#gojo satoru we love you

[selmasemlan]

Gojo Headcanon

Author note: I´ve had this headcanon stuck in my head since the author told us about him not picturing Gojo settling down and I just had to share it. If some one wants to do something with this go for it, just tag me so I can enjoy and read too.

Okay, so we all know that Gojo canon is an f-boy/player. Let´s say he gets to the stage in his life where he does not think it fun to find a new girl every day, like he's not into going to the club or bar scene to get with someone for the night but he still does not wanna settle down. So he decides to choose 3-4 girls/women with whom he has a kind of sugar baby, hook-up relationship.

So he chooses these girls/women and he is open about him having other girls on the side. The girls meet and at first, they fight because it would be lame without the drama, but in the end, they create this sisterhood or more like the Gojohood

But even though Gojo has these girls, he still has one-night stands here and there, so sometimes he tries to bring a new girl in. The OGs welcome them, but behind their back, they make bets about how long she is going to last

So the Gojohood keeps strong and the girls meet up now and then and discuss how it´s been, especially about how the relationship with Gojo is going, but the funny thing is, that Gojo does not know that they have become good friends, so he does not understand how everything is perfectly fit

Like the Gojohood will know how to deal with him perfectly and keep it that way, the girls are always ready for when he gets mad, annoyed, sad or how to get him uninterested in other girls. Like there is order in this chaos Gojo himself made. and bonus if Nanami knows everything and is just laughing on side of everything, while Gojo is trying to figure out why he suddenly is happy with the women in his life and doesn´t find a need to search for someone else.

#gojo saturo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojohood #Gojo satoru in the game #gojo satoru we love you #but youre a fuck boy #suger babies #oneshot #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru headcanon

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but... #the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good. #listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

[pupkashi]

satoru loves yapping [to you]

satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.

“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.

it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.

“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.

“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.

satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.

“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.

“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.

“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.

you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.

“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.

it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.

“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.

“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.

“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.

your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.

you can’t help but smile at your lover.

“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.

masterlist

a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night

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

#he’s so my boyfriend #i would listen to him for hours on end <3 #f1 mention happy race day ‼️ #u can’t convince me he wouldn’t be in love w charles #not proofread we die like men #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen Drabble #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo Drabble #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader fluff

[taohs]

五条悟 for @gojosattoru

#jjkedit #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #mine #e:colorings #userokkottsus #usertorichi #usergokalp #kilruas #usermoonz #usersenka #usernikiforova #wanted to try out a new skin palette >w< i hope this looks ok! #really sorry for the belated bday present ana! love you so much and im glad we were able to talk some more recently! <33

[yuwuta]

every so often you’ll catch yuuji just staring at you with a dopey smile and blushing and his pupils dilated all the way and when you ask him what’s up he just laughs and gets even more red when he admits “nothing. sometimes i remember i have a real big crush on you, that’s all,” he grins, blushing from ear to ear and leaning over to give you a kiss on your cheek, “and you’re sooooo pretty.”

this also happens to megumi, except his face is not nearly as love sick. he actually looks kind of angry, a small pout and furrowed brows that might signal that he’s upset but when you ask him he just scoffs and shakes his head, when he has to admit it: “i have a crush on you,” he says, very matter of fact, ignoring his burning ears, “it’s your fault. i thought the point of dating was that this feeling was going to go away.” 

#sometimes gojo just stares at you and he’s like omg wait you so have a crush on me right. and it’s like satoru…. we are married #megumi 🤝 eren 🤝 katsuki— annoyed to re-realize they’re actually in love and they LIKE it #this also happens to yuuta except he’s like. a non-functioning blushing mess when he realizes not just that he has a crush on you #but that you have a crush on him. world stops for a moment. he’s so cute :( #jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader

[dateko]

˚｡⋆ OUR SUMMER HOLIDAY | GOJO SATORU

summary: a slice of a lazy summer afternoon with you, gojo, and two little cursed spirits...

Having Satoru cling to you in the unforgiving summer heat is pure torture. Yet you don’t make an effort to move because there is an occasional refreshing breeze that flies by, and really, you just very much enjoy the feeling of his weight on top of you. The cicadas in the trees buzz and hiss in the distance, and Satoru hums a made-up tune, his cheek sticking to your chest like glue. The two of you stay in that position for a while, loving in silence and enjoying the afternoon, resting in the hammock.

“You’re being awfully quiet.” You muse, letting your fingers run wild through his hair. He sighs at the feeling, adjusting himself up to slot his face into the crook of your neck.

“Megumi’s not here, so I can’t bug him,” He mumbles, voice carrying a slight drawl. “Speaking of bugs, he’s probably infesting the house with them by now.”

Before school was to start again, Megumi and Tsumiki had begged their blue-eyed guardian and you for a short summer holiday. A day or two before I go back to “jail,” as the first grader called it. Knowing Satoru couldn’t say no to his two children and you not having a single mean bone in your body, the four of you set out on a road trip to one of the Gojo Clan’s vacation homes. Far from the busy city and near the roaring ocean, the house you’d all be staying in for a few days was just perfect.

Compared to your cramped and comfortable apartment back in Tokyo, the temporary home had enough space for Megumi’s demon dogs to run around and a kitchen so big it completed your happy little heart. It was a lovely weekend getaway where the kids ran around catching bugs and picking flowers, spending sunset afternoons walking along the shore and lighting fireworks at night. Satoru was certainly ecstatic, having convinced Yaga to rid him of any missions for the weekend.

“Popsicles!” Tsumiki’s voice sings as she slides open the door and steps out onto the engawa. Dressed in a white frilly sundress with embroidered strawberries, she carries around a small basket with frozen treats. Megumi trails behind with a mischievous grin, holding what looks like a stag beetle in a mason jar. They’ve certainly been busy today, unlike you and your lazy lover.

“Mm, just what I needed!” You smile, kissing Satoru’s temple sweetly, urging him to grab you one to share. To this, he pouts with a whine, unwilling to leave his cozy spot against your chest and tangling himself in the embrace of your arms. However, the strongest for you is obedient, complete putty in your presence, who dutifully complies. 

Tsumiki’s smile reaches her ears as she hands him a popsicle, and Satoru pats the top of her head as he thanks her. “Gojo, wait!” The little one calls, digging around her basket. “I have one more thing.”

Satoru raises a quizzical brow and turns to you, who shrugs, leaving your trusty hammock to reach over and grab the treat in his hands. His daughter beams up at him with a playful smile, tugging on his arm to bring him down to her height. “I made you a present!” She says proudly, revealing a carefully crafted crown made of dandelions in her hands. Satoru’s eyes widen at the gift, cheeks slightly shy as he nods, letting little hands place it carefully atop his snowy locks. He can’t seem to stop smiling today. It feels good to be loved.

“How do I look?” He stands, striking a few poses that cause a few giggles and hoots. “Should I do a twirl?”

“You look stupid.” Megumi answers flatly from his spot on the engawa, a bored expression on his face. Tsumiki scolds her younger brother before adamantly declaring that their guardian, indeed, looks like a fairy princess. 

Your boyfriend looks at you with a defeated expression, blue eyes with long batting lashes asking you to vouch for him. “Did you hear that? Megumi’s being mean,” His arms pull you into his broad chest, hands rubbing your shoulders. “You don’t think I look stupid, too, do you?” 

Shaking your head, you flash a smile and finish your popsicle with a pop. “You’re certainly the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen.” 

Satoru pulls you closer and coos at your response, dipping his head down to rub his nose against yours before placing a giant kiss on your lips. The children behind you groan in disgust at the sight. You can’t help but shudder at the feeling of Satoru sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, giggling against you as he listens to Tsumiki telling Megumi to close his eyes. It’s sticky and sweet, even in the heat. The sorcerer pulls back with a smirk, his hands on your hips, squeezing you playfully. “Mmm, strawberry. My favorite.”

You roll your eyes and pinch his cheek. “You’re such a handful, ‘Toru.”

“Can we go to the beach again?” Tsumiki pips. “I wanna pick seashells!”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Satoru replies excitedly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You playfully push his annoyingly handsome face away from you, stopping him from making those lovesick, kissy faces and ogling eyes. “Sorry, but no. We went yesterday, and plus, Satoru won’t stop being annoying about it.” 

“Hey! What’s wrong with wanting to see you in a swimsuit? You act like I’ve never seen you n-”

“Okay! We can go!” You clap, embarrassed, and march back into the house, where the resting demon dogs wait for you. “Kids! Grab the picnic blanket!”

Left on his own devices and already missing you by his side, Satoru giggles as he watches you pack up with Tsumiki in the kitchen. It’s a sight he wishes he could keep forever. He wishes for more days like this one. One where the kids can continue enjoying their youth, without a care in the world. And he knows that you feel the same.

You’ve always been so loving and supportive with the kids, from the moment he showed up at your front door with two pairs of wide and innocent eyes. It’s not every day that the four of you could act as a family and not sorcerers fighting to protect humanity. Satoru realizes this is something he wants to protect for a long, long time.

“What are you giggling at? It’s creepy…” Megumi says, a faint smile ghosting his lips.

“Oh, nothing…”

note: this was... a very fruitless fic... i'm sorry... i really do not want to go back to school and also it's very hot outside so i birthed this... also i might continue writing the beach moment but really i apologize for the lack of actual real and raw writing i usually do i am... Unwell and forgot what it was like to write!!!

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #this is not proof read pls read at your own risk i simply wrote this in one sitting and HIT POST #WE LOVE YOU GOJO SATORU [crowd roars] my pretty princess yeah yeah yeah #jjk

[miekasa]

What would satoru do in his son first's day of elementary school? I bet he would be crying in the car with Ijichi cause his baby is growing so fast :(

Satoru doesn’t cry when he’s dropping of his son. He takes way too many pictures and holds him for way too long—physically, in his arms, even as he’s made his way into the classroom, Satoru doesn’t want to set him down; walks around the whole room pointing out cool things, but it’s just to stall, just to keep his baby boy with him for as long as he can. He doesn’t cry or make a scene when it’s time to leave, other than give your son many many many kisses and tell him to have a super awesome day so he can hear about it later. He’s awfully cool, he’s smiling, your son is smiling, the teachers are smiling, hell even some of the other kids come up to Satoru because they always want a first day of school congratulatory fist bump. He’s Satoru—he’s the coolest in the room, and he keeps it together.

The second you’re off of school grounds though, he’s a mess. He freezes the second he sits down in the car. He doesn’t blink, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t even breathe when it finally hits him that he just dropped his kid off at school. That he’s old enough to be at school. Not daycare for half a day—this is school, it’s going to be eight whole hours before Satoru sees him again and his world physically stops. Ijichi asks him if he’s okay, and that’s when Satoru snaps out of it. He feels like crying, but he doesn’t; he doesn’t mask that he’s not really okay, for once, either. Ijichi can tell, and offers what comfort he can.

Satoru really loses it when he comes home. It’s quiet. It’s empty. There are not little footsteps, no bowls clanking together, no animated kids series playing on the TV, not even a stray stuffed animal. Only when he gets to the kitchen and sees those few spare cheese cubes that didn’t make it into his lunchbox is when Satoru really starts crying. His thoughts aren’t logical when he calls you to weep—“But—but, it’s the Muenster cheese he really likes and now he won’t have a balanced lunch and then he’ll be cranky and he won’t nap, and he might wake up the others and—oh, god, will he have enough energy to make it through the day? Baby, I have to—we should go give him more cheese. What if he wants more and he can’t have any because I’m not there for him and—”

And that fear of not being there for his son comes spiraling out and Satoru can’t stop it, and you have to remind him that it’s okay—that he’s Satoru’s son and he’ll always be okay, and that, “You’ve done this before, yeah? Megumi was a little older, but he was hard to let him go—but he turned out just fine because he always had you, Satoru. He still does.” Satoru just nods his head through sniffles. You literally have to coach him out of his fear but it's just :( he just loves his baby and he wants to take care of him forever.

And even though your kid is old enough to go to school on his own, that night all three of you end up cuddled together in your bedroom. Satoru in the middle with you on his left, and your son practically on top of him on his right, and he wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world rn :( (Getting them to let go of each other is even worse the next day; you swear they share a single (empathetic, but single still) brain cell and that's how Satoru sends his dramatic feelings down to your son).

#anonymous #satorus like... the parent that encourages overachieving but also hes gonna play hooky like.... twice a month LOL #like go kid whoooo!! u made the honor roll for math!! but also fuck school what do u say we ditch and get ice cream #hes just :( a lover!!! he loves you!! he loves your family!!!!! #ive said enough but also not enough i love love love him #satoru x reader #gojo x reader

[k-martins]

Now the two are little stars!

#I hope GG is aware of what has been happening #I think he must be having fun with all this #I hope it means we will have a beautiful reference to the STSG star in the manga #(please GG #I will love you forever if we have a scene from Megumi and Yuji looking at these two stars) #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #itafushi #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #satosugu #geto suguru #suguru geto #satoru gojo #goge #stsg

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: iv.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

You hum in pleasant surprise when the taste of green apples and mango hit your tongue. This really could have been hit or miss, you sip again. Still as good as the first sip. Just because you like experimenting with food and drink, it doesn't necessarily mean there will be a good payoff. Fruit teas from random shops are always either too sweet or just right for you, never something tolerable in between.

Thankfully, this place understood that the sugar is only supposed to enhance the drink, not drown it. You look over at the tall and lanky boy a few short steps away. Tea isn't Gojou's thing, hence why he is the only member of the group who hadn't ordered anything, but you think this one will be right up his alley. "You've gotta try this," you angle the cup slightly above your shoulder. "It's this green apple mango flavor they're promoting."

Without taking the cup from your hand, Gojou simply leans down to take a drink. "It's alright," Gojou shrugs before sipping again with vigor. "Needs more sugar."

You snort and lean away, bringing your beverage with you, "well if it's only alright, stop drinking it then."

"You know," Gojou sighs and you already know it's going to be some bullshit spewed out of his mouth coated in false philosophy and maturity. "Here in Japan we have a saying that food tastes better when you share it."

You roll your eyes but grin at the fact you called it, "well we just shared it and it still tastes exactly the same so," when Gojou attempts to take your cup, you turn immediately. "You better follow your best friend's example and get inside that tea house and order yourself a drink!"

Gojou slumps over your back with a whine, "what if yours tastes better than mine for some reason and they give me a bad one?"

You're giggling but no dice, "no!" You shove your straw back into your mouth and lean over your drink protectively. Get your own drink, you point at the tea shop once again with a mumble. "You have pretty privilege, there is no way they'll fuck yours up!"

"Stingy," Gojou clicks his tongue but he drags himself across the street where Suguru is standing in line anyway.

Crisis avoided.

"... What was that?" Utahime's eyes widen while her brow furrows.

It's a chilly April day in Moriya and the lot of you are enjoying the last bits of spring vacation. School holidays work differently when you go to a jujutsu school, you learned quickly. As far as the higher ups were concerned, vacation just meant more free time to send students on missions. Sure you're in a completely different part of Japan doing a lot more traveling than you'd ever do in your typical high school experience.

But in reality, this trip to a ryokan in Ibaraki Prefecture is nothing more than a glorified work trip with sightseeing sprinkled in. They could have at least sent us to a coastal town if they were sending us to Ibaraki. You shouldn't expect much from an institute that still does school on Saturday when the rest of the country stopped doing it in 2002. At the very least, the mission had been wrapped up and this final week of spring break before the new school year started, you get to enjoy yourself.

Next week, I become a second year student, you did it. You managed to survive your very first year at Jujutsu Tech. You'll miss having Fujioka-sensei as a teacher, she was kind and had lots of fun anecdotes. But you can't stew in awe and nostalgia with how Utahime is staring at you like you've lost your mind.

"What was what? It's green apple mango fruit tea," you cock your head before sliding your cup to the traditionally-clothed girl's side of the table. "Wanna try it too?"

Utahime promptly slides it back in disgust. "After he put his mouth on it? No thanks," you only shrug in return before sipping at the fruity goodness all over again. That's more for me then. Your nonchalance drives your upperclassman into mania. She looks at Shoko like she's the only other sane person at the table. 'What the heck is going on?!' her lips move silently. "Why am I the only one freaking out about this!?"

The brunette holds up a hand in the most laidback display of defensiveness you've ever seen, "they've been like that for a while now, everyone just got used to it." Shoko's words only make Utahime's more aghast.

Oh right.

That.

You smack your lips together with a weak laugh, avoiding your friend's accusatory gaze.

Something shifted in the cosmos after December 8th, 2005 without your meaning to. You aren't exactly sure how long it took after your birthday for sharing food with Gojou to become habit, but it did.

Something is too sweet or too spicy? You swap plates.

You get an assorted bag of snacks and sweet treats from helping a random grandma cross the street? There isn't really a point of keeping any of the stuff you know Gojou will like.

But you never realized how ingrained into normalcy it became until one particular day you leaned over to eat a chip Gojou held in his fingers. "Does this taste kinda soapy to you or is it just me?" He asked, shaking the bag it came from. They were roasted cumin lamb skewer flavored chips imported from China.

"Yeah, I think it's just- wait, give me another one?" You chewed more slowly that time around, really feeling at the flavor. "No, I'm getting it too."

Suguru and Shoko made faces that looked exactly like the one Utahime is wearing right now. "[First]!"

"Look it isn't like we're friends or anything," you tell the soon to be fourth-year. "When there is food involved, the We Hate Gojou Alliance calls forth a truce," you explain seriously, folding your hands and resting your chin on them as if you are Ikari Gendo. "For how can we hate if we are not properly nourished?"

At the bullshit you spew, Utahime's expression shifts into one that is purely unamused as her brow furrows and she purses her lips. It takes a lot out of you to not laugh then and there. "And since when was that an addendum we agreed on?"

"It's one I made out of personal interest," you close your eyes, nodding at the memories. Food comes before any quarrel you have with an annoying classmate. If it came down to it, you'd become Gojou's best friend for a sandwich. "When food is involved, Gojou Satoru isn't that bad."

"You're full of it," Utahime fights the twitches of her lips trying to curl upward. "Very, very full of it." The upperclassman relents with a sigh a beat later, knowing her arguments are futile. "You're a traitor. I hope you know that you're a traitor to our cause, [First]," you bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing again. You're failing the longer she goes on. Shoko is your mission partner, but you think it is arguably fair to say Utahime is who you're closest to besides her. When you transferred to Jujutsu Tech, it was Utahime who gave you a tour around the facility when the teachers were suddenly too busy. She was a kind and beautiful upperclassman who came with a lot less monetary baggage than Mei Mei. "First Getou and Shoko, now you," she sips her matcha with a pointed glare in the direction of the tea house windows. Whatever Gojou does, it makes Utahime's amused scowl turn into an annoyed glare.

"I was technically never part of any alliance to hate on Gojou, I'm only an affiliated acquaintance," Shoko laughs lightly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Utahime-senpai, you just have to accept this as part of the new reality. [First] and Gojou have become friends," your mission partner rolls her eyes when you shoot her a pointed look. "Apologies, food-based acquaintances."

Satisfied with her correction, you nod.

It's then Suguru finally reappears, a beverage in hand. Gojou is still waiting by the window for his own order to finish. "What are you guys talking about now?"

"I was telling them about this convenience store by my old high school everyone went to to have mental breakdowns," it's always a pleasure when Suguru looks at you like you've grown a second head. Laughter slips from your lips as easily as breathing. "It's called Adachi's ー that's the owner ー but the joke was to call it Adachi 7-11 because it rips off the 7-11 color scheme. He's a sweet guy though," you quickly add before continuing your spontaneous tale of the incredible 7-11 knock off store.

You eloquently tell your friend that Adachi is the kind of grownup who understand kids have it rough. That it's unknown who it was from Tsubame High that started the tradition of finding aisle to just sit and cry and snack in, but eventually it just became the spot to have freak outs. If you stayed to eat while you freaked, you simply paid for what you ate or drank when you were ready to leave.

Respect someone else's crying space. If you couldn't avoid going into their aisle for something, just politely pretend they don't exist.

If you really needed a cry, Adachi's office is free for someone having a particular trying time.

And last but not least, Adachi's was a judgement free zone.

It was like having a bartender for teenagers. Except in this instance, the only services the bartender offered were snack food, cheap wagashi and a select variety of beverages.

"First, I promise people don't go there to cry as often it I made it sound. Second, I know it sounds weird but it actually was kinda cool," you chuckle as the cursed user shakes his head the longer you go on. "Exam week? We're all basically in there studying and freaking out while eating a bunch of snacks." It really built up a surprising amount of comradery among your classmates you make sure to tack on before taking a break to finish the rest of your tea. "Before you ask, if I'm gonna have a mental breakdown, I prefer having it in the privacy of my own room," or in front of a beluga whale, but that explanation will take forever and a half. "And that... is the story behind Adachi 7-11," you conclude dramatically.

Suguru shakes his head but his expression is playful, "I give you points for the improv, but I'm taking away points for how long your story was."

You click your tongue in mock annoyance, "everybody's a critic. I just wanted to cover all the bases in case you felt so intrigued you wanted to know more about your mysterious classmate."

"You don't have a mysterious bone in your body," Shoko chirps and when you lightly kick her ankle under the table, she kicks back. "Utahime-senpai just feels betrayed that [First] is getting along better with Gojou." At the reminder, Utahime squints in your direction again. 'And after all I've done for you. I should have gone to Kyoto Tech', Utahime sighs into her warm cup. "The We Hate Gojou Alliance is turning into the I Alone Hate Gojou Alliance."

This is when Gojou finally saunters over, drink in hand, "that's because I'm cool and charming."

"You know, if you have to say it, you're probably not as charming as you think you are," Suguru advises with a grin. Gojou promptly ignores it as if he never said anything at all.

"Sucks to be you, Utahime," Gojou sticks out his tongue at the songstress. "[First] and I are practically best friends. Right, [First]?"

The more you deny it, the less convincing you know you sound so you stop with a heavy breath. "Anyway," you pivot the conversation to something other than your food-based truce. "Does anyone know if there are going to be any new 1st years? Or is it gonna be a while before we start seeing some new faces?"

Suguru nods, "I heard from Fujioka-sensei that there are two first years coming enrolling," you perk up at this information. It's a small jujutsu world, so small you didn't even know if you'd be getting any underclassmen. Two 1st years coming in still just seem so small though. From what you've learned though, 2-3 students per grade is average and the school lucked out with your 1st year class having four kids. Suguru points a finger back and forth between you, "she didn't tell me much about them but they're recruits from non-sorcerer families, like us."

Sometimes, life decides to grant you little miracles. "Finally, we're growing in our ranks," you cheer, bumping your cup against Suguru's. "That's less clan politics to hear about!"

The closest you've ever gotten to clan politics in Japan were from anime and dramas and the occasional snippets you learned about the imperial family on the news. That changed when you became a sorcerer. It's a small jujutsu world, you learn things here and there whether you want to or not. Interesting as the stories can be, however, you're glad your family is normal. Everyone at your school from a sorcerer family makes clan politics sound annoying at best and harrowing at worst and that's just from the things you learned from Utahime, Shoko and Mei Mei.

Your other peers aren't so keen on sharing what goes on in their families.

Yamada isn't the friendliest of your upperclassmen.

As for Gojou ー the only one of your classmates from a family apparently worth mentioning ー he doesn't care about clan politics in the slightest and opts to ignore it.

Thus, the Big Three Families still are a mystery to you even with Gojou's close proximity to your person. Nor are there any students at your school that came from either the Zenin or Kamo Clans. There are a couple enrolled at the jujutsu school in Kyoto apparently but you haven't had a chance to meet them. You only had three summaries to go off of when it came to the big name families in jujutsu, all courtesy of Gojou back in May of last year since you couldn't participate in the Sister School Exchange Event in Kyoto.

(Apparently having two special-grade sorcerers for students gave Tokyo Tech the biggest advantage so only Gojou and Suguru got to go. Jerks. Utahime threw a big fit over it too, but at the very least Tokyo won last year.)

"Do you like having rights as a woman?"

"Um, yes?"

"Then you won't like the Zenin Clan.  You know Carnage from the Venom comics in the States?"

"Yeah, my mom reads those."

"That's the Kamo Clan."

"Okay, well what about your family? What's their deal?"

"They have me."

Vague, but clear enough descriptions to paint the necessary pictures ー the Amazing Sexists, the Bloods and the Jujutsu Jesus Havers Club.

Considering that this year the Sister School Exchange event will be taking place in Tokyo, you wonder if this will give you a chance to meet these fancy jujutsu folk. You tell your group as much, sighing in wonder. "It's a good thing you and Gojou won the exchange event, I wanna meet the kids from the other school." That was what you'd been most excited about before Fujioka-sensei dashed all your hopes and dreams. You wanted to see the differences in the campuses and what sort of crazy the teachers had going on. C'est la vie. "What were they like when you went there? Were the big clan kids more refined than Gojou over here?"

You barely dodge the definitely cold hand that was about to touch back of your neck in retaliation while Suguru chuckles out an explanation, "They have a couple folk from the Kamo Clan. They were... nice."

"You hesitated before you said nice," Shoko deadpans.

"They were polite," Suguru pivots his next selection of words in his attempt to remain neutral.

Gojou sticks out his tongue, unimpressed by his best friend's attempts to be cordial, "they were whatever. We didn't really talk to them."

"Boo, you're boring," you shake your head in heavy but mocking disappointment. "Should have just asked Utahime, she's seen them more." Your gazes turn to the oldest person at the table.

Utahime shoulders square off in satisfaction at being deferred to. "There are a couple of Kamo Clan kids at Kyoto Tech, one of them won't be coming because he'll be a fourth year student like me," her spirit drops for a moment and you offer a small smile of reassurance. Fourth year students don't get to participate in Sister School Exchange Event. Hence why she'd been so upset that she'd been unable to participate in it. There's not much you can do to comfort your friend, nor is there anything either of you can do about the past. At the very least, Utahime is nothing if not an optimist. She'll just kick ass in a different category. "As for the younger Kamo, Ririka, she's actually pretty nice when you talk to her but she can be a bit intimidating at times. She'll be a third-year student once school starts."

You make a noise of pleasant surprise, "Kamo Ririka, I'll keep an eye out for her." There's nothing better than a nice but intimidating woman, in your opinion.

"As for everyone else, they're all definitely a lot more tolerable than Gojou, it's not even a competition," Utahime glared at the sunglasses-wearing boy pointedly. He shrugged back without a care in the world, unperturbed as ever. "But while I was visiting home, my mother told me that Zenin Naoya is enrolling in Kyoto Tech so we'll be seeing him in a few months as a first year."

Whoever Zenin Naoya is, just mentioning him immediately makes Gojou groan in annoyance. "I was hoping that brat was gonna get homeschooled," he chews on his straw. You aren't sure how irritated he actually is but you do note how white brows curl in displeasure.

Gojou makes a face, "Zenin Naoya. I can't stand that guy."

You nudge him, lips curling into a light smirk, "I'm sure your fancy rich kid beef isn't that serious."

"No, Gojou actually isn't being hyperbolic this time," you glance over at Shoko. She and Utahime are sporting matching grimaces, brown eyes glancing at one another in understanding. "Zenins are bad but Zenin Naoya is the worst."

Well god damn. You share a look with Suguru who shrugs back, just as lost. That's the problem with not being born into the world of jujutsu, you're behind on all the history and beef going on behind the scenes. You have to learn little by little whether that be through being told or stumbling your way into procuring the knowledge on your own.

Zenin Naoya ー a member of the Amazing Sexists. You glance back at Gojou who has gone back to drinking away at his cup of tea. His partially obscured face doesn't make it any easier to read how he may be feeling underneath the surface.

Either way, you'll form your own opinion on this Naoya person when the sister schools converge in Tokyo.

Second year is definitely going to be something.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra:

Fun fact for my fellow Americans and anyone else whose school holidays work differently, while here in the states, the end of summer vacation is when we go up a grade, students go up a grade at the end of spring break in Japan.

Summer vacation in Japan is about 30-40 days long depending on the prefecture from the end of July to the end of August. In Tokyo, I think it's from about July 21st to to August 24th. You come back and you're still in the same class. Winter break is from about December 26 to January 7th. And Spring break is about March 26th to April 5th. Like I said it can change prefecture to prefecture, but the mentioned dates are the standard for Tokyo give or take a few days or two depending on the ward.

Just wanted that knowledge to be shared, if you were curious as to why the reader is going up a grade after spring break. In Japan, the school year starts in April.

I really wanted to work on Reader's initial dynamic with her peers and her personal philosophies in these first few chapters before kicking off into the heavier stuff that comes in 2nd year. Considering how in canon, shit pretty much was smooth sailing for Gojou and co. during their 1st year until the 'Toji really beat the breaks out of 2 teenagers' mission, I wanted to reflect that in these initial chapters. Hopefully you guys have been enjoying it as much as I have. The Sister School Exchange Event is around the corner and those folks are coming to Tokyo, I wonder how that's gonna go >:3c (not that you can participate but there's plot, I assure you).

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #i cherish you halcyon days #utahime finally makes a proper appearance #and naoya gets a mention we love/hate to see it

[bodega-catto]

Geto: meh I guess I’m pretty vanilla. I’m open to try anything tho do you have anything you wanna try?

Gojo:

#jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #sugusato #gego #satosugu #I KNOOOWWWW HES A FUCKING FREAK #he buys a Kama sutra book and calls it bonding time #guys guys it’s because he loves Suguru’s cock tho #‘how long can you stay hard?? maybe we should just me sitting on your fat cock all day??? why are you looking at me like that?’

[getousatoruu]

MEGAN THE STALLION YOU ARE INSANE

#we got the fem Gojo cast no one move #megan thee stallion #MAAM YOU YOU MOVED ME #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #She is so mother I love her

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

#u both catch a cold the next day <33 #anyway i am normal about the devotion of a loyal knight paired w the devotion of a man who’s only ever loved one single person in his life #shoutout to knight x royalty dynamics for inventing romance #i wanted to get a good balance on prince!gojo’s twisted side and soft side so i hope i did ok!! :’3 #hes a kind man at heart he rly is but i think being born at the peak of the class pyramid does smth to a person lmao #i didn't touch on it in the fic but he would have turned out a lotttt more twisted if he hadnt met reader as a child … #what if i was ur knight..;;; and u were my prince….;;;;; and we changed the trajectory of each other’s lives 😳😳 👉👈 #mickey if u see this!!! tysm for letting me write abt this concept i had so much fun!!! this fic is for u <33 #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

[sunnyyflowerrs]

thinking about how jujutsu kaisen desperately needs filler. like i’m dying for a chill episode where they aren’t fighting for lives and just being teenagers, with characterization that isn’t done through putting them through the most traumatic events known to man. i want to see fushiguro, kugisaki and itadori go shopping, or going on an inane tasks like getting gojs groceries (bc he disguised it as a mission). let them be kids 😔

#jjk #gege you coward #LET THEM BE REAL FRIENDS THEY BARELY KNOW EACH OTHER #i love all of them but gege barely explored their friendships #like why did we see more of yuuji and junpei becoming friend than the main trio …. #open plea for filler #jujustu kaisen #season 2 #AND NO JUJU STROLLS THUS SEASON IM LOOSING IT #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru

[bougiebutchbitch]

canNOT believe how in order to Box That Bitch, kenjaku needed gojo to stand still for one slutty, slutty minute. So he just shows up wearing the cadaver of gojo's evil ex boyfriend (who gojo is in NO WAY over) and gojo is SO helplessly bi that he falls for this shit and freezes, pining for a whole-ass corpse man, for long enough to get taken out of commission for THE REST OF THE SERIES.

Truly a gay man I do not respect. Queer stupidity at its FINEST. I'm obsessed.

#Shout out to geto the dead bf too for being reanimated BRIEFLY by the unbridled gay rage #Of 'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY (ex) BOYFRIEND' #Jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #Gojo Satoru #Geto Suguru #GetoGojo #Satogu #Teehee #Just great work guys #Stellar job #You nailed these queer losers #We love to see it #Jjk spoilers

[gojosbf]

with gojo, geto and even kenjaku dead, do you think satosugu's story is completely over? because for me personally, if this is the end of their story, it feels kinda unsatisfactory and inconclusive. i hope we get more content and there are so many questions about their story that still need to be answered. i dont expect gojo's censored last words to geto to be revealed ever but i hope we get at least a somewhat conclusive ending.....

Their story had a conclusive ending, they're not the main characters so no matter how much we crave for more bits of satosugu this is what we have and this is how they ended. I don't necessarily find it unsatisfactory considering both of them served their purposes and we got another top notch satosugu angsty crumb till gojo's last breath (that panel of him saying "my only disappointment is that you weren't there to give a slap on the back" and geto's tears). I don't think we should drag it out or find any other means to insert more stsg when it isn't even their story, sad but true. This is it for us, they happened, it was beautiful and then it ended.

#i am sorry anon i cannot give you fake hope #trying to forcibly focus on their story when it isn't needed by the plot would ruin every nostalgic and nice moment of theirs #some things are better left untouched and hey tragedy isn't so bad #atleast it's way better than a forced happy ending that'll leave a bitter taste in our mouth because though most us stsg shippers love to #cry over them we have made peace with the kind of end they had and it's fun (lwk sadistic too) thinking of what could've been and #wondering about ifs and buts #but let's leave the canon untouched meanwhile #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ask #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #stsg

[miekasa]

when your children are still babies, they get so so upset when gojo comes home and doesn’t immediately pick them up. your baby has recently learned that the sound of the front door opening and closing usually signals the return of their father so tonight, when the door opens, your baby’s head perks up. when he finally takes his shoes off and makes his way into the home, he spots his little angel on the couch. “hi baby!” he coos at them with a smile on his face and his hands full with some packages. “let me go put these down and i’ll be right back!” he tries to explain, to which your baby just obliviously smiles at, just happy to see their father and know that he’s giving them attention. but when they realize that he’s leaving their sight and didn’t immediately pick them up… oh have mercy. it becomes a shit storm because who does he think he is?? to not give his baby all his time and attention! gojo comes running back into the living room confused as to why they’re crying but as soon as he picks them up, they stop crying and start giggling. what a dramatic little baby you’ve been blessed with. the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree ig

— doc dad levi anon

SHUT UPPPPP because you know Satoru loves the attention too, they’re a perfect match together bye. All you can do is stand, bemused, as Satoru picks up the baby and almost instantly quells his crying, rocking him back and forth before stretching his arms to hold the kid at eye level with him and cooing, “Oh, I’m sorry my love, I missed you too, soooooo much,” Satoru bends his arms to brush their noses together and grin at the giggles the baby emits, “You missed me too, yeah? Aren’t you the sweetest little thing, missing me like that? So precious.” Satoru covers the baby in kisses and sweet words for nearly five straight minutes and they both love to bask in each other’s attention (you have the videos to prove it).

Something kinda funny tho is… you’re 98% sure your son can tell that Satoru will give into quickest lmfaoo. Your baby cries sometimes when you have to leave him, sure, and can definitely throw a fit when he wants your attention—but he seems to know to cry (or squeal, or babble, or screech) on demand for his sucker of a father. Nanami, Shoko, Megumi, and Yuuta (your on rotation band of baby sitters) have noticed that the kid loves to be held and has no shame gesturing for it—but they’ve never experienced the baby crying when they so much as step away for a moment, unless he’s hungry or needs to be changed. You don’t have the heart to tell Satoru he’s being played tho, so you just let them have their moment <333 (not that it would matter, Satoru can’t stand to see your kid cry in any capacity, so he’d go right back to giving in; plus it’s a win-win in his book anyway: baby stops crying, and he gets cuddles from his son).

(Then again, you think the need and love for attention might just be genetic, because Satoru has cried big tears a handful of times just leaving you and your baby at home for a few hours).

#anonymous #satoru ‘i’m not crying i’m just. really fucking SAD OKAY I MISS THEM!!!!’ gojo #satoru: maybe my eyes are misty!! so what!!! there’s a lady and baby gojo waiting for me at home and i’m HERE! I HATE IT HERE!!!!!!!! #can we talk about your lineup of babysitters tho LMFAOO #you have basically a father number 2 (the one u call on the most bc let’s be real. why wouldn’t you) + the kid ADORES him #also you can leave the kid w nanami for like. more than a day shoukd something happen. he’s the best #he’s gentle he’s reliable he’s safe he just. best godfather fr #shoko who the baby is obviously Safe with in the literal medical sense but god she needs a nap more than he does LMFAO #baby seems to like her tho and she’s always like ‘i can’t believe this is /satoru’s/ spawn’ #megumi is basically the kids older brother for all intents and purposes and the baby loves him :( #megumi gets the most squishes (see gently smacked with a baby palm) and kisses and megumi just. allows it :((( so cute :((( #yuuta whos always like you..:. are you sure you want ME to babysit? and then is a natural bye #like wdym you got him to eat the steamed cauliflower AND not spill his yogurt AND only have one outfit change? #anon u make me YEARN #gojo x reader #satoru.ask