#Infinity Land Press

[rjdent]

I've just finished editing my modern English translation of Antonin Artaud's The Monk, published in August/September 2024 by Infinity Land Press.

Currently, book details are scarce as it's in production, but this is what's available so far:

[halo--hall]

some light reading today

[shegetsburned]

Uhm hi 👋🏻 could you please write something about Gojo, Nanami, Geto and Toji's reactions to their significant other's life being threatened? Like heartbreaking stuff that ends up well? 👉🏻👈🏻

LOSING YOU w. jujutsu kaisen men ˚ 𐙚 ⋆.

.angst/fluff.

• — ft. satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto, toji fushiguro. took me ages to get to but i’m a sucker for angst, so i just had to do it. thanks for the request, luv! • — content. their reaction to your life being threatened. • — tw. mentions of death, violence, murder.

satoru gojo

₊˚⊹ ᰔ as soon as your name came out of yaga’s mouth, satoru wasted no time and vanished. he searched every place he knew, every corner and alley, in a matter of seconds. there was no coherent thought in his mind while he teleported. the only thing he could clearly see was you. that you were in danger and that you needed to be saved. that he couldn’t let you die and that he previously had so clearly promised that he’d never let anything happen to either you or him.

a liar, he thought he was. how could he have let this happen? what was the point of being the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t even protect you. he really did believe nothing could happen to you if he was by your side. he’d murder anyone who’d ever try to harm you without even looking back. this time wouldn’t be any different.

he felt his heartbeat reach his ears when he finally felt you near an ally, back pressed against the wall. a hand on your chest, crimson blood dripping down your shirt. jerky breaths escaping your trembling lips. this curse had taken his sweet time with you. it wanted to feed and you were a tasty dinner. there were marks of struggle on your shredded clothes and bruised wrists.

nothing came out of satoru’s mouth when his eyes landed on you. he just couldn’t believe he had let this happen to you. his expression was stoic. when he slowly approached you the curse immediately felt it. the strongest sorcerer doesn’t let most curses escape from his grasp. but this one.. this one would inevitably suffer the most.

it wasn’t long before the curse felt his body being pushed against the wall in front of you. a yelp was heard when his skull hit the wall head-on. you could hear the bones crack and send shivers through your entire being. that’s when you realized your boyfriend had finally arrived. but when you lifted your head trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes he had already turned all his attention towards the threat.

you had never seen him like this. he was lifeless. his eyebrows were lowered and pulled closer together. you could’ve sworn his eyes bulged. he was enraged. he didn’t even bother to raise his arm towards the curse, he just advanced and slowly- very slowly crushed every little bone in the monster’s body.

you were out of breath but couldn’t shift your gaze from the horrible spectacle in front of you. the wall caved under the pressure as gojo used his infinity to create a space between him and the curse which only crushed it more. it was cruel. cruel but deserving considering the circumstances.

the curse’s body was retracting upon itself with no way out. a loud and piercing cry followed the sound of the wall being crushed under the weight of the infinity. the only thing you found the strength to mumble under your breath was your boyfriend’s name.

after a few seconds, black smoke emanated from the crushed bricked wall with no curses in sight. no remains, nothing. your heavy breath filled the air as satoru finally sighted. you could barely see his eyes when he turned to you, crouching down at your height.

his violence had surprised you, but you were so relieved. tears ran down your cheeks when you tried to speak. you tried to reach for satoru when he crouched but he was quicker and wrapped one arm around your back and another supporting the back of your head. he held you close and it made you feel at home. his scent and touch reassured you when you buried your head in his neck.

still silent, he held you tightly close to his chest. his hand threaded your hair, a slight pressure applied so he could make sure you were okay. you could feel all his anger slowly fade when you returned the gesture with one hand against his chest. your tears slowly fading as you felt the warmth of satoru around your body.

“satoru..”

he shushed you. always pulling you closer and closer to him. he wasn’t going to leave this time. he’d never let you endure something like this ever again.

“i’m right here. you’re safe. lend me your pain, baby. i’ll carry you the rest of the way.” he whispered into your ear, caressing your back so that you’d warm up to his touch. you could feel he was slowly coming back to being the satoru you knew.

you were safe in his arms but guilt still ran deep inside of him. he promised to take you to shoko as soon as possible, resting by your side until you were completely healthy. he also promised himself to assign you with an escort when he couldn’t be here to protect you.

satoru’s only concern was you and he’d never let anything get in the way of your well-being ever again. if he had to show every curse on this earth that he’d destroy them if they ever tried to get near you, he’d have no hesitation in doing so. you were safe. you knew it, now.

kento nanami

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you were the most important person for nanami. his one and only. his love, his soul, his heart. he would’ve resigned in an instant if you hadn’t begged him to keep his job as a sorcerer. but knowing his personal feelings about loss, you knew it’d break him if something came to happen to you. that is precisely why you always acted cautiously, never putting yourself in harm's way and living your life as safely as you could. unfortunately, this time, your efforts had been in vain.

when he saw you, helplessly struggling at the mercy of a first-grade curse wrapped around your throat, all he could think about was how much he regretted not having taken a safer job and bought you that house you both talked about so much on a beach in malaysia.

he knew he needed to act quickly or the curse would finish you off as easily as it had taken you hostage.

you wiggled your feet when it lifted you off the ground, hands desperately scratching and holding onto his grasp so he’d let go of his claws around your throat. you could feel kento’s eyes on you but couldn’t even dare to look at him or do anything else than push against the claws so they wouldn’t crush your neck further.

therefore, you couldn’t see him remove his tie, wrapping it tightly around his knuckles. he knew he couldn’t use a weapon, scared that the curse would use you as a shield. his fists were more precise and his sword wasn’t enough to unleash the rage he had built up inside.

he slowly made his way to the curse but, with every step, its hold crushed you more. you were so scared, almost out of breath with tears rolling down your cheeks. these cheeks kento had kissed so many times to take away your pain. you were hoping he’d do it once more.

once he realized that the threatening stance he was in only alarmed the curse, kento stood down, lowering his curse energy’s flow to an almost invisible state. he made himself look harmless in the face of the monster which slowly but surely helped you to breathe better.

you knew your husband. you had heard it several times from yuji and Ino and you also personally knew that he always handled things the right way. this is was kept you from breaking down and letting go of your almost meaningless fight against the curse’s strength. you had never doubted him and you wouldn’t now. he built his strength with yours. that’s what kento had told you the day he had asked for your hand.

his eyes were locked with your struggling gaze. despite him trying to contain himself, his veins stood out from how tightly he clenched his fists. he would’ve massacred the curse right here and now if it hadn’t cowardly taken you hostage. nanami might have seemed harmless in the moment but his anger was apparent.

without thinking much about it, he threw his sword aside, lifting his hands above to show complete surrender to the curse.

“let her go.”

the furious and deep voice of your husband made you whine, finally hearing a sign from him. unfortunately you could feel that the curse was still hesitating. the clinging of the sword on the ground had startled it which only showed kento how weak it really was. it also showed that it did not want to fight but preferred to flee.

this strange demeanor encouraged kento to step closer, hands still in the air, and that’s when he saw his opening. the curse was looking left and right to find an escape which diminished his attention and loosened his grip around your throat. it lasted just a few seconds but it was enough for you to breathe out his name.

“kento..”

that’s when he drew his fist and used all of his force and cursed energy to deliver a devastating blow right into the curse spirit’s face. it was sent flying several meters away after dropping you so kento could easily catch you and keep you from hitting the ground, arms wrapped around your body.

it only took one hit. one punch to obliterate half of the curse’s body in pieces. the shock had been so violent that your savior’s knuckles bled on your shirt through his yellow tie.

“mine.”

you could feel his heavy breath against your neck when he got on one knee, holding you against him, a hand carefully placed on your cheek. his thumb caressing your skin and whipping the single tear you shed.

“my love..”

kento’s expression had returned to the one you knew. the calm but stoic gaze he wore returned your breath to a normal pace. his arms pulled you always closer to him and he felt his sense come back when your fingers brushed the hand he had placed on your shoulder. you couldn’t talk or you’d burst into tears so you smiled in admiration.

he placed his warm lips upon your forehead and you could feel how scared he had been, maybe even more scared than you. his eyes were stuck on your finger, the one that wore his ring.

losing haibara had crushed his soul to tiny little pieces and you had been the one to delicately put them all back together with your innocent kindness and understanding. he’d be damned if he was to let something happen to the one who saved his heart.

this was the first and last time your life had been threatened, thanks to the careful supervision of kento but also his promise to quit his job and buy that house. he hadn’t realized how much he already had with you and would curse anybody who tried to take his happiness away from him ever again.

suguru geto

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you trusted him. you trusted that, if you were in pain, suguru would find ways to eradicate that pain. you trusted that if you showed any sign of distress, he’d be by your side helping you in any way he could. most importantly, you trusted that he’d protect you no matter the cost and no matter the consequences, because he was devoted to you. if there was something he’d burn the whole world for, it’d be you.

these men, these humans, these pathetic monkeys that had attacked you on your way home never knew what would come for them. you were beaten and almost lifeless when the men started searching for any kind of money or jewelry you had on your person. of course, you had resisted. that’s the only thing you could do, because you were so scared that if you had willingly complied to their demand they would’ve asked for more.

being helpless was scary. you thought it wouldn’t be so scary with suguru by your side, but right now you had never been more terrified. you also knew that your boyfriend would never forgive the men that harmed you, so the only thing you could do was wait. because you did not doubt him. you never doubted him. you knew he’d come for you.

when the men had finished checking your bags and any belongings you had on your person, one approached you, lifting your chin with a vulgar smile. you couldn’t even look at him in the eyes but hit bullseye when you spat directly in his face making him drop you in anger. he cursed under his breath before tightly grabbing you by the collar. a hand in the air so it’d land on your face.

with a weak and desperate groan you turned your face away but was surprised when the slap never landed.

when you reopened your eyes to look at your aggressor, he had his own hands wrapped his throat. it’s like he was struggling to breath, a firm pressure was crushing his neck as he tried to break free from this invisible hold.

when you realized what might be happening you tried to take a peak at the other men who were all struggling with the same problem. scratching and screaming at the invisible menace that were preventing them from breathing.

under the distressed shoutings, a cocky laugh attracted your gaze. when you turned to look at the source, your face lit up at the sight of suguru. but he didn’t look as relieved as you were. his laugh was dark, almost cynical. it was psychotic and displeased.

you had seen him despise simple-minded humans before but killing them was a different story. he wasn’t only taking their lives, he was torturing them. their necks were getting slowly squashed by the curses he had sent on them.

seeing you struggle to breath, helpless at the hand of those who had harmed an innocent girl like you. his girl. it had awaken another kind of hatred in him. a hatred that had been buried deep for so long.

suguru took one good look at you, searching for your eyes but you were incapable of keeping them open. you were just glad your boyfriend had arrived. you knew you were safe when you rested your eyes, a small smile of satisfaction drawn on your lips.

when he concentrated his gaze back on the man that had touched you, he crouched in front of him, getting to his level before taking over the curse and wrapping his hand around the stranger’s neck. tormenting him and taking the air away from him. suguru tightened his grip, his smile fading when he brought the man closer and closer towards death.

“so you think you can just harm her and get away with it?”

the man was hissing swears as small cries of help escaped his bloody lips. his face was swollen and breaking down under suguru’s hold and his watering eyes looked like they would pop out of their socket sooner or later. that’s how tight he held the man.

“pathetic.”

he fed on their cries. helplessly calling out for help, the men only fueled his rage with their insufferable sounds. the sorcerer remembered every time he had felt an ounce of empathy for these beings in the past and regretted every actions he had done to protect them when he saw your wounded state. what they had done was inexcusable and no amount of pain would be enough to atone for it.

after a while, resigned, your offender chocked out a weak apology. but as he did, all the bones in his body instantly broke under another a new kind of pressure coming from yet another curse suguru had unleashed upon him. so now he laid there, between your boyfriend’s compressed clutch. dead.

after a few seconds he dropped the body on the ground like garbage waste and walked to you, passing by the other men that were struggling to breath. he pushed the first one aside with his foot, throwing one on the ground, creating a path for him to walk to you.

“move. i’ve come to take what’s mine.”

on suguru’s command, two snaps followed when the curses broke the other men’s necks before they fell on the floor. three lifeless corpses were now scattered in front of both of you, and as soon as he made sure those stupide monkeys had payed for what they had done, he joined you.

when he leaned towards you, his hand grazed yours, wrapping it with his own in a warm grip. his eyes searched for yours, lifting your chin with his thumb before running it along your jaw, making comforting circles on your cheek.

“are you alright, my love? can you walk?”

suguru’s tone was calmer than before. his eyes never left yours when he wiped one of your tears. his comforting smile reassured you and you nodded at his question, holding onto his wrist when he helped you up, closing the distance between the two of you.

you could hear his calm heartbeat when you leaned against his chest, hiding between his arms and you wondered how he could be so tranquil after killing these men so easily. little did you know the only thing he felt was rage. he knew he was right to despise these inferior beings that had harmed the only important thing that mattered.

he could’ve burned the world for you.

toji fushiguro

₊˚⊹ ᰔ toji fushiguro was an asshole. a first-class asshole. you guys had slept together left and right and he always left first. you had no expectations regarding the man. no doubt that you were replaceable. he didn’t open up much and never talked about his work which didn’t alarm you much considering toji’s character.

basically, emotionally and personally speaking, you two weren’t close. that’s why, when two strangers raided your apartment, screaming fushiguro’s name in anger, you wondered why you had accepted to sleep with a man with a secret and violent past.

your furniture was on the floor and the men had destroyed most of your electronics so you had no way to call for help. one was guarding the door while the other took care of questioning you. it had something to do with a bet and broken promises. of course, money had to be involved, otherwise, why would they be threatening the girl he had slept with once or twice to know of his whereabouts?

tied to a chair, almost unconscious, he had been covering you with bruises and scratches using anything that he could find but you still gave him the same answer. you had no idea where toji was as he never kept contact with you. he was always the one that came to you. and if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t expect him to come save you anytime soon.

after a while, when the man realized he might not easily get an answer out of you, he reached in his back, pulling out a pistol from the edge of his pants. at the sight of the gun, your heart shattered. that was it for you, you thought. you couldn’t get out of this mess and you would die convinced toji was out there somewhere, probably getting rich and fucking naive girls like you.

you couldn’t even talk anymore, your head was hanging in front of you, blood dripping from your mouth to your thighs. you didn’t know if you’d last long, your vision was blurry and you felt yourself chasing the dark tunnel that clouded your eyesight.

you could hear faint words of command when your chin was lifted with the cold metallic canon of the pistol. the man had your life between his hands. you knew he’d pull the trigger if he eventually realized you couldn’t give him any information he needed. you knew he would kill you. it was so easy and you were pissing him off.

your eyes never left his nervous figure which only frustrated him more and, out of instinct, he slapped you with the handle of the pistol, almost knocking the air out of you. your jaw was broken and tears were flooding your eyes when the blow forced you to look away.

but as he pulled his arm up, preparing for another strike, he seemed to stop in his movement, startled by something behind him. sounds of struggles and a broken door were heard when he shifted his gaze entirely towards the front of your apartment. his accomplice had disappeared which alerted the man and made him call out to him.

several seconds and unanswered calls later, on his guard, the armed stranger decided to go take a look. as soon as he took a step towards the broken piece of wood that was left, a corpse dropped to his feet.

it was the other man, and he seemed to have been brutally murdered from the back, a hole at his heart’s level revealed the level of violence he had endured which left the man panicked and distressed. sweat was covering his forehead when he tried to peak out the door, fingers trembling against the handle and trigger.

unfortunately for him, a tall and broad shadow quickly covered him, before a shot came off. one single gunshot followed by a loud thud.

you could barely make up the identity of the person who had saved you with your weak sight, but his odour was enough for you to distinguish the man clearly. he always smelled the same.

toji was here. he was standing in the doorway, a tight grip around his gun and a grin covering his scarred lips. “can’t believe they send these weaklings to come after me.”

he carefully stepped between the cadavers, examining the poor state of your apartment and their lifeless bodies before his gaze shifted to you. a quick exchange was enough for you to sigh in relief and let yourself relax to an unconscious state.

despite himself, he did feel an ounce of guilt when he took a good look at you. his mistakes had almost gotten you killed. he couldn’t have imagined how he would’ve felt if he had arrived too late. the blood on your face, the broken jaw and the many scars were revealed by the moonlight passing through the door. the cold air misplaced your hair for toji to see tears strolling down your face.

his grin faded as he stood still in front of you and the mess he had made. his grip had loosened around the gun but he slowly moved the canon towards the second man he had killed. without hesitation, he emptied his clip through the culprit’s head, a look of contempt and disgust plastered on his face.

“tsk.. you just had to go and get yourself noticed, hm?” he said, now focused only on you.

thanks to toji, you were safe now. and you had silently thanked him for coming back for you.

carrying you bridal style as you laid there now unconscious but safe in his arms, he placed his thumb against your jaw, tilting your head to get a proper look at you. even now, you were so beautifully calm and your cheeks wore a pink tint, probably because of the cold, which only accentuated your beauty and innocence.

with a sigh, like it weighed on his conscience, toji murmured. “guess someone’s gonna have to take care of you, from now on.”

but the truth was far from what it appeared to be. saving you that night had just brought the man closer to the conclusion that he cherished you more than he thought he did. you weighed on his conscience like a guilty obsession which he could only nourish by spending more time by your side.

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[reignpage]

Finders Keepers

Summary: in which alien!reader crash lands right in front of Gojo and your story with him begins Word Count: 1k (just trialing a new concept so it's a quick opening) Warnings: a little cursing, allusions to experimentation and alien warfare, reader is naked but not in a sexual manner

“I can’t believe aliens actually exist,” Satoru mutters to himself. 

This has been an incredibly wild evening. 

When he stepped out of his apartment to throw the bins out, he hadn’t expected to see a blinding flash of light zoom past him and explode in the parking lot. Thank goodness for his infinity, otherwise he would not have fared as well as the minivan you landed on. 

Yes. 

You.

The woman who came straight from the sky and fell on top of a car, missing him by just two metres.

At first, he thought it was a curse; these things get pretty weird sometimes, after all. But using his Six Eyes, he could tell you were different. Sure, you looked like any other person, with arms and legs and a head. But you had a unique aura to you, positively otherworldly. 

If he was any other kind of man, he would have just left you there and pretended nothing happened — ignorance is bliss and whatnot — but what kind of Honoured One would he be if he didn’t do his duty and helped you out?

So, he slides down the massive crater you made (boy is that going to be a pain for maintenance to clean up) and carefully cradles your naked body in his arms, carefully so as to not touch bits and pieces no gentleman has a business looking at. Why are you naked anyways? 

Sensing people making their way down the stairs to inspect the commotion, he teleports back into his apartment quick as a flash before anyone could think to look through their windows. 

He throws a blanket at you and leaves you on the sofa as he paces the length of his living room and ponders what to do. On one hand, he could call the police and leave it up to them to deal with you. The government would know best about how to deal about falling space women, right? But then, don’t all the sci-fi movies talk about inhumane experimentation, weaponizing alien technology, and Area 51? 

That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do, at all. 

And on the other hand, he could just take care of you himself. He has the means to, that’s for sure. You really don’t look any different from everyone else — surely, you need the same things he does: food, water, shelter and warmth.

Right?

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone to call his doctor friend, you begin rousing from sleep. Your eyes flutter open and they’re a normal colour, which freaks him out more if he’s going to be perfectly honest. 

“Uh,” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, shuffling on his feet a little, “hey? I’m Gojo Satoru. You can just call me Satoru, though. If you want, or can, I guess.”

You tilt your head, scanning his body, and you open your mouth. What comes out is definitely an alien language. Or maybe he needs to travel more. But he certainly does not comprehend a single thing that you say. 

Clearing his throat, he tries to smile comfortingly. “Okay, so I didn’t understand what you said. Sorry. But uh, do you need anything? Like, do you know where you are? Yeah, you definitely don’t know what I’m saying either, do you?”

You tilt your head again. 

“What is wrong with me? Seriously. What was I thinking bringing you home? You may have fallen from the sky but I’m the one that clearly hit my head. I really am an idiot.”

Glancing around the room, you don’t look any bit as frazzled and panicked as he is. Actually, you’re as cool as a cucumber, and there isn’t a hint of shame or embarrassment on your face when you push yourself off the sofa, blanket sliding down your body. 

“Woah! Woah!”

Satoru presses his hands to his eyes and leaves them there for a second or two before realising that does absolutely nothing and when he pulls them down, he doesn’t flinch when you’re standing before him, inquisitive eyes meeting his. 

His infinity is on and he’s ready to subdue you if you prove to be a threat, but so far, he’s simply letting you reorient yourself, getting used to your surroundings and giving you the opportunity to decide he’s not a bad guy. 

That being said, however, he’s still deciding whether to keep you or not. He doesn’t want you to be poked and prodded — that wouldn’t be a very cool welcome to planet Earth and he doesn’t need you to go around telling your alien friends humans suck, though they do. But he also doesn’t know if that’s the best decision. 

You could be a danger to jujitsu society, to his students, to the world. What if, right at this very moment, you’re leaking deadly radiation? And what if his infinity can’t keep it out? Can’t keep you out?

Gosh, there are so many things that could go wrong. 

It’s entirely possible too that you’re a blood sucking monster intent on wringing him dry for all he’s worth. Maybe you’re not even an alien. Maybe you’re a special kind of curse, the kind that can bypass his Six Eyes, though he’s fairly confident that’s not the case (there’s no one stronger than him, after all). 

What if this is Kenjaku all over again?

Yeah, on second thought, he should definitely call the police. Or Ijichi, or the Prime Minister of Japan, or whoever will believe him when he says there’s a naked, alien lady in his home, and no, he’s not a pervert playing out some sick fantasy.

But just as he’s lifting his phone, you lift your hand the same time he does and cover your eyes. 

Then you say his name in perfect Japanese with a sweet, soft voice, not a hint of hesitation or unsteadiness. You smile, eyes still obscured, and he feels himself mirroring your gleeful expression. 

“That’s right. I’m Satoru. It’s nice to meet you.”

He decides, there and then, to hell with radiation, alien armies, and the deadly risk you pose to everything he knows or cares about. The military, conspiracy theorists, and scientists be damned.

He’s going to keep you. 

[s4kura-tr3]

Could you write jjk men (Nanami, Gojo and Geto) w/a masked fem!reader?

She got big scars around her face due to an accident from childhood and haven’t showed her face ever since..

how would the men react if the somehow saw her face for the first time? (You can choose how)

Satoru Gojo — It was late at night, the two of you lounging comfortably in the living room after a long day. Gojo’s infinity was off, and his blindfold hung loosely around his neck. You were in your favorite hoodie, but your usual bandage was missing, your scar unexpectedly exposed.

Gojo had come back into the room with a snack in hand, but the moment his eyes landed on your face, he froze. His vibrant blue eyes widened slightly, taking in the mark you had always hidden. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and you could feel your stomach tighten with anxiety.

“Gojo…” you started nervously, your hands instinctively going up to cover your face, but he was faster.

In an instant, he was crouched in front of you, his hands gently but firmly cupping your cheeks to stop you from hiding.

“So… this is the scar you’ve been hiding from me?” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, feeling small under the weight of his attention. “Yeah… I know it’s not—”

“Beautiful,” he interrupted, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “It’s beautiful.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m Gojo Satoru. I always tell the truth,” he teased lightly, his tone gentle. “And besides, this scar is part of you. And I happen to be head over heels for all of you.”

His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, his expression uncharacteristically serious for a moment. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Ever. Got it?”

You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small laugh. “Got it.”

His grin returned, bright and mischievous as ever. “Good. Now, can I say something cheesy without you laughing at me?”

“Depends,” you said, smiling despite yourself.

He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours. “I think scars are kind of badass. And yours makes you even more perfect to me.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laugh. But it wasn’t because of him—it was because, somehow, he always knew just what to say to make you feel loved.

Suguru Geto — The quiet hum of the rain outside filled the room as you sat cross-legged on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through a book. Geto sat nearby, his long hair loosely tied back, sipping tea as he enjoyed the serene moment with you.

You hadn’t realized it at first, but in your haste to get comfortable, you had forgotten to rewrap the bandage around your eyes after your shower. The scar—hidden for so long—was now exposed.

“Hey,” Geto’s smooth voice called softly, pulling you from your thoughts.

You looked up to find his dark eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable but calm. It only took a second for you to realize what he was staring at. Your breath caught in your throat as your hand instinctively flew up to cover the scar.

“Wait,” he said gently, setting his tea down as he shifted closer. His voice held no judgment, only a quiet curiosity. “Don’t hide it.”

“I just…” You hesitated, lowering your gaze. “I didn’t mean for you to see it.”

“Why not?” His tone was soft but firm, the question laced with genuine concern.

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s… ugly. I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”

There was a pause, and then you felt his hand wrap around yours, gently pulling it away from your face. You finally looked up, and the tenderness in his expression nearly undid you.

“Ugly?” he repeated, almost incredulously, as his thumb lightly brushed over the scar. “Who told you that nonsense?”

You swallowed hard. “It’s just… how I’ve always felt about it.”

He let out a soft sigh, his lips curling into a faint, affectionate smile. “You’ve been hiding this from me the whole time?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “I was scared you’d see it and…”

“And what? Stop loving you?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, but there was a seriousness in his gaze. He leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “That’s not going to happen. Ever.”

You blinked back tears as his hand moved to cradle your face. “Scars tell stories,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “And yours is part of what makes you who you are. How could I ever see that as anything but beautiful?”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s a talent of mine.” Then his expression softened even more. “You don’t have to hide from me, ever. You’re safe with me. Always.”

In that moment, as he pulled you into a gentle hug, you realized he wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them with every fiber of his being.

Nanami kento — You had fallen asleep on the couch after a long day. Nanami had stayed up late working in the study but eventually made his way to the living room. When he saw you, sprawled out and peaceful, his lips curved into a faint smile.

He moved closer to drape a blanket over you, but as he leaned down, his sharp eyes caught something he hadn’t seen before. The bandage you always wore around your eyes had slipped off in your sleep, revealing the scar hidden beneath.

Nanami paused, his breath catching slightly as he took in the sight. He crouched beside you, his expression unreadable as his fingers lightly brushed the edge of the fallen bandage on the couch.

The gentle shift of his weight must have stirred you, because you blinked awake, squinting up at him.

“Kento?” you mumbled groggily, sitting up and instinctively touching your face. When you felt the absence of the bandage, your eyes widened in panic. “Oh no…”

You immediately turned your head away, trying to cover the scar with your hand. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

Nanami didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he reached out, his hand firm but gentle as he took hold of yours and pulled it away from your face.

“Why do you hide this?” he asked softly, his gaze meeting yours.

You bit your lip, tears pricking your eyes. “Because it’s… hideous. I didn’t want you to see it and think less of me.”

Nanami’s brows furrowed deeply, not in anger but in something closer to frustration—frustration that you’d ever feel the need to hide. “Do you really believe I would think that?” His voice was steady, but there was a rare edge of emotion in it.

“I didn’t know how you’d react,” you admitted quietly.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as his other hand cupped your cheek. “You should know me better than that by now,” he said gently. His thumb hovered just above the scar, his touch careful, almost reverent.

“This doesn’t change how I see you,” he continued. “If anything, it makes me admire you even more. You’ve carried this quietly, and I’m sorry you felt like you had to.”

Your chest tightened, tears spilling over before you could stop them. “I was just scared.”

Nanami leaned in, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. “You don’t need to be. Not with me. I love all of you—the parts you show and the parts you hide. Don’t forget that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your tears. “You’re too perfect, you know that?”

He gave a small, rare smile, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m not perfect. But I’ll always make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

In that moment, with his arms wrapped securely around you, you knew he meant every word.

Toji fushiguro — The late-night silence in your apartment was broken only by the clinking of weights as Toji worked out in the corner. You were in the bathroom, carefully rewrapping the bandage around your eyes, as you always did. But tonight, you were tired, your hands unsteady.

The scar you’d hidden for so long was exposed, and you didn’t notice when Toji appeared in the doorway, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“Forgot to cover up, huh?” his deep voice rumbled, startling you.

You spun around, your heart racing as you instinctively raised your hand to cover your face. “Toji! I—it’s nothing, just—”

“Cut it out,” he interrupted, his tone casual but firm as he stepped closer. “Let me see.”

You hesitated, torn between trust and fear. “Toji, it’s… ugly. You don’t want to see this.”

He smirked, leaning against the doorframe, his sharp green eyes narrowing slightly. “Ugly, huh? Lemme be the judge of that.”

Before you could protest, he reached out, his calloused hand gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away. His gaze flicked to the scar, studying it with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the silence felt heavy, and you braced yourself for his reaction.

“…That’s it?” he said finally, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean, that’s it?”

He let out a low chuckle, releasing your wrist. “You’ve been hiding this like it’s some big deal. It’s just a scar, babe. What, you think I’d care?”

You felt your cheeks heat, frustration bubbling up. “It’s not just a scar! It’s… it’s a part of my face. People stare, they judge—”

“Yeah, and those people are idiots,” he cut in, his tone blunt but oddly reassuring. He stepped closer, towering over you, his gaze softening just a bit. “Scars mean you’ve been through shit and came out alive. I respect that.”

Your breath hitched, his unexpected sincerity catching you off guard. “You really don’t mind?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Mind? If anything, it makes you look tougher. Kinda hot, actually.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, a mix of relief and disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he teased, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, avoiding the scar. His grin faded slightly, replaced by a rare moment of seriousness. “Don’t hide from me, alright? I don’t care what you look like. You’re mine, scars and all.”

You nodded, your heart swelling at his words. “Okay.”

He leaned down, pressing a rough, fleeting kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Good. Now, quit worrying about stupid shit and come help me pick a movie.”

As he walked off, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter than you had in years. Toji’s way with words might not be elegant, but his unflinching loyalty made you feel more loved than ever.

Sukuna ryomen — The lavish chambers of Ryomen Sukuna’s palace were bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight. You sat nervously on a silk cushion near the corner of the room, fingers trembling as you fumbled with the bandage covering the scar on your cheek. It was your first night as his concubine, a position that brought both honor and fear.

You hadn’t even heard him enter the room, his movements silent as a predator’s.

“Why are you hiding your face?” Sukuna’s voice rumbled behind you, low and commanding.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. Turning your head slightly, you saw him standing a few paces away, his four arms crossed and his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“I… it’s nothing, my lord,” you stammered, your hands moving instinctively to adjust the bandage.

In two strides, Sukuna closed the distance between you. He crouched before you, his presence overwhelming as he grabbed your wrist with one of his hands, stopping you mid-motion.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his tone sharp but not cruel. “Show me.”

“My lord, it’s not something you wish to see,” you protested, your voice trembling. “It’s… unsightly.”

His eyes narrowed, his grip tightening just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to silence any further objection. With another hand, he reached up and pulled the bandage away, revealing the scar you had hidden for years.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on the mark, his expression unreadable as he studied it. You held your breath, bracing yourself for ridicule or disgust.

But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm and tinged with amusement. “You think this is worth hiding?”

You blinked, startled. “It’s… ugly,” you murmured, lowering your gaze.

Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Ugly? Foolish woman.” He tilted your chin upward with one of his hands, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. “This scar tells me more about you than words ever could. It’s a mark of survival—a sign of strength. Why would I find that displeasing?”

Your eyes widened, his words catching you off guard. “You don’t… mind?”

“Mind?” His lips curled into a wicked grin. “If I cared about appearances alone, you wouldn’t be here. You’ve caught my interest for reasons far beyond your looks, though those aren’t lacking either.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt words, and Sukuna leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’ve faced something that left its mark. That’s far more intriguing than someone untouched by hardship.”

He released your chin but didn’t step back, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Let this be the last time you try to hide anything from me. You’re mine now, scars and all. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he said, standing to his full height. He tossed the bandage aside and smirked down at you. “If anyone dares to insult you, I’ll make an example of them. You belong to me now, and no one questions what’s mine.”

As he turned to leave, the weight of his words settled over you. Sukuna’s love—or whatever his version of affection was—might be as sharp and merciless as a blade, but in his own way, he had claimed every part of you, even the ones you’d long hidden away.

Megumi fushiguro —The rain pattered softly against the windows of the quiet apartment you and Megumi shared. It was late, and the two of you were relaxing after a long day. He was sitting on the couch, a book in hand, while you were in the bathroom, meticulously reapplying the bandage over the scar on your cheek.

You hadn’t told him about it yet—not because you didn’t trust him, but because the scar was a part of your past you weren’t ready to share. But tonight, your hands slipped, and the sound of the bandage falling to the floor startled you.

“Everything okay in there?” Megumi called from the living room, his voice calm but curious.

“Y-yeah,” you replied quickly, scrambling to pick up the bandage.

But when you stepped out, your face uncovered, Megumi’s sharp eyes immediately noticed. His book lowered slightly as his gaze focused on you, the scar catching his attention.

You froze in the doorway, your instinct to hide kicking in. “I… forgot to put the bandage back on,” you muttered, turning your head away.

“Hey,” he said gently, setting the book down and standing up. He approached you slowly, his expression unreadable but not harsh. “You don’t have to hide it.”

“It’s not something I want you to see,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze. “It’s ugly.”

Megumi frowned, a flicker of irritation crossing his face—not at you, but at the thought of you believing such a thing. “That’s not true,” he said firmly, his voice quiet but resolute.

You glanced up at him, surprised. “It’s a scar, Megumi. People stare. They judge.”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently tilt your chin so you couldn’t look away. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, but his eyes were steady as they studied the scar.

“People can be stupid,” he said bluntly, his tone carrying a hint of dry humor. “But I’m not ‘people.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, though it was shaky. “You’re really okay with it?”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile—the kind he didn’t give often, but always meant. “It’s part of you,” he said simply. “And I like you for who you are. Not for some idea of perfection you think you need to be.”

Your heart swelled at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. “Megumi…”

He sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, okay? I mean it.”

You nodded, finally allowing yourself to relax. “Thank you.”

He gave a slight shrug, his typical understated way of brushing off the weight of the moment. “It’s nothing,” he said, though his gaze lingered on you a little longer, his concern evident in the softness of his expression.

As you both settled back into the living room, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound sense of comfort. Megumi’s quiet strength and unwavering acceptance reminded you why you’d fallen for him in the first place.

Yuji itadori — The day had been long, full of missions and meetings, and when you finally returned home, all you wanted was to relax. Yuji was in the kitchen, humming to himself as he worked on preparing dinner. You smiled to yourself, watching him in the doorway for a moment before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

But just as you stepped in front of the mirror, reaching for your bandage to cover your scar, you didn’t realize that the window was slightly ajar—until a gust of wind blew through, knocking the bandage off the counter and sending it tumbling toward the ground. You leaned down to grab it, but as you straightened up, you heard the soft creak of the bathroom door opening.

“Hey, are you—whoa,” Yuji’s voice broke off, followed by the sound of him quickly stepping back.

You froze, your heart sinking. You hadn’t meant for him to see.

“Yuji, don’t—”

But he was already standing there, his gaze fixed on your face, the scar exposed for the first time. He blinked, his mouth slightly open as he processed the sight. You could feel your cheeks heat up, the vulnerability of the moment overwhelming.

“Why… why didn’t you ever tell me?” Yuji asked softly, his voice full of genuine confusion rather than judgment.

You quickly turned away, your fingers trembling as you reached to grab the bandage. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s just a stupid scar. I didn’t want you to see it, okay?”

Yuji took a few steps forward, his footsteps slow and deliberate. “I don’t get it.” He gently stopped you from putting the bandage back on, his hand lightly brushing against yours. “What’s so bad about it?”

You swallowed hard, still avoiding his gaze. “It’s a part of me I’m not proud of,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t want you to see it because I didn’t think you’d like it. Or me.”

He was silent for a moment, and you almost wished he would say something, anything, to break the tension. But then, when he spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“You think I’d stop liking you because of a scar?” Yuji asked, his words almost gentle. “That’s ridiculous.”

You finally looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes. “But it’s not just any scar, Yuji. It’s something I carry with me. A reminder of…” You trailed off, not sure how to explain.

Yuji stepped closer, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over the scar as if he was trying to understand it. “A reminder of what?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent.

You took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “Of everything I’ve been through. The stuff I wish I could forget.”

His expression softened even further, his grip on your cheek tender as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You’re still you, scars and all,” he said softly into your ear. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, okay? I’m not going anywhere because of a scar. You’re perfect to me just the way you are.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let out a shaky breath, finally allowing yourself to relax in his arms. “You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” he replied, his voice full of warmth. “Scars tell stories. And yours? It’s part of your story, and that’s important to me.”

You smiled softly, feeling the weight of the secret you’d kept for so long lift from your shoulders. “Thank you, Yuji.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “Now, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure you need to eat too, with all the emotions and stuff going on.”

You chuckled, wiping away the last of your tears. “You’re right.”

Yuji’s easy smile returned as he led you back to the kitchen. Despite everything, you felt lighter than you had in years. With Yuji, there was no need for hiding anymore.

[pupkashi]

love comes easy when it’s gojo

a/n: what are you guys talking about chapter 236 ? the manga ended a while ago lol they’re all happy and safe ! don’t be silly guys >.< (I’m deep in denial no one hmu)

wordcount: 728

masterlist

loving satoru gojo was easy.

it was easy falling in love with him when you first began talking to him, stolen glances and flushed faces when either of you caught the other.

it came to you like second nature to play along with his jokes. your minds practically syncing up the second your eyes connected, silly grins on your faces as you both cracked dumb jokes.

there was something almost instinctive that had you intertwining your fingers with his, the tv on the show now background noise as satoru practically lay on top of you.

“what should we get for dinner?” you mumbled, half paying attention to the action on the screen, eyes landing on the mop of white hair in your lap.

satoru hummed, adjusting himself so that he was on his back and staring up at you, “want me to cook?” there was a smile playing on his lips as you pursed your lips at him.

“depends” you smile, “what is chef gojo gonna cook up for us tonight?” the smile on his face was evident now as he sat upright.

“maybe some instant ramen?” eyes glimmering as he speaks up again, “im feeling a bit fancy so how ‘bout i add an egg in there too.”

“an egg? you spoil me satoru,” you tease, watching as satoru pushes himself off the couch, stretching a bit. the bottom of his shirt lifts a bit and you catch his lower belly, smiling to yourself.

“oh but when you bend over i can’t whistle at you?” he pouts, catching the way you were practically giggling.

“satoru we were in a meeting with the higher ups,” you retort. the sorcerer only scoffs, mumbling something and heading into the kitchen.

it was easy to love satoru when he was carrying you out in the pouring rain, a cheesy love song blaring through his phone speakers in his pocket.

“dance with me!” his dimples peeking out and his eyes crinkling a bit as he laughed at your now soaked shirt.

you want to be angry, you want to scold him because he just got over the flu and this is gonna be terrible for him. but the small droplets of water collecting at the end of his white hair and sticking messily to his forehead make you keep your mouth shut.

you don’t say anything as you extend your arm out, giggling when he quickly pulls you into him by the waist, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, teeth hitting each other as the two of you burst into giggles.

“cyndi lauper is your go to?” you laugh, barely audible over the downpour surrounding the two of you.

“it was either her or whitney houston ” he smiles, turning his infinity on when he sees you shiver in the slightest, being sure to include you in it.

it was easy loving satoru gojo when he was shampooing your hair, kissing your shoulder and wrapping warm towels around you.

it was easy to fall deeper in love with him when the two of you are in bed, sweet nothings being interchanged between the two of you.

“i love you, angel boy,” you whisper, loving the way his cheeks grew pink, the grin on his lips growing as he nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.

“i love you more, sweets” his voice is softer, more vulnerable, than usual. there’s nothing on his mind except you, and there’s nothing on yours except him.

it’s when the two of you are making breakfast together, movements flowing easily as he passes you the eggs and he plates the pancakes. when you’re both sitting way too close to each other on the huge couch in the living room, pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you.

when you hand each other things without even uttering a word. when you sit in rare silence with your lover, the comfort of each others presence being enough for the two of you.

when he’s bringing home flowers or you’re making him his favorite foods, when you’re blushing at his shower of compliments and he’s running away the second you call him handsome.

it’s in between laundry loads and making plans that you both realize how easy love comes to each other.

loving satoru gojo was easy, especially when you fell in love with him all over everyday.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[thesoftuglywrites]

Satoru Gojo doesn't sleep.

Well, that's a lie. He sleeps, he just doesn't sleep well.

The man averages about two to three hours a night, when the average adult human should be getting about seven to eight consecutive hours of sleep. One could either blame it on the constant stream of input of cursed energy or information from his Six Eyes technique, or the monotonous flow of reverse cursed energy to try and keep his brain at optimum performance, or the busy schedule that's imposed on him due to his special grade status, being "The Strongest" and all that malarkey.

That is, until he started to share his bed and his home with you.

You remember how you pleaded with Satoru to try and get some rest after a day of lessons, the exorcism of a special grade curse that roamed the grounds of an abandoned primary school, and the paperwork that came with it. It seemed that had become his everyday schedule. Early mornings to mid afternoons, lessons. Afternoons to late evenings, missions. Evenings to the dead of night, paperwork. He barely had any time to take care of himself.

Even through the blindfold that he was wearing, you could see the bags were starting to bruise past his eyes and transcend to his cheekbones.

He was dog tired and in desperate need of rest.

You approached him as he was hunched over his office desk, typing up a report on the mission that had transpired that day. You noted that the plate of food that you had set out for him was picked clean, so you were at least grateful that he had taken the time to get something in his stomach.

You attempted to place a hand on his back, but were stopped with mere nanometers to spare by the invisible barrier that covered his body.

“You know you don’t have to use your Infinity with me around, right?” you gently chided.

He let out a soft sigh and the barrier lifted, allowing you to touch him. “I’m sorry. I’ve just…I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he groaned, letting his head fall forward and land on the keyboard. Consecutive ‘F’’s started to fill the screen where he had left off typing.

“‘Toru, it’s almost midnight. You’ve been at this report for the past four hours, and then some.” Your hand slid up his neck to get to his hair, oscillating between scratching and massaging his scalp as you threaded your fingers through his silver white locks. “You should get some rest. You, of all people, certainly need it the most.”

“Mmm… feels good, babe,” he moaned, his voice slightly muffled by the keyboard. He sits up straight, lifting his head off the desk. “As much as I want to, though, I can’t. I gotta get this report ready for Yaga so he can spare me a meeting with the higher-ups.” His nose upturned at the mention of the sickly, old, conservative bastards that sat behind paper screens.

“The higher-ups can eat shit for all I care. Right now, I’m concerned about you, ‘Toru.” You crouched down beside him and pulled his blindfold off, allowing you to look him in his eyes. “You keep going like this, and you’re gonna end up burning yourself out, my love. I won’t stand by and let that happen, not if I can help it, at least.” You reached up and gently held his cheek as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “Please come to bed.”

A moment of silence passed as Satoru drank in your concerns as well as your physical affections. He was a weak man when it came to your touch, being rendered to putty sometimes, with the euphoria that your body offered him. You were really the only person that he allowed freely to touch him, as no one else was really allowed the privilege.

You could have almost sworn that he started to purr underneath your fingers.

“Okay, I’ll go to sleep… if.”

You raised an eyebrow. “If?”

“If you come to bed with me. I don’t like the idea of you going back to your apartment so late at night, especially if I’m not there with you.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile with a breathy chuckled that followed. “Sure, ‘Toru. I’ll come to bed with you.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a standing position, letting him stand to his full height. He nearly stumbled after you as you guided him to his bedroom.

Satoru, when presented with the large California King sized bed, damn near face planted into the covers.

He was more exhausted than he initially thought he was.

Satoru turned onto his side, and even in total darkness, you could still see the glow of his blue eyes as they searched for you. He made grabby-hands at you as he stretched out his arms towards you, trying to get you into bed with him.

You clambered up beside him, quickly being swept up into his embrace as he pulled you into his chest, his warm exhaled breath tickling your exposed skin.

“Can… can I try something?” You hesitantly asked, unsure if he was going to take you seriously or not.

He pulled away, giving you a mischievous look with a small smirk starting to quirk up at the edge of his mouth.

“It’s not like that, you perv. I wanna try something different tonight. I think you’ll actually come to like it.”

He decided to humor you. He opened his arms and you maneuvered your way out of his embrace. You pulled back the covers and laid flat on your back with your head on his pillows.

“Come here,” you beckoned, patting the space beside you.

Satoru wasted little to no time, eagerly climbing up next to you, laying his head on your chest where he could hear your steady heartbeat. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, his breaths now lightly cascading over your collarbones. He wrapped you up into his arms, pulling you nearly inhumanly close to his front, almost as if he wanted to merge bodies with you.

“Shh… go to sleep, ‘Toru. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you softly cooed, your hand finding his scalp once again as you weaved your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching the skin there.

“Mmm…promise?” He sounded drunk.

“I promise. Get some rest.” You leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of his hair.

It didn’t take long for his respiration to even out, letting out soft puffs of air, and his grip to loosen only the smallest fraction. He began to lean a little bit more heavily into you as he wasn’t conscious to be mindful of his weight on top of you, but you didn’t mind.

You laid there, staring at the ceiling as you continued to stroke his hair, listening only to the steady rate of Satoru’s breathing and the soft hum of traffic outside of his high rise apartment.

You honestly can’t remember the last time that Satoru just took some time to breathe. Even on the rare occasion when he had downtime, his brain was still on high alert, no thanks to his Cursed Techniques and his high-ranked status in the Jujutsu world. He worried for his students and his co-workers safety, he fought the higher-ups on… basically everything, but his main concern, above all, was you.

You, the little non-sorcerer that managed to capture his attention by being at the right place at the right time. You, who knew nothing of the Jujutsu world, treated him like an actual human being instead of the weapon that he was always deemed. You have shown him genuine love and care, to the best of your ability, at least, trying to be a foundation for him to lean on even in his darkest moments.

It was an unorthodox relationship between the two of you, but you somehow made it work.

As time passed, Satoru remained in the same position with him tucked away at your side and his head on your chest. In his slumber, his hand started to drift up and grab hold of your shirt, fisting into his grip as he held onto you tightly, somehow afraid that you were going to slip away into the night and get away from him.

Eventually, you started to succumb to your own drowsiness, your eyes growing unbearably heavy as you laid there, the comfortable bed and the heat from Satoru’s body starting to lull you into a deeper sense of tranquility. You pressed another kiss to the top of his head and closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to come for you.

The two of you remained undisturbed for the rest of the night, finding solace in each other’s embrace.

[hurlingdown]

Please 🍶 anon. I’m a married man 👉💍

Though that does give me so many good ideas..

Pretending to be Muzan’s husband, a slayer finding you both in the cities so you have to press him against the wall and kiss him breathless to keep undercover. One thing leads to another and you’re fucking him in both his female and male form. He is humiliated with the noises he’s making and the way his body is trembling in your hold, he’s almost tempted to kill you.. but then you give him the most earth shattering orgasm and suddenly you’re his right hand man. Fucking him in every room of the infinity castle, sucking him off against the tree in the middle of an abandoned path, eating him out bent over against a well in the middle of a town during the night.

He even slips up and calls you his husband to one of the upper moons.

Toji getting married for money.. unhappy but not on the streets. His fat, rich husband dragging him to a fancy party - he’s bored out of his mind but he’ll do anything for a bag, and then he feels eyes on the back of his head - a cursed spirit under the guise of a tall, handsome businessman, watching him with burning insatiable need.

Toji’s done a lot of fucked up things for money, but none of them felt this good. Back arching as the curse fucks him deep and hard, his stupid husband calling his name as he gets fucked in the bathroom stall. Another fat wad of cash shoved between his tits to answer him, calling out that he’s fine and he’ll be out in a minute as your second set of hands begins to stroke and prod at his already stuffed hole.

Maybe big bad husband Crocodile finding no other option to discipline Buggy, calling you in - his prized bodyguard - to fuck some manners into the clown. Grabbing a hold of his bottom half as Mihawk grabs his head, forcing him to look as you and Crocodile kiss atop his decapitated body, your cock sinking inside him slowly.

Or even being Caesar Clowns ‘Work husband’ - a title he gave you and pretended everyone else gave it to you and he was disgusted by the prospect, though he never once stopped using it - you’re his assistant, bringing him snacks and drinks, getting files and viles.

One day bringing him a magenta vile labelled ‘dangerous’ ‘do not drink’ ‘do not inhale’, you’re oh so careful with this stupid little bottle when you’re tripped - Caesars tendril of smoke whisping back into his cloud coat. But instead of the vile landing on you like he had planned, it lands straight into his big mouth, draining the contents as his face turns bright red. Not even a minute later he’s leaking and begging you on his hands and knees that he needs your babies in him, he needs your dick inside of him and for you to breed him like livestock. Fucking little creep was trying to roofie you, well now you had all the means for some revenge.

Anyway, the bunny Zoro fic was fucking delicious. I need that bunny boy to come back whining for reader to cuddle and snuggle and fuck him stupid again.

Love you Hurlers.

- 🐉

Btw, have you watched My Hero? I have been trying to find someone to talk about All Might with. The way they have him in this newest episode has my dick drippinggg 😫😫

MUZAN AND TOJI??? WHAT A GOOD DAY TO BE ALIVE. just finished reading another banger thirst in my inbox and then i'm placed face to face with this. i seriously love you all.

no kidding. sugar baby toji is the singular best take on his character in the world of fanfics, and reader being a curse fits so well, i'm in awe. and caesar clown and aphrodisiacs mix so well, holy fucking shit. i'm going to be super busy after this month ends.

and yeah, i've watched mha. :) i'm not caught up with the latest two seasons, but i'm familiar with the lore up to s5. go ahead and rant about all might!!! thank you for the obscenely delicious thirsts!!!

[whalesforhands]

giving gojo satoru too many kisses

There’s a certain charm to turning the tables on the great Gojo Satoru.

Without his sunglasses, there’s no denying just how beautiful his eyes were, their brilliance rivaling the radiance of a supernova explosion, a luminosity like no other.

“And of course,” Your hands hold a stellar gaze in your palms when you pull away from a peck to his kiss-riddled lips. “You’re the sweetest husband ever.”

It’s also in these moments that you realize how human he is, so soft and tender and sleepy as you press kiss after kiss onto his face, your overwhelming affection the culprit of the pink on his cheeks that remind you of a sunrise’s afterglow, his demeanor now something quiet, serene and tranquil as he gives himself to you.

It reminds you of how the sun and moon can be so intertwined, like an event horizon line teetering between the opposing two.

“Mwah!” You absolutely want to imprint the shape of your lips onto his face forever as you pull away, making it a point to exaggerate the sound of your kisses as you keep overriding his thoughts with your sweet smooches all over his face.

Just because he deserves every kiss he gets.

“Hngh…” His eyes are squeezed shut, his lips struggling to keep themselves from stuttering when he talks so that he can take every ounce of your affection in entirety, his hands on your waist starting tremble as he fights against his cuteness aggression.

“Honey…! You’re gonna kill me…!” His complaint dies on his lips when he feels you land your kisses onto his lips once more, his satisfaction being sated.

He’s chasing after your sugary-sweet lips with every kiss you press to his lips, needy hands going up to press against the back of your head in hopes of melting your bodies and moulding your lips together until the next galaxies rise and fall.

“You’re so pretty, Satoru.” Your giggles feel like they could illuminate his very sky, your words akin to a candied sweet upon his tongue.

And it makes him want to swallow you whole.

“Prettier than Suguru?” His lashes flutter open as your thumb lovingly rubs a tender circle onto his cheek, your touch so soft that it makes him want to wish for a gravity that pulls your hearts together until they collide.

So you take this moment to tease.

“Mmm…” A kiss to his nose that makes him laugh just a little bit sweeter, his heart just a little more at ease. Makes him swear that the love in his heart was going to travel faster than the speed of light when it came to you.

“Nope!”

“Meanie!”

So, he decides that an infinity with you sounds like it would be just enough for him.

masterlist

[nightlyrequiem]

Hiii, so I have a request, would it be possible to make a story where Valeria is the evil queen in her kingdom but her fiancée is the sweetest person in the kingdom? Also I love your work, keep it up, kisses, kisses ❤️💋

Hiii!

Before I even started writing fanfiction for Valeria, I wanted to write something like a royal/regency AU! I never got around to it because I never knew what to do. This was fun and definitely more challenging then what I usually do thanks :3

Also thank you lots XX

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Royal!AU, Implied Time Period Misogyny (But Not A Lot.), Implied Time Period Homophobia (Barely), Wedding

Blue Blooded

Valeria is as cold and cruel as the unforgiving north. She's led her own army to many different battles over the course of her twenty-year reign. Uncommon for rulers and even less common for women. She caused quite the stir, many believing women were too delicate and weak for war. Valeria's name quickly became known and feared. Reina de la Muerte. She leaves a trail of bodies wherever she goes. The treatment of her servants is poor, and the treatment of her subjects is worse. She rejoices in the fear induces.

One of the duties of a ruler is to produce an heir. Her advisors have been pestering her about finding a husband since she was coronated at seventeen. Something they quickly learned to stop doing. Her patience for men has always been low. Not once has she ever looked at one and felt any sort of connection. Valeria knew it was likely that she never would. Not when she only felt something when looking at another woman. 

You were nothing more than a peasant. With a family who owned a failing farm. Cruelty breeds cruelty. Valeria's subjects have been forced into selfishness to survive. There's very little room for empathy when you're one day of work away from starvation. And yet, there you were. Dancing and laughing with a pack of filthy children. Despite the dullness to your skin and hair, you almost seemed to glow. Like there was a light inside of you strong enough to dispel the darkness Valeria had cast over the land. You were the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. It wasn't a one-time moment. Valeria had never noticed you before but one she did it's like she couldn't ever not see you. Using what little precious coins you have to buy food for the erratic beggar. Offering casual conversation to the local hag. Showing love to the mange-ridden strays prowling the cobble streets.

when Valeria was fourteen, her father had tried to set her up with princes of neighboring kingdoms. A political move to bring peace and potential allyship. Valeria fought tooth and nail. Refusing to even meet with the men. How she hated these traditions. Why should anyone but her decide who she marries? And yet, she found herself darkening your doorstep, nonetheless. Armed guards at her back. Your home was hardly more than a shack. Thatch roof coming loose at the ends and the smell of rot in the wood. The soil on your land was barren. Only cacti and weeds able to grow. A few sickly chickens ran loose around. Your father had answered the door, eyes yellowed from having one too many a drink. Asking for your hand in marriage was met with little resistance. His only trifle being that you were both women. Even that trepidation of course, was only told to her through his body language. Only the most stupidest of people would be willing to challenge the wants of Valeria. 

Though with her reputation and promises of a handsome dowry... it didn't take long to get his agreement. Not that it would have mattered. Valeria would have burned down your little farm down and taken you anyway.

The night sky is clear. A dark, inky, endless void. An infinity of stars stretches across its expanse. It's only a week until your wedding and with every day Valeria spends you, she only becomes more enamored. Valeria gently grasps your left hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. There is no escort to keep watch over you two in the castle gardens. Just another rule and tradition Valeria has stomped on and discarded like nothing.

"You look lovely in the moonlight." She murmurs. you blink and look away nervously. You're as timid as a wood mouse. Something that both endears and irritates Valeria. She wants you to be comfortable. To bare your teeth in an uncontrolled smile, she longs to know what your laugh sounds like. 

"Thank you."

She sighs. Lowering her hand and yours into her lap. Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Tell me how you feel about the wedding." She says.

"I am looking forward to it." You reply politely. A cool breeze blows through the area, disturbing her dark hair.

"No," Valeria shakes her head. "be honest with me. Tell me how you feel about the wedding." She demands softly.

Valeria watches you hesitate, trying to decipher if this is a trap or not. That you'll suffer harsh consequences for your honesty. Valeria isn't playing mind games with you, nor will she punish you. There is no wrong answer. Just a lovestruck woman desperate to know her fiancée's true feelings.

"I'm... anxious." You admit, not looking at her. Your free hand picks up a stray leaf, moving your thumb over the lines and groves.

"And me? What are your feelings around me?" She asks quietly. Valeria is no fool. She knows you don't really love her yet. That you're wary of her.

"... I'm not sure how I feel about you." You sigh. Letting go of the leaf. It flutters to the ground. You raise your gaze and meet her eyes. "When I came home, and my father told me of my betrothment to you I cried. You are cruel and unjust."

All things true, Valeria knows. She even prides herself on it, but hearing you say it doesn't make her feel as good about it. Your eyes dart across her face, searching for any sign of anger. When you find none, you continue.

"I thought I may faint when you asked to meet for the first time. I was dreading it." You murmur. "But then you weren't like anything I expected."

"I am exactly like how you expected." She counters gently. Giving your hand a small squeeze. "I am mean, and selfish, and bad. Everything said about me is true and I regret nothing. But I promise you this, I will be none of those things to you."

Your eyes seem to dim in disappointment. You had assumed that perhaps she was misunderstood. Valeria hates to disappointment you, but she won't hide what she is. A monster in royal robes.

"Oh." 

"You're as precious as the crown." Valeria whispers. "An angel in the flesh. It's rare to meet someone not turned bitter by their circumstances. My - our - subjects will love you."

"But they don't love you." You reply. Frowning.

"I don't need their love, but they need yours." She sighs. She needs it too. Something that will soften her sharp edges.

Valeria sighs and leans towards you. Resting her forehead on your shoulder. For a second, she's a child again, not yet corrupted by her own cruelty. Like that inherit goodness inside of you is contagious.

Valeria seldom feels nervous, but waiting at the altar in her wedding gown, she can feel her palms growing clammy. Eyes are locked onto Valeria while she waits for her bride to be walked down the aisle. Subjects who silently disagree with how everything is progressing but hold no power to speak out. You and your father round the corner. Your extravagant white dress trailing behind you, an intricate lace veil hiding your face from view. The sight makes her heart swell. Your father walks you up to the altar and hands you off to Valeria. signifying the beginning of your new life.

Valeria takes your hands, catching the barest of glimpses of your face beneath the veil.

"We are gathered here today in the royal unification of these two individuals." The officiant begins. "Repeat these words after me before the lord, 'I promise to love you always, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you until death.'" You and Valeria both repeat his words. Valeria with a little more enthusiasm. You two say your 'I do's'. "Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you... wife and... wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Without hesitation Valeria lifts your veil. Your eyes glint in the light. She grabs ahold of your face with all the gentleness she can muster and brings her lips to yours. Finally tasting you for the first time. Your lips are soft, moulding to hers with ease. The kiss is short lived, but it won't be the last. Valeria pulls away and smiles. Something small and genuine, reserved only for you. To her surprise, your lips twitch up ever so slightly. Returning that sweet smile for a moment. The public crowd rises and gives their reluctant cheers. A few sounding more genuine than the others. Perhaps hoping that your kind nature rubs off on her.

[blood-smiles]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 TW ~ MDNI . clown is a creep . reader is a loser and has no idea how to flirt . implied stalking

╰┈➤ How did you even get here? Is what you thought to yourself as your fists locked around a fistful of colorful hair, milk white eyes glossy with tears looking up at you with nothing but devotion behind them, strong arms locked around your legs, plush chest pressed against your knees, so please explain, how did things escalate to this degree?

Your best friend was sick and couldn’t take their sibling to a party, and they basically begged you to take their little sibling (s/n), 

your best friend was starting to look pathetic, so eventually you caved and gave into their pleads, they basically guilt tripped you into the whole thing,

You grabbed (s/n) by their hand, making sure to keep them close to you, the more you observed them the more they seemed like the human reincarnation of a hyperactive squirrel, barely being able to contain their excitement, zipping from one place to the other,

“(Y/n)!! Come oooon! We need to goooo!” The high pitched voice of (s/n) whined to you, pulling on your hand with their whole body weight,

“Okay, Okay, let’s go..” you answered their demands, moving your feet from the place you prostrated yourself,

After a brief walk you and (s/n) arrived at a huge house, you know someone has big money if their house has their own gate, 

You walked up to the gates, your eyes briefly looking at the obsidian like tint of the metal gates, 

There seemed to be a doorbell beside the gate with a small speaker, a camera placed just above it, you pressed the doorbell, a loud buzzing reverberated from the device, a red blinking light emitted from the camera,

(s/n) ran up to the speaker, and then proceeded to yell into the speaker at the top of their lungs,

“HI! MY NAME IS (S/N) AND THAT LADY IS (Y/N!! WE CAME FOR THE PARTY!!” the small child grabbed the sides of the machine, shoving their chubby face into the lenses,

Suddenly the gates started shifting, creating a noise alike to the sound of nails scraping a chalkboard, absolutely dreadful.

You cringed at the uncomfortable sound of the gates, someone really needed to check that out soon..

(s/n) pulled you along, running into the grand house with you behind, it was easy to locate where the so called party was,

As a huge bouncy house was situated right in the middle of the estate, bright red, yellow and green stood out, 

Many rows of tables decorated in the same colors of the bouncy house aligned neatly side by side,

And that was just the dining area, there was a huge pile of gifts of all shapes, sizes and colors placed on top of a table,

You looked down at your own gift as you placed it on the table, grimacing slightly at your lack of creativity, you basically just put the gift inside a cute bag and put decorative tissue inside and called it a day, 

“(Y/n) can I go play? Please please pleeeeaase!!” The child next to you pleaded with you, pulling on your shirt repeatedly to ensure your attention wan on them,

How did (bf/n) deal with this little shit? You were moments away from kicking this little prick to infinity and beyond, your patience truly is beyond this world..

“Fine— go play or something, but don’t go too far away, Kay? Only where I can see you, or else your older sibling will have my head..” you ruffled the small child’s hair and waved them goodbye, but when you lifted your hand they were already far gone,

You sighed, looking around if there was something to eat besides over saturated candy with way too much sugar,

Soon your gaze landed on  something entirely else, not water or any normal food— but a clown,  it was totally expected they would have an entertainer here, but this.. type of clown?

That was no clown, that must be fucking moto moto or some shit, you were expecting to see a skinny middle aged man acting overly positive in a colorful attire,

Well, he was a fucking hunk of a man, even with clown makeup on and all the eye violating colors he had on, he was still a hot babe in your humble opinion,

Well shit, you fear of clowns suddenly disappeared.

Your eyes were basically glued onto this man, you were moments away from biting your fist to try and contain the ungodly cough that was about to come out of your mouth,

The costume barely being able to keep his humongous chest inside, although the buttons seemed like they were crying for help,

And his biceps.. they way they shifted with each move he made while making a balloon dog, fucking enchanting.

Your eyes darted from his colorful hair to his muscles and back and forth, 

His hair was basically a rainbow, strands of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and pink decorated his hair, and it seemed it wasn’t a wig either, that’s some real devotion to your job, dying your hair for a clown job is crazy devoted.

You stared at the clown for a little longer, noticing strange markings on his skin… Were those tattoos? And crudely covered up ones at those.. urgh.. the paint he was using to cover them up was doing nothing..

The tall clown noticed your stare, turning around and smiling unsettlingly at you, bringing his gloved hand up to wave at you.

.. was that a golden tooth? You asked yourself as you waved back awkwardly, a nervous smile on your face,

Is this a gangster clown or some shit?

They really were hiring anyone now huh..? Okay, but you would still hit,

Would it honk though?

The clown from earlier was still eyeing you, he wouldn’t admit it, but his eyes were glued onto you like you were the only thing in the world,

God, how can someone be so perfect?

“—aw breaker! Jaw breaker!” An annoying little shit pulled on his hand, 

This little brat was the kid you came with, however it didn’t look anything like you, surely you wouldn’t miss a nuisance like it, right?

He looked down at the child, his cloudy eyes narrowing into a pointed glare under his colorful tresses, he tilted his head asking the child to speak,

“Can you-Can you make me a..a flower?” The child elaborated while toying with their hands, looking up at him with careful eyes,

The clown had to hold back a scoff, grabbing a balloon he masterfully crafted a rubber flower, the petals a soft pink and the stem a vine green,

He watched as the little abomination ran over to you, offering the balloon flower to you, his jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together, the tendons of his neck becoming strained as thick veins sprawled across his smooth skin,

He was seeing red, all he wanted to do was to grab that brat by the hair and pound it’s head into the pavement, who cares if it’s a kid? Fuck them kids.

All he wanted was you, he knew your eyes were on him constantly, scanning over his face and body, he liked it, he liked your attention being on him.

He hated that you weren’t watching him anymore, he was jealous, he knew he was.

He wants everyone here dead. Dead. Dead. Especially that little kid with you, he wants that kid six feet deep underneath.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to release some frustration from his body, the veins sprawling across his arms were working overtime, hot blood surging through them, boiling under his skin.

His rage seemed to go down when he gazed at you, oh.. How sweet you looked, that little smile made you look so adorable, 

He watched as you took the balloon flower in your hands and admired it, you set it in your lap while smiling fondly,

The colorful man swore his heart stopped for a whole moment, the white makeup on his face miraculously covering up the blooming blush on his face,

He lifted his hands to cup his burning cheeks, the skin under his callous fingers feeling way too warm for comfort,

The rest of the part went on as normally as possible, the clown himself not being too much entertainment for the children, 

Many of the smaller kids complained that the entertainer didn’t even talk to them, just responding with nods or hums on special occasions,

And soon the party was over, you were dead tired and over stimulated, the bright colors, lights and the sweet scent of candy was making you go mad,

But you really needed to find a bathroom, it felt as if your bladder was going to pop if you didn’t pee now.

You asked a parent to watch over s/n while you went and did your business,

You basically sprinted over to the bathroom, making sharp twists and turns, but soon enough a familiar head of colorful hair caught your eye,

The hot clown? (You soon learned his stage name was Jaw breaker) 

You noticed him fiddling with what seemed to be a lighter, he opened and closed the small box with a satisfying click, turning the lighter in his hands masterfully, not even glancing down,

You were so focused on the lighter that you didn’t seem to notice him quietly staring at you, he tilted his head to the side, getting some of the hair covering his eyes away from his vision,

beads of sweat glistened across his skin, the once white face paint beginning to slip off his face, leaving some parts of his face completely bare, showing off the smooth skin underneath,

Now is your time, you need to flirt with the hot clown, it’s now or never, 

You shakily approached the tall man, taking out a handkerchief you stuck out your hand, the cloth lying on the center of your palm,

“Uhm. You are pretty— I mean, pretty sweaty.. Oh god that sounds wrong, uh.. Just uhm. Here, have this.” You fucked up that interaction so bad, god you want to hide in a hole and never come out again..

The clown smiled at you fondly, gently taking the handkerchief from your hand, his touch being as light as a feather, but did he really need to grab your whole hand to grab it? You weren’t complaining! Just curious and a little creeped out..

You got a glimpse of his eyes, just briefly, the pupil of his eye was a grey, while his iris was ghost white, just a shade away from blending in completely with the sclera of his eye,

His pupils were blown out, almost unnaturally, and they only seemed to get larger when making contact with your own eyes,

“..Thank you.” Wow. You were expecting a deeper voice, but his voice was unusually soft and soothing, it was just like your eardrums were caressed gently,

Then you ran away after that, your bladder was going to start to leak if you didn’t go neoww.

But the dark skinned man was left standing in awe, staring at your vanishing form longingly, 

After you were gone he squeezed the soft cloth in his hand, he wasn’t even going to try and wipe his disgusting sweat with your handkerchief, he wouldn’t dare soil it with his bodily fluids..

Little digits and letter were imprinted in what seems to be fresh ink, was this your hand writing?

‘XXX-XXX-XXXX, you’re pretty cute, text me whenever - y/n’

What a sweetheart.. you just saved him the hassle of having to infiltrate your home security! And now he had the chance to finally get a new tattoo, and he had decided it would be your name, probably on his lower back or lower stomach..

He couldn’t help but bring the cloth closer to his nose and taking a deep whiff, soon he couldn’t restrain himself any longer and ended up pressing the precious item against his face he inhaled your scent like it was oxygen, like he was a suffocating man.

And lord, that was the most eye rolling, thigh clenching experience he has ever had, the ecstasy he got from you was higher than any type of drug or booze he had tried, you were just on a different level,

A pathetic whimper was just barely muffled by the thin cloth,

Were you some type of god? Just who were you? Did you come to personally bless his pitiful boredom filled life?

Shit.. His pants were feeling awfully tight, his eyes glanced down to the colorful patterns of his pants becoming distorted under the new prominence of his little problem,

A beeping went off on his phone, he decided to shrug off what was happening in his lower regions for now, 

He had found his new object of infatuation, and he wouldn’t let go, not after you had done this to him, you have to accept the consequences of your actions! He will try to be as gentle as possible with you..

Surely you won’t mind having a new neighbor and a new regular at your workplace, would you, baby doll?

[rjdent]

A stack of Maldorors.

The Songs of Maldoror by Le Comte de Lautreamont (English translation by R J Dent) published by Infinity Land Press.

[ddeonghwa-s]

a moment between infinity .ᐟ.ᐟ

reuniting with your soulmate in the space between one life and the next.

꒰୨୧꒱— jeon wonwoo x reader

꒰୨୧꒱— wc is approx. 2.5k.

꒰୨୧꒱— genre : themes of love, romance; angst

꒰୨୧꒱— tropes : reincarnation, reuniting after life, soulmates

꒰୨୧꒱— cw : themes of life and death, discussion of physical separation, missing life events due to death, lives cut short.

꒰୨୧꒱— tw : for discussion of dying young/living life unfilled

꒰୨୧꒱— notes : thank you lexi @heechwe for beta reading! this sounds depressing but i swear there's tons of love in there!

you see wonwoo as soon as you step out from beneath the shade of a tree you don’t remember walking under. the sun, for a fleeting moment, is overly bright. it pierces your eyes with its light, horribly brilliant and blinding. 

you don’t want to look away from wonwoo; don’t want to close your eyes for even a second. 

the pain you feel from the sunlight is immense, and before you can comprehend the desire, the most rudimentary of all wants, so much so that it’s a need, you are blinking your eyes against the cruelty of the sun. 

he’s still there when you open them. 

(he wasn’t the last time you blinked at him.)

(a moment of stillness, of a deep breath taken before plunging into freezing waters; of the last gasp for clean air before being consumed by flame; of a desperate choke for life as death swings its decisive sword.)

(you remember this.)

(and yet you don’t.)

(it’s weird, you think between the pauses of forever, between one breath and the next, how everything and nothing exists so closely intertwined.)

wonwoo smiles. it isn’t that blinding smile of pure exhilaration you so distinctly remember the twelfth time as the two of you looked down from the bow of the ocean liner, waving down at the citizens of south hampton that had come to bid the ship farewell. instead it was his soft, slowly-growing smile that took you back to the second time, to that little ger on the eurasian steppe, holding your first ever son. 

wonwoo opens his arms. 

naturally you go into them. 

the world is made up of pairs, you know, the wisdom of nothing and everything, of finity and infinity, surrounding you. north and south; up and down; sky and earth; you and wonwoo. two things, concepts, beings so closely intertwined that to force one from the other is to break the thin threads of the cosmos. 

and so, like the sky embracing the earth, you go into wonwoo’s arms. 

he’s wearing the outfit you saw him last. his auburn corduroy shirt jacket smells of gasoline still (for him the last sixty years were a mere handful of hours; for you, a lifetime. and so the scent of death still sticks to him as if no time had passed at all, despite.) and when he lifts his arms to wrap them around you, to envelope you into his body, you can see the turquoise scrunchie he had kept on his wrist for you peak out from his sleeve. 

“i’m sorry,” he says. his voice is as deep as you remember. wonwoo presses his nose into your hair. you burrow your face into him, seeking out this natural scent, trying to bypass all the smells of death. “you said we didn’t need more tape, that it’d be fine.”

“i said we didn’t need tape,” you agreed. there had been moments you felt such overwhelming anger towards wonwoo for going despite you arguing otherwise. this, between nowhere and everywhere, was void of such feelings. instead you pressed your nose deeper and deeper, hands grabbing at his shirt. 

“i wanted to make sure we could finish wrapping presents before your mother arrived,” wonwoo said. “i wanted everything to be perfect.”

they found a ring on him, after; a simple silver band and diamond. 

“i know.” 

you shifted. 

wonwoo sighs into your hair. “i’m sorry. i wish – i have a thousand wishes. a thousand wishes for a thousand lifetimes. would you ever forgive me?”

you hum. you think of a land impossibly far, of a lifetime where you sobbed as wonwoo explained he had to leave, had to fight; how easy it was for you to resume that rage once he returned from the war, missing an arm and a chunk of his ear but still breathing and smiling. 

(sometimes he didn’t return.)

(sometimes you didn’t return.)

(those times, you knew, were seldomly seen. your universes, your forevers, were large, ever-expanding tapestries sewn by the threads of your lives. more often than not, nearly always, the threads revealed a beautiful picture of life and love and contentment; of a small forever trapped within a shared lifetime.)

(seldomly did the threads show another picture.)

(you think back to that ocean liner. to how cold it was; to how he disappeared for a heavier jacket and never returned, to how you slipped and fell and were submerged in a cold unlike any other –) 

“i forgive you each and every time,” you mumble into his shir.t. “just as you do me. i don’t think we’d have as many lifetimes together if we didn’t at least like one another.”

“ew,” he says, voice still gentle despite the teasing sentiment of his words, “you like me?”

as if you hadn’t fallin in love with wonwoo for fifteen generations in a row; as if your soul hadn’t sought his; as if you didn’t press yourself into his arms with every breath between lives, trying to memorize his scent and soul before the both of you take the plunge into the next life. 

“you have to stay with me next time,” you say. you try to keep your voice from cracking; it doesn’t work. you’ve shed a million tears for a million lifetimes – fifteen, to be exact, but math isn’t the sort of thing one worries about in places like this, places where everything of the past exists and nothing of the future; where you bear the weight of fifteen lifetimes on your shoulders knowing none of it will matter. 

“you can’t leave me,” you cry into his shirt. you can feel his chest heave underneath you, can feel the earth and not-earth shift beneath the two of you as wonwoo wraps you tighter in his arms. “you can’t leave me this time. not to fight a war that isn’t yours; to get a jacket; to pick up tape. you can’t leave me alone. i can’t handle another lifetime without you.”

wonwoo’s sob is the quiet, heart-wrenching of one that bubbles out despite all attempts to quell it. you can feel his body lurch against you from the force of it. his weeping is ugly, the sounds of his gasps in your ear loud and wholy unpleasant. 

the two of you cry against one another, clutching at one another. you’ve lived more lives together than apart, have memorized the wrinkles that line the corners of his eyes the older he gets, have learned the breathing patterns of his sleep. 

but still – 

the thought of parting is one you never bear. perhaps if you were a stronger soul it would be easier; perhaps if your soul loved his less it would be easier. 

you think back to the past sixty years. and then you think of your lives from the far past. only a few had forced either of you to live without the other, but the pain of them drowns out the happiness of any other. happiness, you have learned, is a golden thing that only seems to truly glow when the moment has long past, when you look back and think ah, that was an evening well spent. 

pain, on the other hand, is brilliant and loud and sharp. it demands its victim to focus on it. and so despite the lives you and wonwoo have spent beside one another, growing to old, shriveled ages in contentment, the pain of loneliness, of the heartbreak of knowing you would lie without the other half of your small universe, of living without your moon or sk or true north, of the other half of your pair that made up the galaxies and cosmos; of knowing you would never be whole. 

that is why the two of you cry. 

“i won’t leave you,” wonwoo promises. neither of you mention how the promise is empty. he cannot and will not remember any word said in this infinite space, during this small and endless moment between infinity. 

he won’t remember the press of your body against his. he won’t remember how you’re crying against him, how he vows to you, himself, and the universe he won’t leave you stranded in a lifetime again. 

(you remember the first lifetime. you remember the tall grasses of your village, of how you and wonwoo would duck down into them to press full-mouthed kisses to one another’s skin, ignorant and naive and happy in your first life. 

you force yourself not to remember how it felt when your uncle agreed to your marriage to a village that would take nearly a year for you to travel to. how it felt to know that despite the fact your love for wonwoo was greater than any force in the cosmos the two of you still answered to those on earth.

you had promised yourself you would never leave him again. that your second lifetime and all the ones after it would be spent at his side and no one else’s.

you promise yourself this once more. 

the universe says nothing in reply.)

wonwoo leans back, sniffling. his nose is red. he raises his hands up to your face, shaking. when wonwoo kisses you it’s wet and there’s spit and snot, but you lean into it as if it were the sealing kiss of a wedding.

“tell me what you loved,” he begs. “you loved after me. tell me.”

you nod. heartbreak lasts forever, and so does love. love is not something that begins and ends with one person; it is everlasting and multifaceted, existing in the smallest, most inconsequential of things. 

“jungkookie got me a puppy,” you say, voice still wet from crying. “i told him it was too much, that i didn’t have the energy for it. he said that was what i needed.”

wonwoo grinned at the mention of his brother. he leaned forward, tucking his forehead into your neck. “what was it’s name?”

“it was a mutt,” you say, “but i remembered how much you love that movie, the fox and the hound. so i named it copper.

“it was black,” you carry on, grinning at wonwoo’s chuckles that he presses into your skin. “jungkookie said it was a lab-shepherd mix. i couldn’t tell the difference.”

“copper the black pup,” wonwoo says. “what else?”

the sun is gentle in its caresses against your flesh, the breeze sweet in its dance. you and wonwoo settle against grass, curling into one another. you can’t raise your voice too much due to the close proximity, and so each word is a tender thing. 

you tell wonwoo of the red forbidden palace jungkook’s son took you to see during a school trip and how, despite the fact you could hear cars honking, it felt as if you were transported hundreds of years into the past. 

you tell wonwoo about the little bookstore that opened up next to his father’s dentist shop. of the tall, towering bookcases; of the cats that lived within; how as soon as you stepped inside you were met with the smell of real wood. 

you tell wonwoo of a little stray kitten you found in your forties, of how you named it romeo for how clingy it was. 

(“i still say we should’ve forced that bastard to write in an acknowledgement that it was our story he was writing,” wonwoo says, tracing the curve of your cheek. “he gets far too much recognition for his genius as it is.”)

he laughs when you tell him about seeing warwick castle for the first time in this lifetime, about the feeling of having been there despite not remembering. he teases you for it with memories of your tenth lifetime, of running down stone halls with you. 

“we’ll go again,” he says. he presses his nose against yours. you grab his hand, lacing your fingers together. “we can get married there just like we did back then.”

you huff a laugh. “if it’s still there. you said that about persepolis.”

“how was i to know that damned macedonian prince would burn it to the ground,” wonwoo laughs. he grows somber, staring at you with deep brown eyes. “how much time do you think has passed?”

you shrug, thinking. time exists and it doesn’t. here, in this sunny pasture, it’s as if time doesn’t exist at all. that cannot be said for when you wake. 

either a year has passed or two hundred; this cannot be said for sure. 

you and wonwoo both were born within five years after the sinking of the titanic, of dying those horribly cold and wet deaths. you died, the two of you would later realize, thirty years before the destruction of persepolis and were reborn five hundred years later. 

and so that is how time flows. 

“well,” wonwoo says, “it’s not like it matters.”

“no?”

“as long as there’s still trees and air we’ll be okay.”

you gasp, having expected something horribly romantic. you’re not sure why you expected this. you gently shove his shoulder all the same, scolding wonwoo for his jest. 

later, though neither of you can say how much time later, you stare up at the sky. the clouds move. the sun keeps at the same position. 

“when do you think we’ll find one another?”

“you know we can’t decide that.”

“guess anyways,” you demand. 

wonwoo wiggles against the dirt. “you’ll move schools in high school,” he announces, “and i’ll be utterly bewitched by the new girl. she’ll be beautiful and sweet, and i won’t say anything at all.”

“that’s not a very good love story.”

“but then we’ll meet again,” he carries on, eyes tracing the fluffy curves of a cloud. “and i’ll be older and more confident. it’ll be at a college bar. you’ll still be beautiful, of course. and i’ll go up to you and say ‘hey, i knew you in high school.’ you’ll smile at me despite not quite remembering. then we’ll meet again and again, and our lives will become intertwined.”

you look at the blue infinity above you as if it could reveal anything. you wanted to know the secrets of it; how to live for forever with wonwoo, how to meet him earlier and spare no time loving one another. 

you want there to be a forever of this. of being by wonwoo’s side, of having him there beside you. you don’t know how many years you’ve spent without him in total; how many have been spent with him. whatever the answers are, you know it’s either too many or too few. 

there’s somewhere, you want to believe, where you and wonwoo can spend eternity side by side without separation; without life or death pulling you from each other’s side. there’s somewhere, you have to believe, where you can spend every happy moment with wonwoo. where you don’t have to spend this small infinity telling him about the little joys you’ve encountered in the years since he’s passed. 

you close your eyes. you can feel tears sting at the corners of them. the breeze muses your hair. all you want is to be with him, to have him at your side, to hold his hand every day and for the rest of the days. 

where your promises if i won’t leave you mean something, where they do more than just shift the air around you. 

you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with pure air. 

and then

[anakinstwinklebunny]

To Infinity and Beyond..

SAM MONROE didn’t exactly get hyped about birthdays. Not his own, not anyone else’s. But Vinnie's? His kid, the one who’d somehow turned his whole world upside down in the best way possible? Yeah, birthdays became a big freaking deal.

That’s why, at midnight, he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Vinnie’s tiny room, surrounded by Toy Story action figures and a tangled mess of balloons. The figures were brand new--Buzz, Woody, Jessie, even Rex--and Sam had saved up for months to get them all. His job at the auto shop didn’t pay much, but every spare penny went into making sure Vinnie had the best second birthday possible.

“Okay, Buzz, you better stay put this time,” he muttered, pressing the figure down onto the floor. Buzz tipped over again, taking Woody with him, and Sam groaned quietly so to not wake up the little guy before rubbing his face with both hands. “You’re supposed to be a Space Ranger, man. Act like it.”

Finally, after what felt like hours of rearranging and tying earlier blown up balloons to the toys, Sam got everything set up just right. Toys posed around Vinnie’s bed, with a colorful balloon floating above them. Sam couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself.

“Kid’s gonna love this,” he mumbled to himself, standing back to admire his work, hands shoving into his pockets.

When morning finally came, Sam was already awake, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He’d spent half the night checking on Vinnie, and the presents, making sure he didn’t wake up too early and ruin the surprise. Now, with the sunlight streaming through the window, Sam stepped closer, gently waking the little guy by patting his chubby cheek. After a short while, little boy stirred, tiny body wiggling under the covers.

Vinnie blinked sleepily, big eyes landing Sam first. He let out a huge yawn, tiny fists rubbing his eyes as Sam began mumbling first «happy birthday». When Vinnie finally grew a courage to stand up, his mouth dropped open in a loud gasp before he let out a delighted, “Buh! Buh! Woooo!”

Sam grinned, scooping the boy from the bed and setting him on the floor “Yeah, buddy. Buzz and Woody showed up just for you.”

Vinnie sat up, curls sticking out in every direction, and pointed a chubby finger at Buzz Lightyear. “Buhhh!” voice high-pitched with excitement. “Buh buh go sky!”

“Yeah, Buzz goes to space,” Sam crouched down next to the boy, tone failing down to a soft whisper. “He told me he wanted to meet you with his friends. They said you’re the coolest kid around.”

Vinnie giggled, immediately reaching out with pudgy hands to grab Buzz by the legs. The balloon attached to him bobbed wildly as Vinnie held him close to his chest. “Buhhh mine!” he declared proudly

“Yeah, he’s yours, buddy,”

Vinnie’s excitement only grew as he noticed, and then groped on, the other toys, clumsily crawling/walking across the room to grab Woody and Jessie. Little mouth never stopped moving, babbling gibberish that Sam could only half understand.

“Yeh!” the boy grabbed Woody and lifted it up to Sam with wide, expectant eyes.

“Yeah, that’s Woody,” Sam mumbled, taking the figure and pretending to make him walk across the floor. “He’s Buzz’s best friend. Kinda like how you're my best friend.”

Vinnie giggled again, joy so pure it made Sam’s chest ache. He didn’t care that the whole setup had taken him hours, or that he’d spent most of his paycheck on the toys. Seeing Vinnie this happy made it all worth it. The boy clapped his pudgy hands, immediately getting on Sam's lap to inspect other toys properly "Happy birthday buddy" Sam whispered, kissing Vinnie's temple

Sam’s mom appeared in the doorway, her phone in hand. “Oh, Sam, this is perfect,” she said, smiling as she hit record.

“Mom, c’mon,” Sam grumbled, cheeks turning red. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to hide his face from the camera while on the other hand, Vinnie was proudly grinning to it. Immediately wobbling to his grandpa, with arms outstretched, showing a new toy with a giggle

But at the end of the day, Sam would do anything for his little guy. Even if it meant having to be recorded in every occasion and learning how to tie balloons to Space Rangers at three in the morning.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca

[shogunish]

𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲.

pairing. gojo satoru x reader

genre. fluff, drabble, established relationship

warnings. none! just tooth-rotting fluff!

summary. only with you in his arms does he feel safe and happy.

words. 676

note. i need to write soft toru or else my depression develops depression

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! <3

inspired by still with you.

Moonlight peeks through the curtains and softly illuminates the bedroom in which Satoru was fast asleep. Although the moon is so lonely on that dark night, it's still kind enough to spill some of its light onto Satoru's face, his body. His skin appeared to be a shade lighter, white lashes glimmered. Back muscles were highlighted in that gentle glow which kissed his skin.

The low-pitched hum of the air conditioner fills the bedroom along with Satoru's slow breathing. It is all he has that night. Too big and too cold is the bed and his arms are too empty without your delicate body to hold. A mission, the higher-ups said, a curse that only you could exorcise. But Satoru thought that those old geezers only wanted to keep both of you separated for as long as possible.

He knows you can handle yourself, and yet..his sleep is so light that a needle falling to the ground would wake him up. Only with you could Satoru sleep well. Your mere presence is enough for him to feel safe and protected.

Safer than Infinity, he always says.

Somewhere between dreamland and reality, Satoru makes out the creaking of a door and light footsteps padding across the wooden floors. Catching a hint of your scent as you make your way to the adjoining bathroom, he knows you're finally home. But he doesn't say anything yet.

Because he is aware of the skincare routine you do every day without fail and he knows that you like getting into bed with brushed teeth and hair, clean underwear and him patiently waiting for you.

About ten to fifteen minutes later, you turn off the lights and finally let your gaze land upon Satoru who looks so peaceful shirtless underneath the moonlight, lashes almost kissing his cheeks and all. The mattress dips ever-so-slightly under your weight and you're careful, because you don't want to wake Satoru when he seems so tranquil.

A warm, large hand lifts your nightgown and rests on the dip of your waist. "You're home." Satoru mumbles, his cerulean blue eyes heavy with the need to sleep, but he just has to see you, look at you, admire you.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you, Toru." You speak in hushed tones, combing your tender fingers through the snow-white mess of his hair and drawing out a low hum of contentment that vibrated in the back of his throat. He loves that nickname you gave him so long ago.

Shaking his head, Satoru gently noses the curve that connects your hips to your torso and it tickles – you smelled like raspberries, he noted. "Can't sleep without you anyways." His voice is faint against your skin, each syllable thick with sleep.

And you laugh at his lovely words. Not because they're funny, but because they fill your heart with the kind of happiness that only Satoru could give you. "Lucky you I came back, hm?"

Usually, a smart comment would fall from the very tip of his tongue, but he's sleepily mumbling about him being indeed lucky to have you tonight. In fact, he's lucky to have you by his side every night.

"I missed you." Satoru whispers against your skin before lifting your nightgown just a bit higher and pressing a kiss to your waist. A kiss that lingered simply because he loves the way you feel against his lips, loves the way you taste and loves the blush that springs to your cheeks.

Not giving you any time to respond, you're pulled into bed and underneath the warm blanket. Satoru is quick to wrap his arms around your middle, snuggle up to your body and bury his face in your shoulder. The fact that your hair is right in his face doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"I missed you, too." Your voice is barely above a whisper.

A smile tugs at the corners of Satoru's lips as he listens to your voice, your breathing. Only with you in his arms does he feel safe and happy.

taglist; @torusmochi

[passcode58]

...

Not Requested |

Fluff |

High School Gojo x reader |

Warnings |None

You'd woken up to see the sun went down. After the day of festivities you wanted some silence, and bask in the ambiance. As a sorcerer, this was a rare opportunity to enjoy the good in life so you wasted no time, throwing on your beach hells and a coverup over your purple bikini. As exited the room and gaze at the moonlit beach, you spot Gojo Satoru sitting alone on a couch looking off into the distance, his striking figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Under the dim light he looks so heavenly, all by himself and uncharacteristically silent, but otherworldly all the same. As you draw nearer, you can't help but be captivated by this heavenly essence and the arrow cupid shot at you hurts— he was simply too good for this world, especially his mesmerising eyes despite the burden it brought upon him. Your heart flutters with anticipation as you approach him slowly, wanting to make your presence known without startling him.

"Hey there, handsome," you call out playfully, your voice carrying on the gentle ocean breeze.

Gojo turns to look at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but it quickly transforms into a charming smile. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite tease," he quips, his tone laced with amusement. You chuckle and stop in front of him, within arms reach and lean down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "What are you doing here all by yourself, precious?" you ask, genuinely curious.

"I'm just enjoying the view," he replies, his eyes gazing out at the vast sea and the shimmering moonlit waves. You know its more than that, though, with the way he taps his finger along the back of your thigh, he squeezes gently before taking a palm and pressing it to his lips, your heart melts. It doesn't take much for him to continue naturally. You were his comfort, you were his home."For once, I feel like I have a family. The people at Jujutsu High and Riko, they mean a lot to me…you know? You guys…are the first people to treat me like I'm more than six eyes, that I'm more than just Gojo." He's distant, just a bit. His eyes land on your form, and your breath is taken away, for the millionth time. Your heart swells with affection for him, admiring the vulnerable side he rarely shows— as in rarely. "You do have a family," you say tenderly, reaching out to lightly touch his hand. "And I'm part of it too, you know."

Gojo gives you a playful smirk. "Oh, really? Since when did you become such a sap?"

You laugh, not missing a beat. "Since I met you, Gojo. You bring out the best in me." He laughs, spreading his legs as an inspiration for you to sit, and he holds your leg, lightly passing his palm along it. It's then you realise his infinity is off, and you keep that in mind.The two of you engage in light banter and teasing as the night goes on. There's an undeniable romantic tension between you, and you can feel the air shift…it's dark, the moon is out and the ocean breeze caresses your hair. You're still in your bikini— and he tugs on the sting of the bottom piece. It's such an innocent act, his attention is on you completely and you know that. You enjoy flustering him by brushing your fingers against his cheek, kissing his nose or playfully ruffling his hair, revelling in the way he stammers for words, something that rarely happens to the ever-confident Gojo Satoru. 

But— even amidst all the teasing, you never hesitate to lend him a helping hand when he needs it— not that he does— whether it's in a battle against curses or simply providing a listening ear when he's troubled. Your flirty and hot persona never overshadows the genuine care and concern you have for him. He's your best friend, after all and you were more obsessed with him that he could ever know.

As the night deepens, you find yourselves sitting closer together, your knees almost touching. You gaze deeply into his pretty eyes, your heart pounding loudly in your chest— you just have to say something you can't do this. You can't hide this anymore. "You know, my gem," you say softly, "you have the most captivating eyes I've ever seen. They're like galaxies, filled with endless wonders. I could never get tired of them."

Gojo seems taken aback by your straightforward compliment, but he can't help but be enchanted by your sincerity. "And you have a way with words," he replies, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "You always leave me speechless."

Smiling, you lean in closer until your faces are mere inches apart. "I've got a question for you," you whisper, your breath mingling with his.

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Ask away." But you didn't know what to say, your mind blanked out and you didn't know what to say. He knows though, he knows, so he closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender and passionate kiss. It's so weird because you never imagined that Gojo Satoru would accept your feelings. You never imagined that this man, this god before you would fall for you. He lets out a breathy whimper, and the moment it reaches your ears you could feel yourself grow weak and you collapse into his arms, hands buried in his hair as he grabs your waist. The moment is everything you fantasised about and more. In your dreams he was more dominating but here he's soft and tender. Your heart soars as you realize that your feelings are truly reciprocated, and you revel in the newfound joy that fills both your hearts. You have always admired Gojo Satoru, but now you have something even more special – a deep and passionate connection that goes beyond friendship. When you finally pull away it's silent. "Fuck— I just— this is…God you're so pretty."

"And you're so handsome."

"Oh baby I know, but you? You are just out of this world." He makes you smile, and he leans in to kiss your cheek, then your chin, along your jaw, your ear—

"(Y/n), I want to be your one and only."

"You already are."

…