#gojo is one of the only people i will ever ramble about to this down bad degree | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

colonelarr0w · 8 months ago

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After a particularly rough day, how do these JJK characters offer their comfort?

INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

SATORU is more than happy to gather you in his arms and let you lay there. To him, there's no greater comfort than you laying in his arms, your head tucked perfectly underneath his chin with one hand tangled in your hair and the other tracing mindless shapes into the exposed skin of your back. He'd let you ramble about what made your day so terrible and offer little hums between your sentences – never once interrupting you or making you feel as if he wasn't listening. He would only offer his advice if you wanted it, and even then it was the most heartfelt words he'd ever spoken to you.

"I'm here for you sweet thing. Just let it all out, okay? Don't want you holding anything in."

SUGURU makes it his personal mission to take your mind off of whatever might have bothered you throughout the course of your day. When you return home, the first thing that he notices is your dulled mood – how your eyes focus on anything but him and how you try your hardest to hide the growing tremble to your lips. He doesn't draw attention to it, not wanting to accidentally upset you further. Instead he just pulls you into the living room, where he's set up a small fort for just the two of you; complete with your favorite snacks and drinks, as well as a movie that you had mentioned enjoying.

"I know you've had a tough day angel, but you're here now with me. Come on, make yourself comfy."

KENTO's comfort is the personification of a warm hug paired with gentle, featherlight kisses. He cradles you in his arms for however long you need, rocking your bodies back and forth, his chest rumbling in a gentle hum against the skin of your cheek. He'll guide you to sit down, fingers interlocking with your own as his softened eyes scan over your twisted expression, beautiful features scrunched up in sadness. He'll kiss away the tears as they trickle down your cheeks, offering you words of comfort that he wished he had heard during his moments of need.

"Come now darling, don't cry. I'm right here with you, everything is going to be alright."

TOJI is at first very arrogant, smirking down at you and bluntly pointing out the tears that you're trying so desperately to keep hidden from his gaze. But when he sees that the events of your day had truly left you shaken and unhappy, he's tugging you to his chest and hiding you away from the world. The entirety of your body is dwarfed by his massive frame, face squished into his chest as he leans back on the couch, tugging you over him like a weighted blanket. He says absolutely nothing as you keep yourself hidden away, but he doesn't miss the feeling of your tears as they fall delicately onto his skin. Only when you lift your head to glance up at him does he thumb away your tears — hushing you with a softness that not even he knew that he was capable of.

"Alright kid, you're okay. 'm right here with ya, shh."

CHOSO sits silently with you, both of you simply sitting in the silence that your sadness provides. His fingers are folded together with your own, the pad of his thumb swiping against the back of your knuckle every now and then – another silent reminder that he was there with you. No words need to be exchanged, not that he would mind if you spoke. If you'd rather talk, he will gladly listen. And if not, he's more than okay with sitting beside you, allowing your body to rest against his own. Your head is laid against his shoulder, fingers interlocked, and for a moment, nothing else in the world truly matters.

"'m here, you don't need to be upset anymore."

RYOMEN might not know how to comfort people, but somehow, he figures it out quickly the moment that he sees you curling away from his touch. The tears that adorn your waterline are not a foreign sight to him, but that doesn't mean that he ever wants to see that expression on your face. He doesn't offer you words of comfort, after all, his tongue was sharp and made of silver – it likely would do more harm if he were to open his jaw. Instead, he offers to you a softness that had only ever been reserved for you anyway. He'll let you lay beside him, sharpened fingernails scraping through your hair just like you did for him on those nights where he pretended to be asleep. He may not be the best at comforting, but to you, his presence was warmth personified – a warmth that you needed to combat the coldness of your day.

"Tch, shut up and let me do this for you … little brat."

HIROMI grants you the space that you need to process whatever it is you may be feeling. He'll sit quietly outside of the closed bedroom or bathroom door, simply resting his head against the wall and listening to the softened sniffles that you're trying your best to keep locked within your chest. The moment that the door slides open and you sit quietly at his side, he wraps you up in his arms and allows you to sob into him. Please let everything out in his arms, the last thing that he wants is for you to wake later in the night with your body debilitated by sadness that you had accidentally left to fester. He wants you to know that he is there for you, and if holding you is the way to go about it, then he will happily let his arms go numb for your sake.

"There, there my love. You've nothing to waste your tears over … I'm here, you're safe."

INO is initially silent when you return home distraught after a tough day, but the moment that you sit beside him and let out that heavy sigh that says “I’m exhausted”, he is wrapping you up in a thickened blanket and rushing around the apartment like a chicken devoid of a head. He piles snacks and drinks onto the coffee table and shuffles through the drawer that is filled to the brim with various DVDs. He holds up various options, feeling his heart sink further and further into his stomach at your lack of an answer. After talking to a brick wall, he decides to just sit in silence with you, hugging you against him and deciding that — maybe — a nap was all that you needed.

“You comfortable sweetheart? Oh … okay, okay. ‘m here, just rest, yeah?”

YUUTA offers to walk around Jujutsu Tech with you after finding out about how terrible your day had been, smiling at you and taking both of your hands into his own. He even tells Rika to leave him undisturbed for a few hours, directing all of his attention to you. The silence of your walk is filled with your ramblings about your day, complaints about Gojo, worries about upcoming missions, anything and everything that might be bothering you. He’ll offer advice where it’s needed, cracking jokes if the situation calls for it — but his main focus is being there, being the ear that you so desperately need.

“I’m sorry angel, I wish that there was more that I could do. But I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

INUMAKI is the king of distracting you when you’re upset, opening his dorm up to you and allowing you to hide away in it as if you had spent your entire life living there. He silences his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on you and the things that you want to do in order to take your mind off of whatever had happened prior to seeing him. He’ll offer you the second controller and go easy on you, allowing you to beat him and rub it into his face — eyes crinkling in a loving smile as the spark returns to your expression and body language.

“Tuna mayo. (I love you).”

YUUJI is on the verge of tears when he sees your pained expression, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a bone-crushing embrace. He tucks you into his arms, his heart clenching in his chest as you sob into him. His hands rub up and down the length of your back, cheek resting against the top of your head as he shushes you — wanting you to calm down enough so that he could try and help you. He does his best to hold back his own tears, but your sadness is his own, and seeing you so distraught was only making him feel worse and worse by the second. But he hopes that his hug is enough to remind you that he's there with you … and that he was never leaving.

"Shhh baby, I'm here! I'm right here with you, you're okay … please don't cry."

MEGUMI almost immediately brings out his Divine Dogs at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks – knowing that the dogs would work wonders in bringing you comfort. He sits quietly beside you on the couch, not daring to utter a word as you thread your fingers through the thick fur of one of the dogs, smiling tearfully as it nuzzles affectionately into your hand. He doesn’t say anything to you, nor does he offer any kind of reaction when you shift your body to lean comfortably against him. He wraps his arms firmly around you, resting his chin on top of your head and letting out a small sigh through his nose. He may be the silent type — but his silence cuts through your sadness like a burning knife. It’s comforting … and just so undoubtedly him.

“Is this okay? Alright … I’m here for you, I hope you know that.”

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s4kura-tr3 · 4 days ago

Note

Could you make a crybaby reader with JJK men? Like just an overly sensitive/nice reader? It’s okay if not! Have a good day!

Sensitive!

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji

Gojo Satoru

Gojo Satoru never meant to upset you—he rarely ever did. But today, his usual playful teasing hit you harder than usual.

You were sitting on the couch together, scrolling through your phone while he flipped lazily through the channels on the TV. Out of nowhere, Gojo chuckled and said, “You know, you’re so dramatic sometimes. It’s kinda cute, but it’s like everything’s the end of the world for you.”

You froze, his words hitting a nerve. Dramatic. That’s how people had dismissed your feelings for years. You tried to brush it off, but your chest tightened, and your vision blurred slightly as you blinked back tears.

Gojo didn’t notice at first, still flipping channels and humming to himself. But when you didn’t respond with your usual witty comeback, he glanced over and saw your downturned face.

“Wait,�� he said, sitting up immediately. “Did I say something wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check.

“Hey,” he said more gently now, setting the remote down. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Finally, you looked at him, your voice quiet. “You called me dramatic. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? It’s like every time I feel something, people just… dismiss me.”

Gojo’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Oh no. No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” he said, scooting closer to you on the couch. “I wasn’t trying to dismiss you. I swear, I just—ugh, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

You didn’t reply, still feeling the sting of his words.

Gojo reached for your hands, holding them in his warm, large ones. “I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You’re not dramatic. You just feel things deeply, and I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things about you, actually. You care so much, and that’s rare. Honestly, I wish I was more like you sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I mean it,” he continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t a good thing. It is. You’re amazing, and I’m lucky you put up with my dumb jokes.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, despite your lingering hurt. “You really think that?”

Gojo grinned, his usual playful energy returning as he kissed your knuckles. “I think you’re perfect. And I’m perfectly terrible at saying things the right way. Forgive me?”

You sighed, the weight in your chest easing. “Okay. But maybe think before you speak next time?”

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll even let you pick the movie tonight as a peace offering. But only if it’s not boring.”

You laughed softly, and just like that, Gojo had you smiling again, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

Geto Suguru

It was late in the evening, and you and Geto Suguru were sitting together in a cozy café. He had insisted on taking you out to unwind after a long week, and for a while, the warm atmosphere and his gentle company had done just that. But then, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

You were talking about a project you’d been working on—how much effort you’d put into it and how nervous you were about how it would turn out. Somewhere in the middle of your rambling, Geto chuckled softly and said, “You really overthink things sometimes, don’t you?”

His tone was light, and you knew he didn’t mean it maliciously, but the comment stopped you in your tracks. Your heart sank, and your chest tightened as those familiar insecurities reared their heads. You looked down at your tea, your appetite for conversation disappearing.

Geto immediately noticed the shift in your mood. He tilted his head, his dark eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, leaning closer.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “Did I say something wrong?”

You hesitated, but his steady gaze encouraged you to speak. “It’s just… when you said I overthink things. I know I do, okay? I hear it all the time, and I hate that about myself. It feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough, and people just see me as… too much.”

Geto’s expression shifted immediately, a flicker of regret crossing his face. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity.

You looked away, but he gently reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. “Listen to me,” he said, his tone warm and steady. “I wasn’t trying to say that in a bad way. I know you overthink because you care. You care so much about everything, and that’s not a flaw—it’s a strength.”

You blinked at him, his words catching you off guard.

“You put your whole heart into what you do, and yeah, sometimes it makes you nervous or unsure, but that’s only because you want things to be perfect,” he continued. “And honestly? That’s one of the things I admire most about you. I could never think of that as a bad thing.”

The tightness in your chest began to ease as his words sank in. “You really mean that?” you asked softly.

Geto smiled gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Of course I do. And I’m sorry if what I said made you feel like I didn’t. I’ll be more careful with my words next time.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

He chuckled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to remind you how amazing you are when you forget.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and the tension that had settled between you melted away.

“Now,” he said, his tone lightening as he leaned back in his chair, “how about I make it up to you with dessert? I hear they’ve got a mean matcha cheesecake here.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Always,” he said with a playful smirk, raising his hand to call for the waiter.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento had had an exhausting day. Every step he took up the stairs to your shared apartment felt heavier than the last, and all he wanted was to come home, see you, and let the warmth of your presence melt away the stress.

When he opened the door, you greeted him with your usual enthusiasm, rushing over to pull him into a tight hug. “Kento! You’re home!” you exclaimed, your excitement practically radiating off you.

He managed a small smile and placed a hand on your back, but the weight of his day still hung over him. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice tired.

You didn’t seem to notice his exhaustion as you began talking a mile a minute. “I missed you! You won’t believe the day I had—oh, and guess what? I tried that recipe you love, and I think it turned out amazing! Oh, and Louis did the funniest thing today—”

“Can you give me a second?” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.

The room fell silent, and the warmth in your expression dimmed instantly. You stepped back, your arms falling to your sides. “Oh,” you said softly. “Sorry.”

Nanami immediately felt a pang of regret as he saw the hurt in your eyes. You weren’t upset because he was tired—you were upset because he’d made you feel like your excitement didn’t matter to him.

You turned away, mumbling something about letting him settle in, but he quickly reached out and gently grabbed your hand. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer now.

You hesitated, looking at him but avoiding his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault I had a hard day. I… I was looking forward to seeing you all day, and then I let my frustration get in the way.”

You blinked, your lips trembling slightly. “I just wanted to make you happy,” you admitted quietly.

“And you do,” he said immediately, stepping closer to you. “You’re the best part of my day. Always.”

Your eyes met his then, searching his face for the truth in his words. His expression was soft, full of remorse and affection.

“I don’t deserve to have you greet me with so much love after the way I acted,” he said, gently pulling you into his arms. “But I promise I’ll do better. You’re everything to me, and I should have treated you like it.”

You rested your forehead against his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I just got too excited,” you murmured.

“And I love that about you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your excitement, your energy—it’s what makes this place feel like home. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve.”

For a moment, you stood there in his embrace, his warmth and steady heartbeat easing the lingering hurt.

“Do you want to sit down and tell me about your day?” he asked after a moment, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I want to hear everything.”

You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile creeping onto your face. “Okay. But only if you let me heat up dinner for you first.”

He chuckled softly. “Deal. But don’t rush—just being here with you is enough.”

And as you led him to the table, the weight of his day began to lift, replaced by the comfort of knowing he was home—with you.

Toji fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t the type to watch his words. His bluntness was just part of who he was—sharp, quick, and sometimes careless. Most of the time, you brushed it off, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt you. But tonight, it cut deeper than usual.

The two of you were in the kitchen after dinner. You were putting away dishes, humming softly, while Toji leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching you.

“I’ve been thinking about trying something new,” you said, your tone excited. “Like a cooking class or maybe painting—something creative. I think it could be fun.”

Toji grunted in response, not looking up from the dish he was drying.

You hesitated but kept going, trying to draw him into the conversation. “What do you think? Would you want to try something like that with me?”

Toji sighed and set the dish down a little too hard, the sound making you flinch. “You don’t stick with stuff like that, do you?” he said, his voice flat. “You get all excited and then drop it a week later. What’s the point?”

You froze, his words hitting harder than you expected. You knew he had a point—sometimes you did lose interest in things quickly. But hearing him say it so bluntly, so dismissively, made your chest tighten.

“I…” Your voice wavered as you set the plate in your hands on the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to do something together.”

Toji finally looked up, his brows furrowing when he saw the way your shoulders slumped. “Hey, don’t get all upset about it,” he said, his tone softening, but it didn’t help.

“I’m not upset,” you said quickly, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. “I just… never mind.”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were already welling up, but Toji wasn’t one to let things go.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now as he stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, but when you tried to brush past him, he caught your wrist gently.

“Look at me,” he said firmly, his tone still low but insistent. You hesitated, and when you finally met his gaze, he could see the hurt in your eyes.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his grip on your wrist loosening. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You didn’t have to say it at all,” you whispered. “You make me feel like I’m… not good at anything.”

Toji’s jaw tightened, guilt flashing across his face. He wasn’t good at this—at saying the right things or fixing mistakes—but he hated seeing you like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.

“You’re good at plenty of things,” he said, his tone softer now. “And… I’m an idiot for saying that to you. I wasn’t trying to put you down. I just… I don’t know how to say things without sounding like a jerk sometimes.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cooking class or whatever. And I’d do it with you if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to just say that,” you murmured.

“I’m not just saying it,” he said, stepping closer until he could wrap his arms around you. “You’re trying to do something fun, and instead of supporting you, I ran my mouth like an idiot. I’m sorry.”

His arms around you were warm and steady, and you could feel the sincerity in the way he held you.

“You’d really go with me?” you asked, your voice still small.

“Yeah,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Even if I suck at it, I’d go. For you.”

Your lips quirked up into a small smile, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “Okay,” you said softly, leaning into his chest.

Toji smirked, holding you a little tighter. “Good. But don’t expect me to wear an apron or anything. That’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed, the sound lightening the room, and he sighed in relief, grateful to see your smile again.

Sukuna Ryomen

The Heian era was a time of beauty and chaos, and life with Sukuna Ryomen was no exception. Known as the King of Curses, Sukuna was feared across the land, but to you, he was something else entirely. His presence, though intimidating, had always been a source of strange comfort. However, his sharp tongue often betrayed him, and tonight was one of those nights.

You had spent the entire day crafting something special—a delicate embroidered cloth featuring patterns of crimson and gold, colors you knew he favored. Each stitch was precise, your fingers aching by the time you finished, but the thought of presenting it to Sukuna filled you with anticipation.

When you brought the finished piece to him that evening, you entered his chambers with cautious excitement, kneeling before him as he sat on his throne-like dais. “My lord,” you began softly, holding out the cloth, “I made this for you. I thought you might like it.”

Sukuna’s four crimson eyes flicked to the offering, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his tone as sharp as ever.

“You spent all day on this?” he said, his voice laced with disdain. “What use do I have for something so… trivial?”

The words hit you harder than you anticipated. You had poured your heart into the gift, hoping to please him, and now your efforts felt meaningless. You lowered your hands, clutching the cloth tightly as your vision blurred with tears you desperately tried to hold back.

“I… I just wanted to give you something,” you murmured, your voice trembling.

Sukuna’s brows furrowed at the shift in your tone. He could sense your emotions as clearly as the tension in the air, and the sight of you so visibly upset stirred something in him—something he wasn’t used to feeling.

“Tch,” he muttered, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Why are you crying? I didn’t tell you to do something like this.”

You shook your head, your voice breaking. “I know. I just… I thought it would make you happy.”

Sukuna let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t good at this—at softening his edges. But seeing you like this unsettled him in a way that battles and curses never could

“Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but quieter now.

Reluctantly, you raised your eyes to meet his. His gaze wasn’t as harsh as before, and for a moment, the room felt less heavy.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I’m not good with… things like this.” He gestured vaguely at the cloth in your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “You… you do?”

“Yes,” he said, almost impatiently, but his tone lacked its usual edge. “I’m just not someone who knows how to handle… thoughtful gestures. But that doesn’t mean they’re wasted on me.”

You blinked, the sting of his earlier words starting to fade. “I just wanted to give you something that reminded you of… us. Of me.”

Sukuna’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “And you think I could forget you?”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and he chuckled lowly, clearly pleased with your reaction. He reached out, taking the cloth from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“It’s well-made,” he admitted, running his thumb over the intricate stitching. “Better than I expected.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and Sukuna leaned back, his gaze softening just slightly. “Next time, don’t exhaust yourself for my sake,” he said. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” you said softly, your earlier sadness melting away.

“You do,” he replied, his voice quiet but steady. “Even without this.”

The warmth in his words made your heart ache in the best way, and as he set the cloth aside carefully, you knew that, in his own way, Sukuna was trying.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi Fushiguro was in a foul mood. Gojo had been pestering him all day—constant teasing, unnecessary tasks, and endless comments that pushed his patience to the brink. By the time he walked through the door, his mind was racing, and he felt like he was ready to snap at anything that moved.

You had been waiting for him to come home, your excitement bubbling as you thought about sharing the small surprise you’d planned for him: his favorite snacks arranged neatly on the coffee table and a cozy spot on the couch waiting for him to relax.

When he walked in, you greeted him with a bright smile. “Megumi! Welcome home! I set up—”

“Can you just give me a second?” he snapped, not even looking up as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag with more force than necessary.

You froze, startled by the sharpness of his tone. “Oh… I didn’t mean to bother you,” you said softly, your voice already trembling slightly.

Megumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about you, okay? I just need some space.”

Your chest tightened at his words. He didn’t even glance at the effort you’d put into making his evening better. The snacks, the cozy setup—it all felt meaningless now. “I just wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away, your shoulders slumping.

The sound of your soft, hurt tone stopped Megumi in his tracks. He looked up and finally noticed the care you’d put into the room—the snacks, the cozy setting, and the clear effort to make him feel better. Guilt hit him like a wave.

“Wait,” he said, his voice gentler now as he stepped closer to you. “I… I’m sorry.”

You didn’t turn to face him, your hands nervously fiddling with your sleeves. “It’s fine,” you said, though the crack in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It’s not fine,” Megumi said, his tone firm but remorseful. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening. “I was just trying to make you feel better,” you murmured, “but if you don’t want me here, I can—”

“No,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please.”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “It’s been a rough day, and I let my frustration get the better of me. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were trying to do something nice for me, and I acted like an idiot.”

You stared at him for a moment, his rare vulnerability catching you off guard. “You mean that?”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer and gently taking your hand. “I see what you did here. It’s thoughtful, and it means a lot to me. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

Your lips trembled as a small smile broke through. “I just wanted you to relax after your day.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Let me make it up to you.”

You hesitated before nodding, letting him guide you to the couch. As the two of you sat together, Megumi reached for one of the snacks you’d prepared, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly, glancing at you.

“For what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“For being patient with me,” he said. “And for always knowing how to make things better—even when I don’t deserve it.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned against him, letting the tension of the evening fade away. Megumi might not always get it right, but moments like this reminded you why you loved him so much.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori wasn’t the type to snap at people—he was always upbeat, kind, and quick to laugh things off. But after a long day of missions, training, and dealing with the stress of being Sukuna’s vessel, he’d finally managed to steal a rare moment of relaxation, engrossed in a video game he’d been trying to beat for weeks.

You, excited to share some news with him, entered the room without realizing how deeply focused he was. “Yuji! Guess what happened today?” you said cheerfully, walking over to him.

“Not now,” he muttered, his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the controller.

You hesitated, unsure if he’d heard you properly. “It’ll only take a second! You won’t believe—”

“I said not now!” he snapped, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard before.

The sudden harshness of his voice made you stop in your tracks. Your excitement vanished, replaced with a sinking feeling in your chest. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before mumbling, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Your voice was so soft, Yuji almost didn’t catch it. But when he heard the hurt in your tone and turned to see the way your expression had fallen, his stomach twisted with guilt.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean—” he started, but you were already backing away. “I’ll just… leave you alone,” you said quietly, heading toward the door.

Yuji quickly paused the game and jumped to his feet. “Wait! Don’t go!”

You stopped but didn’t turn around, your arms crossed tightly as if trying to protect yourself from the sting of his words.

Yuji rubbed the back of his neck, his face filled with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was really uncool of me.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t think it would make you so mad…”

“I wasn’t mad at you,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I was just so caught up in the game, and I got frustrated. But that’s not an excuse. You didn’t deserve that.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should say anything, and Yuji reached out, gently touching your arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really, really sorry. You’re way more important to me than some stupid game.”

His words made your heart ache in the best way, and you finally turned to face him fully. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, giving you that familiar, boyish grin that made it hard to stay upset. “Tell me what happened today. I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to interrupt…” you trailed off.

Yuji shook his head quickly. “Forget the game. I want to spend time with you.”

The sincerity in his voice melted away the last of your hurt, and you let yourself smile again. As you started sharing your story, Yuji sat beside you, listening intently, determined to make up for his mistake.

And when you laughed at one of his playful comments, Yuji silently promised himself to never let a moment like that happen again. You were his safe place, his reason to smile, and no game—or anything else—could ever compare.

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churipu · 1 year ago

Note

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

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elsecrytt · 1 month ago

Text

Your Heart is Spilling out, Babe

Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader

Summary: You and Satoru are friends with benefits. No feelings, that was the agreement from the start. Neither of you want anything more. Even if you did, it wouldn’t work out, anyways. Not that you care if it would.

Tags: fwb, smut, angst, YEARNING, requited unrequited feelings (or ARE they) but jk it’s totally no feelings, commitment/abandonment issues, not that it matters because you totally don’t have feelings anyways

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” He asks, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

A hum. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

“What a coincidence,” he lays down next to you, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

You don’t say anything more, eyes already closed.

Satoru’s arm presses your form against his, just barely.

When he wakes up, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.

He leaves.

At first, Satoru tries to tell himself it’s a happy coincidence.

After all, isn’t it? His problem has always been the women (and men) who give him a certain kind of look before he gets up to leave.

The ones who text him back first, who read everything instantly, who always want to meet up again. The ones who always, inevitably, start to want something more.

Like him giving them the fuck of a lifetime with someone who could be a real-life supermodel and happens to be the greatest sorcerer on earth wasn’t enough. Granted, they don’t know about the sorcerer thing, but still!

It always turns out like this:

Things are good for a while. Sex is good, he gets attention when he texts them, they both understand this is totally casual, no commitment.

Sometimes he even brings up another hookup he’s going to, just to drive the point home, and he cheers them on when they’re getting some somewhere else, too.

(He’s got no reason to be insecure, after all. He would be anyone’s first choice.)

From there, he can admit some of it is his fault. It’s hard, being as irresistible as he is. Being so devastatingly good-looking and even better in bed.

Having so much humor and personality in his amazing texts (never mind that most of them just react with an emoji or a short haha or an unrelated compliment – he drinks it all up just the same).

They start to text him first, which is impressive, considering what a spammer he is. He likes to text them to fill his time, to talk to someone, have his notifications filled with messages of people who want him.

So what if it’s an ego boost? Isn’t that what they’re using him for, too?

But when they start texting him themselves, when they return his style of badgering, it’s not random and rambling. It’s affectionate, personal. They’ve gotten attached, and they want him to be, too.

It’s all nonsense like Saw this and thought of you, and You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, and I want to meet up again soon.

He has to stop spamming with memes or selfies or random observations throughout his day, stop talking about shops or cafes he’d like to visit. Sometimes he has to mute their notifications, because when he spams other people, they feel comfortable spamming him.

And then it’s just a matter of how long he spends lying to himself. Because as much of an ass as he is, it’s cruel to let them get attached to him when he can’t really open up entirely. When he doesn’t want anything serious.

In fairness, he had told them from the start. He usually breaks it off only after a few days. He always sends them a message and just blocks them – it’s cleaner that way.

Answering any desperate Please, we can still be friends or No, let’s just hook up again, would give them hope for things he can’t give them.

But you?

You text him You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met, and leave him on read for two days.

Satoru thinks he’s in love.

Not literally, of course, but in love with the relationship he has with you, which is perfect.

Everything about it is perfect, except for that it’s not going on all the time.

You respond to his memes with your own. Chat with him about cafes and desserts and even keep a handful at your home to treat him with. You text him cat pictures, sometimes return selfies if he’s lucky.

Usually he gets those when he sends the thirst pics, sitting there with a grin that scares Ichiji, absolutely giddy as he watches you type, stop typing – he knows you’re looking for something special to send him back.

It’s surprising, how well he just knows things about you. Maybe that was to be expected, though, with your chemistry.

Sex with you is like nothing he’s ever felt before.

You have this way of tensing up, expression shifting as you’re right about to cum – he thinks by now he’s conditioned by it, that just seeing you make that face could get him over the edge.

He’s fucked hot people before but no one like you. Seeing the same clothes from your cute little selfies slip off, it’s like unwrapping a present he can’t wait to eat up. Makes him salivate like a box of chocolates, like the one truffle package you got one time and made him eat on his knees with his head in your lap, out of your hands.

Fucking you is one of his favorite things ever, right up there with kikufuku and making fun of his coworkers (and students!). You’re a beautiful bend of reactive and pliant, so fun to tease and edge and so rewarding to please.

God, fuck, he wants you. He wants you all the time. All his other hookups are silenced in favor of you, boring conversations abandoned in favor of debating tiramisu and tres leches, and all other sorts of inane things.

What your favorite school subjects are, oddly enough (he supposes he was asking for it, telling you he taught high schoolers).

You like literature, he likes math, and when he hears you talk about it, he almost wants to read some of those novels you like so much. Non-sorcerer politics has never meant anything to him but it matters when he hears you talk about it.

It’s like hearing about a whole separate world with its own struggles. Your opinions are so well-thought out, he can tell just how much you care, and something hums along aside him as he asks questions, nods his head, really listens to what you have to say. It feels so surreal to hear someone whose goals are not so unlike his, when he thinks about it.

Maybe that’s where some of this fondness comes from. Maybe it’s humbling, thinking you want to change your world just as much as he wants to change his, and the only difference is how much people listen.

He can’t imagine not wanting to listen to you. People should listen more. You should run everything, he jokes.

(He’s joking. He’s joking. You don’t know enough to get why he says that twice.)

And then it’s not serious again – when was it ever, really? You talk about your favorite manga and anime and tease each other for your tastes. Maybe talk about episodes or movies you’ve seen together.

He’s admittedly a bit of a movie buff – it’s a real victory when he convinces you to watch one of his old favorites. When he finds out you watched it, he’s excited the whole day to hear what you thought.

You debate what animals you would be; you are definitely a cat – aloof and independent – and you’re quite insistent that he’d be a husky, energetic and annoying and – probably other words you say before he sends you a picture of his dick and you facetime him with some more interesting conversation.

Your days – weeks, months, really – they go on like that, they’re great. Everything is perfect, really.

So when he hears you casually mention you’ve got other dinner plans – when his mind instantly supplies we’re just casual, tease her and hope she gets lucky – the wretched, dark twist in his gut is wholly unexpected.

And he knows instantly. Immediately, really, because he’s just too smart not to.

He knows he doesn’t want you going out with other people. Touching them. Showing them the same faces you show him.

But if he wants you to be his, then he has to ask. And you – you make him wait to hear back.

You never reach out to him first. You open the door with a cool expression, like your heart doesn’t race at the sight of him like his does (he can see it is, he can see it, but his soul is withering at your look like you couldn’t care less).

Satoru doesn’t usually have to ask, not for anything.

People beg to be able to fuck him. They spam when he ghosts them, begging for scraps. He doesn’t have to ask for attention, people shower him in it.

Everyone wants him. They love him. They don’t abandon him along with all their morals and tell him to kill them if he doesn’t like it.

They beg him to stay, and he is the one who leaves.

He’s too much for them. Too much for anyone. You wouldn’t be able to hand him, anyways.

And he can leave any time he wants, he just… doesn’t want to.

(He never wants to leave. He wants it to stay like this, forever. But when does it ever turn out like that?)

Besides, you’re – you also want it to stay casual. Like he told you from the beginning. Probably trying to save your feelings from getting hurt – and can he blame you? Really, with his looks, anyone would be scared to lose him.

So this was just… a happy coincidence. You didn’t want it serious, he didn’t want it, either.

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

Satoru’s lip twitches, but it doesn’t manage a smile. It almost feels like you’re kicking him out.

But he knows you’re not, because even if you were the one person on earth who could resist his irresistible charm, he just gave you some absolutely mind-blowing sex.

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru teases, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

He says it playfully, casually, because it is casual. It wouldn’t bother him if you told him to fuck off right then and there. It wouldn’t.

You hum noncommittally. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

If he’s relieved that he can stay, it’s because he’s as exhausted as you are. Because you make him feel good, so fucking good, like he’s on top of the world. Having to leave would just be a mood killer.

“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

He is not and never has been. He sleeps three hours a night wakes up by 5am.

It’s never bothered him before. His dreams are not a place he wants to be. But they’ve never hurt him when you were there.

He wraps an arm around you, holding you against him, just barely. Not too tight.

You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.

When he wakes, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.

The thing is, you’re awake. He knows that. You’re a light sleeper. Always have been.

He knows you hate morning showers yourself, and always do it at night. Knows what you like for breakfast, how to make it. That you like to sleep in because you have trouble sleeping.

He knows what you think about late at night because you text him about it, because he’s always there texting you, because neither of you can sleep and someone ends up calling and whispering secret scattered thoughts in hushed tones and –

And he honestly doesn’t know, if it’s you or him that slips in the I want to touch you right now, or Want me to kiss it better. Who turns it into sex so things can’t get to be too much.

Satoru would really, really like to think that it’s him, but the truth is that he’s reaching the limit of how believable his lies are, even to himself.

He knows, he knows he knows he knows that if he stayed, you would let him –

(If he repeats it enough it will surely become true.)

– but you both agreed no feelings.

Besides, it’s not like he wants to stay, anyways.

(Why won’t you ask him to come back?)

You know what Satoru is the moment you meet him. It’s not like he’s made any secret of it, either.

A whore. A man-whore, if you will. A player. Whatever it is. He slept with people, drank in all the sex and attention and then went on his merry way.

You get it. This wasn’t the first time you’d met a pretty boy who fucked around, not by a long shot.

He says all casual, no feelings, you smile and nod, and you go back to his place fully expecting to be disappointed because pretty boys usually suck in bed.

And then he fucks you within an inch of your life.

He eats you like a man staved. Hands roving over your skin, groping and squeezing in a way that would be violating, if his beautiful eyes weren’t wild and desperate.

His body is toned and smooth and perfect, unmarred skin that he presses to yours like he’s trying to staunch the bleeding of some invisible wound.

You’ve never felt like this before. Sex has never been this amazing. He props his stupid pretty face up on his elbow and he gives you that stupid charming boyish smirk and asks you if you want to go another round, red-faced and eager. It’s overwhelming and exciting and amazing –

And it’s terrifying, because it’s always like this for him, isn’t it? He just came in and gave you the fuck of a lifetime, but this is just another lay for him.

(But he’s having fun. It’s good for him, too. So why don’t you take what you can get?)

So when he saves his number in your phone, That was awesome, babe, we should do this again sometime, you don’t put a lot of weight into his words. You roll his eyes when he blows you a kiss goodbye, but you don’t delete his number.

Even when he wakes you up with some silly cat meme (god, you hate morning people), somehow you find yourself smiling. You let him know he can get his dick sucked any time if he meows cute enough and woah, maybe you’re coming on too strong –

He sends you an attachment of himself wearing cat ears, striking an obnoxious pose, with a fake tail that he holds by the end in his mouth.

Satoru Gojo, that’s the name. And you do suck his dick, like you promised, but he comes to you determined to get in character, meowing at you, pressing his face into your hands, rubbing into your side, nuzzling your panties while he looks up into your face with a smirk.

It’s a fight to get him on his back and his legs open wide enough for you to settle in. He meows again like a kitty, and purrs like one too when you take his cock into your mouth, hands threading through your hair. Giggling at his own antics.

Your eyes water when you take him, deep, moaning and feeling him shudder at the feeling, long legs squirming on either side of you. He pulls away suddenly, with a pop, laughing when his dick hits the side of your face and you glare at him. Sticking out his tongue.

He looks so young. So heartbreakingly sweet and charming. He pulls you in to settle you on his cock, face-to-face this time, his smile melting into something soft and tacky, sticking to your lips as he kisses his precum away. Infectious delight.

Satoru holds your hands in his, palm to palm, as you ride him in his lap. Face tilted up to look at you with a blush on his cheeks. Blue eyes wide like they have to be, to take you in, as if they aren’t themselves oceans you have to stop yourself from falling into.

You can’t look into his eyes when you cum, when he cums. You’re not sure if he’s looking either.

But you feel him, oh, do you feel him – hands squeezing yours as if in warning, face buried into your neck, a moan that vibrates throughout the both of you.

When you wake up, the next morning, you don’t even mind the fact that he’s still next to you, cuddled up, right beside you. You don’t mind, until you feel him stiffen suddenly, like he’s realized you’re awake, immediately pulling away.

That’s… you’re not sure what it is, since cuddling was obviously okay, so why does he not want to do it while you’re awake? It is too close? Too intimate?

He’d held your hands while he stared deep into your eyes and rocked gently into you last night, but cuddling would be too intimate?

But he smiles that smile before he leaves, stumbling a little bit while he gets dressed, in that goofy way that lanky tall men sometimes do. You even overlook the fact that he’s renamed himself in your contacts. ~ Satoru ~ My Kitten.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid (you’re smiling already), unbearable man. You want to hit him in the face, with your face. Very hard.

Casually, of course. It’s casual between you. No feelings at all.

But then he starts texting you all the time. He double, triple, quadruple texts, with the infuriating shamelessness of someone who’s never been ignored in his life.

Like he’s never worried that the other person is losing interest. He carries himself like it, too, like he knows everyone wants him, and unfortunately, he’s right.

So you tell him he’s annoying and you don’t look at your phone again. Not until he shows up on your doorstep with that pout on his impossibly pretty face.

And you don’t turn him away. Why would you? If he’s going to offer himself on a platter, why not eat up?

You’re just being realistic here. If you fucked him once and never heard from it again, it would still hurt almost as much as it will now. You’ll just be a little lonelier without your texting partner, but you’ll get over it.

There’s other fish in the sea. Even if none of them are as pretty as him, none of them make them laugh like you do. You’re not exclusive. He can see other people, so can you. You’ve made it a point not to ask.

You don’t like what he’s doing now. How he pauses long, makes you wait before telling you to have fun on your date.

How the next time you see him there’s something strange in his eyes, something that leaves him with clawing hands, hungry mouth, eager to leave his marks all over you.

Satoru doesn’t stop texting you, doesn’t stop selfies, thirst traps, prodding little questions and jokes, doesn’t stop obnoxiously demanding (begging?) for your attention.

At first it was an ego boost. Now, it’s terrifying.

Because now he likes you, doesn’t he? He’s interested now. Having fun. Making you feel like he’s jealous, acting like he’s on withdrawal if he goes too long without you, making you feel like someone as beautiful and rich and funny as him could possibly be in love with you.

But he told you in the beginning. Something casual.

Maybe these feelings are real in the moment. But one day they’ll fade, and everything will be yanked right out from under you.

You’ll wonder why he’s getting distant these days. You’ll remember that you never made it official, and sweat over the possibility that he’s seeing someone else. At the end of the day that’s all you’ll be able to do; worry and worry while you’re too afraid to ask.

You’ll wonder what you did wrong. What you did to lose him. How you could go from someone so fascinating, someone he so thoroughly adored and fucked like he was making love, to an afterthought and a stranger, unless you did something wrong? Unless you made a mistake, somewhere along the line?

The mistake of getting attached to him in the first place.

Fuck that. Satoru can develop feelings on his own fucking time. He’ll lose them just as quickly, you can tell.

This isn’t anything more than a hookup to him. He’s an attention whore who likes to hear himself talk, and you’re dumb enough to entertain him because you’re lonely and easily amused, at least when it comes to him.

There’s nothing real here.

You still don’t know where he actually works, outside of some nebulous high school teaching situation. Where he lives. What he does most of the day, what his parents are like. Where he’s from, even. You don’t know if he’s seeing anyone else. He could be married with kids, for all you know.

Not – not that you care. Not that you give a fuck what he’s doing, who he’s fucking, where he is when he’s not with you. You don’t care about him past his dick and what it does to you.

If you did care, you’d only suffer for it. So you draw the line.

You don’t need him, and you want to keep it that way. You don’t want to get attached, and neither does he. So you try to keep him at arm’s length.

Close enough to touch but not so close that your foolish, eager heart can leap out of your chest and into his hands.

Would he still give you that boyish grin when he rejected you? Laugh and let you down gently? Would he say yes and hold your hand while you walked together to the guillotine, the painful end to a relationship that wasn’t supposed to happen anyways? Would he skip away while your heart seized and trembled on the executioner’s block?

He’d look pretty even with blood on his face, you’re sure. But you wouldn’t come out so nicely.

So you don’t ask him to stay. You don’t ask him for anything. You take what you’re given and you savor it, but you try – oh, god, do you fucking try – to find someone else, something else to occupy your time.

But he’s just too good. You want him. And you don’t get to have him if you ignore his texts and don’t answer when he’s at the door. You don’t get to fuck him if you won’t even let him see you.

So even if you look away, even if your answers are short, even if you don’t let him stay (not that he even wants to) – you have to let him in.

And unlike you, he’s got self-respect. He’s got other options. If he can’t have you, he’ll just fuck other people, so you can’t push him away too much. You have to make him want to come back. You have to make him want to give you more.

But you can’t control what Satoru wants, and that is the problem.

It’s out of your hands, locked securely in his ribcage where you can never get to it.

He doesn’t talk about his life, his history, doesn’t even complain about work during off hours.

Really, it’s already over, isn’t it? Has been, ever since the beginning. You’re just waiting for the inevitable end.

“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight.” You say, tired. So tired, and warm. Satoru always leaves you like this; loose-limbed and floaty, high enough to feel the drop. “You can shower before you leave, if you want.”

“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru asks, teasing, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”

You close your eyes, trying not to think of what his face must look like.

“Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”

“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”

Satoru’s arm around your form presses you against him, just barely. Not too close. Never too close.

You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.

You can feel it when he wakes up. How his breathing changes, how he stiffens and tenses against you, you tumble out of sleep instantly, lashes fluttering.

You shut them closed again. Relax yourself. You don’t have to get up. You don’t want to get up.

Why isn’t he leaving yet? What’s taking him so long?

There’s this tension that creeps into your chest. Like you can feel each individual breath he takes. Waiting for him to say something, shake you awake – but why would he? And why would you want him to?

You know what this is. You’ve always known.

So you lay there, still, breathing calm and even, until he leaves.

(…Come back. Please come back.)

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #lemon #female!reader #afab!reader #jjk x reader

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iwaasfairy · 1 year ago

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┌─ “ ! „ CHALKBOARD AND NAILS

tw. noncon, yandere, dumbification, objectification, daddy kink, some degradation, some praise, threats, brief mention of murder and blood, hair pulling, forced oral wordcount. 4.5k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @totalleelee ♡♡♡ here you are my loVE!!! happy late birthday to your friend as well, and I really hope you guys enjoy it! I always like getting to write new characters and Nanami was definitely a fun one. I had to make the fic longer bc I wanted moreEeeeee but yea i just really really hope you enjoy it, and thank you again a miLLIOn for commIng me iM so sO HONOUREDDD

nanami kento x fem!reader

You should think about what you’re doing. Lying upside down off the couch with your eyes big and long, distracting lashes and your hair hanging; casting playful shadows on the floor when you move. His couch. He’d like to believe you’re doing it on purpose -hell, most people would probably be inclined to- when you’ve got that coy, little smile on your face and your shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of skin above your pants.

He would assume if you had ever dared to come onto him in any way. But you haven’t, and so he can’t, not when you remain the perfectly sweet, kind, respectful graduate they hired only a few years ago— and it makes him too aware of you.

Nanami’s not the prim and proper bootlicker Gojo jokes he looks like; so among the other sorcerers, it isn’t even too illogical that you would cling to him a little. A kouhai dumped on his doorstep when the higher-ups decided to employ them fresh out of school. If it were anyone else, he would’ve complained until the choice was overruled. But you’re not anyone else. He can’t even lie about the fact that he’s grown quite the attachment to you.

Your bubbly, engaged energy and blueberry scented shampoo and cheap coffee in styrofoam cups that you always, always forget to throw away at the end of the day. Your chattering that rings through his brain before he goes to sleep and the way you talk and talk and talk when he won’t. You’re the exact opposite of an enigma, because that would require that you left him with some mysteries, and you don’t have the ability to keep your mouth shut. He hates how easy you wind him around your little finger, and he hates that he hates it.

Nanami’s not a dependant guy- and it seems to be your goal to prove him so fucking wrong.

“Why wouldn’t that be possible? I mean, it’d be hard if suddenly a curse shows up and you’re called up in the middle of the night and have to rush to work, and our rates of serious injury are pretty high. But I think I could make it work! Y’know, communication is key and all that.” Your pretty lips shine as you ramble on. You prop your head onto one arm, and turn over so your leg is basically straddling his furniture. “Have you ever dated a non-sorcerer while you’ve been a grade one, Nanamin?”

He lets out a slow exhale, and shifts his gaze back from the lines of your throat to his book so you don’t catch him looking. “No.”

“Not once? In like twelve years?” You raise a brow like you’ve suddenly discovered he’s some ancient fossil dug up from the canal.

“I prefer not to leave my partners for weeks on end with no explanation because the sorcerer world forbids it— so no. And I didn’t graduate twelve years ago, brat.” With the spine of the book he taps your nose, before getting up from the chair to join you on the couch. The few drinks have been abandoned as you finally let the blood back out of your head and wobble like a deer, blinking too slowly. Even now, you’re pretty. Prettier than he wants you to be, taking in the soft slope of your nose and the pillowy lips and your stupid flush on your face. Brat is right.

“I think I’ll do it,” you declare after a few seconds, and rest your head back into the couch with a pout. “I get lonely. And most sorcerers have giant egos.” He’s not sure if it takes him aback -can’t place the emotion that washes over him a few inches at a time- but he finds himself watching the side of your face a little too tightly. The cogs turn in his head and send some uncomfortable cold to gather in the pit of his stomach. Your lashes flutter and some wetness lines your waterline, and he can tell that you mean it. It isn’t the alcohol, he knows you better than enough.

When you look up at him, your faces are only a few inches apart— soft breaths filling the narrow space between. Has he ever told you he loves you? He’s not a man of too many words, that’s always been more your style than his— so probably not. But he does. So much it carves a gaping hole in his chest upon impact. He doesn’t have to say anything to see the way your eyes flutter shyly with the near perfect closeness. As your silence hangs as the room disappears, his hand twitching on his thigh. Aren’t you partly his like he’s yours? That’s how it should work. It’s the only logical course of action, and so he can’t help but lean in.

You’re just too shy to say anything- right? You wouldn’t hang out with him so much if you didn’t, wouldn’t trust and touch him, or confide in him so much if you didn’t. His heart burns in his chest the closer you seem to get. But before he can finish up the gap, you giggle and back away. “Wow! Hey, we almost kissed.” Your voice is a higher pitch than normal, but still rambly. Fuck. “I didn’t expect you to be so close when I looked up,” your nose and cheeks are burning hot, “you scared me, Nanamin~”

You stand from the couch instead, and lean towards him with that little smile that drives him crazy at night. “Senpai, it’s clearly time for me to go home. I’m getting sloppy.” You are. And as much as he wants to use that as an excuse to grab you by your waist and pull you into his lap, it wouldn’t do any good. Not when you’re too busy running your mouth to understand the consequences. He loves you, but you’re one infuriating little runt. You run your hand through his hair like it’s an intrusive thought, spilling loose locks onto his forehead, and then you smack your lips. “Will you see me to the door at least?”

For not the first time, he blames your loose lips for making it so hard for him.

You’re entirely different outside the four walls of his apartment.

It’s a coincidence that he finds himself across the street as he spots you walking under the streetlights with a little jump in your step. You look a different sort of formidable— clinging to the arm of some plain fucking loser that is so very clearly drooling all over you. It’s almost pathetic how easily swayed the guy is, as you bat your lashes and smile at him. And somewhere in the back of his mind, it rings a little familiar, but common sense and logic get pushed down a little under the feeling of anger that he feels bubbling up in him.

Not at you— though he told you he didn’t think it a good idea, you’ve always been a bit dense. In need of protection. It isn’t an option, and Nanami’s responsible for you. He looks out for you. This fucking loser though, is oblivious about anything but the skin your dress is showing off. In the brief few moments he gets to spot you walking off towards your street, that much becomes clear. You love making it hard for him. You’re basically magnetic, dragging him along from whatever chore he was doing to follow behind patiently, getting more and more agitated.

See, Nanami has thought quite often about what he is, and isn’t. You forced him to think it over whenever he found his mind wandering back to you each time it had the chance, squeezing around his cock and whining out your dramatics into his mouth. In his imagination, he’s easy to wrap up into a neat bow. With a begrudgingly growing interest each time you landed on his couch, or trailed behind him like a puppy at work. It’s because of all that introspection that he decided he isn’t a good do-er. He does good, and he is perfectly adequate at doing it too. But he doesn’t do it for the praise of it.

Nanami isn’t a hero. He isn’t a vigilante.

He’s a simple guy with simple wants: you. So there’s only one reason that crystalizes in his mind as he finds himself walking a good distance behind this fucking loser that you’re blinking stars up at. It isn’t a noble one. Just that every fiber in him aches to grab the guy by the back of his neck and kick his head like a soccer ball. You wouldn’t like that much, but he still wants to do it.

You’re beaming and chattering along like you do at such a pace that you don’t even notice that he’s started to follow behind. Hell, you barely even acknowledge a passerby to move out of the way. You’re totally zoned in to your doe-eyed, little fantasies— even as the distance gets closer and closer, and he’s walking down the now familiar streets towards your apartment. And as much as he wants to blame you, he can't. Not really. It’s not like he didn’t know what a sweet little cheerleader you were when you were prancing around his office with the shortest skirts known to man and a coquettish blink of your long lashes. But it’s different when it’s some two-bit, middle aged non-sorcerer with a five o’clock shadow.

It’s different when it isn’t him. Even you must know that. You must feel it.

The sky’s darkening as your conversation goes from enthusiastic to clearly flirty, letting your giggle ring out down the lane— as he makes up the last bit of distance. The guy’s probably musty breath reaching you as he swings his arm over your shoulder, as he pulls you close. As he fills your head with all kinds of promises that he definitely won’t actually meet as soon as he gets your pretty hands around his cock. He knows it, and he knows that even your innocent, sweet personality would take a hit if that happened. You wouldn’t be able to perform well at work, and maybe even your relationship with Nanami would suffer if you got your heart broken.

There’s a very clear path before him that ends right where you’re walking up the steps towards your door, and those pretty lips form words he can’t focus on. He walks up to the door, and only now do you glance behind you and your pretty eyes go curiously wide at him. “Nanami?” You’re so fucking cute. But that stupid fucking arm around your shoulders is in his way. It blocks you from view, and ruins the sight. It’s a bother. There’s only the faintest hints of jealousy and rage left in his veins - when he gives you a quick nod, then turns towards the guy who’s now got an awfully dumb expression on his face. It reminds him a little of a curse, blank and narrowed and disturbed. He feels eerily calm, really. It’s a simple problem with a simple solution, isn’t it.

“What are you doing here-” you start to say, before you stumble back.

Blood splatters all over, and with an awfully easy motion that stupid head rolls and drops to the floor. It’s quick, and there’s a few seconds where he waits for the resistance. The uncomfortable feeling of guilt. But it doesn’t come—

Until your shaky hand clutches almost painfully onto his shirt, pinching him. “H- Nanamin. What the hell do you think you’re doing? What did you-” You gasp, breaking off into a choked cry when your eyes take in the sight before you, before squeezing your eyes shut entirely and starting to shake harder. “What’s- why?! What did you do? Why did you do that?! I can’t- I can’t even- what- why?!”

You shove him aside, and his foot lands in the mess as you fumble sticking the key into the lock— too shaky to control your own extremities well. But your mouth still hasn’t stopped running. “Stay away! Go away! You’re- I- hick- I don’t wanna look!” You finally manage to get the key turned by the time the tears are making your cheeks entirely shiny, snot running and lip wobbly like a five year old— and sink down into a crouch to start sobbing it out into your arm. “You just killed a-an-” You can’t even make it halfway through without breaking out into another squeak. “F-for no reason. I invited him here- seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

Your face doesn’t come up again for breath until he grabs you by the arm to help you up, and you shove at him again, almost yelling this time. “No, no, no no no! Leave me alone!” This little scene you’re making is gonna attract attention, you know. “Leave me alone, I want to go in!” Before the situation can get out of hand, he pushes your door open enough to toss you inside, and the body after you. There’s a muffled little whimper from you when it lands with a thump on your floor. But as soon as he closes the door, the surge of adrenaline calms.

He just has to explain it to you, give him a minute.

“I don’t wanna- I don’t-”

For some reason, the entire situation winded him, and his beating heart bangs loudly in his chest. He drops his weapon aside and kicks off his shoes, and goes to you— where you’re cocooned in your own arms, knees to your chest. “Hey, it’s-”

“Leave me alone!” you squeak, knocking his hands away from you, only briefly looking up. “Go. Hck- go away!” You’re crying so much that your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. But he still grabs you by your arms and hauls you up into his chest, ignoring the way you make yourself dead weight. Brat. He wants to say it, but he’s pretty sure you wouldn’t be too happy to hear it at this very moment. It’s not like he blames you. He’s always tried to shield you from the more gruesome parts of the occupation as much as possible. Of course you’d be upset. “Nanamin~” you whine.

“Shhh, just calm down. It’s all good now.” His heart still beats so loud. Maybe he was angrier than he first imagined. He carries you -much to your dismay, if your sniveling cries are anything to go off- out of the hall and into your bedroom. Where it smells of perfume and girly body lotion, and so overwhelmingly like you it takes him aback a little. You’re still crying, and still talking- but he does his best to drown it out in favor of explaining. See, he’s always been such a sucker for you. Swallowing down the slight rasp in his voice, he allows you to drop back into your bed, and looks down at you. You’re still pretty even with your eyes clenched closed, and crying like a baby. “There, ‘s okay.”

He runs his thumb along your eyes, then settles down next to you on the plush mattress. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Listen-”

“How can I -hck- listen?!” You’re quick to turn your face away from him, and wrap your arms around yourself a bit tighter— probably unaware of the distracting way you push up your tits that way in that little implication of a dress. Really, Nanami swallows, you can obviously do much better than that loser that’s probably staining your carpet at the entrance. Your lip wobbles again, before you suck it into your mouth. “I don’t know what- or how- but that isn’t okay, Nanamin. I just-”

So again, he tries to get your attention, this time by grabbing your arm. “Just listen. I did it for you- if this was anyone else I wouldn’t have been so pressed.” It’s true. No one is a priority like you are. “I had to.”

“What are you talking about? How- is killing someone- oh god, there’s a dead guy in my house, Nanamin! I don’t k- what am I gonna do? Why would you-”

“I’m trying to tell you something.” His voice is lower and sharper this time, and your eyes finally shoot open to look at him. But it isn't that adoring little look you normally have, and somehow that pisses him off too. You really need to have everything spelled out for you, huh. He loves you though, really, he genuinely, genuinely does. As more than just an equal— if he could, he’d give you everything. He just doesn’t know how to say it, staring back at the wobbly tears on your face. “I love you,” is what ends up coming out, and then a breath.

And he’d say more if you weren’t such a talker.

Your face goes a little distant for a few seconds, before you shake your head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I will tell you, if you just-”

“I can’t accept that, senpai! You can’t just go around and kill-”

“I was protecting you!”

“From what?!” Before you even give him a chance, a real one, you start righting yourself on the bed and run a hand under your nose. And you stare at him with such disbelief and broken trust that it makes him feel a little dizzy. He doesn’t know exactly how he imagined himself spilling his guts, but it wasn’t like this. “You need to leave. And I need to contact someone from the higher ups to- take care of- I don’t even know,” you sob, “I don’t know how any of this goes. That’s so messed up, Kento.” That’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his first name. Scolding him for a choice he made purely for you. He did this for you. “You need to-”

He can’t let the first time end this way.

“Stop talking.”

“Stop talking?” You echo back to him, and glare, also getting up off the bed and farther away from him— and he can’t help but follow. “What did you think was gonna happen? That I wasn’t going to say anything?” As he gets up with you, you walk back a step, and your eyes flick back and forth between him and the door a few times. But he chases, and you jump in surprise when your back meets the wall, effectively trapping you between the wall and him. “I- Nanami-”

“Kento.”

You barely blink as you take a sharp intake of air, and then hold your hands up to his chest to keep some space between you two. “Look- just- we can talk about this, but I can’t just ignore that there’s a dead body in my house, Kento.” He’s really sick of you talking. You’re lucky he loves your voice so much, because if it was anyone else, he wouldn’t stand for it. Whatever you see in his expression must have you worried, because that slight defiance that remains gets awfully feeble when he reaches for you this time. “You’re scaring me. Please, just- hck- just back up. Let me process this, and then we can talk.”

“No, all your talking just gets in the way.” Your eyes go wide and a wave of heat washes over your features, making you look even more attractive. If he can’t tell you, he’ll just show you. You’ve got it all fucking wrong. What he feels for you is true love. Before you can go on another mad ramble, he grabs you and drags you back to bed, as gently as he can while having his hand screwed tight around your wrist. He wouldn’t ever actually hurt you. As you land on the bed, he holds you down— watching as you open your mouth to talk. But you can’t, because he’s already shoved two fingers between your lips and feels the way your hot, wet tongue squirms as he pushes them down your throat. “There, that’s better.”

Still you’re trying to talk, it’s almost funny. You whine around his fingers and gag when you can’t, breathing his name into an uncomfortable moan that just turns him on. You try to pull your head away, but you can’t. “You’re a lot sweeter when you’re not running your mouth sometimes, baby.” He can’t help it, it just comes out. He likes you so much, and you just look so cute gagging on his fingers and grabbing his sleeve like you’re not sure whether or not to pull or push. Tears start welling up along your waterline when he runs his fingertips over your soft, pink tongue. And his cock twitches in his pants.

That’s the good part, see. Even with all this fighting, you two still get along so well. You make him a better man when he’s around you. At least, in theory. He’s not crazy, he knows that holding you down and making you choke on his fingers isn’t really the best course of action -but you left him no choice- and he’s better off finishing what he started. “If you shut up,” he draws his fingers out of your mouth to start unzipping his pants, “I’ll let you breathe. If you don’t, I’ll make sure you won’t want to talk again.” It’s all up to you, pretty girl. Simple cause and effect. You take one sharp breath as you try to get out from under his weight, but there’s really nowhere you can go.

So you do what you do best, and whine. “Nanami~” It’s a baby-ish little whimper that makes him name sound so fucking good. But still. He grabs your face to squish your cheeks, and stares down at you with such intensity that you keep your cries in.

“It’s Kento.” His voice is a low, soft rumble. He wonder if it gives away the way his body feels right now, standing above you while his cock strains against his pants. They’re getting too tight to be comfortable. “Or daddy- you like that better? Say it.” You shake your head into his grip -but your ears start glowing another color brighter, almost like he’s caught you in a lie. Of course you do. You and him are made to be together. You let out another little squeak before he lets go of you to start undoing his pants.

That apparently seems to be too much, because suddenly you’re trying to get up as you speak. “No, no, I’m not-” You’re trapped when he forces you back down and now yanks your head back by your hair, making you cry again. “Ow, please senpai— I like you, I really do- but I can’t- I- hang on.” The heat crawls up his neck to his ears watching your eyes go big as the belt falls and his pants go down his thighs. You really do look good on your fucking knees.

“I told you to stop yapping, didn’t I?” He asks in return, and finishes sliding his boxers down, kicking them aside. Then he pulls your face towards his cock and watches as you whine. “Open up for daddy. There’s only one thing your mouth’s good for.” You’re so easy to hold in place, and it sends unimaginable gratification through his body when your little tongue comes out for him. You’re really such a brat, making everything so fucking hard for him.

You open your mouth enough for him to start pushing inside at just the slightest yank of your hair, making you whine and whimper as you shuffle around between his legs. Your hands come to rest on his thighs, but that doesn’t hold him from sliding the hot head of his cock as far as he can into your mouth right away. You look amazing drooling all over his cock, choking when he starts to move with the most patient moves he can manage. It’s not easy to do much of anything except rock himself on your soft tongue and feel your whining go down his shaft and balls. “There, now you’re making yourself useful. That’s what you do best, hm, fucking brat?”

“Agh, fuck- that’s- such a soft little mouth.” You make him feel heavenly, and by the way you’re shifting down there on the floor -trying and failing to get the friction you want- you’re also feeling it. He can tell by the way you blink up at him so slow, swallowing around him and letting that pretty voice out in the cutest, little moans. Just for him. Only ever for him. “You’re so lucky you’re this fucking cute,” he ends up rasping out, before letting you finally pull back to breathe when you start jittering. “Say something smart again, brat.”

“Agh, daddy,” you sob, drool spilling down your chin, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can tell you are. Your big eyes glossy and cheeks hot, you try to get up from the floor, and he yanks you up to turn you over instead. Your little dress rides up too easily, giving the rest of the way when he shoves it up your back. It’s almost embarrassing to see how wet you are, lacy panties soaked all the way through and peeled too easily aside to reveal that needy pussy. And you don’t even deny it, just shiver when he runs his finger up and down your slicked up cunt. “Please.”

He’s such a sucker for you, fuck. It’s almost like you know it. “My little cock slut, look at that. You’re dripping down your thighs, brat.” He spits on your center once before lining up and sliding in, and watching as your little pussy stretches around his cock with some effort— as you let out a lewd, almost desperate whine. “Fuck.” And Nanami hoists himself over you to start fucking into you, hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out, as you open your legs further to let him in. Your back half hangs pathetically over the end of the bed as he fucks into your tight, hot -so fucking hot and wet and beaming- pussy and his balls clap against you. You feel so good it’s hard to hear anything over his own heartbeat hammering wildly against his ribs.

“Daddy feel good inside?”

“Mhm, agh-yea.”

You too, baby. Nothing in the world feels as good as letting your pussy swallow and suck him in deeper, like you’re trying to hold him in that impossibly hot, blissful clutch forever. He can’t even hear much of your whining and moaning and pitiful struggle, but you probably haven’t stopped. You don’t even have the energy to close your mouth, trying to push back to meet his thrusts more even as he bumps against the end of your pussy— and his one hand is squeezed around your neck. But you look pretty this way. You look useful.

“Tell me how much you like me.”“So~ much, so much, fuck. I’m gonna cum, Kento. Daddy.” Your mouth’s still running when he snakes his hand underneath you to start rubbing at your puffy clit, and feels the way his own body starts to tighten when your walls clench wildly around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I want you to cum too, want to feel it- I wanna have you deep inside me forever, ah, ah. Oh, you feel so good, fuck.” It’s almost ironic when he thinks about it. How much he likes you running your mouth like this, begging for more. It’s poetic.

#nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #tw.noncon #tw.murder #tw.blood #tw.dark content #tw.yandere #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.nanami

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lexxiie · 1 month ago

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Hey!!! I LOVE YOUR FICS AAAA

I was thinking of something funny and cute for jjk where the reader is hit by someone with a curse that turns people into their child selves for a little while, how would the guys act?

When A Curse Turns You Into A Child

This is like... The cutest idea ever????

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Nanami.

Gojo Satoru

He was actually a bit worried when the curse first hit you, especially since you didn't even remember him... However, now? He's not worried at all, he's actually quite amused.

"Pleaaaaseee" you almost cried to the tall, mean man in front of you. "No. No ice cream for you." He responded with a huge smile on his face, which only made you burst out crying. "Whyyyyy?" You asked him with a face now covered in tears. He actually didn't mean to take it this far, but he was having so much fun with this. You will definitely be mortified when the effects of the curse vanish, and the thought makes him scaringly happy.

"Fine, Fine. But just one, you have to learn that no means no." You didn't seem to care at all about the last part of his sentence since your tears went away immediately, being replaced by a huge smile that almost made his heart melt. He picked you up and headed to the ice cream shop. He never knew you were so spoiled when you were a kid, you never told him. All he could think about was how hard it must have been for your parents to have such a whiny child. But in the depths of his mind, he also wondered if it would be like this if he ever had a child with you, and the idea didn't bother him one bit. It would be... Nice, wouldn't it?

He got you your ice cream and took you back home. You played Mario kart for a little while, he won the first rounds, but you cried every single time, so he was now letting you win. Once the final round was over, he pretended to be sad to see if you felt a little bad, but no. You jumped and laughed and yelled at him that he was a huge looser. What an annoying little monster you were.

Nanami Kento

He is the most stressed he's ever been in his whole life, what is he supposed to do? He knows nothing about children. To be honest, he wishes your parents lived closer so that he could just leave you there and come back once the curse is over.

"I want my mommyyyy" you cried to the stranger in front of you. "I know, I know, she'll be back soon, you don't have to cry." He said as he wiped your tears with a handkerchief. "Let's do something fun while we wait for her." He tried to cheer you up, even as a child, he hated to see you cry. "Like what?" You asked, still sobbing. "Do you like cookies?"

Kento looked at the kitchen and sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a mess, but at least you were happy. "Are they ready yet?" You asked, jumping excitedly. "They are." The man said with a subtle smile. He pulled the cookies out of the oven and warned you about the heat.

Once they were cold enough, you both sat down and had a couple, you with a glass of milk, and Kento with a cup of coffee. They had way too many chocolate chips for his liking, but you were the happiest child he'd ever seen while eating them. You rambled to him about how much you hated broccoli and how you wished you could eat cookies everyday, and he realized he wouldn't mind doing this for more than a couple of hours, he might be a family man, after all.

Geto Suguru

Well, weren't you the cutest little thing to ever exist? He was amazed by this, it is definitely the best thing that has happened to him in a while. He was already thinking of how he would tease you when it all ended.

But now, he was way more focused on not pushing the swing too hard. You were having so much fun, but he was so scared you would hit the ground. Yet, you seemed to have no worries or fear, making your biggest effort to move the swing faster. "How about we go to the slide?" Geto asked, tired of preventing the swing from throwing you to the other side of the playground. "But I like it here!" You yelled, visibly annoyed that he stopped pushing you. Geto looked around to try to find something else. "Wouldn't you like to go to the roundabout?"

He didn't often regret things in his life, but he sure was regretting ever suggesting this. He thought you would get tired soon, but no. He had been holding his vomit for about 5 minutes now, but it was already too late, he gave up and turned around to let it all out on the ground. The mothers and kids gave him disgusted looks, but you bursted out laughing, which made him laugh too. It hadn't been such a bad day, after all.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #nanami kento #geto suguru #jjk headcanons #headcanons #imagine

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ronintales · 8 months ago

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So When I Die. | Gojo Satoru

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 | following gojo satoru’s death, his ex wife is in charge of taking care of his funeral service and everything else that comes with it.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 | 4,676 words

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | character death, possible spoilers, funeral, angst, mentions of not eating, and not proofread ;p

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | I did NAWT want this to be my first work on here but due to certain circumstances…. AHEM his DEATH!!!! I felt it was necessary because laik… grief LOL. I wrote this a while back tho. Enjoy.

Your ex-husband is dead, and in his line of work, yes, you know that he has a higher risk of dying than the average person, but still, death never comes expected, does it? Even if he always says—oh wait… used to, you suppose, say that he was crazy strong and no one could ever take him down. Well, he was wrong in the end like a bunch of other things. Like how well he took care of you, how he’d give you six kids, how—you won’t ramble, noting he’s dead now and there’s no point, but also because it’s quite rude of you to talk down on someone who is dead and can’t defend themselves. Whatever.

You just… don’t expect it. Yes, you understood he was hard headed and insanely cocky, but in a way… you always believed that he would always come home alive and, even if he did get hurt, he would be okay eventually as he heals. You don’t forget it, he’s only human, you know because of the many mistakes he’s made, but still… he’s… he’s gone?

You hesitated when you heard that. Gojo Satoru, the so-called love of your life from two years ago, is dead? Impossible, you think. Gojo Satoru found death embarrassing, with all the things he said. He said that he would be okay. He was always okay. What are you supposed to say to that?

When you get the call, you wonder why you, of all the people in his life, were the one they called to inform about his status. Why did you have to go to his place and clean out all his things? Take all his belongings with you? At first, your instinct was to say “throw it all away,” because what does Gojo Satoru mean to you now? You’re not his wife! He neglected you for years and filled your days and nights with sorrows. He broke your heart. But still, he didn’t mean nothing to you at the same time.

Those precious years of being his acquaintance in middle school. When you had shorter hair and he didn’t know much about you other than you were in his class and he had bought you cute white socks for your class gift exchange on Christmas that year. The long years that Gojo Satoru pined for you after you both attended the same high school. The hard and dark times he went through losing Suguru and shutting you out, though he loved you for so long. When you turned twenty, and Satoru had gotten better, to the point where he felt he was ready to move on and continue with his pursuit for you. When you turned twenty-three, and got married to him on a spur. When you moved in and shared a bed, until the marriage got cold and most nights you spent alone.

You couldn’t say for the past fourteen years, Gojo Satoru was nothing at all to you. The news was shocking, and knowing he was dead… did you have to be careful about how you felt about him, or how you thought of him? Well, now that he is dead, should you be so ruthless and hostile toward the man who broke your heart? You don’t know, so naturally, and it really just slips out, you agree to take care of the process of his passing.

For the most part, you’re calm. You don’t actually know how to feel, and you don’t know how to be. You’re not his wife, you have no obligations to take care of him, or anything that he cared about. Yet, you’re here. In his lonely apartment that doesn’t even smell like him. He probably never even spent much time in this place, even so, he still had a lot of belongings. Pictures of you in frames surprisingly. He did take them all when you got divorced and he moved out of the house, you just didn’t expect that he’d put them up on display. He probably didn’t get many visitors to question him about the lady in his pictures. You were sure that would get annoying.

Anyway, you don’t know if you’re supposed to cry or even feel sad. You don’t know if it’s strange to feel that way or not. You can’t quite make out how you feel, being surrounded by Gojo Satoru’s personality and things. You don’t think too much about the things inside the apartment because you don’t want to be too reminded of what you used to be. What you felt about the man once upon a time. If there was still love in your heart for him.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t a slob, but he wasn’t clean either by any means. Given he probably didn’t stay here much, it made sense that you didn’t need to clean a whole lot of the apartment. You get there and you take it all in. Satoru’s little apartment, because he didn’t want to pay for such a luxurious place he wouldn’t even stay in. Maybe that kind of place made him feel more alone too. Thoughts you should not be thinking start to trickle into your brain, but you stop yourself. You shouldn’t feel bad for leaving, nor should you want to go back. You made a decision to leave and you should honor it. It was the right thing to do for yourself (hopefully).

Do you even want his things? No, not really. But you have a keep, donate, and a throw away bin anyway. Most of it keeps going to the keep bin and donation box. Somehow the feeling of someone else getting Gojo Satoru’s things is unsettling to you, but it’s even worse to think that all these things will just go to a landfill where things that were once valued are forgotten and it’s all going to be considered “trash.” Maybe that’s because you know why every item is there and the story behind that certain mug or decor piece. You don’t know it, but you’re trying your best not to care.

You sigh, the thought that this is all so strange, bothering and pestering you like an annoying fly. You tell yourself you know that already, so stop thinking about it. Maybe you’re in denial that Gojo Satoru is actually gone. You can feel him. He’s still there, you know it. That or you’re just surrounded by his belongings and that’s why his presence is here.

In your hand, you hold a big black garbage bag as you make your way to his bedroom to clear out his closet. This is a room of his that you haven’t been to, strange right? You wondered if another woman spent time here. Jealous much? You’re supposed to be clearing out your ex-husband’s apartment, not pondering about what he was up to after you two had split. The man is dead for one, what are you going to do about it? Confront his dead body? You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, so that thought is one you shake off and ignore too.

You sigh because you’re tired from cleaning all day and clearing his things out and you’re probably only a quarter’s way done with the place. It’s not even that big, it’s just been uncomfortably hard for you to bring yourself here with your mixed and strange feelings about this whole situation. Isn’t there anyone else who cares about Gojo Satoru? How come you’re stepping up to the plate when this is how you feel—confused and unsure? What are you even going to do for the funeral? You took the task up because Gojo Satoru would probably turn in his grave knowing the higher ups organized his funeral. So while it is strange for you to do all of this, you’ve rationalized the lot of this situation that you put yourself in. Once upon a time, he loved you right? So surely he would prefer you over—you’re so silly, thinking all these things when Gojo Satoru is your dead ex-husband.

You plop on the bed with a small groan as you turn over. This is a bit inappropriate, to be laying on your ex husband’s unmade bed. It’s left in the state that it was the last time he woke up. That’s a little precious you think, freely, not even denying it. Are you ruining this precious thing here? Well, in all honesty, you’re kind of cherishing it, because this is a small piece of Satoru that is really still here in the present times. He always liked soft things and this blanket is soft. The sheets still smell like your ex-husband. The light musk of his skin and his soap is there. The thought of this bed being his is comfortable enough. Like you miss his warmth and touch, you curl up on the mattress, hugging yourself to the scent of him surrounding, and you can almost imagine that he’s holding you right now, like he used to. His detergent is faintly there too, well actually, it’s the same as yours. He asked when you two had split and he was settling into his own place all the household items you used. You supposed that it was all he knew.

You offered to go shop for household things with him and it was probably the last time you two had exchanged any kind of affection. You let him put his hand on your thigh as he drove you two to the supermarket. He let you link your arm with his, sides flush together like you two didn’t just get divorced. It was a silent message of “I miss you,” because it was and—quite frankly, still is—hard to get over someone you loved for so long. Even if he left the marriage long before you did, emotionally and physically. This was something you wanted while you married, for Satoru to present, and in your arms. For him to show you that he cared and loved you. You were even a little upset that was the only time he was doing all of that for you, but you chose not to ruin the moment for the both of you.

Funny how all these memories and things between the two of you are flooding in constantly. It makes you feel kind of sick. Nauseous and unable to breathe. You open your eyes in realization of what you’re doing right now. You sit up immediately, flustered and embarrassed as if Satoru would open the door right now and have that annoying smug grin on his face with his arms crossed, just to say as he leans on the door frame, “I knew you missed me.” Following with your name because he liked your name the best. He always said your name was pretty and he wouldn’t give you a pet name because nothing will ever be as great as calling you by your name. A nice little reminder that Satoru loved your name makes you smile a bit. Weird how all of these just keep piling up. One thought triggers another and it almost makes you itch and feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. You almost have regrets about—

Whatever, you have a deadline to clean this place up you remind yourself. You spread your palms out on the sheets once more, feeling every thread that Satoru once laid his body on. You should take these for your bed, you think. They’re not so bad, just a plain white sheet, but it reminds you of Satoru’s hair and it would be waste.You lift yourself from the bed and open his closet, not even noticing how you keep having to make excuses for yourself to keep some of his things.

Already feeling overwhelmed because you keep holding back, opening the closet makes you feel like you’re cracking. You let out a suppressed sound. You can’t even register what it sounds like. A squeak or something? But looking at all his clothes almost makes everything so real for you. All his uniform? All his coats and sweaters? Ah, the one from high school. And then you can see all the ones you bought him. Damn, does that really test your strength.

Lined up neatly and nicely put away, it’s almost a shame to you to give these away. Your hand shakes as you hesitantly reach for one of his favorite button ups. Your skin meets the soft fabric and you only lightly touch it because you don’t want to wrinkle it. You remember when you used to iron Satoru’s clothes early in the morning before he woke up. Even until the end of your marriage, you still ironed them.

You look up, reaching for his work uniform. This is what he wore most often, you know that. So you let yourself crumble. Carefully taking off the hanger and sitting on his bed as you hold the shirt close to you. You bring it to your nose, just to smell it. You wish it smelled like Satoru more, but even so, it makes you break down.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you take another sniff. The thought that Satoru really isn’t here anymore makes your heartbreak. It comes crashing down on you. You really miss him, and you regret that you didn’t spend as much time as you would have liked to with him. You wish you could have had the courage to tell him how much you still cared and loved him. Yes, it might not have been the same kind of love you had for him before, but you did still love him.

You let out a little sob. In frustration and despair, tears flow out as you hold his clothes close to you. The walls of your bruised heart collapses as you hold his clothes so tight as if he was still in them. Well, you really do wish he was. You’re desperate to feel him in your arms physically. Just a moment with him so you could say your last sentiments. Just a moment to see him again. Just a moment to love him.

You’re helpless as your tears flow endlessly onto his shirt. You feel silly, but you just can’t stop. You really miss Satoru, and you have been for so many months now. You stroke the shirt as you would his body, wallowing in the grief you’re supposed to feel, even if the dead man is your ex-husband. You spent so many years loving him, how could you just not feel anything to hear news of his death? How could you not feel any regret or remorse for how messy you left things with him? There’s so many things you want to say to him, and it kills you to know you will never get to say any of it to him.

You wonder if Satoru was still around, would he wrap his arms around you and tell you not to cry? Would he kiss your temple like he always did when you were down? You wish he would just do all of it. You wish you two could have tried harder. Your love for him never burned out, you know that much. It’s the reason why you’re here, alone in his room crying as you hold his clothes dearly to you. And even if you hate to say it, even if you don’t want to admit it, Satoru loved you until the very end too.

“I’m still in love with you y’know…”

“Shut up,” You mutter as you slide the eggs off the pan for the hungry man at the table.

It was the dead hours of the night when he returned from a mission, knocking on your door, telling you that he was hungry and needed a place to crash.You slammed the door on him of course, but he wedged his foot in the gap of the door (no, it didn’t hurt, he’s got magical powers that prevent him from actually getting hurt like damn maniac) and used his strength against you to push his upper body through the door to beg you to let him stay. It was a mistake on your part, but it actually wasn’t all that terrible that night. You were just bitter.

“My bad,” Satoru said dramatically as he took a bite. “Just thought you missed me. That’s the reason you let me in, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not in the mood for any of his games. His smug grin made everything even worse, because he was right. “Gojo Satoru, wipe that grin off your face.”

“Must have hit a nerve,” He teased like it was still appropriate to do so.

You actually don’t even remember what you said then after that, but you just know… Gojo Satoru has you all figured out yet… he never said anything about it to you. And that was just him. He knew well enough not to break your heart one more time, but he was selfish enough to constantly flirt with you any time he could. If he passed by, or was coming home late from a mission and knocking on your door to remind you that he existed. Not anymore.

After cleaning his apartment, it’s all empty now. Which is a little strange. You’ve never even been to his place until after he died, and yet… it makes your stomach turn and feel upset after realizing that this place is no longer where your ex-lover resides. You understand that he’s no longer occupying it. There’s no point in keeping it for him. But maybe because you don’t think it through while you’re still in the grieving process. You don’t think about Gojo Satoru being dead because you don’t want to. It makes your heart squeeze and your breath stop. You can’t face the fact that he no longer exists and you can no longer see him anymore. You just can’t, so you wonder: where will his home be? Who's going to take care of him? Where is he going to go to shelter himself from the rain or snow? Where is he going to sleep? Where can he feel safe and secure?

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You really need to get some proper rest. You feel yourself withering in the bitter feelings you still have toward Satoru, but also the dangerous sorrow that’s sinking your whole body down. You can’t believe that you really miss Gojo Satoru after all this time hating him and wishing you two had never met when he was here and alive, waiting for you to just cave into what your heart wanted. Truth is though, you never would. You were too strong for that.

Finally, you pack up the final things, leaving absolutely nothing behind. Satoru isn’t here anymore, and it looks exactly like that. This little corner of the world isn’t his anymore, and you’d like to say that it never was because he didn’t spend much of his time in this place. It’s just sad to see it all gone, stripped to the bare white box it actually is without the fun of your late ex-husband. You shut the door, leaving this place behind and bringing this part of Satoru with you, maybe the only part of Satoru that is still worldly and able for you to have in your grasp. You leave the key to his apartment on the landlord’s desk and leave with the rest of Satoru’s things in your arms, all thrown in the cardboard box labeled “Satoru” in your handwriting with a permanent marker. Silly of you to not even realize it, Gojo Satoru’s home is not a place, it’s you.

The end of it was the funeral process. Which was much more work than cleaning his apartment. You wish somebody was worried about your well-being, but that somebody, the most likely candidate, was dead. Satoru would have told you to chill out a bit and ask you to wind down with him, but this is his funeral, he can’t really do that now, can he? But you don’t want to seem like you’re so reliant on him. You’ve done plenty of things without him, and this will be no exception. He just… sort of made the process easier and bearable. You’re on your 10th phone call with the carpenters of the coffin when you really wish you didn’t take on the task of carrying out Satoru’s dying wishes. He didn’t even have many, because he was so sure he wasn’t going to die so soon.

Through it all, you hold yourself together quite elegantly. Even through the eulogy. No one would even guess the mental strain you put yourself through to make this all happen. All the floral arrangements are beautiful, Satoru’s corpse is dressed nicely—though you grace him with a closed casket funeral because you were sure that he did not want anyone to see him so vulnerably lifeless and you simply could not handle the sight of his stale and unresponsive body. But everyone could indeed tell, Gojo Satoru was loved. They could understand your love for the man. You wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t love him. But you just deny it.

His guest list was quite large. Some people you didn't even know, and you were sure he did not want that. But the higher ups had their own agenda too, and you had to make compromises though you stood your ground quite well for the sake of your late ex-husband's well being in the afterlife. You wonder, would Satoru love you for eternity for loving and caring for him unconditionally and so thoroughly? When you eventually join him, will he thank you for so meticulously planning and giving him a proper send off? You hope so. You hope that he will continue to love you in the next lifetime, and in that lifetime, you two will be happily together. Not miserably apart like you are now.

Maybe the only time anyone can see you break is when the casket is lowered and this is the last time that you’ll ever see Satoru’s face again, except you don’t. His casket is closed and covered with all the flowers you bought to send him off beautifully. There’s a complex look on your face, and no one could quite read it, but it was clear that there was a storm going on inside of you, stirring and rumbling. Your eyebrows knitted together and your eyes glossy with a down turn of your lips. You’re just keeping yourself together for Satoru. You need to.

The only time you get to break down about it is when you get home from the long day. Crumbling down your door, as you miserably sob. How could the world be so possibly cruel that you had to bury the last man you loved for the past ten years? It never gave you time to move on. You weren’t ready to let go just yet and be content with the distance. Sure, you asked for it when he was still tangible, but now he was untouchable, not existing, and it felt so painful. You curl up in a ball, on the bed you used to share with him. The bed you two used to gossip on and the bed where you simply just held him to sleep on your good days. The bed that you laid alone for most nights wishing he’d come to hold you and not be too tired for you. All the bad and good memories come to make you think of one thing; you wish Satoru was here right now.

You lay there, contemplating if you just want to stay there for the whole week or get up and cook yourself something. You haven’t been eating with how hectic it’s been to take care of Satoru’s send off. You sigh, closing your eyes. Sleep sounds like the best thing to you at the moment. You were drained and exhausted from preserving the life of Gojo Satoru as well as commemorating it. You needed that rest.

When you drift into sleep, you kind of hope that Satoru is there for you, waiting in a field of beautiful flowers like he came to visit you in a dream. Even if it’s just your imagination. You’d like to think that he cared enough that he left you alone to deal with all of the things he left behind. He doesn’t though, because you don’t dream. You just black out and you wonder if you’ll ever dream again. But maybe you’re just being dramatic because you miss your ex-husband so much. You blink the tears out from your eyes, wiping them before getting up and pulling yourself together. You can be sad, but not miserable. You were never the type to just crumble, however, even this shook you down to the very ground and yes, it is hard to get back up. But everything with Satoru was hard, and this was no different. You should have been used to this.

Eventually, you do get yourself together. Sad, but you’re functioning. You go back to work and you continue with your daily life. Satoru’s never really been a part of your daily routine after the 3rd year of being married to him. It was no different not seeing him at all, but it was just the fact that he truly wasn't there anymore. If you were to call his cell, it would just ring on your dresser in your room and go to voicemail. Sometimes, you wait for the voicemail just to hear his voice, but most times you stay away from his contact. You’re recovering, just slowly.

People at work send their condolences, just like they did when they found out you divorced Gojo Satoru. They give you a pitiful look and tell you to be strong, but when they think you’re not listening they bash Satoru for passing and still putting the responsibility of carrying his will out on his ex wife—you. You don’t defend him nor does what they say settle well with you. They’re right, of course. Gojo Satoru has always been selfish, up until his last breath, but you just can’t seem to feel validated when you’re the one who buried Gojo Satoru. He was once your whole world, how could you just completely numb yourself to the pain of losing your connection with him, absolutely and completely?

Apparently, you’re the only person on his will too. You inherit everything of his one day, and it’s kind of overwhelming. All of his money is transferred to your bank account, all his belongings, everything is yours. You don’t even know what to do with most of it. You don’t even want to look and use anything of his. So you store most of his things in a box and label it “Satoru,” along with the other things that you took from his apartment, and you make an account to store all his money in, for what? You don’t know, just something.

When you're older, you’ll come to realize that you made Satoru a loved person until the very end, and that you were perhaps the only person that he still had love for, even if you weren’t his wife anymore. This is why Satoru loved you so much, and yes, he got very lucky with you, you will give yourself that. But you also won’t feel so bitter about having to be the person to handle his departure because you made sure to do just the way he wanted it, by you. for now, you’ll miss him lots and bring him flowers whenever the time comes. You won’t call him your ex-husband, but your late-husband. You keep some of his clothes to wear like you used to. You still sleep on your side of the bed, leaving the space Satoru used to fill empty for him. Life goes on the way it used to.

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cindol · 5 months ago

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cotton candy princess reader and her gingerbread man nanamin .

nanami kento x black coded fem reader

tw + — candyland fantasy au ,

cw + — nanami is a gingerbread man but he still looks human in someway, everything in this world is candy based ( obviously ) , reader is low key an workaholic, nanami and reader are friends with some romantic tension, slightly suggestive massage,

syn — to help the cotton candy princess, nanami gives reader a much needed distress massage .

a / n 🍭 : was suppose to be a drabble but it’s more longer (world building sucks ) ! Left on a cliff hanger because erm me bad at endings

back to candyland . divider creds : @ / anitalenia

If there was one man who always could hold you down it was nanami, ever since his teen years of spraying that funny ginger snap smell on his blonde hair he was always there for you, just some royal girl with a pink cotton candy afro.

and he definitely knew when you had enough and overworked yourself.

“Nanami have you scheduled that appointment with peppermint knight gojo? I remember him talking about wanting armor updates..”

“miss y/n.”

“oh! And lord licorice, that man can be difficult but please do try and get in contact with his people so that we could come in agreement.”

“y/n..”

“and black milk painter! I know he just moved into this kingdom but I’d like him to feel welcomed by the people and me, please do send a bouquet of chocolate cosmos to his house!”

“y/n!” he said it in a louder tone than usual making you stop your rambling and pacing back and forth around your office desk.

He sighed scratching the back of his head.“I apologize for shouting princess y/n but I can’t help but say perhaps you’re stretching yourself too much..”

you hummed, agreeing but still kept to your original thought.“but I am the princess nanami, I have to stretch myself for these people, time doesn’t wait for me, only moves forward.” It was hard for nanami to get to you, you were just that much a workaholic, working for everybody but never for yourself.

Walking to you nanami put a hand on your shoulder.“yeah? Well this kingdom would need their princess in tip top shape. Time moves forward but I’m sure you can take some time to yourself for one day.” If there was a drum set in here you would’ve heard a comical ‘bddst!’ at his time joke.

you whirred, putting a hand on your chin. Nanami was your assistant, a smart one and you would take his advice just this once.“fine fine.. just for this day since I must.“

Nanami had a soft smile at that.“good, then I can show you exactly what I have planned for you.” that got a confused hummed from you.

unbeknownst to you nanami had been planning a private massage day for you with help from the peppermint knight gojo satoru. As much as he hated the man he knew what a woman needed to relax.

The room he used for the massage session was some abandoned bedroom in the candy kingdom. The lights dimmed, hard wax candy candles lit around the room and a pink massaging table long enough for you body in the middle of the room.

For you this was foreign. You weren’t someone who got your hands dirty but more use to working all day, all night for your people. You didn’t understand how this would help you relax really.

You only chuckled in this pink towel covering your body stopping at your legs. Near the massage table was nanami with his sleeves rolled up putting lotion on his cleaned hands.

“Didn’t know you’re the one giving me this ‘much needed massage’ .” you put quotes on the words with pointer fingers with a quirky giggle.

Nanami just shook his head smiling.“you never asked but again, I didn’t expect you to be the type of woman who would know about massages.”

“what? the pink dress I wear around didn’t make me come off feminine enough to know?” You joked making nanami falter and a slight blush on his face.

You sniggered at his reaction.“oh I’m just pulling your leg kento, now let’s get to this anticipated massage yeah?”

Once it came to the massage you didn’t expect nanami’s hands to be so…. skilled.

His hands smoothed out every uncomfortable crack in your upper back. He was making it hard to not make some hum or grunt.“mmph.. really working those hands of yours aren’t you?”

“Can’t help too, it seems like you’ve never heard of doing a good stretch in the morning, princess.” He innocently added that princess but it made you grumble and a barely visible blush on your face, you knew nanami didn’t mean it any teasing way but with how he said that nearly in your ear while massaging your naked back made you feel funny.

Before you could make a whitty comeback his hands went down to massage your lower back getting a sharp gasp from him and another funny feeling in your stomach.

That made nanami stop his hands massaging your flesh.“hey, you alright there?”

You just coughed, trying to cover up whatever little noise you were gonna make.“just caught me off guard.”

#nanami drabbles #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x black reader #x black fem reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader fluff

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gamblersdoll · 5 months ago

Note

Omg I asked so many people. Cause I need this. I even asked a mxm blog... Omg I am so embarrassed

Non alcoholic shy reader and neighborhood big bro satoru.

Context.

Reader is new in the building. And the grandma gives her alcohol and alcohol based food. Since the granny is the nicest woman alive. So, reader gives the food and alcohol to gojo. But one day, things escalated and he took her virginity.

he was a big brother to everyone, always preaching wisdom and how to do things in creative and certain ways— since he supposedly “went through the same thing last year or two years ago.”

yet, he had his eyes dead set on you, ever since you moved to the big house that almost everyone wanted. they questioned how you were able to afford it, yet, they praised you more. the house was nice, had a nice pool in the back. with a big, nice balcony overhead the patio. on top of that, it was much more spacious on the inside than out, it almost felt surreal when you stepped in.

and on top of that, you had already liked your neighbors. this one grandmother and gigi next door loved and adored you. you were of age and weening off the liquid alcohol, so you only really ate anything that wasnt too strong or no alcoholic based food or beverages. luckily, you found satoru who actually enjoyed it— she didnt mind, of course. she treated you like her own, always looking forward to sitting with her on a rocking chair drinking a arnold palmer.

yet, you were still excited to see this party down at some house that was obviously satorus’. you did feel nervous at first, no lying there. hell, you were new, so was it a problem?

the wall’s reverberated with the music, the hum and the rough beat pulsing through your veins all around you. you looked around yourself, damn. maybe everyone in the neighborhood was a alcoholic or just turned eighteen. you couldnt tell, the way they had two cups in hand and drank from both of them. on top of that, they mixed white alcohol and brown, like fucking idiots.

yet, again. both his ocean eyes and your colored ones were locked onto each other, leaving leading glances from across the room until he was buzzing to come over to you.

“new girl.” he chortled, leaning down to your face and holding his cup. you smelled it— yeah, that was malibu and henny mixed together.. idiot. he was more than buzzing, drunk even maybe. “you– doing alright?”

“yeah, i’m good.” you replied, watching how the tips of his ears were red and his nose looking like rudolf.

it felt like nothing was ever there, like no one was there. the way his lips crashed down to yours, a hand on your hip and him giggling in the kiss. “been meaning to ask how you greet people!” he tipsily says, ruffling your hair and taking his leave.

yet, something felt like he tells you to follow him.

so you, a girl that was so easy to get her heart racing, followed him to some random vacant room. he only giggled and hiccuped when you spoke about your move and how you only just started your freshman year of college, and he swirled his drink in the cheap plastic red cup.

he nods every now and again, a hand inching up your thigh and resting his head on your shoulder. it got you running hot, feeling how much thicker the air was and how his breathing matched yours. another hand groped a breast, him whining yet moaning at the contact.

his nips at your neck, snickering when you rambled about “what are you doing?” or whatever you said. he didnt care.

he simply knew that it would be a good idea to claim you before anyone else did.

and thats how you got here, a drunken satoru gojo between your legs. ontop of that, he was eating your pussy– no, slobbering all over it. was that what alcohol did to people? make their arousals more potent and make them more nasty than anything? hell if you fucking knew it.

his fingers were covered in what you truthfully believed was his spit, but it was ninety percent spit, ten percent arousal from you. and he piston it into your clenched walls.

he scooted up to your face, leaving a sloppy kiss on you lips, then your cheek as he slips himself in, until you hissed and tapped on him.

“whats wrong?” he asks, stopping himself and looking into your eyes. “too big?”

“no– well, maybe…” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and looking away. “just.. go slow.”

his eyes dilate, he instantly knew what that meant.

you were a virgin, and you were allowing hims to take your virgin mary body and ravage it with all of his might. he grits his teeth, keeping himself from groaning and rolling his eyes back.

he does as promised, slipping away into your velvet walls and keeps himself there, allowing your shaking legs to subside and giving pepper kisses along your jaw to soothe your aching. you look up, nodding your head.

“you can, start now.” you pause in between, moaning instantly as you feel him pull away, slamming himself back in.

it felt pornographic the way his thrusts were, the ‘plap, plap, plaps’ that echoed and your moans drowned out by the music of eight bit playing in the back, it also felt so lewd the way your breasts bounced up from the sheer force of the ravaging nine inches he gave you.

and be damned if he could draw a orgasm while having you cream all over him. because thats what just happened whenever he hit that spot that does feel foreign at first, but with the way his mean fat tip was, it felt like heaven. and he was no better, deciding that since it was your first time, he would spurt himself all on your pretty nipples.

yet, usually he never went for the experienced women, because he knows once you start having sex, you crave it more than anything.

fortunately for you, he would enjoy you.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x black reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #satorugojo #dvorahasks

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six-eyed-samurai · 4 months ago

Text

SUMMARY: Yuji's picked up skating and Choso wants to as well - problem is, he's got two left feet. And that's where you, Yuki's extremely good-looking friend, come in. A/N: SINCERELY SORRY IF YOU GUYS CAN'T SKATE ice skating is a pastime of mine and grrrr Choso skating was doing things to me. Requested by the lovely @ash4ree, I hope you like it! WARNINGS: GN reader, modern AU where Choso and Yuki run a tattoo parlour and no swears this time I swear (whoops, one right there)

“…Kamo, I think you better let me take over the cashier. You’re really spacing out hard.”

“Huh - what - oh, sorry, Yuki.” The man shook himself out of his daze, running a tense hand through the untidy strands falling out of his two spiky buns. He takes the proffered thermos and downs a gulp of coffee, grimacing and opening his mouth to fan his tongue. “Crap, I forgot it was hot.”

“Case in point,” the blonde announces, gently elbowing him away from the counter. “Go get your lunch break, dummy. You’re not helping sales if you just stand there staring out the store like a creep. Did something happen?”

Choso reluctantly peeled himself away and began looking for his packed lunch. “Not really.”

“Not sleep well last night?”

“No, no, I slept fine.”

“Well, you’ve been doing a pretty good job with latest customer’s tattoos, so it can’t possibly be work related…” Yuki tapped her chin. “Did you poke yourself with the a needle by mistake again?’

“It was one time.”

“You’ve got that constipated look,” Yuki hummed and wished she had a camera to capture Choso’s protesting, open-mouthed expression. “Wait, wait, I’ve got it! Yuji?”

“Well…” Choso’s face softened, as it usually did whenever someone mentioned his younger brother. It was usually followed by a long winded ramble about whatever Yuji had been doing yesterday, accompanied by aggressively showing photos and rhetorical questions. Yuki was sure this time he had something else to say so she stuck around, but if he was going to start she was going to exclaim that she had to go somewhere important or distract him with the ever trusty “have you put up the new tat designs yet?”.

“You remember his friend, Megumi?”

“Gojo’s kid? Yeah, I remember him; porcupine hair, grumpy face, about yea high?”

“That’s the one. Anyways, he and his sister - Tsumiki, I think - took up ice skating recently.”

“Rich people thing, but what does this have to do with Yuji?”

“Now Yuji wants to learn to skate as well.” Choso awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

Yuki raised her eyebrows. “If it’s about money I keep telling you you can take all the tips-”

“No, it’ll be unfair if we don’t split!” Noble as always was Choso. Sigh. “Money’s not the problem. Gojo’s happy to sponsor and all I have to do is send him off to the rink anyway…”

“So what IS the problem?” Yuki prodded.

“…I tried to go with him yesterday.” Choso groaned and put his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to skate. At all.”

“You can learn, it can’t be that bad.”

“It was. I fell down about thirty times, Yuji counted. I can’t believe even Megumi is doing better than me.” Choso’s face turned wistful. “Yuji said it’s okay if I didn’t go with him next time, but I do, you know?”

Yuki, unfortunately, did know. Choso was THAT dream brother, the one who enthusiastically got into everything you did. The one who never, ever missed a single important competition, performance or playdate in your life. The one who did his absolute best to never embarrass you (obviously he did sometimes, but only because he was so proud of Yuji). The one who if you said you wanted the moon to be hung in your bedroom, he’ll hang the moon in your bedroom.

No surprise he would want to try and bond with Yuji with his latest hyper-fixation.

No surprise either he’d worry that he’d be making Yuji embarrassed that his big brother was such a klutz in the ice rink.

“It’ll be cool to skate together,” Choso finished hopefully.

Briefly Yuki flashed back to the time Yuji wanted tattoos like his elder brother and she had to talk him out of actually considering giving Yuji real, permanent tats, compromising with those tacky but washable ones.

“But even the staff there couldn’t help me.”

Now, the imaginary commentator would bellow, may we be proud to present, Yuki Tsukumo here to save the day!

Yuki smirked and slung a hand over his shoulders, a grin too wide to not be sneaky. “Don’t worry, Kamo! Big Sis Yuki’s got your back - I know someone who’ll be more than happy to help you if I pull in a couple of favors!”

“Really?” Predictably Choso brightened considerably. “Woah, thanks-”

“But first.” Yuki pushed him away to loom over him at arms length, eyes narrowed, assessing. “You haven’t answered me. What’s your type?”

***

“Hi Yuji.”

“Megumi! Guess what! Choso’s going to be skating today!” Yuji nimbly jumped inside the car, practically vibrating with excitement as he plopped down next to Megumi.

“With us?” The dark-haired boy’s usual frown deepened slightly. “Doesn’t he keep falling though?”

Yuji smiles wide enough for everyone to see his missing tooth. “I know! It’s so funny! But-” he motioned for Megumi to come closer, cupping his hand to his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Someone else’s coming to give him lessons. Yuki-san told me so!”

“Who? Choso only has two friends and none of them know how to skate.” If Mahito, the creepy blue-haired man that the older brother sometimes hung out with did know how to ice skate…well, neither of them knew, mostly due to the fact he was too creepy to talk to despite his outwardly friendly appearance.

“You only have one friend as well, Megumi, and that’s me,” Yuji said bluntly, blissfully oblivious to Megumi’s disgruntled attitude at that statement. “I don’t know who it is but he’ll be coming soon with them to skate! That’ll be so cool if Choso made a new friend!”

Megumi flashed back to the time Yuji attempted to have the grocery store cashier “befriend” Choso, namely by having the both of them go find him when he disappeared somewhere in the freezer aisle. It did not end well but apparently his myopic friend didn’t think so. “Whatever you’d like to think.”

“Aw, Megumi, play nice! I’m sure it’ll be sooo cool if Choso made a new friend!” Up front in the passenger seat Gojo cackled, long legs awkwardly propped up on the dash. “Heavens knows he needs some. He can’t keep babysitting you, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko and Yuji and call you guys his friends.”

“Why not? I’m not his friend?” Yuji looks horrified.

“Technically you’re his brother - ow!”

Geto, the exhausted-running-on-only-caffeine driver, retracts the hand he used to rap Gojo’s head with. “Don’t act so energetic when you did nothing to help me send off all the kids.”

“Hey! I helped Tsumiki get her bag and made the twins put on jackets and literally everything else you told me to do!”

“You forgot to pack my gloves,” Megumi said flatly.

“I didn’t see you driving Tsumiki to her book club or volunteering to help at Nanako’s photography club event or arranging time for Mimiko’s ballet recital or helping get their snacks ready or go wash the dishes in the sink from breakfast, which not only did I tell you to do but it’s your turn.”

“Suguru, you really wound me.” Gojo pretended to choke on tears.

Yuji burst out laughing. “Woah, Gojo-san is really useless!”

“Is that any way to treat the man who assisted in opening your brother’s tattoo parlor, young man?”

“Geto made you,” Megumi said again.

“I’m not listening to a snot-nosed brat who can’t even tie the laces to his skates,” Gojo declared.

Geto steered the car into the drop-off point, clearing his throat to be heard as he unlocked the doors. “He’s your kid, Satoru. Anyways, kiddos, I’ll be dropping you both here. Be good, don’t do anything Gojo would and Megumi better be there when I come to pick him both up. If Choso’s taking you both out to eat though, let me know or tell him to give me a call.”

“Noted with thanks.” Megumi exited the car swiftly, but not before gesturing rudely at his guardian.

“Now where did he learn that, I wonder?” Geto muttered, side eyeing the passenger princess. Gojo ignored him.

“Bye Geto-san! Bye Gojo-san! See you guys later!” Yuji’s hand waves wildly as he hops off.

Gojo rolls down the window to catcall one more time, pushing down his sunglasses. “Hey, kid, hope you’re ready to get a new sibling~”

“What?”

“Sibling-in-law,” Geto corrected, and they drove off.

***

Yuki had told him some basic facts about you. Your name, your age, your job, for instance.

She completely neglected to mention how amazing you looked.

Choso was glad he had decided to throw in a little more effort into his wardrobe today, but he was still anxiously tugging at the collar of his black hoodie. Thankfully his hair was down as well today to hide his ears, which he had no doubt where even more pink than Yuji’s hair.

Because man oh man were you drop-dead gorgeous.

What you were wearing only enhanced what Choso was convinced was godly beauty. And damn, the way you walked with utter confidence as you approached him outside the rink, your smile brighter than the midday sun and and and - crap he can’t remember anything he could call bright now that he’s seen your smile. You’re going to put him in cardiac arrest or at the very least short circuit his brain when you walk right up and start talking in that sweet, smooth voice of yours.

What was his favorite type of music? He’d absolutely say your voice now.

“Hi! You’re Choso right?” You cover your mouth as you shyly laugh. Why’d you do that? Choso wants to see it. “Yuki told me to look for a tall guy with longish hair and a tattooed face who stands there like he got off at the wrong train station.”

Play it cool, play it cool. And because the people he mainly hangs out with are kids he says, “Yeah I’m Choso. I like your shoes.”

“Really?” You glance down and laugh again. “Oh, um, thanks, I guess.”

He kicks himself internally.

“So, Yuki said you wanted to learn how to skate to impress your brother?”

“Uh, yeah.” Choso nods. At least that didn’t sound too weird. “He picked up skating recently and I just think it’ll be nice if we could do it together, because all I can do right now is, you know, sit at the sidelines since…I’m really bad at skating.”

“It’s fine!” You said enthusiastically. “It takes a couple tries to get the hang of it, but I’m pretty hopeful I’ll get you skating by yourself in one lesson - um, not to sound arrogant. It’s pretty sweet you want to learn skating just for your brother, heh; you must really look up to him.”

“I do.” Yuji made friends so effortlessly and he was amazing at any sport he tried his hand at. Yuki could laugh at him all she liked but his opinion was his opinion. Choso shuffled his feet. “I’ll be really grateful if you can. I’ll even pay-”

“No, no, this is completely free, Choso! Don’t worry, it’s all on a favor to Yuki anyway, so if anybody pays, it’s her,” You joke, waving a hand, gratified to see him crack a nervous grin. “So…” You plodded over to the rink, so steady atop the blades of the skates. Choso takes a little while longer, wobbling uncertainly, but he thanks his lucky stars he managed to cross over without tripping like last time.

“Which one’s your brother?”

Choso proudly pointed at the kid with the fluffiest pink hair you’ve ever seen chasing his spiky-haired, brooding counterpart around the ice with the skill of an Olympics professional. “That one.”

“Oh my god.”

Choso panics when your hand slaps over your mouth and your eyes screw up closed. You sounded like you were holding back some really odd noises as well. Did he do something wrong? Oh no. “Are you okay? Are you cold or-”

“He’s a little silly.” Yuki leans across the table, with a sly look. “I’m sure he’s got a brother complex, actually. Don’t mind him if he gets really excited if you mention Yuji.”

“No, no, Yuki didn’t tell me you were this cute!”

“I-” Choso feels his face heat up like an oven and his mouth dries. “Um.”

You grab his hand and yank him into the rink. “Come on, we’ll get you skating in no time!”

***

Truly you meant what you said. Yuki didn’t tell you he was THIS cute and you were going to put her out of whack for it.

You had originally regretted bemoaning your fate of being single for so long already when you had met up with the blonde a week ago, because Yuki being Yuki she was going to grill you for a very detailed description of your type just so she could set you up with someone on a blind date. What a wicked friend - somehow she managed to set you up on one anyway, but you were going to let it slide on the fact that 1. he was really, really cute (not just in looks; so rare are grown men who want to do these things just for their little brother!) and 2. Yuki was giving you a chance to show off your stomping ground and potentially impress HIM, something you weren’t going to throw away to get back at her.

Stay calm, stay calm, you chanted to yourself as you led him out to the rink. Oh god he was so cute and anxious gingerly moving like a newborn giraffe it made you want to- Focus. Seriously.

“Try and skate, I want to see how well you can do,” you said in what you hope was a normal, level tone of voice and not a representation of how you feel when he grabbed your arm to steady himself.

“Um…I’m scared I’ll trip and take you down with me,” Choso confessed, tightening his grip just slightly (it sent you reeling). “I accidentally tripped up Yuji’s friend’s dad once.”

“It’s fine! It’ll take more than some ice to hurt me,” You assure him cheekily. “Go on, try. I’ll do my best to catch you if I fall!”

“Alright, if you say so…”

You glided closer to where he sat on his bum. “I mean, at least you managed a couple meters.”

“I did a split,” Choso groans.

“You’re quite the gymnast,” you agree and offer your hand to help him out. He catches your eye and it’s all over.

“OH MY GOD! I’M - S-SORRY, IT - IT WAS JUST - JUST SO - JUST SO FUNNY - I CAN’T - I SHOULDN’T - I SHOULDN’T BE LAUGHING BUT - OH MY GOD - YOUR FACE - “

“Stop! It’s not that funny!” Choso buries his face into his hands, pulling up the hood of his jacket. But eventually he succumbs to the humor of the situation as well.

The two of you garnered quite a number of stares as you both doubled over and laughed until you swore you needed stitches for your sides now. You both glance up, just for a moment and maybe sparks flew if Choso hadn’t lost his balance and would’ve face-planted into the ice if you hadn’t grabbed him in time.

Now you both were in a…questionable position, to say the least. He was half leaning on you, head smooshed against your side as you tried to maneuver him back to standing with suddenly stiff hands, like two waltz partners when one was dipping the other. Your heart was pounding and you wondered if he could hear it. His face was burning red; he prayed you couldn’t see it. Two pairs of eyes locked.

“Um. So.” You broke the silence first.

Choso hurriedly pushed himself away, waving his hands frantically. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was a total accident!”

Then the laughter explodes out again.

The commotion seemed to have gotten the attention of Choso’s brother and his friend as well. When you finally straightened, wiping at your streaming eyes, you came face-to-face with two gleaming brown ones as the boy grabs your hand in a tight handshake. “Hi! I’m Yuji! You must be Choso’s new friend and the one teaching him to skate?”

If Yuji wasn’t on ice you’d bet he’d be jumping up and down from glee. “I can’t wait to skate with him! He’s so bad at it he can barely take a step without slipping!”

“Yuji!” Choso can’t believe it. His beloved brother. Betraying him. Exposing him.

“Yeah, last time he tripped up Gojo,” Megumi adds. Choso could cry. Instead he puts a hand on their shoulders (he can’t bend down without falling/being unable to get up again if he’s not holding something) and leans close.

“Taiyaki if you guys don’t mention this, please.”

Yuji blinks and nods seriously, before turning back to a bewildered but entertained you. “My bad! Choso’s really good at skating! He’s never fallen down before!”

Not like that, Yuji. Choso wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. Since when were little kids this silly?

“Let’s go back to skating, Yuji. “ At least one of them feels bad for him. Megumi skates off, beckoning for his friend to follow. “We’ll leave the lovebirds to skate themselves.”

“Megumi!” Choso gasps. He took it back. All kids were merciless.

You seem more amused though, giggling. “Come on, they’re right. I said I’ll get you skating by today and skating you will be by today!”

“Alright!”

He couldn’t help but beam back. You had that effect. Addicting and contagious. Anything but detrimental though.

“Okay, let’s try that again, but this time I’ll be right behind you, so grab me if need be.”

Choso nodded. “Got it.”

You watched carefully as the man slowly struggles to skate a little distance. He nearly falls, but steadies himself quickly. After a while it’s easy to spot the problem, so you reluctantly pull yourself away from admiring his form, however shaky.

“Wait, wait, hold up here.” You skated in front of him a bit and pointed down. “Skating isn’t walking. Try imagining a scooter or a skateboard, where one foot remains unmoving while the other propels you forward. It’s not really an accurate way to skate but it worked for me on starting out.”

Choso tried not to get distracted by the smell of you and your clothes, concentrating on his feet. Think about other things, not the extremely good-looking person in front of you. Other things - don’t fall - other things…

He flashed back to the time he tried to teach Yuji to use a skateboard and fell into a ditch. Um, probably explained why he was so bad at skating.

“Hey, I’m doing it!” Choso excitedly let go of your arm and pushed himself forward a little more. “I’m doing it! I’m skating - oh woah - never mind - ouch.”

“Well, almost!” You cheered, clapping your hands and mimicking confetti falling as you skated over to help him up. “You did it! Now we just gonna work on your falling problem - I think it’s because you’re trying to go faster than you can right now.”

“It’s progress,” Choso says hopefully. He tries to get up.

“No, don’t get up like that, you’re gonna fall right down again. Put up one foot like you’re kneeling and use it to push yourself up.”

And so it went on, you directing instructions, tips and corrections to Choso while he did his best to follow them, occasionally sending your heart fluttering and your stomach twisting every time he grabbed your hand to steady himself. It was like your hands were molded to fit each other perfectly, you thought giddily, then shut off that train of thought. No! You both had just met! You were just here on a favor to Yuki! Nothing more!

“Lean forward a little more - wait, no, not that much, don’t fall for me again, haha.”

“Just relax your hands, don’t keep flailing them.”

“Come on! Go, go, go, you got this! No! Don’t look back! Pretend I’m in front of you!”

But still, you couldn’t help but flush pink at the jubilant grin decorating his face as he zipped back to you, hyped over his newfound achievement.

“I did it! I skated a whole round!”

“I know you did, congratu- oof!”

He tackled you in a tight hug, crushing your arms and your head underneath his chin but you didn’t mind. Choso was warm, awfully so after you both had spent so much time in the freezing rink, but maybe that was just his personality. You melted, and it was like gluing a cracked vase back together again - a perfect fit.

Then Choso froze and let go, pushing back. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, no worries, don’t sweat it!” You tried for a smile, even though the sudden loss of his hold left something aching in you.

He smiled again and you decided to be bold.

You spread your arms. “Can I get another one, maybe? Just to celebrate.”

***

“So, it’s just you and Yuji right now?” You took a lick of your ice cream, eyes never leaving Choso’s face. He was enjoying his own cone, although his gaze was trained on the two kids running up in front. “Man, that must’ve been rough.”

“Well, not too bad.” Choso wiped a smudge of chocolate off the corner of his lip. He didn’t quite get it, so he tried to use his tongue to lick it off. You snorted at his expression. “We’ve got an uncle - my dad’s brother - Sukuna, he’s not around much but he sends us money so financially, we’re okay. He’s a pretty busy, bigshot businessman anyway.”

“THE Ryomen Sukuna?” Your mouth fell open as you pictured the scowling, towering, tattooed man you had seen in newspapers. “Oh, wow, you just keep getting even more interesting, Choso.”

He shrugged, awkwardly smiling at the compliment. “Heh, not really. I didn’t even know we were related until like after our grandfather died. Then he showed up. He’s like the family black sheep or something, but Sukuna’s pretty okay.”

After Yuji and Megumi had finally gotten bored of the rink they had ran up to the two of you and immediately pestered Choso (mostly Yuji, Megumi just sort of tagged along) to get them food because they were going to die from hunger apparently. Choso had turned to you, with that eager puppy dog look and asked if you wanted to stay, ice cream would be his treat? Who were you to turn him down?

So that’s how you all ended up in front of the toy store now, as Yuji dragged Megumi inside while you and Choso just sort of lingered around the front, poking through the products, getting to know each other better and wistfully remarking on the joys of lost childhood.

(He was such a gentleman - offering to throw the cup your ice cream was in for you, opening the door and even - gasp - helping you remove the straps from your skates.)

“Pretty okay? He looks terrifying from his pictures,” you laugh. “I guess there’s a reason they call his business Malevolent Shrine though.”

“Don’t even get me started on-”

“Choso! Choso! Check these out!”

The two younger boys burst through the racks, Yuji grinning and Megumi not quite scowling as they held up two matching wolf plushies, one white and the other black. The Divine Dogs line of toys, if you remembered correctly. They were pretty cute, you had to admit.

“Oh hey, you two are back.” Choso took a quick look at the plushies and raised his eyebrows. “Do you want them or something?”

“Nope! I think you should get them!”

You nearly spat.

“…what? And…why?”

“So you can match with my new sibling?”

“Sibling?!” Poor Choso looks confused.

“Sibling-in-law,” Megumi corrects blankly, and points at you.

At once the two of you suddenly found the floor really interesting. My, my, who knew the cracks in the tiles would make such beautiful patterns. Hmm, a speck on your shoe as well.

“But I think that's for after marriage,” Megumi continues like absolutely nothing happened.

Yuji frowns, then lights up again before shoving the plushies towards Choso. “Then you gotta marry them quick, Choso, before anyone else does! Maybe you could get matching tattoos or something, after the plushies! You guys were so cute skating around together, like a real coo-ple!”

“Couple,” Megumi corrected.

“We’re not-!”

“Um, what-?”

“Hey, can I be best man at the wedding?” Yuji waved the plushy at your face.

Choso wanted the floor to swallow him up. You decide to save him and yourself.

“…it’s too early for marriage,” You begin before Choso’s panic instincts kick in.

“I’m so sorry! I apologize on their behalf, it must make you uncomfortable! Yuji, Megumi, don’t ever say that, we just met and we’re just hanging out like friends-”

“Hey, let me finish!” You lightly dig your elbow into his side, the corner of your lip tugging up. “It’s too early for marriage but I wouldn’t say no to a date, if you asked.”

Choso bough the plushies after he finished fainting.

#Sunny's Works #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso fluff #jjk x reader

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cacti-are-like-flamingos · 1 year ago

Text

Wasted Oxygen...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Mr. Sandman

...

Despite being the ever energetic guy he was, Haibara loved to sit down and people-watch. Silently observing others go about their daily business, unaware of their audience as they freely express themselves through large and small mannerisms.

He'd always make sure to find a nice cozy spot, somewhere a bit hidden so no one could see his lingering eyes. If Kento was here, he'd been stating how inappropriately creepy he was being. He could already hear him hehe

Regardless of what his partner would think, the raven-haired boy could easily spend hours observing the world interact with itself. If he was lucky enough, he'd see an entire movie unfold right before his eyes.

Most of the time, though, he tried to call upon his inner Sherlock. Using the art of deduction to figure out the possible stories from every passer-goer.

Usually, it'd be more fun with you considering your extraordinary ability to deduce people to downright filth.

The two of you hanging out, making up stories for every person that caught either of your eyes had become a little routine of yours, one that started from his days of teaching you Japanese. He'd tell you certain words while discreetly pointing to people who embodied said words --- he hadn't expected for you to suddenly start rambling about the possible nuisances of each and every person you saw

And the fact that you had no filter made it worse! The amount of times he had to cover for you after you'd accidentally said something rather insulting about a person who stood close enough to hear --- double digits!

Regardless, it's the same reason as to why you're the most attuned person in terms of others emotions --- once you notice the patterns, you'll see them everywhere is what you'd often say to him

Although, it did leave him wondering. Just how were you so good at people-reading? Is that how you got along with those two so well? Because you knew instantly what they were about the moment you met them?

No, that can't be. On numerous occasions, you've complained about how Gojo and Suguru confused you. You claimed that they were like a whole new different breed of soul that you've never come across before.

Haibara blinked

Souls. The first time he heard about your Cursed Technique, he had to admit --- he'd never heard of a technique like yours.

Cursed Sight: Chains, a cursed technique that bestows its user with the ability to perceive the spiritual and see the souls of living beings as well as curses. The way it works is rather simple, or so, that's how you mentioned it to be.

As one knows, everything is made up of energy. So by simply channeling your own cursed energy, you can manipulate the strands into forming objects. By focusing well enough, you could bring said objects into the physical world: however, there was a catch.

You could never break eye contact.

The technique had great potential. Just visualize the item you need and Wala! It's there. (You had a preference for chains ghost rider type beat. You'd chain curses down to limit its movements prior to going for the kill. In times where the Curse proved too strong, you'd hold it down while continuously attacking it with an already cursed energy-imbued weapon)

To be honest, your fights were quite the spectacle. The way you expertly used your chains to capture curses, the way you used the ends of the chains to destroy them with such force --- ooh la la (aizawa x ghost rider's love child)

We're getting side tracked --- point is, your ability allowed you to see people's essence. You knew when they lied, you knew what they felt, their soul usually said everything you needed to know (you confessed that the soul only shows the most general of feelings so that's why you depended on deducting to truly understand people's intentions)

One major down side, you could never turn it off. I don't think you've ever really seen someone's face much less your own. Bodies are shaped around the soul, and the soul is always so blinding with its different hues. At least, the silhouettes had somewhat of expressions. (Further clarification, it's like cutting out human shape out of colored paper. Just three-dimensional. AH, THINK GOD FROM FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST but include the shape of hair and outfits) You could see the shapes of their eyes, the slope of their nose, and the curve of their lips.

(and now, you're probably asking -- but OP, what about clothes? How do we have a sense of style if we can't see the look when we look in the mirror? That is true. Wearing outfits will just accentuate your soul's shape. But the moment it's off and on a hangar, you can see it plain as day since it's soulless on its own. Also Ieiri helps you, sometimes even Yaga if you're that desperate)

"You're going to hurt yourself from thinking so hard, Haibara." There you are! You even brought, "Hiya!" "Senpai!" Gojo glared at you, "Meh, why aren't you ever this respectful? Hm? You have to respect our customs, foreigner!"

You scoff, "I do respect your customs, just not you."

"Bitch."

"Masochist."

"Masochist?! The hell is that for?"

"You like me insulting you, your soul lives for it. Got a degradation kink, old man?" "Who the fuck you calling old man for?! I'm just a year old-" "Haibara~! Let's go get something to eat!" "O-Oi! Don't run away, pussy!" You stick your tongue out at him as you pull Haibara by the arm, dragging him to some nearby tall selling takoyaki

You spent the entire day ignoring Gojo, who sulked behind you and Haibara as you dragged said male all around Roppongi where you were supposed to meet up with one other. Yep, you guessed it!

Mei Mei!

(don't you just love mixing friend groups and praying to whatever god is out there that it all works out? 😁)

Mei Mei couldn't care less about Haibara, though she did seem to acknowledge him as somewhat worth having around in regards to his 'service potential', but honestly, her indifference was palpable

Instead, Mei Mei focused on you, whose face held a dreamy look as the pretty woman spoke to you with that lovely sing-song voice of hers (she still HELLA sus iykyk but for the sake of this, she ain't. She's just greedy here)

Gojo was irked by how close Mei Mei got to you, his face unbelievably stoic as he watched you and Mei Mei interact (cue that anime angry mark and eyebrow twitch)— Mei Mei acting like a sugar mama to you as the white-haired woman walked you around pointing at shit she knew you'd like.

Ah, I can already hear some of you confused --- specifically the ones who are really into canon.

You see, Mei Mei does nothing out of the goodness of her heart. No, no. Greed is the very foundation of her character. And so, it would make sense that she wouldn't just spend her money on anyone just for the hell of it.

And so, the truth. You and Mei Mei had this secret arrangement --- in return for a few favors and pieces of key-information that she can't quite get from her watchful crows, Mei Mei would pay for your services. Usually, she'd just send the cash over but whenever the two of you are together, she'd provide you a little shopping spree. (No-one knows about this btw)

Despite the previous, it was evident that Mei Mei liked you. She saw you as her favorite little Kouhai, mainly because of how resourceful you could be, and the way your personalities seemed to mesh well together was exquisite in her opinion.

(Side Note: Your relationship with her is incredibly on-the-surface. The reason why you get along so well is because you adapt yourself to her personality. I wouldn't say you're a people-pleaser, although you are, but more of a subtle manipulating type of thing. Idk how to put it)

You weren't at all annoying like the others. Additionally, you had a higher chance of reaching your service potential than any other (i don't even know if that's a compliment or an insult and I wrote it 🤪)

Gojo wasn't a big fan of Mei Mei spoiling you, and it led to a whole day of the two of them kind of fighting to show off who could spoil you the most (though it may or may not have been your plan from the get-go).

The situation became more obvious to Haibara when you wrapped your arm around his, a wicked smile upon your lips as you quietly inquired from Haibara what he wanted. Not fully grasping the scheme, he answered, and then you'd claimed as your current desire, which Mei Mei and Gojo would then buy immediately.

Eventually, Kento joins after receiving a SOS text message from Haibara. At the sight of the two wordlessly seething cotton swabs with you smirking in front of them, Kento dragged him away (he only greeted you, he could care less about the other two)

While Mei Mei was preoccupied with a phone call, and Gojo was off buying something sweet for you and spicy for Suguru, to eat together later — you found yourself sitting at the same spot Haibara had been sitting earlier.

There was someone next to it, but that didn't stop you as you plopped yourself down, attention focused on the people walking by. Blissfully unaware of the minor curses that plagued them.

Sometimes, if you felt merciful, you would destroy the curse. Weaker curses didn't require you to physically manifest your chains; a small, invisible chain was all it took to loop around the curse and squeeze them to death.

"Never seen a technique like yours, foreigner."

At the stranger's words, you paused. You hadn't sensed any cursed energy from the person sitting next to you, so how could they have known? Glancing to your side, you tilted your head in slight confusion as you examined the man sitting next to you

"what happened to 'hello'? 'how are you'? To introductions, in general?" There was a slight tease to your words yet your fingers subtly twitched by your side

The raven-haired man snorted in amusement, a slight smirk on his lips as he leaned back against the wall of the bench. His hands were in his pockets as he didn't once look your way.

"How long have you been here with them?" Something in his voice had put you on edge, but at the same time, you didn't feel imminently in danger.

"Long enough, give or take."

He made a face, "Like it, so far?"

You shrugged your shoulders, your eyes still on his silhouette as you answered, "Neutral, so far."

"So you haven't been here long enough," he sassed back earning a short snort from you.

"Oh? Why's that?" "You'll see, soon enough." And with that, he stood up, walking away from you without another word. You stared at his soul, watching it get tinier with every step he took.

You had met many dark blues, but the edges of his were... fuzzy. Not clearly definable. That was new.

Surprisingly, you didn't feel shook or concerned. You actually felt a rush of excitement, the sort you got from trying to solve the mystery of some crime show before the narrator could even reveal the truth.

Suddenly, Gojo appeared in the corner of your eye, his sunglasses pulled down his nose as his iridescent eyes gazed down at you.

His eyes were the only ones you had ever truly seen. You thought it was because of his Six-Eyes.

"Yo! Got the drugs," he said, to which you replied with a casual "Hm."

He narrowed his eyes, "What happened?"

So observant

You perked up, "What?"

He repeated, a small frown on his lips, "What happened?"

You shrugged, "Just an... interesting encounter, that's all."

Gojo knew better. But he also knew you.

"Alright, let's go. Mei Mei already left, and she wanted me to give you this," he said with displeasure in his voice as he threw a bag into your lap—a luxury brand bag. But not before handing you yet another bag, another luxury brand.

With a sense of curiosity, you gently untied the bag's ribbon and opened it, revealing a small box inside. Your fingers carefully lifted the lid, revealing the gift within as you opened the box

A single earring, a crescent moon hanging from it. It's metal glimmering under the setting sun (wow, time passed fast today)

"Now we can match!" Gojo said. Showing off his wrist, a silver bracelet with a sun hanging from it.

You snorted, "What about Suguru, hm?" (While you asked, you put the earring on without another moment's notice)

He rolled his eyes, revealing another bag matching your own, "His is here...ya like it, tho?"

Having stood up from where you sat, you smiled softly as you affectionately bumped your head onto his shoulder before motioning for him to walk with you. (You didn't get to see his grin, but you could feel it.)

"Let's go home, Gojo," you said, with Mei Mei's gift loosely wrapped around your wrist, knowing it could wait.

...

(A/N): Ugh, I keep having to come back to fix certain things so it can better fit my narrative. I keep writing these shits while being tired af, and when I wake up --- I forget my own canon 🙄

Anyways

Who do you think the rando guy is?

Also did you notice how you immediately checked Gojo's gift rather than Mei Mei's? In fact, you completely ignored her gift to you.

Moreover, have any of you noticed that whenever you get to know someone --- their name alters? I wonder what that implies for certain people.

And what does a fuzzy outline mean?

This was also supposed to take another turn but then the characters charactered and here we are now.

Drop a comment

Feel free to buy me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

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otakubimbo · 5 months ago

Text

Tell Me It Was A Lie

pt 2

What happens when Gojo tries to drink you away?

OB note: since you asked, @laviefantasie this is part 2 to this ask, i guess this a resolution?

masterlist

His whiskey tasted like water, a bad sign. The fact that Satoru Gojo, the known lightweight, was drinking whiskey at all was a bad sign. But here he was, in this shit hole of a bar way past drunk alone. He was alone when he should be with you, alone when he should have been with you, he should have –

It was all too late anyway, you were gone, you left him. He knew it was his fault that you left, you deserved better, you deserved someone who could love you. That wasn’t him, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t, the last person he loved… he didn’t even want to think about him right now. All he could think about was you, you, and how he fucked up the only good thing in his life.

With a final tilt of his glass, he knew he couldn’t stay here any longer he could barely see straight as it was. Fumbling around in his pocket he pulls out his phone, calling the only person who he thought would pick up for him besides you, Shoko.

The phone rings a few times before a groggy voice answers, if Gojo weren’t so drunk he would probably take that as unusual, Shoko was always up at this hour.

“I’m drunk” his words slurred through the phone as he heard a groan as if the person on the other line was trying to sit up.

“You don’t drink,” Shoko says in an uncharacteristically concerned voice.

“I know but….” His voice is shaken, trying to keep his composure while still in a public space, “just come get me, please”

There was a moment of silence before there was any response from the other end of the phone.

“Alright, send me your location”

You find Satoru face down on the bar. Lord, why did you even agree to come pick him up, you think? While you walk over to him tapping him on the shoulder to wake him up.

“Wake up Gojo I’m here to take you home” As irritated as you were to be there you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked asleep; he was always so much at the point of stress he never actually looked relaxed unless he was completely asleep. You may have missed that; you may have missed him.

He slowly blinks to look up at you, confused as to why you were there.

“Shoko, I drank so much I’m hallucinating, you look like my beautiful y/n,” his hand sways as it reaches out to touch your face, you take a step back not wanting him to touch you, not wanting to be in the position to resist his touch.

“Come on, let me take you home” you sigh lightly as you duck your head under his outstretched arm to help him up. As soon as the two of you make it to your car, you practically toss him in the backseat, he didn’t even attempt to hold his weight as you exited the bar.

“I miss her so much” his slurred whines come from the backseat as you drive.

“It’s been a week,” you say with a roll of your eyes “and if you missed her that much why not tell her yourself” For someone who claimed he missed you, he sure didn’t act like it. You hadn’t heard from him since you broke up with him.

“Because she hates me, I……. I made her hate me” his voice cracks as he holds back a sob, was he crying??? Before you could even respond he continues rambling, “She was everything to me and I just got so scared. After Suguru…… I just never thought I would actually fall in love with someone. Every person I love I lose and now I lost her cause of my stupidity. I’m supposed to be the strongest and I can’t even handle falling in love. This is stupid, I’m stupid. I love her Shoko.” At this point he is sobbing, he’s already taken off his glasses, his arm is covering his face as he cries over you. He’s crying over you. You had known a little about Suguru, but he didn’t talk about him much or at all. He was the reason that Satoru couldn’t tell you he loved you? He was scared? Scared of losing you? You never even thought of that, you couldn’t imagine that one of the most confident people you’ve ever met was afraid of losing you. But why??? It didn’t make sense, all the canceled dates, all the ignored texts, not even telling you he loves you.

“But she loves you” Your voice was barely above a whisper but you knew he heard you.

“And what happened to the last person who loved me? HES DEAD. And I would rather her hate me than lose her forever, never be able to see her smile or hear her laugh. It’s better this way” he barely gets out, his voice getting quieter.

“Then why didn’t you break up with her?” You ask as your hands grip the steering wheel, willing yourself not to cry, not to break down right now on the highway.

“Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t let her go. I love her too much to just have let her go Shoko,” the pain in his voice was evident despite how slurred his speech was. “I love her, she can’t die, she can’t leave”

Almost immediately after that, he passes out, you let out a shaky breath not knowing what to do from here. You knew you had to take him home, but you didn’t think you had the heart to leave him in his state and you didn’t even think how you would get him up into his penthouse. You resigned yourself to just taking him to your condo, you didn’t have any stairs and you could let him use your bed, it wouldn’t be the first time you slept on your couch. You choose to take him to your house instead, trying to drive as gently as possible as he sleeps in the back seat.

Once at your place, it’s another struggle to get him into your place but you successfully guide him to your room and onto your bed, taking off his shoes and pants so that he can have some type of comfortability. As you finish pulling the covers over him to leave, he grabs your wrist.

“Please, I love you, don’t go.” He says with his blue eyes piercing into you and you give in, sliding into your bed next to him as he pulls your body flush to him. “I love you” he whispers one last time before passing out again, not letting go of you the entire night.

The morning sun is what greeted Satoru, his eyes strained at the light and the banging on his head from the evident hangover. He sat up, attempting to collect his thoughts on where he was and what the hell had happened last night. As the bits and pieces came back to him, his face heated up with embarrassment. He called you not Shoko last night, he confused his love for you to you and not Shoko, and on top of everything he made you cuddle with him after crying in your backseat. He groans again, rubbing his temples and looking for wherever his sunglasses were, finding them right next to a glass of water, medicine, and what seems to be a note from you.

As he puts back on his shades, swallowing the medicine you left for you hoping it doesn’t take long to kick in he picks up the note you left,

Satoru, I’m sure you have a major hangover so I left some water and meds, if you meant everything you said last night we can talk when I get back from work. I love you.

Gojo could almost cry from joy, you still loved him, and you were so willing to still give him a chance, he wasn’t going to fuck this up again, he wasn’t going to push you away, he wasn’t going to lose you because he loved you, he was in love with you and he wasn’t going to let fear make his decisions. He was the strongest after all.

#angst #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #breakup #break up to make up #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo

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anyon-else · 2 years ago

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— broadway star w/ gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, choso, toji fushiguro, nanami kento – main masterlist

— warnings: nsft (minors do not interact!), smut, oral, implied fem!reader for nanami

GOJO SATORU | the cheerleader but in an obnoxious way

during your performances, gojo is the loudest. person. there. it would be sweet if it wasn't so disruptive to the people around him. he doesn't care though. you're his star. how can anyone expect him to stay quiet and not give you the praise you deserve?

if you're in a comedy, you can hear him laughing over the crowd from your place on the stage. if it's a drama, any applause is nearly drowned out by his cheering.

he can't help it. he loves seeing you perform, and he's always just so proud of you. the way he expresses that is being the loudest motherfucker in the audience. he also has some of your lines memorized from when he runs them with you, and he'll mouth along with you and your costars without even realizing it.

when you do run lines, he's such a menace about it. if you get all of them right, he insists that you have to take a break for your reward. said reward is different every time—sometimes he'll massage your shoulders, sometimes he'll insist that you need to wind down with your head in his lap while you watch a shitty sitcom, but most times he ends up buried between your thighs (it's as much of a reward for him as it is for you).

he'll also come to your shows with a big bouquet of flowers that can barely fit with him in his tiny auditorium seat. he shoves them beneath the chair, and when you finally receive them, half of them are crumbled and missing most of their petals. you still love them though, and even the ruined ones are displayed proudly in a vase at home.

SUKUNA RYOMEN | a nuisance

when you first tell him what you do for a living, he is so annoying about it. he claims that it's a useless profession, and it doesn't add anything to your life other than idle entertainment. it would be hurtful if it had been said by anyone else, but he truly just didn't understand the appeal of live entertainment. or any modern entertainment, for that matter.

(that's not to say that he wouldn't light up anyone who said the same thing. only he's allowed to bully you about your job).

after a few months of dating, you finally convince him to come to one of your shows. lets say its a musical drama (think les mis, wicked, etc.) and he gets to hear you sing. My God. he'll never ever admit it, but he couldn't take his eyes off of you the entire show. he had no idea that you were so talented (mostly because he doesn't understand how prestigious broadway really is).

when you meet him after the show, you're almost giddy when he tells you that you did a good job (though it was half-hearted). he can see your excitement and tries to backtrack before you can accuse him of getting soft, claiming that he still thinks it's was a waste, but you saw him applauding at your curtain call with a small, fond smile on his face. you'd almost forgotten to stand to the side when you costar was called out, too fixated on the rare show of happiness on his face.

"thank you for coming," you whisper that night, head on his chest and hand tracing the tattoos on his shoulder, "i know you didn't want to."

he mutters something, and you lift your head and rest your chin on his chest, "what was that?"

"when's your next show?" he repeats, unable to meet your eyes as a light pink dusts his cheeks.

CHOSO | the cheerleader but in a sweet way

brings an appropriately sized bouquet and keeps it from getting crushed while he watchs the show.

literally has a lovesick smile on his face the entire time you're on stage, and he does get a little bit loud when it comes time for curtain call. he's just so proud of you, he can't help it.

will not stop telling you how talented you are and how beautiful you looked on stage. he'll ramble about specific parts of your performance, both to show you that he was paying close attention and because he's a closet theater nerd.

he sometimes comes to rehearsals, and you'll come sit with him when you're not in scenes and just lean your head on his shoulder while you both watch your costars perform. you'll lift your head and whisper little fun facts about the show in his ear while you watch. he has a hard time focusing completely on the information with you so close to him, but he does his very best.

will ask for a kiss before you go back on stage. does not care that it's embarrassing and he looks whipped out of his mind. it's because he is whipped out of his mind.

TOJI FUSHIGURO | old man

literally whips out his ancient flip phone the second you get on stage and starts recording even though you explicitly told him that it wasn't allowed.

nothing will stop him. he'll play dumb if someone tries to rat him out. he claims that he barely knows how to text on this "old piece of junk," much less use the camera.

he loves going back and watching the grainy videos on his itty bitty screen, especially when he's away for work and has to miss a show. even though you're approximately one centimeter long on his screen and it's nothing like the real thing, it always brings a smile to his face.

he also loves practicing lines with you. like gojo, he will get very distracted, but he just ends up turning it into some porn scene, changing the lines into something straight out of a shitty erotic novella.

"something just comes over me sometimes...i'm sorry, madame."

"i can think of a way you can make it up to me."

he's so cringe. you don't try to stop him when he manhandles you to the bed though.

NANAMI KENTO | the respectful one (kind of)

he also brings you flowers, but he makes sure not to be too noisy as he applauds you and your costars at the end of the show. he doesn't want to disturb the people around him, and he doesn't want to embarrass you.

however, he is so proud of you, and he makes sure you know it. he's also very clingy after your shows, constantly grabbing your hand and whispering that you did amazing in your ear until you get home (i feel like he's not very into pda, so this is as good as it gets).

his favorite part of your broadway career is the characters you play. sometimes you try to stay in character for parts of the day while you're at home as an exercise, and his guilty pleasure is you roleplaying certain characters in the bedroom LMAO.

he was so embarrassed to bring it up the first time, but you were playing roxie in chicago and he was obsessed. he couldn't help but ask that you stay in character while you were on your knees in front of him.

you got to bring home the dress that you wear for the song "roxie" and he literally cannot keep his hands off of you. he asked if you would wear it while he fucked you (which is lowkey the reason you brought it home). you could not walk the next morning.

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waterfallofspace · 1 year ago

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Obedience.

Using ~this lovely prompt~ from the incredible @onetrickponi for our dear G/ojo.

Inumaki Translation Key: “Bonito flakes” -Negative/Negation “Salmon” -Affirmation “Kelp” -Greeting “Caviar” -Curse/Expletive

Characters: G/ojo, N/anami, I/numaki, Y/uji, M/egumi, N/obara, P/anda, and M/aki. (All platonic) Word Count: 2.7k

(References to mild coughing, and swearing!)

~~~~~~~

Gojo Satoru is an infamous name in Jujutsu.

Some of the most powerful curse techniques the world has seen, abilities matched only by his intelligence. Not a sorcerer in Japan would deny knowing of him. Yet, ask what comes to mind when you say his name, and power is not the first word to drip off their tongue.

The exact vocabulary will depend on which lips you pry it from. Higher ups would call him a nuisance. His students may call him aggravating. Fellow sorcerers have been known to use the term irritant.

No matter who you ask, however, the sentiment rings true. Gojo Satoru is a troublemaker who dances the fine line between ‘loveable’ and ‘prick’.

As with everything he does, Gojo is skilled at walking the tightrope of annoyance. Most of the time he’s careful to be as close to exasperating as possible, without actually being insensitive, unless it’s to higher ups.

Most of the time. Then there are days, like last week, where the line is crossed with someone the students care about, and a little payback is required. It’s Inumaki’s turn to get the honours, which he accepts with a graceful “Salmon,” and a smirk.

This is how a few students find themselves squished against the school, eagerly peeking around corners to watch the scene unfold.

“Kelp!” Inumaki calls, gesturing for his fellow second years to gather around. Maki leans against the wall, Panda dropping to the floor and getting comfortable. Standing a few paces away from his target, Inumaki’s careful to measure the distance. Close enough to be obeyed, far enough to stay hidden.

Down the field, the demonstration is about to begin.

~~~

“-which leads me to the best part, so Megumi has no idea I’m even there,” Gojo rambles, hands painting spirals through the air. “And I saw him duck into the candy store, which was on my list anyways, so I’m follow-”

“Satoru, I believe you asked me here for help with a demonstration,” Nanami cuts in, glancing at his watch as he rearranges his glasses. “I clock out in less than an hour. Is this really how you want to spend the time?”

Nobara chuckles from behind her phone, gesturing towards Gojo. “Pretty sure he’d be thrilled to waste it gossiping. Meanwhile there’s a sale downtown, so if we’re not gonna get to it..?”

“You people are no fun,” Gojo whines, tilting his glasses to meet Nanami’s eye. “Especially you.”

Nanami sighs, tapping Yuji on the shoulder and gesturing to Megumi. “Get his attention please.”

“One of the most boring people I’ve ever met, Nanami.”

“Well then,” Nanami pauses as a whack- sounds out from behind him followed by Yuji groaning. Another sigh raises in his chest. “Good thing my self worth doesn’t rest on what an immature sorcerer thinks of me.”

Still rubbing his head, Yuji walks back over, Megumi following behind, pointedly refusing to lift his gaze to the teachers. Gojo seems to consider this ‘good enough’, as he begins to get in position, still huffing slightly at the insult tossed his way.

“Alright guys, and girls~” Gojo adds with a snap in Nobara’s direction, prompting an eye roll from everyone in the group. “Time to get serious. This lesson is about hand-to-hand combat, with no cursed energy.”

Nobara offers a noncommittal hum, clicking away at her phone. Megumi still refuses to acknowledge anything but the bench he’s sitting on. Hesitantly, Yuji raises his hand, waiting till Gojo points at him.

“Uh- Gojo sensei, didn’t you just teach me how to add cursed energy..?”

“Correct! However, that’s because you’re already quite strong on your own. Fighting styles will be important for your growth, but it matters less with your brute strength.”

Pausing, Gojo gestures to Megumi. “Someone like him needs to be constantly polishing their hand-to-hand skills, since he lacks the physical endurance you naturally possess.”

“Oh, I see! Because he’s not as stron-” Nobara giggles as Yuji massages the back of his head again, Gojo failing to hold back a snicker. Rolling his eyes with another deep sigh, Nanami takes his position, gesturing for Gojo to get on with it.

“So, for this demonstration I will turn off my infinity so our dear Nanami stands a chance~.”

“Why don’t you stop talking and get on with it?” Nanami retorts, nodding to his watch. “Forty-five minutes.”

Finally starting to begin, Gojo lets infinity turn off, placing his hand on Nanami’s shoulder to demonstrate an opening move. Nobara glances up every so often, still typing away at her phone. Megumi stares at the ground, but his lips seem to be repeating Gojo’s instructions. Meanwhile Yuji simply stares, captivated by each new move.

Just as Gojo leans forward for another exaggerated swing, something hits him. Or more specifically, his nose.

~”Sneeze.”~

Normally a sneeze for Gojo is a slow building process. The itch will start small, just a prickle in his sinuses, before it begins to build into a full blown need. With this one, he barely has time to duck away, pinching his nose shut with a desperate gasp.

“ah’NXGchh-! hePTTchh-! hh- kNXT’ch-! Oh, ‘scuse me.” Gojo swipes at his nose, frowning at the breathless sensation he’s left with. Normally stifling doesn’t relieve the tickle, but he should be able to do it with minimal effort.

“You okay, Sensei?” Yuji pipes up, glancing over at Megumi for confirmation. He doesn’t seem alarmed, not bothering to lift his head from his arms, feigning sleep on the bench.

A few sneezes isn’t usually something to worry about, especially not from Gojo. The man is notorious for his sensitive nose, not to mention over-the-top fits.

“Yeah, just a bit itchy. Start again. Nanami?” Nanami gives Gojo a minute to collect himself, then with a nod, takes his stance.

~”You’re not done.”~

“yiEHh’shhieuw-!”

“Watch it-” Nanami jumps back, grimacing as the first one doesn’t miss his sleeve.

“I’m- hH’GNchh-! I’m so- hehh… heptNCH-!” Gojo dives into his hand again, attempting to gasp out what sounds like an apology through the onslaught. “What the he- inchh-! en’gzchh-!”

The itch is in his nose, but the tingles spread throughout his whole body. As his head dips again and again, he feels each muscle tense. His skin is crawling. Almost like goosebumps, but invisible to the naked eye.

“Woah, Gojo sensei, what’s wrong?” A voice laced with concern calls, but all Gojo can do is hitch, dipping deeper into his palm until he’s practically smothering himself.

“hedt’chh-! ah’KDNTchh-! God I have… haveto… heh’KNCHh-!”

While he doesn’t understand exactly what’s happening, he can sense the cursed energy swarming his own. Being aware of every drop overwhelming his system only leaves him more sensitive to the intensely soft feeling burning through his nose.

“Ew, that’s so gross.” Another voice chimes in, void of concern. Still, Gojo finds himself unable to reply, entirely consumed by the maddening tickle.

“eh’tnchh-! knchhh-! hahh- DTXNchh’uu-!”

Every breath brings another sneeze dancing to the tip of his nose, waiting to burst forth. His vision blurs, the stifles not seeming to do anything to stall the exasperating itch.

~”Enough stifling.”~

And just like that, Gojo feels his hand release his nose. A panic begins to seep through his weakened mind as he realizes he didn’t choose to do that. Still, it’s overwritten by the insistent desire that’s not been quelled.

“hiHyiEShhhiuew-! yishh’hieww-! hh- tnnshh’uu-!”

He manages to get his collar over his face, muffling the bursts into the rapidly dampening fabric. “heh’mPFShhyew-! mmfffshh’iew-! eh’mffshhiueww-!”

The moisture lining his nose starts to match the oceans forming in his eyes. No amount seems to satiate the tickle. An average fit might last for a while, Gojo’s used to that, but those sneezes feel satisfying. With this tickle, each sneeze that frees itself just brings a new desperation, as if he’s allergic to the act of sneezing.

And more than that, they’re coming out as his natural ones- “hh’iSHhhieww-! tizshhyueww-!” -fittish and breathy, with a desperate twinge. Much different then the over-the-top presentations he’d normally be putting on.

“ek’tieshhhieww-! heHh- guhhh…” Only when he can get a breath in does Gojo realize everyone’s staring at him. A heat begins to rise to his cheeks, spreading up into his ears.

Nanami’s hand rests on Gojo’s arm, eyes seeming to study him carefully. “Satoru, are you alright?” There’s a humour to his voice that Gojo finds quite insulting, despite the kindness of the words.

“I’b ndot-” He pauses, sniffling hard against his wrist. It only serves to irritate his throat, light coughs pouring out. Annoying as it may be, the cough does clear the congestion enough to continue the sentence.

“I’m not sure, but I think… oh wait- hH’yiEShhhuew-! nohhht… notover- ekyiEShhh’shiew-!”

Nobara pipes up this time, phone long forgotten. “That’s disgusting.”

“ah’KESHhh’yiew-! Wow, thagnks for the sy.. sympa…hahhh…” Making the mistake of opening his eyes, Gojo’s met with the horrifying realization his glasses had fallen off during the fit. The whimper he lets out has even Megumi glancing at him in concern.

His eyes water again, lashes fluttering against the bright sunlight starting to invade his sinuses. It burns nearly as much as the cursed energy, and Gojo only manages to cast final warning before ducking back into his wrist.

“So itchy… I’mb gonda keep… hh’yIEShhh’yew-! hk’kieww-! ahh’dieuww-! hH’tieww-!”

The fittish half-sneezes leave him breathless. It’s as if his nose is too sensitive, unable to even form a proper sneeze from the depth of the itch. His eyes snap open, just to plummet back shut as the flash from Megumi’s phone sends him back into hysterics.

“ihh’kieww-! tchhieww-! ak’tiew-! hh’diueew-!”

Through the fit, he manages to catch Nanami pulling the phone from Megumi’s hand, muttering something about ‘he has it bad enough’, quickly followed by ‘send me those after.’ The burning in his cheeks deepens, and for a second he considers attempting to warp out of there.

“ahn’chhuew-! kn’diew-!” That fantasy dies as quick as it was born.

Grumbling under his breath, Gojo attempts to glare at them, failing spectacularly. “You’re all th- hnn’diew-! ekieww-! ahh’tIEShhuu-! The worst. hK’ENchhiew-! hheHh- guhhh…”

“For taking pictures when you’re suffering? Wow, I wonder who I could have learned that from.” Megumi adds, taking his phone back from Nanami with a silent glare.

“Sensei,” Yuji pauses for Gojo to let out another burst before continuing, “Is there anything we can do?”

Taking a cautious sniff, Gojo manages his first full breath since the fit started. He meets Yuji’s concerned gaze, opens his mouth, and-

~”It tickles worse.”~

-gasps, pitching forward with a full-bodied sneeze. There’s not even time to aim for his shirt, a light mist landing on the ground. He feels his teary eyes flutter, nostrils quivering against the unbelievable urge.

Before he knows it he’s leaning over, hands against knees- “hH’djZSHhuu-! yiEShhhIHhew-! ahh’knZShhhyeww-!” -sneezing openly towards the ground.

At this display, Nanami and Megumi chime in with a matching “gross” as Nobara openly shudders, taking several steps back. Seemingly the only one not disgusted, Yuji steps forward, resting his hand on Gojo’s back as it trembles.

“Do you know what’s going on, Sensei?”

Despite having a pretty good idea, Gojo just offers a frantic wave. As his nostrils flare again, he spins away from the group, the attack gaining a harsher quality.

“kNZSHhhuu-! ah’DZSHhh’tiew-! Oh my- hH’EZSHH’uew-!”

Gojo convulses again, intense sneezes continuing to assault his trembling septum as he wipes the tears from his flushed cheeks,

~~~

Across the field, Inumaki mimics the movement, Panda and Maki joining in with their own chuckles. The hilarity of his reaction leaves them almost as breathless as their target. Laughter of this pure a degree had become quite rare for them, and it almost made them feel bad about the torment.

“Okay,” Noticing Inumaki gearing up again, Panda gives him a gentle nudge. “You should probably ease up now. You don’t want him actually passing out.”

“Bonito flakes..?”

Panda sighs, nodding at him. “Yes, you do have to.”

From her position against the wall, Maki chimes in, “He’s gonna be so pissed.”

“Caviar… Salmon, Salmon.” Inumaki agrees. Dropping his collar again, he gives one final command.

~”You have one last sneeze in you.”~

With that, the three lean back to watch the finale.

~~~

“kshh’diew-!”

Pausing, Gojo feels something change. The jittery feeling that had been spread across his body honed in on his nose, amplifying the tickle. As his hand begins to frantically fan his face, he feels the world start to fade away. Soon all that exists is him and the itch.

For the first time in his life, Gojo feels like he might understand what it’s like to be trapped in Infinite Void. Every feeling seems miles away, and yet at the same time it’s touching him. Each breath is too slow, but he’s panting.

Time seems to stop, nothing but the tickle remaining as Gojo tilts his head back, desperately looking for anything to bring this to an end. Any source of brightness to- there it is.

If he’d had any vision, the light would have stolen it, but instead, mercifully, he dives into his hands with a final vicious sneeze.

“heH’DIEZSHHH’kiuew-!”

Even Megumi chimes in with an almost concerned, “That was intense.”

Gojo gives him a vague smile, pale cheeks stained with blush as he sinks to his knees, rubbing his nose with a ferocity that leaves everyone wincing.

“Do you need to go see Shoko..?” Yuji asks, but Gojo shakes his head, still panting. Nanami kneels down beside him, draping an arm over his shoulders as he pulls Gojo back to his feet.

Letting Nanami support his weight, Gojo clears his throat, his blush deepening at the congestion that lingers. “I thignk I’ll be fidne ndow. Just godda sleebp this off.”

“You sound awful,” Megumi mutters, grimacing as Gojo winks at him.

“Awww, are you concerdned about mbee? Thadts so sweedt of you, Megumbi!”

In response Megumi scowls, the expression slowly morphing into a smirk as he holds up his phone. “Well, I guess these photos just put me in a good mood.”

As he passes it around, Nobara and Yuji start howling with laughter, even Nanami suppressing a few chuckles. Gojo sighs playfully, attempting to brush off the way his ears seem to burn.

“I defignitely deserved thadt.” He laughs, before exhaustion deepens its hold, and he leans against Nanami with an uncovered yawn.

Nanami chuckles again, this time unrestrained. “You probably did.�� And with that, begins the walk towards the school, Gojo still unsteady on his feet. Behind them, Megumi joins in on the laughter, and Gojo sighs at the inevitability of those photos ending up online.

~~~

Just before they make it inside, he suddenly pulls away, whipping as far away from Nanami as he can manage.

“hiH’TIEShhh’diew-! ahhh’kesshhyew-!”

They’re followed by a low moan as he rubs his nose half raw against his arm.

“They’re right, you know, Satoru. You really are gross.”

“hah’inKEShhh’yiew-! Thagnks, Nadnambi,” Gojo says, sniffling hard against his wrist. There’s a mild laughter to his tone. “Woah, thadt’s hard to say. hH- oh fuckigg- hh’kiezshh’uu-!”

“Bless you.”

The western blessing gets a full laugh, which quickly descends into a productive cough. Raising his watery eyes to meet Nanami’s stern gaze, Gojo chokes out, “How- ndice o- of you.”

“Let’s get you to a couch to lay down.”

“Thadt would be perfegct.”

~~~

Sure enough, as Gojo sleeps it off, the photos begin spreading. Unfortunately for Megumi, most people seem to share the conclusion that, even while in the grips of a full sneezing attack, Gojo Satoru looks gorgeous.

By the time the next day rolls around, the post has gotten over a million likes. Megumi attempts to delete the post, but ‘StrongestSorcererSatoru’ reuploads it.

A week later rumours are spreading through the Jujutsu world. Gojo Satoru horrific sneezing fit, Inumaki force to be reckoned with even for the strongest, but by far the most surprising, Gojo Satoru apologized for going too far.

Seems even Satoru can take a hint when it’s of that magnitude.

Inumaki notices a few extra stares being cast his way, but it comes with more than enough pats on the back to make up for it.

Everyone loves Gojo getting humbled a little.

#waterfallwrites #well- it took me a bit to finish but hopefully it was worth it!!#after the release of season 2.... well lets just say I wasn't chill about this man BEFORE that #god poni your brilliance ASTOUNDS me- this prompt LIVED in my head #and i hope i did it at least SOME degree of the justice it deserved!!#thank you so much for tagging me in itttt <333 #g/ojo s/atoru #g/ojo #j/jk

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