tender with your love.
at his entrance, your expression changes from curiosity to one of sympathetic understanding. he's never been able to hide his exhaustion around you. he's given up trying to long ago. you peel away the layers with the slightest glance and he's fully exposed before he ever realises what's happening.
without another word, he lets his bag slip off his shoulders and drop to the floor, and takes one, two, three steps to the couch where you're sat. it's a bit of a squeeze, and he has to keep his knees bent, but with some shifting on both of your parts and your amused huff, gojo manages to lie down on the three-seater with his head on your lap.
he burrows his face in the fabric of your t-shirt as a hand comes up to soothingly card through his hair. humming as your nails lightly scratch his scalp, he lets out a deep sigh, weight dropping with the smell of your shampoo, the comfort of your presence. neither of you say anything as he takes his time to come up for air, once he's fitted out with enough ammunition to face the outside again. the television maffles in the background.
when he turns back to face the ceiling, head securely cushioned by your thigh, you're looking down at him with a practiced discernment that leaves him feeling naked to himself. another slight puff of air leaves his lips as he lets his eyelids flutter closed.
"do you want to talk about it?" you softly ask, your soothing ministrations on his hair not slowing down.
gojo cracks a single eye open. thinks about it. decides that it's too much and gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head. imperceptible to anybody but you, that is. "tired," he mumbles before resting his eyes again.
one of your palms comes to cup the back of his head, gently lifting as the other hand deftly undoes the knot on the blindfold. another weight that you effortlessly dismantle. the strip of cloth is placed on the arm of the couch next to you.
once his head is comfortable on your lap again, you easily slip your hand into his, resting interlocked fingers on his stomach. "have you eaten?" you ask next, thumb rubbing slowly across his skin, tracing love that simultaneously keeps him in one piece and shatters him into a thousand.
he nods. they had gotten sandwiches a few hours ago at a gas station on the way back.
"have you eaten enough?" you pointedly ask, as if reading his mind. you might as well be.
gojo remains silent. gives a small shake of his head.
thankfully, you don't go to remove him from his cozy position. he's quite content where he is now, cocooned in this bubble of affection you've created. instead, you lift his hand that's ensconced in your smaller one, his long fingers curling in your grip as you brush your lips across his knuckles.
the tenderness in your touch leaves him breathless, and he marvels, not for the first time, how he had survived for so many years without this. he's never known this sort of peace before - somebody to come home to, their lap to lay his head on, room in their heart for him to set up messy shop.
sometimes, he doesn't know what to do with it, honestly. can't quite figure out where to put his hands when you show such kindness, like he's somehow worthy of your love. he had a hard time letting you beat at the fog that he's lived with forever, but patiently, you kept bringing bigger sticks, just by being around him. he's better at it now. better at convincing himself in moments like these that this peace isn't a borrowed thing that'll disappear in the morning.
"is there any dinner left?" he asks softly. he'll let you take care of him. he deserves it. you think he deserves it, and he'll trust your judgment.
"mm-hmm. i'll heat it up when you're ready to eat."
he feels the drain of energy, yes, but also a load slowly getting lighter somewhere inside him. the dim yellow lighting of the room, the cushioned couch under his limp body, the sounds of the television regaled to the background, and you.
always, you.
he has a laundry list of things to do tomorrow - classes, mission report, demonstrations, debriefing, all the people he has to be loud for - but, he'll wake up in your arms. and you will give him that look as the sun streams into the quiet room, that fond grin as he works to get his brain up and running. and he will feel the weight similarly start to ease away, like a pavlovian condition he doesn't want to fight.
the thought is enough to give him the strength to lift his head from your lap. you cup his cheek with your free palm, looking at him like he isn't the strongest sorcerer, like he isn't contact person number one for the jujutsu world, like he's just a man who's tired, and it feels like stepping into a beam of sunlight that warms his frigid skin. not letting go of his hand, you rise, and he follows. for now, to the kitchen so he can get some food. but really, he'll always follow to the next morning, and the next and the next, where he gets to wake up to you.
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angel-kyo · 6 months
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Okay, so it's probably just too late to get it out of my head now. I think I am obsessed with writing him obliviously obsessed.
Warnings: Mentions of obsessive/stalkerish behavior and invasion of privacy.
I guess this is a second part to this: Part I
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ObsessedSatoru who randomly passes by your house on the days and the hours he knows you should be there. He tells himself he just cares about you and wants to make sure you made it home and the lights are on.
ObsessedSatoru who wonders if you are okay when you fail to attend the bakery one Friday. "I just wanted something sweet before starting the weekend", you had told him once, and he couldn't agree more. Seeing you was sweet for him too. Since that day, it had become some sort of tradition meeting you there on Fridays. Why would you not show up? This changes the script a bit, he thought.
ObsessedSatoru whose first thought is that you may be still at work but changes his mind after making a quick call to your workplace and having no one pick up. So they are closed already? Any other day he had wanted to check, he had called and spoken a few words to the receptionist. 'A nice woman', you had told him once, 'she won't leave until all of us have left the office.'
ObsessedSatoru who decides to check your home in case you had headed there earlier. Confusion, disappointment and worry, exactly in that order, bloomed in his head when he saw the lights off. A quick inspection inside confirmed you were indeed not there.
ObsessedSatoru who has memorized your weekly schedule as well as his own. He knew you were free that night and had planned for the two of you to not so casually meet after work. He would then have persuaded you into grabbing dinner with him and asked you to go out the following day on a 'friendly date' to try a new coffee shop, nothing out of the ordinary, although he was actually planning for something a bit more elaborate than just coffee this time.
ObsessedSatoru who calls you to ask if you are free for dinner right now. A direct call had not been part of his plan. He knew you were most likely to agree if spoken with in person, but he figured it was the fastest way to reach you.
ObsessedSatoru who frowns lightly at you not picking up. Were you busy? With what? Not at work, not at home and he was sure you had no plans for tonight. You had his number and would usually pick up quick enough. Had you ignored him? No, he didn't want to think like that. Maybe lost your phone? He wanted to call again, but wouldn't that be too pushy? No, he was your friend, so it should be okay, right?
ObsessedSatoru whose mood lightened when you call him instead. "Satoru? Sorry, for not picking up before." He could almost hear your apologetic smile. "Is everything okay?"
"Are you home yet?" Maybe he was being too forward, but wasn't he always? And his tone was as friendly as it had always been with you. Still, he felt funny asking such a question in the middle of your living room. He knew you were not home. "If you're free, do you want to grab dinner?"
You went silent for a bit, and he heard some voices in the background. Maybe you were busy after all.
He was going to ask you where you were, but you spoke sooner. "Sorry, we went out for dinner with some colleagues. Maybe..."
"What about tomorrow?", he interrupted. He could still save his plan.
You were hesitating. This is what he feared. "Sure, we can do something tomorrow."
Score. If you could only see the smile you put on his face.
ObsessedSatoru who ponders whether or not he should come back to your house later while eating his dinner alone. 'We went out for dinner with some colleagues.' He didn't know much about the people you worked with. Maybe he should fix that. Just for safety. You can never know these days, right?
ObsessedSatoru who decided to check on you and smiles when he sees you entering your home from afar. You are okay, so he can go to sleep soundly now.
ObsessedSatoru who plans one of the most exhausting 'dates' you have ever been on. 'What should we do next?', he kept saying, coming up with more things to do every hour just because he did not want your time together to end. Not that he would admit that though.
ObsessedSatoru who invites you to his place after the rain caught you at the festival where he had taken you. Contrary to what you may have thought, he keeps a neat apartment. "So neat that it is almost as if you didn't live here", you had said with a smile. He took it as a compliment.
ObsessedSatoru who laughs it off when you mention you buy the same shower gel as him after using his bathroom. What a coincidence that he also seems to like the same brand of coffee as you, no? "Great minds think alike", he grins as he pours your cup. If you looked through in his fridge and cabinets, you would probably find more 'coincidences'. Right, maybe his most recent grocery lists had been slightly inspired by his findings in your home. But he liked you, in the friendliest of ways, of course. What could be wrong with wanting to try the same things you seemed to like?
ObsessedSatoru who thinks there is only one thing in the whole apartment he doesn't want you to see: the bottle of perfume in the drawer of his nightstand. It was the same you wore almost every day. The same you were wearing when he met you and the same you had worn today. He had bought it on a whim a few weeks ago, when he passed by a store and suddenly thought he had smelled you. A silly buy, nothing more, but he knew that could make you raise an eyebrow.
ObsessedSatoru who keeps his eyes on you without realizing he is staring and blushes lightly when you put your cup of coffee down and speak in the most serious tone "You have been staring. Are you obsessed with me or something?" Your expression immediately changes when his eyes widen. You laugh at his reaction.
ObsessedSatoru who laughs too, but maybe he is being completely sincere when he replies "How could I not be?"
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wishmemel · 1 year
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jjk men tropes
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Businessman! Gojo Satoru who’s forced into a contract marriage with you through no will of his own. you’ve watched him from afar for years (you could even go as far as to call yourself one of his admirers) but he’s never paid a glance in your direction. that all changes when fate throws a wrench in both your lives and has you preparing for a wedding that you neither want nor need. Gojo Satoru is incredibly good-looking, to his credit, but coming into contact with his arrogant attitude always leaves a sour note in your mouth. he’s nothing like you dreamt he would be in your head: charming, clever, and playful. where had you gone wrong in analyzing his personality? it was those deceptive blue eyes, wasn’t it? they had reeled you in and left you paralyzed, unable to pull away. so you’d made up a fictional world in your head with him as the star, and now that he hasn't lived up to your expectations, you’re finding yourself sorely disappointed. the only thing that can come out of this is Satoru's stubbornness when it comes to suddenly changing your mind, despite his previous nonchalance. maybe it's because he finds that it's not so bad having someone to come home to and eat dinner with and open the wine bottle for and kiss awkward goodbyes to. and maybe the two of you could do this for a little longer than what the contract had stated and maybe he'll give you a kid just so that he can have some memory of you when you leave and maybe he'll be able to convince you that he's not all that bad. (maybe he'll be able to convince you to stay.)
Tattoo Artist! Geto Suguru who has been your best friend since preschool. he’s reserved and shy, different from your usual types, and he spends most of his nights in, drawing elaborate sketches in his notebooks or enjoying movie nights with you. on days where you can convince him to come out with you, the two of you end up drunk at karaoke bars, singing your hearts out. it’s the first time you’ve noticed just how beautiful Suguru can be, especially the way he doubles over laughing after hearing your singing, and the way he outdoes you in every song with a voice that could drive women to their knees. he's not the type to say his thoughts aloud or even the kind to admit his own feelings to himself. if Suguru is good at one thing, it's running. but he hasn't run from you yet. he tells himself that he's just waiting for the right opportunity to let you down and leave, and he tells himself that it's not because his heart clenches at the thought of your eyes filled with tears, hands tugging at his shirt, begging him to stay. Suguru has been here long enough to know that everyone that you needed left the same way: by walking straight out the door without a second thought. so since you were kids, Suguru, only two years older than you, would look out for you like an older brother might, squaring up to the bullies on the playground in elementary and knocking out your persistent ex-boyfriends when you two were a little bit older. he wishes you would read his mind and make the decision for him. everything would be a little simpler if you knew what he was thinking and made him promise to stay before he could even take the first step to leave. (the same way a younger version of you had made him pinky promise on the playground to never leave.)
Boxer! Fushigoru Toji with bruised knuckles, various scars, and a set of washboard abs that you frequently dream of doing your laundry on. he dedicates his fights to you and promises to win in your name, regardless of those around you who call him a foolish romantic. his lopsided smirk, cruel and dangerous, is enough to shut their mouths as soon as they meet his dark eyes. knowing that boxing isn’t really your style, the two of you met at a bar where Toji worked part-time as a bartender and full-time as an arrogant flirt. it had been that troublesome smile that drew you in. danger was never something you balked from. rather, the opposite; it had butterflies swarming your stomach, unable to tell if they were from fear or excitement. it had you swaying on your feet from lightheadedness, caught between good for your heart and bad for your health. but when he takes you on his motorcycle, that seals the deal. it doesn’t matter that he refuses to put a label on your relationship. and it doesn’t matter that he refuses to make you two exclusive. what matters is that you wake up in his bed on sunday mornings and have breakfast with him until he has to leave for “business.” what matters is that you’re the only woman on his phone because Toji’s reluctantly told you that he’s an orphan. what matters is that someday he’ll call you his and that day will come soon. you know it will. you just have to be patient. (someday he'll say he loves you back.)
Ex-Lover! Ryoumen Sukuna who just can’t seem to let you slip from his fingers. he’s possessive and he’s obsessive, but he can’t let you go, and he doesn’t care what anyone else says but you’re his and god forbid you see anyone other than him. if you’re on dates with other guys, Sukuna will have them running for the hills with a mere glance in their direction, and if you’re a little frustrated by that, then it’s no worries. he’s here to cool your anger. he’s here, so you can vent your frustrations and tell him you hate him and call him all those names. he loves when you lie to him. he wishes he could hear it all the time. he thinks you’re so cute when you’re pretending to be mad at him and acting up for attention. oh, you’ll get that attention, all right. Sukuna won’t let you get away without it. then you’ll be on you’re knees, begging and pleading for a second chance, just like his pretty porcelain doll should be doing. he’ll hold you tight and whisper fervent promises of how he’ll never let you go ever again. and it's so romantic in his head; picturing the fear that'll widen those doe eyes, the shortness of breath you'll feel when he tells you his plans like a cliche villain, the irregular beats of your heart that he'll relish in hearing. you know he’ll never ever let you escape from his fingertips like that again. and you'd sooner kill yourself than be stuck with Sukuna a second time but he doesn't know that. (if he did, he'd burn the entire world to bring you back.)
Colleague! Nanami Kento who is so uptight that you can’t help teasing him on every off chance that you two find your paths crossing (which happens to be more and more frequently these days, you must admit.) he’s been in love with you since the day you stepped into the office, your sharp look matching the sleek dress pants that you wore that day, but hasn’t yet found a way to express it yet, other than asking if you liked love in your coffee the first day that you’d been assigned a desk beside his. you’d given him a blank stare that he seems to have interpreted as a death glare and he’d profusely mumbled apologies under his breath, vowing never to speak to you or look in your direction again. however, somehow, through some magic, you’d both reached this in-between point of talking where you weren’t quite friends yet, but you were definitely acquaintances. acquaintances and colleagues and why was he so desperate to put a label on his relationship with you? he's always been able to draw the line first and maintain his professionalism, but you're always leaning over to laugh at jokes that your other colleague makes and he thinks it's so distracting the way your eyes light up and crinkle at the corners. and one day Kento finds that he suddenly has a great sense of humour and a penchant for making you laugh the way your other coworker could never. (it's not a competition. but if it was... Kento would win in a heartbeat.)
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pretty-toru · 1 year
Note
Soft headcanons about Gojo and his s/o wedding day!
I adore this ask and writing it has made me fall in love with this beautiful man all over again!! 🤍🤍
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SATORU GOJO :
一 The entire day belongs to you and Satoru, and you wanted the people you love and who loves you both (tolerate is the better word to describe your soon-to-be husband) to have a good time and celebrate the joy of you two getting married. There's a sense of normalcy and touch of controlled chaos throughout the ceremony and reception since almost everybody played a part in ensuring anything that could go wrong doesn't go wrong. A collective gift to the newlyweds to protect the intimacy and heartfelt moments of the wedding.
一 Satoru knows that you both aren't supposed to see each other before the first look, but he couldn't help stealing a few moments alone with you sometime before the ceremony. With him and his little loopholes, he asks Shoko for you to meet him where he'll be waiting behind the screen divider with clammy hands. He doesn't seem like it but he's a nervous wreck and hearing your voice calms him down and he's reminded of his immeasurable love for you that brought him here today.
Of course, it wouldn't be Gojo Satoru if he doesn't ask you if you still like him (jokingly, but also seriously) on your and his wedding day. In your sweet smile and reassurance of "Definitely more than like you" was all he needed to regain his confidence.
一 As Satoru's eagerly yet patiently stands at the altar, he was holding it together pretty well until the elaborate orchestra starts to announce your arrival. There were some whispers among the first and second-year students whether or not their sensei was going to start bawling his eyes, and he absolutely did once you came into his view with his uncovered eyes (overstimulated eyes be damned) 一 all gorgeously gowned up and so stunningly beautiful that his jaw physically hurts from grinning and holding all the happiness on his face.
一 Your smile matches his as you're making your way toward him with your father beside you, everything and everyone else a complete blur except for Satoru. When you finally meet him, you're sweetly helping him wipe away his tears before the officiant starts, "We are gathered here today..." Megumi's divine dogs are the ring bearers and they are entrusted with the wedding bands when it's time for the exchange vows and you both make promises to earnestly love and care for one another.
One of your favorite moments after saying "I do" and sharing a romantic kiss is having flower petals rain down upon you and your husband walking down the aisle, hands linked for a lifetime of togetherness and Satoru excitedly says to you, "We're married!" and he scoops you up in his arms and spins you around with the train of your wedding dress fluttering behind him.
一 The wedding reception was the most fun where guests could help themselves to delicious food, dance the night away to great music, have many cocktails at the open bar, enjoy the photo booth with props and take home the memory. The cake cutting is unsurprisingly what Satoru looks forward to and he giddily dabs the cream on your nose before affectionately feeding you a taste. But sharing the first slow dance with you will always hold a special place in his heart as he's swaying to the soft tunes with you.
Satoru's dark sunglasses are perched on his nose but you can still see the cherished blue beyond his softened visage. He pulls you a little closer to him and whispers, "I just want to remember you一us一in this moment forever. Being loved by you was the best thing to happen to me," because he still hasn't fully grasped that he's now married to the love of his life.
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froggibus · 1 year
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I Got You - Jujutsu Kaisen
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Includes: Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori, Toge Inumaki, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna
Genre: angst? fluff
Summary: a scenario in which your fave boy saves you + the aftermath
CW: VIOLENCE, blood, falling, bullying, harassment, hurt/comfort, more stupid jokes?
i am so down bad for xiao from Genshin rn so if anyone has any good xiao fics pls send them my way! fanart too! anyway this has been in my drafts for a while but just finished it tonight cause why not
also I guarantee no one can guess my favorite JJK character
————
Megumi Fushiguro:
yuji, fushiguro and you were sent to exorcise a grade 1
nobara was sick with the flu but she was supposed to be there too
it was supposed to be an easy fight 
when you got there, it turned out to be a special grade that took hostages 
you focused on trying to get the hostages out while fushiguro and Itadori distracted it
it catches on to the plan and knocks yuji away when he goes to hit it 
then it goes after you
yuji gets up but not in time 
fushiguro tries to divert it with his shikigami but it doesn’t work
it hits you out the window 
you start falling and have no time to brace yourself before hitting the ground 
you’re going to hit the pavement and become a y/n pancake 
fushiguro watches the whole thing in horror
he’s NOT going to lose you like this
he tries to think of what he can do to save you and it hits him like a pile of bricks
a giant bird catches you
it takes you a minute to realize that it’s Nue but when you do, you almost cry from relief 
yuji and fushiguro finished exorcising the curse when you got back 
you literally run to fushiguro and kiss him
he’s surprised but he holds you and makes sure you’re okay 
is SO relieved when you only have a few minor scrapes and bruises and no big injuries
expect him to be GLUED to your side after too
he’s not one for PDA but he’s holding your hand, hand on your waist etc. 
let’s you rest on him during the ride back to jujutsu tech
probably plays with your hair/hands the whole drive too
Satoru Gojo 
saves you on a mission when your Grade 1 turned out to be 2 special grades
as a semi Grade 1 sorcerer you’re used to taking out Grade 1s and even some special grades on your own
so when you got an assignment to take out a Grade 1 you really weren’t worried about it
Gojo was though
he kept saying something feels off and not elaborating 
You shake him off cause let’s be real, it’s Gojo, and you go anyway
of course when you get there and take out the Grade 1 almost instantly just to realize you still feel a strong presence of cursed energy, you realize he was right
queue 2 special grades coming out of nowhere and attacking you
it’s all you can do to defend yourself and try to run away but they’re working together and keep blocking your path 
you’re thoroughly unsurprised when Gojo drops from the fucking sky 
“what do we have here?”
he has his blindfold off and his eyes are glowing 
you laugh somewhat cause you know they are FUCKED 
he takes his time with them too 
when it’s done and over with he’s trying to act all nonchalant and “I told you so” about it but you can tell he was worried 
“see? you should’ve just listened to me”
“really? you’re choosing now to be cocky?”
definitely makes you ‘repay’ him somehow (read: he is just EXTRA clingy and uses it as a reason to kiss you tons)
Yuji Itadori
you’re heading to a cafe one morning to get drinks and snacks for the first years
it’s a nice day so you just end up walking there 
you didn’t think about the fact that regular school was about to start either tho
and as you’re walking to the cafe you see some familiar people up ahead 
people you knew before Jujutsu Tech
you decide to just ignore them cause you don’t think they’ll remember or recognize you after all this time 
unfortunately they do
one of them sticks out their leg to trip you and when you fall they all laugh 
you scramble backwards and try to get up but realize you dropped your wallet 
“w-what do you even want from me”
“c’mon y/n, is that any way to greet an old friend?”
you get a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach 
“it doesn’t really seem like you guys are friends.”
your heart FLUTTERS
yuji is standing behind the group of assholes and he looks ANGRY 
so angry you almost thought it was Sukuna for a second 
“who are you—“
“don’t you know? that’s the tiger of west junior high!!”
the fear on their faces alone is enough to make you feel better 
they literally RUN away
Yuji helps you off of the ground and gathers your stuff 
“y/n are you okay?”
you nod and swallow hard
he checks you head to toe for injuries and when he’s certain you’re fine pulls you in for a big hug
like mans is CRUSHING your ribs 
he’s back to his sunshiney self tho
“thank you for protecting me, yuji.”
he kisses your forehead and he’s BLUSHING like crazy
Toge Inumaki 
there’s a big meeting for sorcerers at the Tokyo school
like pretty much everyone is there 
so class is cancelled for the day
you and the other second years are just sitting on the bleachers making fun of some of the weirder looking sorcerers
you’re sitting with inumaki who chimes in with the occasionally “tuna” or “salmon roe” 
until you hear someone causing a scene over Yuji
yelling about the vessel and a bunch of other weird shit
you’re on your feet in no time ready to go defend the poor first year 
you don’t even think about any danger until you’re getting up in the man’s face and telling him to backup 
the man is getting aggressive though and Yuji starts telling you to back off 
but the man tells Yuji he’s better off dead and you SNAP
you start yelling at him
until he starts to use his cursed technique on you
you realize too late what’s happening and have no time to get out of the way
“don’t move!”
it’s been so long since you’ve heard Inumaki say anything other than fish ball ingredients that you’re stunned 
the man freezes in place, trying to move but to no avail
Inumaki steps in front of you protectively and narrows his eyes at the man who tried to attack you
“leave. don’t come near them again.”
the man obeys (like he had any choice)
Inumaki looks at you seriously and grabs your hands 
“tuna tuna”
“i know i know…i didn’t think I just ran in”
“bonito flakes”
you kiss his nose and thank him for saving you 
Toji Fushiguro
being real he would probably not let ANYONE lay their hands on you 
at least not anyone with ill intentions
but let’s be real toji is possessive as fuck
anyway you’re on a walk one morning when a curse ambushes you
you don’t practice Jujutsu but you have cursed energy and know what they are from Toji
you try to evaluate what’s going on and wonder if you can fight it
but you shake the thought away and settle on running 
which is fine until the curse RIPS the ground from under you and sends you flying 
you land on a wall and decide to just not get up again
you’re ready to accept death when your giant boyfriend is suddenly there 
he has a sword and makes quick work of the curse before coming to your aid 
“fuck doll, it really did a number on you, huh?”
you just nod weakly and let him pick you up 
he carried you home and takes care of your injuries and you can tell by the shaking of his hands that he’s mad
not at you duh
but at the thought that a curse HURT you
that it even THOUGHT it could touch HIS y/n
expect a lot of affection from him 
and probably some rough but sweet ‘you’re mine ill never let anything hurt you’ sex
Ryomen Sukuna
you and Yuji somehow get stuck fighting a special grade alone 
and neither of you are doing so hot
at least Yuji is somewhat OP
you’re just y/n and you’re STRUGGLING
which only gets worse when the special grade pierces straight through your stomach
there’s a hole at least three inches wide
Yuji just watches in horror 
Sukuna doesn’t freeze, though 
he knows humans are fragile and you can’t stand too much blood loss
“enchain”
him and Yuji switch before anyone could process what was going on
instantly vaporizes the special grade and runs to your side
using reversed cursed energy really isn’t that big of a deal to him though 
heals you like it’s nothing 
“you’re fine, brat.”
you pass out 
but when you wake up you’re back in your dorm, Yuji sitting on the end of your bed
no, not Yuji
Sukuna is sitting on the end of your bed, staring straight at you 
“i-i’m alive?”
“yes, and i still haven’t heard a thank you.”
“thank you for saving me.”
acts all humble and nonchalant about it but you notice he’s a little more clingy
and WAY more protective of you 
735 notes · View notes
seoafin · 1 year
Text
dog days are over | chapter three
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru warnings/tags (for this chapter): beginnings of a panic attack, mentions of implied dissociation and depression, slight nsfw word count: ~7.7k
fic masterlist read on ao3
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There’s a wedding.
You know this because Satoru is holding a pristine white invitation with elaborately floral borders and calligraphy so curled it’s difficult for you to read it when for all intents and purposes, you are used to handling and deciphering historical accounts and journals.
That’s not the only thing.
The invitation had been addressed to both Satoru and Suguru.
The two of them are getting invitations sent as one. It means something. It’s an acknowledgement. Unspoken, but palpable. 
Satoru flicked the invitation open, indifferently scanned the contents, and threw it on the nearest surface (the desk in front of him) with a lazy flick of his wrist. In his words: a higher up’s daughter was getting married to some big shot young politician. Their honored presences was humbly requested. They’d be delighted to have the strongest in attendance for the joyous occasion.
You picked up the invitation and scanned the date. Next month, on the sixteenth. A Friday. You have off on that Friday. You know that because there is an exhibit one of your professors is curating at the Tokyo National Museum you had planned on asking Satoru and Suguru to.
Satoru doesn't really respond well to invitations. You could still ask him—
“Friday’s going to be a real pain.” Satoru texts away on his phone. You watch as Suguru replies in real time. You wonder if the two of them have resolved all of their problems if they’re texting normally. 
“Oh,” you say, surprised. “You’re going?”
Satoru’s gaze momentarily flicks up at you, holding your gaze for a few seconds, before returning to the screen. “Might as well.” The words come out begrudgingly. Satoru makes a face at his phone, presumably one of Suguru’s texts, and types out a long response.
You suppose that means that they have plans already. You don’t mind. You had been intending on going alone anyway.
Your own phone vibrates in your pocket. It’s a message from Shoko.
Ieiri Shoko
[4:31] there’s a wedding
[4:32] i have been invited to a wedding
[4:33] Satoru and Suguru too. Satoru said he’s going. Suguru too. Probably.
[4:33] ? Those two? lolololololol 
[4:34] I didn’t think Satoru was going to go. 
[4:36] your guess is as good as mine.
[4:36] how about you come with me? be my plus one
[4:36] say yes
You stare at Shoko’s text. Come…with her? To the wedding? You hadn’t expected to be invited. Either as a person or a plus one. You wouldn’t know anybody. The thought of being surrounded by people somewhere clearly didn’t belong makes you nervous. You won’t be able to rely on Satoru or Suguru or even Shoko’s presence. They’d be busy, too busy for you. You’d stand in a corner and stay quiet, and people would brush over you, a nameless person of little importance and significance.
If you’re being honest, it doesn’t sound like a good time. If Shoko really needed you it’d be one thing. But you’re sure your presence wouldn’t be missed. 
You’d let her down gently. 
You press out of the chat just as Satoru stands up to peer down your head and squint at your phone. You wonder what has him so curious, and shut your phone off and look up. 
“We should go meet up with Shoko and Suguru, shouldn’t we?”
Satoru only sighs, rubbing at his neck with a faintly irritated look on his face. That’s not good.
He takes your hand and leads you out the door.
----
Dinner is fraught with tension. You look from Satoru to Suguru who are pointedly refusing to look at each other, which is difficult, considering they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder in a crammed yakitori restaurant. 
You’re…unsure what exactly is going on. You thought your worries about Satoru and Suguru were a worry for the past, but now, it’s impossible to ignore the pointed silence, Suguru’s cool silence, or even Satoru’s increasing agitation. Without the usual sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, it’s even easier to tell Satoru's patience is running thin.
You look to Shoko, whose head rests on your shoulder as she idly scans the menu, unbothered.
“We should share the chicken meatballs,” she says. “And the squid. I’ll order two draft beers, and maybe some plum wine…”
You make noncommittal noise. Then look back to Satoru and Suguru, wondering what you can say to dissolve the tension and make them look at each other again.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Excited for the wedding?”
You smile encouragingly when they look at you.
“No,” Satoru says, unhappily. “Not really.”
You wonder why he’s even going in the first place. Is it because of Suguru? Are they fighting over attending the wedding? That sounds wrong. Satoru doesn’t like to put up with troublesome things, but for Suguru, a four hour wedding was nothing.
“Only children think the world bends to their whims,” Suguru remarks pleasantly, despite the sharp edge of his words. “Adults should know better. Even Mimiko and Nanako know better. Tsumiki and Megumi—”
If there’s one thing Satoru can’t handle, it’s a lecture from Suguru. That hasn’t changed since high school.
“Yeah?” There’s a dangerous challenge on Satoru’s tongue as his eyes narrow in accusation. “I know what I want. If that makes me a child, then fine. At least one of us does.”
“Shoko,” you whisper to her. “Something’s wrong.”
Contrary to your own panic, Shoko’s watches the two, amused. “The only thing wrong here is that I don’t have a beer.” She waves a waitress over just as Satoru and Suguru fall into stony faced silence.
A young, fresh faced waitress with her hair tied up in a ponytail bounds up to the table. Shoko lists half the menu, ordering for the table. Then she orders drinks. Alcohol for you and her, a melon soda for Satoru, water for Suguru.
“Make that three,” Suguru interjects. “I’ll have a beer too.”
She flushes prettily when Suguru gives her a polite smile, slyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. Satoru’s face darkens.
“How is medical school?” You ask Shoko. “You’re taking care of yourself, right?” You hope she’s taking breaks in between her studies and her work at the school, eating well, and sleeping a good seven hours every night. 
She faces you, cheek flattened on her open palm. “I should be asking you that. Do you even remember to eat if I don’t remind you?” She pokes your nose.
“I eat,” you say, a touch defensively, but you already know Shoko knows better. Sometimes, you forget to eat. Sometimes it’s too much of a bother. You're fine though. Healthy enough.
“Hmmm.” She turns her attention to Satoru and Suguru. “This wedding is going to be awfully awkward if you two don't kiss and make up soon.”
“Everything’s fine,” Suguru says civilly. He softens at your concerned look. “It’s fine.”
You don’t believe him.
Satoru’s gaze is flinty. “Who says we’re even going together?” 
“You’re free to go by yourself,” Suguru replies, serenely unbothered.
“Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll go with Shoko.”
“Absolutely not,” she says immediately. “I’ve already got a plus one.”
Your stomach drops, put on the spot. You hadn’t had the time to think of an adequate excuse to avoid the wedding as Shoko’s date. It’s too late for excuses if Shoko’s already told them you’re going. You can’t let her look the fool by backing out now!
They look at you. Your lips curl in an automatic smile.
There’s the beginnings of a playful grin on her face. “We’re picking out dresses tomorrow, aren’t we?”
“Yeah…”
Well, if any good came out of this wedding, it would have to be getting to go dress shopping with Shoko and helping her pick out a formal dress. You’d like that. You always thought she looked good in bold colors, and if the occasion warrants it, she’ll wear her bright red lipstick. You already feel lighter, excited at the prospect of seeing her in all different types of dresses. You’d take the job seriously, make sure you help her pick the best—
“Kimono,” Satoru states.
“Dress,” Suguru asserts.
You blink. Their gazes clash, and you can feel a chill come over you. What are they fighting over now? This might even be worse than the several occasions they fought in high school. Never had they fought about anything that couldn’t be settled with a good fistfight. Something tells you this runs deeper. It’s more than a trivial burst of high tempers, more than juvenile attitudes at work.
“What?”
A lazy smile hangs from Shoko's lips. She is thoroughly amused, taking everything in as if she’s at the theater. “I asked them whether or not I should put you in a kimono or a dress for the big event.”
You didn’t even think about what you’d wear to the wedding. You assumed Shoko would give you something. And if not, you could just go shopping. If Shoko was too busy to come, then Ijichi usually had a good eye for silhouette and fashion. You worry about your kouhai once more. He really is too competent for his own good. You hope you won't be troubling him too much in the future.
You are discomfited. You don’t want the hypotheticals of something as inconsequential as what you plan to wear to an event to be another point of contention between them.
“That’s…I don’t really care what I wear.”
“Whatever you want to wear,” Suguru says reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll look perfect regardless.”
You warm at Suguru’s words, unexpectedly abashed as you lower your gaze to your lap. It’s hard to think of yourself as perfect, especially in terms of appearances when you’re anything but. You determinedly meet Shoko’s eyes. “I’ll do my best not to embarass you,” you say deathly serious.
You’ll do your best to be sociable, speak when spoken to, and try not to let yourself get caught up in all the important people you’re sure are going to be in attendance. You figure if anything this could be practice. Making new friends. Although all you’ve known for the last years of your life is Satoru and Suguru and Shoko. Occasionally Utahime when she visits down from Kyoto. Mei Mei too, even. You can’t rely on them forever, you know this. It’s easy to forget the monotony of the days before you entered high school. Days passing while in a trance, food tasting bland, the perpetual buzzing in your ears. You slept and slept and slept. You spent more days asleep than awake until you were inevitably needed for another mission.
You don’t think you had known what it meant to live, in those days. You didn’t know that the salty breeze of the ocean was a sensation in your nose that felt akin to the seconds before a sneeze. You didn’t know that the colored disco lights in a small karaoke room could bring you so much joy. You didn’t know that hot summer days could be idle, that eating a popsicle with friends could be a momentous occasion. All of these moments, engraved on your heart. You’d take them to the grave, and you’d be content.
You still occasionally experience these fits of sadness so encompassing you drown in it. Especially around certain times in the year. Sometimes, you find it difficult to wake up. There’s a boulder in your chest, pressing on your lungs and weighing you down. You sleep for days. Wake up to remind yourself that you still exist, and close your eyes. Other days, you feel your body move on auto pilot, from one destination to another, cursory smiles and words. You don’t remember much of anything. Just that when you wake up, you feel yourself again. And if you don’t, you sleep and repeat until you do.
It’s a troubling matter to articulate. Something you’ve never quite put into words. If it’s an inconvenience to you, it’d be an annoyance to others. So you keep quiet, and hope it stays a secret, where it won’t bother anyone.
“As if that matters,” she sighs, eyeing you warmly. “ You’re not that one that needs to worry about embarrassing me.”
She side eyes the two men seated across from you, and sighs. "Hopeless.” She flings the word at them. 
Your waitress returns with skewers of meats and vegetables and more. Shoko gratefully takes her drinks, and downs half of it down. Then she takes a chicken skewer.
The rest of your meal continues in either silence or short lived conversation. Suguru asks about your thesis. About Shoko soldiering through medical school. Shoko orders more alcohol. You ask him and Satoru about Kyoto, since the two of them have been spending more and more time at Kyoto tech for one thing or another. Meetings, clan visits, Satoru visiting members of the Gojo clan, etc. You stick to safe topics of discussion, and decide that any talk about matchmaking ceremonies or arranged marriages is dangerous.
It’s only so often that the four of you can meet up like this. Adult responsibilities and all. You hope Satoru and Suguru make up soon. To you, this time is precious. And even with Satoru and Suguru refusing conversation with each other, you’re happy to be with them.
The night goes by in a blink of an eye. Shoko orders another round of drinks. Soon it’s twelve in the morning, and Shoko calls for the check. You’re getting ready to leave when your waitress approaches apprehensively.
“Excuse me,” she says, fingers curled around a piece of paper. You watch eagerly, excited at being able to watch a confession unfold. But the storminess in Satoru’s expression creeps back in and you sweat. She hesitates, gaze flicking from Satoru, back to Suguru, and draws back with a shake of her head. The scrap of paper clenches in her hand. “I’m sorry, I thought—” 
“Oh, I am,” Suguru smiles. “Single.”
Shoko chokes on her laughter. Satoru doesn’t look amused in the slightest, jealousy as palpable as a strike of lightning and the aftermath smell of burnt grass. You stare down at your lap, willing yourself to be as small as possible, discomfort prickling at your chest.
“Oh…Oh! Then I—” she flushes, looking back at the gaggle of other waitresses towards the cash register, two of whom give her a thumbs up. She extends her arms, bowing her head, piece of paper tucked between her fingers. It looks like an offering. An offering of Valentine’s day chocolate. “I wanted you to have this! Just—just in consideration of me!”
It’s undoubtedly endearing. You’ve never been in love. You wonder if you were normal, if it’d come more naturally to you. If you were a normal girl without the occasional bouts of terror and sadness and the all consuming exhaustion. Without the need to hide away every once in a while. Someone who could lead a happy and guiltless life. You wonder if you had ever had a chance. A possibility for you to be loved. Or if it had been the inevitable circumstances of your birth that had condemned you to a lonely, forgotten existence.
Shoko takes you by the arm, excusing the two of you for fresh air, before you can hear or see Suguru’s response. 
Outside, snow is beginning to fall. You stare at it as it lazily floats onto buildings, Shoko’s head, the ground. You brush the white off her head as she lights a cigarette and inhales with a gusto.
“I needed this!” She rests against the brick of the restaurant and exhales. “Those two love to make their business everyone’s problem, huh.”
Your lips twitch, despite the gravity of the situation. “I’m worried about them.”
“They’ll be fine,” she briefly stares at the lit end of her cigarette, the ashes flickering to the floor, before meeting your gaze. “They always are, aren’t they?”
----
You immediately feel out of place as you and step into the hotel’s banquet hall for the wedding reception. It’s beautiful, decorated with flowers, vines that hang from the ceiling and down the columns, and ice sculptures set up around the floor. Round tables with designated seating and personalized name cards set atop the plates fill the venue while leaving the middle of the room, the dance floor, open. Not a single yen wasted.
You scan the crowd of faces for Shoko, or even Satoru or Suguru. There’s not a single recognizable face. You swallow down your growing unease, adjust the silk skirt of your dress, and try your best to inspire confidence in yourself. 
You slowly take in the rest of the grand room, take a glass of champagne offered, and then realize you’re too nervous to drink. There seems to be an unusual amount of people concentrated around the main entrance. Your skin prickles uncomfortably. Years later, you still don’t do well around consistent crowds of people. Sometimes, it feels like if you’re slowly suffocating, boxed in where the walls are slowly closing in on you.
It’s not a pleasant feeling. You walk in the opposite direction and try to tune it out, careful not to grip the champagne glass too tightly. You hadn’t been invited to the actual wedding procession. You wouldn’t be invited to the Shinto ceremony either. That was reserved only for a special group of guests. You’re glad for it. You don’t know if you can survive in close quarters with people important enough to run the country of Japan.
“There you are,” a familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts, a hand on your shoulder.
You turn, brightening. “Shoko!”
She looks stunning in the dark crimson gown she picked out when the two of you had gone dress shopping, and you can already see a few interested glances in her direction. Her hair is braided up, exposing her slender neck, and you can smell the cypress of her favorite perfume. You catch yourself staring at the red lining her lips, a few shades lighter than dress. If anything, you think being able to see Shoko like this is worth all the troubles of pretending to be… somebody.  
“How was the wedding?” You hand her your own untouched champagne. She lifts it to her lips and it’s gone.
That gets a grin out of her. “Interesting.”
She tells you that it had been an arranged marriage, and the bride had staunchly resisted the match, to the last second, which explained the closed, intimate ceremony. Furthermore, the bride refused to write and recite her vows, which had made for an entertaining scene on the altar. And that when the groom had leaned down to kiss her, she had angled her face away, so that his lips had collided with her cheek instead of lips.
The story is entertaining. Though you can’t help but feel bad for the bride, forced into a marriage by forces outside her control. What if she was already in love with somebody else? What if she had no interest in marriage? What is she didn't want a husband?
Shoko draws back a step, looking you up and down with a nod of approval. She smooths out the neckline of your dress. “I thought you’d look good in this one. It makes me want to show you off.”
You glance down at the silk dress adorned on you, so soft it ripples with every movement. It’s a pretty dress, although you’re sure you don’t do it justice.
“How are Satoru and Suguru?” You ask hesitantly.
Shoko tilts her head towards the main entrance. “How about you ask them yourself?”
Upon closer inspection, you realize the crowd of people around the entrance had been gathered around Satoru and Suguru. Huh. You didn’t originally notice them. You must have been too caught up in your head.
“No thanks,” you say, not wanting to intrude, but you take the time to watch them for a little longer.
Suguru’s face is animated with a bright smile as he converses with several other older guests, head slightly inclined in a politely deferential stance. They’re both in Kimonos. Matching colors. That brings a smile to your face. Still united in some way even if they may be in the midst of a long standing argument.
Satoru’s face is shaded with sunglasses, a suspiciously blank expression in the indifferent set of his lips. You aren’t sure you’ve caught his eye, but he perks in your direction, and when you raise your hand in a slight wave, he straightens.
Shoko weaves her arm through yours. “Alright, let’s get more drinks!”
You catch the frown forming on his lips just as Shoko tugs you away.
Shoko manages to get an entire bottle of champagne. Then she leads you to the largest table in the room, towards the front of the banquet hall, and gestures to your seat next to hers before taking a seat and filling her glass back up.
“I healed the bride’s father a while back,” she says, taking a sip of the champagne. “Stage 4 kidney cancer.” She makes a face. “I hate making house calls, but the higher ups insisted. I’m not trying to become a private doctor.”
“He must have been grateful.”
“He was,” she snorts. “He tried to buy me into his employ.” She leans back into her seat, looking at the banquet hall. “The man certainly has the money.”
“You like it at jujutsu tech,” you say with a bright smile. “You’d never leave us.” You’d like to think she’d never leave you.  
“I wouldn’t leave you,” she says, matter of factly. “How could I leave you with those two insensitive jerks?"
You’re so pleased you don’t think your smile can contain it all. She said she wouldn’t leave you. The champagne you took one sip of sits bubbly in your stomach. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad. Less work, more money…” you shrug. “If it made you happy, I wouldn’t mind.” Jujustu tech would probably fall apart without Shoko, so you leave that part out. You just want her to be happy.
She exhales. “I’m happy where I am right now.”
The two of you share a smile.
Shoko’s bottle inevitably runs empty while she recounts a funny incident in medical school involving a cadaver, and you offer to get her another one.
When you come back, there’s a man you don’t recognize in your seat, conversing with Shoko. You wonder what they’re talking about, for Shoko to look so unusually engaged. You’ve observed her in all her varying degrees of disinterest and moods to be able to read her well. You don’t want to disturb her. So you drop the bottle on the nearby counter of the open bar and turn on your heels to do another lap around the room. Once again, you spot Suguru and Satoru, who have relocated to underneath one of the glass stained windows running the length of the wall of the room.
Satoru is with the groom, a tall man with handsome features dressed in a tailored black suit. The rising star politician, you assume. Next to him, his sullen bride stands, surly disposition visible all the way from your place in the room. A stunning emerald dress is draped across her figure, ending at her ankles. Her arms are crossed. Satoru’s lips move in response.
Next to him, a couple feet away, Suguru is talking to a woman dressed in a silver colored heavy furisode, the two of them deep in conversation. Your interest is piqued. You can’t quite see her face, her back towards you, but you think she may be Suguru’s matchmaking attendee. 
You should give them privacy. Well. You shouldn’t be gawking at them. You turn just as someone else steps behind you, colliding into them. The ensuing collision has you precariously teetering back. Before you can regain your balance, a strong hand wraps around your upper arm, another around your waist, steadying you at once.
“You alright?”
The man you bumped into you gives you a dirty look, before continuing on his way. You look at the man. There’s something familiar about the set of his cheekbones, the curl of his lips in an easy smile, his dark green gaze, like the clearing of a forest. You’ve had this thought before, long ago. When the green of a boy’s eyes made you remember there was color in the world.
“Yes,” you reply slowly, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’ve been watching you.”
You stare at him, unsure of how to take his comment. Watching…you…? You hope you haven’t done anything embarrassing. “Excuse me…?”
He promptly drops his arms and steps away. You slowly move to take a step back. Maybe you could pretend someone was calling you over—
“Wait a minute! That made me sound—” he shakes his head. “Wait.” He extends his hand, a wide grin on his face. “Let's start over! Shirokami Hideo.”
It clicks. Oh. You know this man. Well, you knew the boy. You don’t remember much from your time at the Kamo compound. It’s a series of blurred faces and muffled voices. Long stretches of darkness. You slept a lot back then too, you think, because the only thing you do remember in clarity is the sandalwood scent of your comforter, and your preference for sleeping on futons. 
“Hideo-kun,” you say, as you remember a shallow brook deep in the forest, and the boy who had taught you to catch fireflies with his hands. You wonder how and why you had forgotten in the first place. You left the Kamo compound, and forgot it all in the monotony of the ensuing years. His voice is deeper, and he’s grown into his face, but if nothing else, his eyes are the same. “I remember you.”
He beams. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Do you still like stargazing?”
---
The surprise must be evident on your face because he sheepishly scratches his face. “The first time you talked to me, it was to tell me that I was looking at the Canis Major, not the Crow.”
You don’t remember it, but it touches you just the same. To think that someone remembered you, even when you didn’t. You had left a piece of yourself in someone.
You take a bite of your lobster, nodding. “I do. I try to go when I can. But I’ve been so busy lately…” You’ve also been meaning to take the kids with you one night. When the weather warms up, you’ll bring them to the mountains. They’d like that. You know Tsumiki was delighted when you gave her a book that illustrated the constellations. You had bought it for her with Megumi on one of your outings.
Hideo nods in sympathy. “It’s tough being a jujutsu sorcerer. Trust me, I’m taking advantage of the low season to take time off to relax!”
The two of you sit at a table tucked away in the far corner. Hideo’s table. There had been an empty seat which he offered. You gratefully accepted, especially when you managed to catch a glimpse of your original table. You had seen Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru. Along with the bride, groom, and a couple other distinguished people seated at the table. You’re glad to escape from the scrutiny. You do much better in obscurity. 
You spent the last hour catching up. Hideo was mainly located in Kyoto, with his clan, a Kamo branch family, but he had been preparing to move to Tokyo for a change in scenery.
You knew him for a brief three months, before his return to his clan for his mother’s funeral. He regretted not being able to leave you a note, or tell you that he was leaving. He tried to contact you after, but nobody knew your whereabouts, especially since you moved back to Tokyo and was subsequently lost in the system.
Currently, with his father on bedrest, he was preparing to take over the clan from Tokyo. The move to Tokyo is an effort to bridge the gap and relationship between the Tokyo and Kyoto jujtusu societies.
In return, you offered your own mundane and uneventful recollection of your life up to this point. Compared to Hideo’s, you didn’t have much to offer. You moved to Tokyo after studying the katana at the Kamo compound. Undertook missions as expected of you, and lived alone up until high school. Then you enrolled in jujutsu tech. Now you’re in school for your masters, and then hopefully, a PHD.
It feels odd to talk to someone other than Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. You don’t know Hideo nearly as well, despite a brief history together. Where you can search for familiarity in the softness of Suguru’s smile, the mischievous curl of Shoko’s lips, Satoru’s straightforward demeanor, there’s nothing here to cling to. You don’t remember what it ever meant to be without them. It’s alarming. It’s frightening.
But you think this is what it means to start anew.
The room quiets as a spoon taps glass. Attention gathers towards the table in the middle of the room where an older man in a tuxedo stands. It’s a five minute speech that you don’t really give much thought to, your thoughts with the bride who looks precariously close to storming out of the room.
Hideo tilts his head towards you, his lips in your ear. “She doesn’t look too happy, huh.”
You have to agree.
There are three more speeches. You don’t recognize anybody. Soon after, conversation fills the room once more.
During a lull in a conversation, you excuse yourself to the restroom for a few minutes to yourself. Upon entering the brightly lit room, your gaze is directed towards a woman seated on one of the loveseats in front of a large, wall length mirror, fixing her makeup. You recognize her silver kimono immediately, and when the small, compact mirror slips from her hand and onto the floor by your feet, you bend down to hand it to her. There’s a lotus engraved onto the back of the mirror. 
“Thank you,” she says delicately, fingers brushing yours as she takes back her mirror. Up close, you take in her full appearance. The delicate contours of her light makeup to her exceptionally beautiful hazel eyes. Her brown hair is shoulder length, brushing her shoulders, bangs immaculately cut across her forehead. She looks like a doll, even more so when she gives you an inquisitive look, a polite smile curling her lips.
“Is something the matter?” 
You realize you’ve been staring. Your face burns. “I’m sorry,” you say, voice reedy, unable to articulate how lovely you think she looks, or how you had seen her talking to Suguru earlier, and whether or not she is who you think she is. So you simply awkwardly look at her. Nod your head in a curt goodbye and turn back around, intent on not speaking to anyone but Hideo for the rest of the evening, lest you embarrass yourself further.
You run right into someone’s chest, and hear a familiar voice say your name, the familiar scent of sandalwood in your nose, as a hand on your upper arm rights you back up.
“Suguru,” you say happily, looking at him. Up close, you think he looks especially handsome in his dark blue kimono. His usually pulled up hair is down, flowing down his back. You like it when he lets his hair down. You didn’t think you’d get to see him, or even talk to him today. “I seem to be bumping into a lot of people today…”
Concern immediately colors his face as he smooths your hair down and fixes the shoulder of your dress. His hand stays on your shoulder, thumb tracing your collarbone in comforting motions. “Everything alright?”
“Yes!” You reply immediately to assuage his concern, if anything. You hope he's alright. Or at least making nice with Satoru for the duration of this event. You're sure they've grown past making a public spectacle of their arguments, but one can never be too sure. “I’m no good at these types of events. I guess I’m just a little nervous…”
“I was looking for you,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Shoko said you were…” his features grow taunt, lips tugging into a slight frown, “fine. But you weren’t in your seat.”
Shoko must have seen you with Hideo. Which meant she looked for you. Your smile grows wider. However, even the thought of returning to your designated seat surrounded by the most important people at the event you’d be expected to converse with makes your stomach twist. Embarrassing yourself was one thing. Embarrassing Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko was another.
“She’s right,” you confirm, doing your best to reassure him. “I found an old friend!”
His lips reflexively twitch into a smile, maintaining an amiable expression, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “An…old friend…?”
“I’ve been with him the entire time, so you don’t need to worry. I’ll introduce you,” you say eagerly, excited at the prospect of being able to introduce Hideo to Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. “He—”
“Are you cold?” Suguru suddenly asks you lightly, hand slightly squeezing your shoulder. “The air condition is cold in here, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” you blink. “...Are you cold?” That wouldn’t do. Maybe you could ask the hotel receptionist—
“Geto-sama,” a voice interrupts, “I didn’t think I’d find you out here.” You turn, seeing the woman in the silver kimono, once more, smiling, a fresh layer of red painting her lips. You straighten, resisting the urge to smooth out your dress.
“I was on my way to get some air,” Suguru answers with a smile of his own. “I ran into a close friend.” He chuckles goodnaturedly. “I’m trying to convince her to come back with me.”
Come back with him?
Her gaze slides to you. If she remembers you, her expression is unreadable. Her eyes slightly widen. “Oh my,” she lifts her hand to her mouth. “Is it your seat I’ve taken? My apologies—”
“Oh, it’s fine!” You wave her off. She looks genuinely apologetic. “Please, take my seat. I’ve found another with an old friend.”
“Is that so…” She trails off, glancing up at Suguru. “Forgive me, we haven’t been properly introduced.” She lowers her head. “Sasaki Kumiko. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.”
You reply with your own name, and an encouraging smile.
“Speaking of,” you step away. “I’ve kept Hideo-kun waiting long enough. Why don’t you take her with you to get fresh air, Suguru?”
“It would be a pleasure,” Kumiko says, eyes brightening at the idea, giving a face a certain type of incandescent joy. “I would love to accompany you.”
You don’t wait for his reply to make yourself scarce. You give his hand a little squeeze, before making your way back to Hideo.
The two of you fall back into easy conversation and talk until the moon is high and bright in the sky. Plates are cleared and guests start to rise once again, mingling and talking as the dancefloor begins to fill up.
You’re unsure of what to do. Should you look for Shoko again? You’re not much of a dancer. You don’t want to hold her back with your discomfort. Hideo lightly taps on your arm, bending down to whisper into your ear: “There’s a garden outside. Do you want to walk with me?”
You are instantly relieved. With everybody crowded around the dance floor to witness the bride and groom’s first dance, the two of you would be able to slip outside. Nobody would be there. You could get away.
You nod, and he takes your hand, leading you towards the exit leading to the hotel lobby, and then outside. As the two of you step out into the pebble lined path, lit up in anticipation for the wedding, you can still hear the strings of the quartet playing from the ballroom. Immaculately tended flowers line the path, flowers of every color and shape. You sigh, feeling the tension slipping from your body. 
“I’m sorry if I scared you. Earlier.” Hideo laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, turning to you earnestly. “I saw you earlier, and I spent so much time thinking of what to say to you that I completely forgot what I was going to say!”
You laugh, despite the outside chill trailing over your body. You relate to the feeling of your tongue not working at times. “You didn’t scare me. But I did think you mistook me for someone else at first,” you admit. You were initially perturbed, that was true. You’re glad he cleared the air before you managed to escape. You’re glad that you’ve met him again, after all these years.
The path opens to a small clearing with an empty fountain as Hideo fondly details his short lived time at the main Kamo estate with you. At the Kamo compound, he was one of many boys, left alone to his own devices in favor of the more elite sons of the family. It was the first time he had ever tasted freedom away from his own clan estate, where he was coddled by servants and his sickly mother.
Upon your silence, he looks at you, concerned. “Is it cold?” He moves to take off his jacket but you stop him.
“It’s not that,” you blurt out. The cold feels good on your skin. Calms you down. “I don’t remember much from back then. It’s all…hazy.” Any recollection of your childhood draws a blank. It makes you feel bad that you can’t dignify his memories with your own. “But I know that…” you trail off, staring at your feet. “You were kind to me. Back then.” Even you know that you hadn’t been in the right state of mind so soon after your father died. You wanted to leave the past behind. You didn’t want to remember. You had to forget to survive.
You sit down on the cold surface of stone, and exhale. You didn’t realize Hideo’s appearance would dredge up the past like this. You feel tired all of a sudden. You want to go back to the apartment you’ve made a home, curl up in your bed, and let sleep claim you once more.
A weight settles on your shoulders as the warmth of Hideo’s jacket envelopes you. He takes a seat next to you, gaze searching yours. 
“You were a child,” he says gently. “It’s okay to forgive yourself—”
You don’t hear the rest of his words as blood rushes to your ears. You can’t swallow the lump in your throat, and your face feels hot to the touch. Your fingers curl into the skirt of your dress. Forgiveness . You have no right to forgiveness. You allow yourself just enough happiness, and that’s enough. 
“—it was only three months.” His gaze turns a touch concerned. “Are you alright?”
Panic bubbles in your chest as you manage shallow breaths, staring at him in increasing discomfort as your vision begins to go spotty.
Forgiveness? Your father died before he could forgive you. He died resenting your birth. He wished you had died instead of your mother. The forgiveness to absolve yourself isn't yours.
“There you are.”
You’d recognize the sharp cadence of Satoru’s voice anywhere. You focus on it. He’s unhappy. You wonder if he got into another fight with Suguru. You turn to where he stands, arms crossed, jaw set into a hard line. In the moonlight he glows otherworldly, a piece of divinity on earth. If only his expression matched.
His eyes are piercingly alight as he approaches. “Shoko’s looking for you.”
“Oh.” You perk up. “She is?” In your momentary elation at the prospect of seeing Shoko again, the anxiety dissipates enough for you to collect yourself. You almost forget to make introductions, but Hideo beats you to it, standing up. 
“Gojo-sama,” he says, inclining his head. “It’s an—”
“Like I care,” is Satoru’s clipped response. A dismissive glance in Hideo’s general direction, before his gaze is focused on you again. You stare at him, taken aback at his rudeness.
He pulls you up, not roughly, and examines you with a keen eye. He takes in the coat on your shoulders, and irritation shrouds his face once more. He swipes it off your shoulders and throws it back on the fountain. Then he takes off his haori and sweeps it over your shoulders. Without another word, he takes you by the wrist and away.
You give Hideo one last glance over your shoulder. He waves, a good natured smile on his face.
You eye Satoru’s back, trying to tug your hand back to your side to no avail. His fingers are locked around your wrist. Despite his annoyance, you’re happy to see him. There’s so much you want to tell him, about all the small details about your shameful past you tried to hide, about the small things you did remember about your time at the Kamo compound, even about Hideo—
You are backed into a wall, Satoru looming above you, eyes flashing. “Who the hell was that?”
You blink at him, looking from Satoru’s left arm caging you into the wall, to the other with slight disbelief.  “Shirokami…Hideo…” We lived together when we were younger. Back when I had nobody. Back when I was a ghost. He taught me how to catch fireflies. I don’t remember much about those days, but I think he made me happy.
You hold your tongue.
You hope you aren’t being presumptuous. “He’s a friend—”
Satoru’s fingers dig into your chin as he lifts your face up. You look into his eyes, brighter than the moon hanging in the sky, and you think there’s something disconcerting in the way he looks at you. Like you could ask him to defy the laws of the world. For you, he do it. And if you asked him to bring down a star, he’d lay it on your palm.
The world stills, just as it usually does when you meet his gaze. Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you stare at him, daring you to pull away, to drop your gaze back to your feet.
You feel his hand curl around your nape, pulling you to him with a squeeze that feels branding. He takes your lips with a bruising kiss, pressing you back into a garden shed. A startled noise leaves your open lips, and Satoru takes advantage, teeth sinking into your bottom lip with a distinct viciousness. You feel his tongue dragging against your own, hungry. Your eyes widen, never leaving his lidded stare that could be a glare. His hands come up to cup your face, angling you to his whims, effectively keeping you still against the onslaught of his lips as he steals your breath away.
He’s all you can see and feel. The heat of him, his palpable desire, so feverish it eats you alive. You push at his chest, feeling the lack of oxygen muddle your brain but he only holds you tighter. When he finally pulls away, a string of saliva briefly connects your lips, broken when Satoru’s tongue runs over his lips. Your hands are fisted into the fabric of his nagagi so tightly that you’ve pulled it open, exposing more of his chest than necessary. You let go, hands falling limp to your side.
His eyes lower back to your lips, and you startle. You’d take a step back if you could, but instead you push back into the wall. Somewhere in between, Satoru had lifted you up, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist, dress hiked up. Satoru’s hand is resting on your bare thigh with a grip that has no intention of letting you move, and a shiver rips through your body as you inhale gulps of air. His leg rests between your thighs, reminding you of the uncomfortable wetness staining your panties.
He leans forward and you unknowingly tense, but instead of your lips you feel a sting on your neck. Teeth. You wince, but Satoru holds you in place, fingers curling into you like a warning. You feel his tongue tracing the bruise, before he straightens with a finality. You might be shaking but you’re unsure if it’s from the cold or…
You stare at him, stunned, while he meets your gaze unrepentantly.
“I…” your voice trembles as the awful reality slowly sets in. “Could you…” you struggle with the words. “...Please put me down.”
For one terrifying second, you see the beginnings of the stubborn set of his eyebrows, as if he might refuse.
Then, wordlessly, wearing a frown, he lifts you down.
You don’t think. You bend down on unsteady legs to pick up his fine haori that had fallen to the ground, and neatly fold it. You hand it to him. He takes it. 
“Good night,” you intone.
You stiffly walk back into the hotel lobby, where everyone has gathered, ready to leave for the night or take taxis to the invite exclusive after party. You think you might walk to the train station. Nothing feels real.
You should text Shoko. Tell her that you didn’t feel good and that you took a taxi home. Yes, you’ll do that.
You accidentally meet Suguru’s searching gaze from across the room. You register surprise across his face. Then he slowly makes his way through the crowd. There's something wet on your lips, and when you raise your hand there's a smear of blood on your fingers. You take a step back, stomach twisting into knots. You’ll walk.
You’ll walk.
You turn around, starting through the hotel lobby where cabs have begun to line the entrance and the streets outside. You'll feel bad later. You walk through it all. Once you get far away enough, you manage to flag an empty taxi down.
You don’t remember the car ride home. You enter your apartment and make it to your bed just as your legs buckle. You fall asleep in daze, wondering if the night was all just a bad dream.
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coldbanana1331 · 3 months
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How the JJK mean react to you drawing on a beard
fem! reader
category:fluff ♥️💋
Idk why but I thought this was hilarious and wanted to share it with the internet 🛜
Gojo
As you sat in front of the mirror, armed with a marker and a mischievous grin, you couldn’t help a giggle at your own weird humor. Your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, was on his way back home, and you had a little surprise in store for him. With swift strokes, you drew a comically, elaborate beard, with twirl mustache, and admired your handiwork.
Moments later, the door swung open, and in walked your boyfriend, completely oblivious to the transformation you had just undergone. You suppressed your laughter and did your best act nonchalant, innocently rearranging some papers on the table. As he entered the room, his eyes narrowed, a hint of confusion and his gaze.
“What’s up babe?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at your suspicious behavior. Trying to play it cool, you turn to him with an innocent smile.
”Oh hey! You’re back already? How was your day?” You asked, trying to maintain a poker face while a fake beard was mercilessly plastered against your face.
His eyes widened as he took in the site, clearly struggling to contain his laughter. He cleared his throat and composed himself before replying, his voice teasingly serious.
”Um, it was alright, but I don’t remember you having some facial hair before I left. Did you discover a hidden talent while I was out?”
You struggle contain your laughter as well, playing along with this quip. “Oh this?” You stroke your beard a little. “Well I uh…it’s in the genes. What you don’t like it?” You tease.
He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Well I must say that’s some impressive “genes” you’ve got there.”
Both if you burst into laughter before you had scurried off to scrub the beard raw. After all you did have work in the morning.
Nanamin
You have been dating for a few months now and he has always been very serious and focused on his duties as a sorcerer. You hope this little joke will help him lighten up and show a more playful side.
When Nanami finally arrives, he is dressed in his traditional jujutsu sorcerer attire, his expression stoic and determined. He barely acknowledges you as he greets you and goes to take off his shoes.
You stand in front of him, proudly displaying your drawn-on beard, waiting for his reaction. However, Nanami's expression remains unchanged as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
'What is that?' he asks.
You dramatically stroke your drawn-on beard and pose confidently.
'It's my new beard! Do you like it?' you ask, trying to hold back a smile.
Nanami's expression softens slightly as he tries to hold back a small smile of his own.
'It's...interesting,' he responds, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.
'Don't you think it suits me?' you tease.
Nanami looks at you, a softness in his eyes as he leans down to kiss you.
'You always look beautiful to me, with or without a beard,' he says, making your heart skip a beat.
You chuckle and playfully swat his arm.
'Cheesy, but I'll take it,' you say, grinning.
Nanami smiles and pulls you closer, his serious facade melting away as he enjoys this playful moment with you.
'I suppose I can lighten up a little,' he admits, causing you to laugh and pull him into a hug.
You spend the evening together, enjoying each other's company and your little joke. And even though Nanami may still be serious and focused on his duties as a sorcerer, you know that he also has a playful side that you will always cherish.
Choso
As you finish drawing on the fake beard, you can't help but stifle a giggle. Your boyfriend, Choso, is always poking fun at your little quirks, and today, you're going to give him a taste of his own medicine.
With the beard securely in place, you walk out to the living room to greet Choso. He's sitting on the couch, flipping through a book with his usual bored expression. You hold back a laugh as you try to maintain a serious face.
'Hey, babe. What's up?' you say in your best serious voice.
Choso looks up at you, taking in your 'bearded' face. He raises an eyebrow and gives you a suspicious look.
'What's going on with your face?' he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You immediately drop the act, bursting into a fit of laughter.
'I couldn't resist!' you say, finally removing the fake beard.
Choso shakes his head, a small grin playing on his lips.
'You are something else,' he says, a hint of affection in his tone.
You both collapse onto the couch, laughing and joking around like the silly couple you are.
As the laughter dies down, Choso pulls you in for a kiss.
'I love that you keep me on my toes,' he says, his eyes full of love.
You can't help but smile, grateful to have such a wonderful and boyfriend like Choso by your side.
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em1e · 1 year
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夏 + 五条 // OLVIDADA ⠀ ༝ ༝ gojo satoru + geto suguru ⠀ ༝ ༝ 2.9k words ⠀ ⚠︎ angst :3 this is a cyoe story ! [ endings are tbp ] ⠀ — [ part 1 ] you were supposed to be dead, but by some miracle gojo's found you. gojo, too.
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i. alive
“So,” he starts after taking a sip of his drink, “where have you been all these years?” 
You pause for a second longer than necessary, letting your finger run around the rim of your cup before sighing, “I lost my memory a few years ago . . . “ And he lets you delve into the same story you told Gojo, Geto hanging onto every word you say like it’s the last thing he could ever hear from you. 
“. . . and Gojo and I have been kinda just been getting to know each other again.” 
You only look back up at him when you’ve finished retelling your most recent memories, wanting to try and gauge his reaction based on what you’ve told him. 
He’s quiet for a moment before he tilts his head towards you, “So Gojo and you, you’ve been bonding?” 
You laugh a little, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and scrunching your nose, “Something like that, I guess. More like catching up? He’s trying to help me remember anything, but it isn’t really helping.” 
Your smile turns sheepish, looking back down to your coffee, “It is nice to hear about the memories, though - they’re just new stories but me and you and Gojo are the stars.” 
The analogy is . . . cute. Very fitting with your current profession, and not at all something Geto could expect when surrounded by curses. There’s something so innocent about it, so pure that has him clutching his sleeves in his fists and sending another smile your way. 
“So how do you deal with it all?” The question leaves you with furrowed brows, head tilting to the side as if you need him to elaborate. 
“‘It all’?” You repeat, unsure of what kind of answer he’s really looking for, “I mean, I’ve been to therapy I guess, when I was younger and still trying to figure everything out, but I’ve got a handle on it all now and - “
“You’ve figured it all back out on your own?” 
You almost want to be annoyed at how frequently he’s interrupting you, coddled by Gojo the past few weeks reminding you how different the two are, but his saccharine smile never falters and you can’t really find it in yourself to be upset.  He’s just curious, after all. 
“Most of it, yeah,” you hum, unsure of yourself, “but it’s been easier with Gojo around - and now you too, hopefully.” Your smile mimics his own, and he’s reminded of one of the last photos you took together as a group, eyes squinted and head tilted. He thinks about that memory often, chaining it to his heart and he wonders for a moment if it’s something Gojo has mentioned to you. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
ii. scattered
You and Geto part ways after talking for hours (up until the cafe closes - the workers have to politely ask you to leave), and you promise to keep in contact. Something warm settles in your chest, happy to have another portion of your past back, even if it’s only bit by bit. Like piecing a puzzle together. 
When you make it to your apartment, only half-paying attention to what you’re doing while trying to send a text to Geto so he has your number, you bump shoulders with someone. Immediate apologies fall off your lips, almost dropping your phone in favor of assisting whoever you’ve just run into, when you fully process the mop of white hair in front of you. 
“Oh! Hey Gojo, I didn’t know you were coming by,” you smile, moving past him to unlock your front door, “you won’t believe who I just talked to.” 
“I was just in the neighborhood,” he waves dismissively and follows behind you as you push your door open, “you’re not gonna tell me you ran into a celebrity without me, are you?” 
“No,” you laugh, sliding off your shoes while he shuts the door and does the same, “I ran into Geto!” 
You miss the way he freezes, too busy putting away your bag and putting on a pot of tea to notice, and he recovers relatively quickly, all things considered. 
“That so?” 
“Mhm,” you hum, “we talked for the last like . . . three hours? Would’ve never known it was him without you showin’ me that picture.”
When you turn to face him, he’s still hovering by the door. Maybe he hasn’t recovered as much as he thought. 
It makes you pause your ramblings, “Something wrong? I know you guys aren’t exactly friends-,” you gasp, ”oh god am I bringing up bad memories or something? I’m so sorry, I should’ve-” 
“It’s okay.” He smiles, but it does little to ease your concerns, “we still aren’t on the best of terms, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
He watches you pull your lip between your teeth, still very anxious at the prospect of making him upset. He steps forward and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair with a hum, “Promise, it’s fine. Tell me what you guys talked about?” 
Gojo moves past you to turn off the boiling tea, grabbing two cups for the both of you to keep his hands busy while you talk, worried if he doesn’t, you’ll see how they shake. 
You tell him about the various topics you managed to dive into, most being things you’ve already talked about with Gojo, along with some new additions sprinkled into the mix thanks to Geto. 
Gojo is silent as you speak, nursing his cup of tea and shaking his head with a smile when you offer to get him a new cup. You frown, not liking how quiet he is. You poke his temple three times, and he blinks each time, before looking at you. 
“What was that for?”
“Come on, Gojo, conversations need two people to participate,” you hold up that number of fingers, then point at one with your other hand, “it’s no fun if I’m the only one talking.” 
He hums in agreement, and you sigh, shaking his shoulder, “What’s wrong? You’re usually more talkative than I am.” 
“‘M just thinking.” He says dismissively, looking back into his cup to avoid the way your eyes bore into him, seeking more than what he has to offer. 
“That’s dangerous.” You counter instead, tapping at his temple again until he scowls and swats your hand away. 
“Ha ha ha, very funny. You should become a comedian.” 
“You think so? I’d miss my kids too much, but if you think I could, maybe I could take up a second job,” you laugh, “but then I wouldn’t have time for you-” 
“We wouldn’t want to take that from you,” he interrupts before you can finish, “your kids, I mean.” 
“Like I could live without you too.” You hum, knocking your knee into his. 
He gives you a genuine smile at that, and that’s enough to let you go back to whatever you were talking about before. 
ii. dead
“How long were you gonna keep it from me?” 
The words are bitter as Geto spits them out, arms crossing over his chest and head tilting while he takes in his friend. 
His friend, who doesn’t look bothered in the slightest by the venom being thrown his way. 
“Forever, if I could. Was really unlucky they happened to see you.” Gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, kicking at a crumpled piece of paper in the dark alley the two decided to have this chat in. 
“So you found them, and just decided keeping it to yourself was best? That I of all people didn’t deserve to know-” 
“They don’t remember anything about sorcerery.” 
Gojo’s declaration is enough to leave Geto almost gaping, before he squints and straightens his shoulders, “What do you mean?” 
“Exactly what I said,” Gojo sighs out, leaning against the brick wall, “they don’t remember Jujutsu Tech for training, or any of the missions we went on - I don’t even think they remember how to see curses or use their technique. Think it’s just something that’s blocked in their mind.” 
“Have you tried talking to them about that?” Geto’s curiosity of it all getting the better of him. 
Gojo looks down, shaking his head, “No. I don’t . . . find it worth it. To spoil their happiness like that.” 
Geto clicks his tongue, “I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”  
“Doesn’t matter,” Gojo shrugs, stretching, “they’re content with what they know, with the life they’ve built. Neither of us are gonna ruin that for them.” 
“And if I do?” Geto challenges, chin rising and eyes narrowing, “Not like you can keep your eyes on them forever, and I think being a sorcerer is something someone deserves to know about themselves.” 
“I’ll kill you.” Gojo says easily. Calmly, if not for the way he glares behind his blindfold. 
Geto grins, all teeth, “I’d love for you to try.” 
iv. hypomnesia
A few weeks have passed since you first met Geto, and you fear he’s been ghosting you. You’ve sent a couple of texts, but the thought of annoying him overwrites any want to talk to him more, so you leave it be until he decides to message back - if ever. 
You’re submitting grades for some of your students when your phone dings. 
The sound honestly startles you, the classroom being silent other than the sound of your typing, and one glance to the device has you forgoing the B+ grade you were about to put in to instead unlock your phone and read the message. 
Geto 
Meet me at that cafe in two hours? 
Your fingers hover over the keyboard while you mull over a reply. 
You
i have plans with gojo then :( i can meet now if you’re free? 
You watch as the gray text bubble pops up, dancing on the screen before disappearing. 
Geto
Sure :) See you soon. 
You shut down your computer with a hum to yourself, making a mental note to finish when you get home before you and Gojo go out to dinner, grab your coat and your bag, and head out the door. 
Geto’s already in the cafe when you arrive, sitting in the same place from before, and offers a small smile when you sit across from him. 
“Were you waiting long? Sorry, I ran into one of my kids’ parents while I was leaving and they dragged me into a conversation about a project-” 
He waves dismissively, “Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t waiting too long.” 
You give a small sigh of relief, shoulders visabley relaxing at this, “Okay good. . . so, what’s up, how have you been these past few weeks?” You smile and Geto can’t stop himself from returning it. 
“‘ve been alright. I actually wanted to talk to you about something, though, if that’s alright. About our past.” 
Your brows shoot up in surprise, head tilting as the waiter brings you your drink. The same thing you’d ordered before. It’s sweet, almost, how he remembered. 
“What do you mean? Gojo and you already told me it all, right?” 
“Well,” he pauses to sip from his own drink, licking his lips before continuing, “it seems Gojo has left out details I thought he’d told you.” 
“Details?” You parrot, head tilting, “what do you mean?” 
He clicks his tongue as if deciding his next words carefully, using the straw to his drink to swirl it around in the cup, “You - we are something called sorcerers. We have abilities that allow us to use cursed techniques and defeat things called curses, and it’s what we attended Jujutsu Tech to train for.”
You’re openly staring at him as he speaks, opening your mouth to reply but stopping yourself when he continues, “When you lost your memory, we were fighting some curses and you . . . you fell off a building, and we couldn’t find you in the rubble after.” He reaches out to grab your hand, and you flinch at the movement, not even realizing you were shaking until his own clasps over yours. 
Everything was blurring around you. 
The ground was rushing towards you so fast and so slow, and the wind whipping around your ears made it harder to process what’d happened seconds before. 
You were hit, you think. By a curse or a person or something. You don’t know. You don’t remember. It hit you, and now you’re falling, and your cursed technique wouldn’t do you any good now if you could use it. 
What even was it again? 
The rush of air flowing past your ears is unbearable, everything around you melting into one mess, until all at once, all you feel is nothing.  
You yank your hand from his with a gasp, eyes wide and cradling it to yourself as if he’s burned you. 
“What was that?” You whisper out, voice quivering. 
Geto’s smile is gentle as he retracts his own hand, placing it atop the other in his lap, “Your memories, I imagine, are back now?” 
“What was that?” You repeat, fingers clutching the front of your shirt as if it could bring you some comfort. Closing your eyes for a second brings everything crashing back to you, the rush of the wind, the feeling of free falling, the chair behind you falls to the ground as you stand abruptly, sucking in a breath as if all the air has been stolen from your lungs. 
Maybe it has, if the way you’re breathing is anything to go by. 
He reaches forward, maybe to comfort you, maybe to help calm you down, but you’re stepping away before you can find out. Hurt flashes in his eyes, only for a second, then he’s dropping his hands back into his lap and gesturing to something to his right. 
Your eyes meet . . . something. A small blob of green fat floating beside Geto, and you cover your mouth to stop yourself from screaming or puking or whatever squeak could pass your lips. 
“I think we should take a second to calm down,” he’s starting to say, but you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, hear the way your heartbeat is thumping in your chest, and you’re turning on your heel before you can fully process the movement. 
“(y/n)-” he’s calling out, standing to follow you, but when you don’t turn to acknowledge it, he stays in place. You just need some time alone to process it. He understands. He can wait. 
For you, he can wait. 
You stumble home, avoiding other blobs of flesh and things even taller than you that you can only assume are the curses that Geto’d started to tell you about. Maybe you should’ve stayed long enough to relearn about them. You can only offer a half-hearted apology as your shoulder bumps into someone in the hall to your apartment. 
Vertigo takes over when the familiar smell of Gojo surrounds you, and he catches you before you can fall over. 
“Woah, slow down there, what’s goin’ on?” He asks, leading you to your door when you don’t answer. 
He eases your keys from your shaking hands, unlocking your door and guiding you inside while you hold him like a lifeline. 
“Why dontcha tell me what’s wrong?” He whispers gently as he sets you on the couch, fixing your shirt when it wrinkles but freezing when you grab his wrist to stop him. 
“You didn’t tell me everything.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s almost damning the way you speak. 
“What’re you talking ‘bout?” Gojo asks like you’ve said something silly, like he can’t believe what you’re saying because surely Geto hasn’t ruined this for him - ruined this for you. 
“Curses, Gojo? Techniques and training and-and,” your breathing is getting erratic again, unsteady as your grip tightens around his wrists. 
“I need you to breathe.” His voice is stable as he speaks, even and calm despite the way your eyes are boring into him. Tears poke at the corners of your eyes, fighting to fall, but you blink them away and force yourself to take a breath. 
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin the life you’ve built.” He explains softly, so fucking softly, it almost makes the anger and panic and every other horrible emotion that found home in your veins slip away. 
But when you close your eyes for a second, you can feel it again. The falling, the open air, the pure fear before you hit the ground - and it has you pushing him away from you by the shoulders to stand with a teary-eyed glare. 
“That wasn’t for you to decide.” You clench your teeth to will the tears from falling, but they do anyway in streaks down your cheeks. 
“Do you think you’ll be happier now, knowing everything? Remembering everything?” 
His tone is nowhere near condescending as he asks, but it bites into you like a bullet because you just don’t know. Would seeing curses make you happier? Would knowing about your past, having your memories back be a good thing like you’d always hoped it would? 
“I need you to leave, Gojo.” It’s surprising how even your tone is, wiping away hastily at your cheeks and standing straighter. 
“C’mon, (y/n), don’t be like that-” 
“I need to think and I-I can’t. I can’t with you here, please, just go.” 
When you look up at him again, he realizes how truly worn you are. Maybe from reseeing curses, maybe from the abruptness of it all. With his mouth in a thin line, he nods and turns on his heel. 
He’ll wait for you to reach out. He can wait. For you, he can wait. 
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geto ending [ tbp ] ༝ ༝ gojo ending [ tbp ]
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