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satoruslvrgrl · 3 months

Text

3:00am

WARNING: WAY TOO CLICHE!!! Angst, really really cliche, insecure and jealous Satoru, Satoru is broken, did i mention cliche?

あなたを愛していることはわかっています

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The clock struck 3:00 am.

No signs of you. Satoru sat in the living room, drinking some heavy alcohol… What’s the name? He doesn’t know, he never drinks, but he drank the whole bottle in thirty minutes. It was well-known that Satoru couldn’t handle alcohol, so why was he drinking? And why is he still sober after drinking the whole bottle? He was waiting for his wife to come back home after another night out at the bar. Everything and nothing went through his head, his thoughts consumed him whole, the thoughts of you cheating, having fun without him, enjoying another man's attention, getting drunk, dancing with other men, moaning someone else’s-

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your keys outside. Anxiety, desperation, longing, anger… Everything all at once ran through him as you opened the door.

His eyes widen in shock and disbelief once he sees your appearance. Your clothes and hair are disheveled, your make-up is smudged and ruined and your neck is full of hickeys. His fists clenched at his sides, unable to find the words as he stared at the clear evidence of your infidelity.

“S-Satoru!” You stutter out, not expecting him to be awake, considering what his job is. He marches towards you, towering over you as his voice trembles with anger.

“Who is he?” He tried so hard to keep his composure, but it was too hard when you remained silent, staring up at him with your adorable innocent eyes.

“Who is he?!” Now he’s shouting, his anger threatening to get the best of him.

“Satoru it’s no one-“ You didn’t even get to finish the sentence as he cut you off by slamming his fist on the wall behind you, silently warning you not to lie.

“Okay fine! I cheated”

…

What…?

He had already seen the evidence in your appearance, but why does it hurt so damn much when you confirmed it?

“Get out.” Is all he said, he ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to calm down, but how could that help when the love of your life just confessed their infidelity?

“Why? Are you gonna cry now?” You mock him.

His face showed all types of anger, he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you towards him

“What the fuck Y/N?!” He shouted in your face

“I’m… I’m not some weakling to cry over a… cheap whore like you!” He lied through his teeth, he had every intention of crying over you.

“Right, call me a whore, but at least I found a real man” Your voice is oddly calm and collected, despite having the strongest living soul gripping your arm and shouting in your face.

Now his face is twisted with pain and anger, the grip on your arm almost bruising, but you didn’t flinch.

“You think he’s a real man?” Who is that man?

“He’s nothing but a cheap fuck, a pathetic idiot who can’t satisfy a woman!” He continued to insult the man he never met, and never will meet.

“He satisfied me better than you”

And the world seemed to stop for God knows how many times now.

He stills, the hand that gripped your arm now trembled as he lowered it. His face crumples, and for a moment he looks like a lost little boy.

“You… you mean that?” He says softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “I thought I was enough for you”

And you snort.

“Not even close!” The fact that you were holding in your laugh messed up his brain.

He stumbled back as if you physically hit him, leaning against the wall for support as his breath came in ragged gasps “I see.” he muttered, staring at the ground “I never was.”

You had to fight the urge not to cringe at his words.

“Oh God, so dramatic” you sigh as if he had no right to be feeling this way.

Something inside of him snapped, and his anger finally boiled over. He shoves himself away from the wall, his fists once again clenched at his sides, shaking uncontrollably.

“You ungrateful bitch!” He spits “I gave you everything I could… Everything I had, and this is how you repay me?!” His words only caused you to roll your eyes.

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a woman!”

He earned yet another eye-roll. “Of course! Blame your insecurities on a woman.” You knew Satoru was insecure, so why not use it against him?

He stops, his face crumpling as your words hit him hard. He looks away, avoiding your gaze. "I am not insecure." He mutters, almost to himself. "I am... I am sorry." He finally admitted, looking back at you with tears in his eyes.

“Great, here comes the crying.” Do I have to mention an eye-roll?

His face contorts with pain and anger. He wipes his eyes angrily, trying to stop the flow of his endless tears. "You know what?" He says in a low voice. "Fuck you." He spits out. "I don't need this. I don't need you."

“Crying won’t heal your insecurities.” His face crumbles even further as your mockery cuts deep. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down his racing thoughts and shaking body.

“You think this is funny?” He asks “You think ruining me is amusing?”

“Isn't it hilarious?” You watch as his tears trickle down his cheeks like a waterfall.

His body begins to shake with sobs, tears stream down his face as he gasps for breath. "I hate you!" He cries out, his fists clenched at his sides. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" He repeated like a broken record. He sinks to his knees, still sobbing uncontrollably.

“I hate…”

…

What’s happening?

He thought to himself as he felt soft kisses on his face. His eyes snap open as he realized it was all a nightmare caused by his insecurities. He looked up at his wife, she wore one of his shirts, her hair was disheveled only because she had a peaceful sleep, her face was clean and her neck was adorned with a necklace he bought her ever since they were teenagers, the necklace she never took off since.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

this is embarrassingly cringe and cliche, I’m begging for no judging! I’m just gonna use an excuse that the last time I wrote a ff was around 3-4 years ago. Feels good to be back but cmon, this is really cliche. But anyway have a nice day<3🫧

~Lia🫧

#jjk #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo angst #gojo x reader #gojo satoru

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satoruslvrgrl · 3 months

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one and only fic that still has me locked in ngl

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)

satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.

it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.

“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.

you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.

“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.

“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”

this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.

satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.

“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”

“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”

your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.

“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.

you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.

instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.

“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”

“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”

“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”

for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.

but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.

he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.

it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.

they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.

not if it’s him.

“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”

“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”

“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”

“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”

“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.

“satoru—”

“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”

“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.

“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.

“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”

“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”

“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”

“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”

“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.

his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.

“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”

“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“

“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.

“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”

“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”

“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”

“we’ll see,” he hums.

your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.

and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.

he’s my liddol sourpatch :(

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #im crying #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst

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