It's pr 2!!! YAAAY!! I love them.
5. When they just became close and Reader became really clingy and touchy, Alastor had to explain her that he has no-touch days. He told her that he just doesn't used to a lot of touching (but actually it was because his body hurts badly after his father's "bad days"). Reader was sad but trying really hard to understand and appreciate his boundaries.
6. When Reader was old enough to walk home from school on her own, she would sometimes go over to Alastor's house. Sometimes he would send her away because his father was at home. But sometimes she stayed to be with him and tell him everything that happened at school.
I think there was a moment when she came to his house crying. Someone bad at school told her that she was annoying, and even when she replied that she never annoys Alastor, this bully started to tell her that no she annoys him badly. So the Reader just needed to make sure she didn't annoy Alastor.
7. Alastor is much stronger than Reader, that's why he could easily lift her up. When they were children he could carry her home on his back because she fall down and her knees hurt. When they grew older he carried her home on his back or in bridal style because she walked all day on her (maybe not that big) hills and now her legs hurt. Sometimes she even fall asleep while he carried her!!
8. Not only her mama but Alastor too taught her how to cook. When the dishes that he knew how to cook ran out, because he had already taught her everything, he asked his mother to teach him something else, so that he could then surprise the Reader with it. In response, the Reader showed him recipes for sweets and even tried to learn how to cook something not so sweet that Alastor would like it.
Sry if my eng is too bad It's not my first language yeah...
Part. 2 let's dig into it!
Alastor has PTSD from his father's beating. But he still craves your touches which confuse him. Why did his body tense when you wanted to touch him although he wanted you to hug him. He tried to be strong but you felt it and asked him if he was okay. He did lie, telling you that he hurted himself sometimes when he went out hunting with his fathers and some wounds could still be painful. He never told you it hurted him, just that they might re-opened themselves. And you knew Alastor was too prideful to say to you “ I’m hurting.” so one day you went toward him with a ring that you made out of a flower. You told him that when he was hurting he had to wear the ring so you wouldn’t touch him. It was both difficult for both of you, Alastor wanted you to touch him even though his body didn’t want you to touch him. And you, you wanted to hold him but you had to hold back.
Of course, once your parents accepted that, you would run toward Alastor’s house as fast as you could without saying goodbye to your school’s friends. The first time you did, Alastor wasn’t home yet so you stayed with Marie who spoiled you. You hid yourself when Marie told you Alastor was coming. You hid behind his bedroom’s door and then jumped on his back screaming “ Welcome back”. You never saw Alastor so surprised but he quickly smiled as he teased you about how “you couldn’t stay away from him”. Of course, once you told him you would come every day he put you down and gave you the days you could come without meeting his Father. He didn’t want you to run into his father. And if one day you wanted to surprise Alastor and went to his place on an unusual day and you found yourself in front of his father… Trust me that when Alastor came back from school and saw you in the living room, sitting on the sofa with his father smoking while staring at you, he almost vomited from dread. He tugged you to his bedroom, checking if you were injured before scolding you. If you happened to cry, he would hug you but not apologize. The next day, you were surprised to see Alastor waiting for you in front of your house!
Of course Alastor is stronger than you. Since the beginning he would easily pin you on the floor or maintain you at arms length if you were being too clingy. But indeed, if you did hurt yourself and couldn’t walk he would carry you on his back, even if his wounds were still hurting. In his teens years, he would sometimes lift you in the air, loving how free you looked. You were free, but in his arms. Perfect. In his adult years? Mhn.. We will see later~
Cooking is important for Alastor, it’s sharing something he took time and care to make. He sometimes laughed at you when you couldn’t handle a spicy dish his mother gave you. But each time, you wanted to eat something new, so he would ask his mother for more dishes, even dessert if it meant seeing you smile because he cooked for you.
Don't worry dear, english isn't my mother language either ! You are doing well!
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“itadori, please respect his personal space—”
“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”
“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”
peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.
you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.
a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.
[satoru]: send nudes?
you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.
peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.
he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.
but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.
when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.
luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.
he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.
[satoru]: haha jk
[satoru]: unless…?
huffing, you quickly type back a response.
[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.
[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)
“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”
“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”
yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!
megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.
sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.
thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.
he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.
your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.
[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?
[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…
[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you
oh, that’s actually kind of—
[satoru]: nude, preferably
maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.
[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.
there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.
[satoru]: shit
[satoru]: is this a scene?
you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.
[you]: i hate you
he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.
you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.
once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—
you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.
he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.
you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.
“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”
“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”
“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.
you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”
“a nap does sound kind of nice…”
he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.
“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”
it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.
so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.
because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER
Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru
wc — 600
tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance
Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower.
If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along.
“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room.
He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point.
Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees.
“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs.
“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.”
“I deserve it.”
“Gojo.”
You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much.
He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course.
He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve.
He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time.
“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“
“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow.
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down.
“Go get the hairdryer.”
Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it.
“Are you still mad?”
“Want to take a guess?”
He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand.
“I’ll never do it again, I swear.”
“You swear?” You’re teasing.
Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.”
“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?”
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says.
“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly.
You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying.
But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention.
“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?”
“And go through this again? You kidding?”
You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away.
“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.”
He knows you too well for you to disagree.
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