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#jjk comfort
ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique
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Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1,6k
Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.
Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol
Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍
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Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.
This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.
But now he’s dead.
Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.
“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.
Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.
“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”
Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.
“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.
He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?
“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.
So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.
But you can’t.
“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.
With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.
“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”
Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-
“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”
This voice…
That was Yuji Itadori.
Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.
“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.
“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”
You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.
“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.
When did that happened…Was it…you?
“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.
“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“
“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”
You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.
“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.
There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.
“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.
The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?
“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.
- a few weeks later -
You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.
“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.
Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.
Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?
“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.
This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.
“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.
“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.
With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.
“Is that a scar?”
“It might be…”
“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”
When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?
“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.
You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?
“Why would I know where this came from?”
“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.
You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…
“This was when Yuji woke up-“
“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.
“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”
“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”
Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.
“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”
Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.
“Satoru”, you breathe out.
There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.
“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.
“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“
“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”
You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.
“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”
“I’ll always tell the story like this.”
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Tags: @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp@localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo
Dividers by @saradika 🤍
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sttoru · 7 months
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𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .
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⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.
⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.
⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now
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everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.
no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.
blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;
“satoru !”
your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.
you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.
“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—
you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.
satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.
“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.
his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.
“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.
satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”
he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.
“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”
it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.
when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.
“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”
you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;
“you okay, baby?”
you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.
“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”
it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.
happy that someone would mourn over him at least.
“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”
that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.
“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.
another silence hangs in the air.
“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.
he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.
satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.
“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.
the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;
“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.
satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.
even without him one day.
“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”
you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.
“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.
satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.
“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.
“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.
the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;
“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”
. . .
those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.
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satoruluvies · 4 days
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solace
the jjk men and boys try their hand at comforting you when you tell them that you're sad
includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta and toge.
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yuta's words are from me to you too! you're doing so well ily <3
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itz-amani · 5 months
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Sukuna as your boyfriend [Soft Sukuna]
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-Honestly, when he is soft it gives me another perspective of him.
-He is probably the type that strokes your hair as he combs it Oh come he just wants to feel your hair.
-Spoils you with many kisses and [kinda] praises ''You know you are cute that I can just poke your eyeballs out'' or ''I could just pinch both of your cheeks until it explodes''
-You two always cuddling together Of course you are the little spoon and he is the big spoon.If you have plushies on your bed he will throw them from the bed and say ''Why would you have those foolish plushies when you have me?'' You just giggled at his ''possesived act'' and ended you being the big spoon.He just love the feeling being spooned sometimes
-Petnames for you such as [Sweetheart ,My Queen , Paradise , my little dreamer , My lovely human.. ]
-Petnames for him such as [ Ryomen , Charming , My King , Mr possesive , sometimes Your Majesty ..]
-Waking up with him doesnt let you leave the bed . Would cuddle tightly in his arms . Even you tried to move an inch he'll raise a brow and open his eye a little bit .He could feel that you are trying to get out from him.
-Would have his wallpaper of you even his profile picture.
-You invite him to listen to your playlist at first he be like ''What kind of ''noise '' that you want me to listen human? he scoffed but once you put your earphones on him...He is in love .
-He is the that put his hand on your pockets if you arent comfortable he put his arms on your shoulder.
-Listens to what you are venting your life, your problems everything
-If he saw you slept on the couch while you are doing your work he is the type that sigh and move your laptop away from you,carries you in a bridal style saying ''Has my paradise been working and ended felt asleep? Such a poor thing..'' ''B-but Ryomen..I have to finished i-it-'' Shh..My Queen , shh..its going to be okay..'
-He sleeps shirtless with pants on ..He places you on the bed bed,tucks you saying ''Sleep tight my little dreamer ..Hope you dream about me''
[end]
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cursed2soul · 2 months
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sleeping on the couch after an argument | Gojo satoru
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You didn’t understand but you also did.
Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer after all, the busiest one really. He’d wake up early, sleep late or not sleep at all. It’s true that Gojo’s body has adapted to this sleep schedule overtime but, the higher ups and their hatred towards Yuji seemed to make Gojo stressed.
You only wanted to comfort him, to maybe talk about it? Who knew the strongest, even with their true self, not want any comfort…or is it that Gojo would still choose his pride over you?
“I told you many times! You don’t have to hide anything from me, you can tell me anything you know?!”
You snapped, trying to knock some sense into him.
“WELL MAYBE I DON’T WANT YOUR HELP! YOU’RE SO SUFFOCATING AND ANNOYING!”
Gojo snapped back, before turning around and leaving to your shared bedroom, leaving you shocked…unable to comprehend what he just said.
Maybe he needed time alone? Maybe you were really suffocating and annoying. Seeing how he was in a bad mood maybe it wasn’t the right time to try get him to vent, after all, he needed so much rest. One night without him won’t hurt after all right?
wrong.
Back with Satoru, he was frustrated. You were supposed to be there, next to him, in his arms. But now there he was, alone on the bed, because he chased you away.
It’s 2am yet he can’t sleep.
without a second thought, he went to the living room, to see you on the couch. He was dumbfounded, why? Sure he snapped but…oh, never mind…right…he did chase you away.
quietly walking towards you, he picked you up before carrying you back into your bedroom and hugging you while you were asleep. Gojo will definitely apologise tomorrow…right?
No, his pride would never allow him to.
waking up, Gojo planted a kiss to your head
“Good morning sweetheart….” He had a smile on his face “this is where you’re weak…right?” He smirked as he reached for your sides and ticked you…..
“Ahahaha! Satoru stop~~~! It tickles!”
He never did. Until he had to.
You got princess treatment ,ent for the rest of the day, he didn’t apologise though, he didn’t have to…..because all his actions showed it all <3
From reader : hey! Sorry for being gone for so long :(, I’ve been quite busy lately
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tojivu · 6 months
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# FIRSTS ‣ GOJO SATORU
✰ — author’s note i have risen back from the dead. more coming soon i am on sem break now yahooo
✰ — cw / tags satoru’s firsts just so happened to be with you, f!reader, sfw!
✰ — playing japanese denim by daniel caesar.
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GOJO is upset. he is next to you on the school rooftop, hating every second of it—not because it’s you, but because you are crying. you’re crying and he has no idea what to do.
you’d gotten into a fight with your friends, or ‘your stupid friends that are no good for you’ as gojo puts it, that day. it was a trivial matter turned serious, escalating from banter to sudden silent treatment: you have no idea what to do, and you wonder how you will survive tomorrow’s classes and lunch after they had just shut you out. you would have nobody to sit with, you realise. you complain to satoru, your eyes brimming with tears.
he’s about half an arms length away from you, scared he will say the wrong thing; he didn’t know much about arguments. suguru and him were always on good terms. he’s thinking about the most general advice he could give you, just to be on the safer side, in case something specific he says ruins your life. he’s thinking so hard he swears he has veins showing on the sides of his forehead.
your sobs get quieter, and so does he. he hasn’t said much in the past half an hour. he has never felt guiltier than now, cursing himself for not being able to comfort you when you needed him—but an idea comes to his mind, one not half bad.
“c’mere,” gojo suddenly suggests, “closer.”
you comply, unsure of what he’s about to do, until he snakes his arm around your shoulder and turns to you. his right arm reaches for your back, enclosing you—gojo is warm, his shoulders obstructing your peripheral vision.
he’s not sure if he’s doing it right, because you start to sob into his shirt. you would usually be scolded for messing his clothes up, but that’s the last thing on his mind now; he thinks you fit just right into his arms.
“you can have lunch with me tomorrow.” his voice is low and soft, gentle and sweet.
you never knew gojo satoru could be sweet.
“okay.”
gojo pulls away from you, momentarily, his expression one of worry—before opening his mouth to speak again. “your eyes are so puffy. how will guys like you now? your nose is so red, too.”
you scoff, leaning back into his chest. “and i thought you were being nice for a minute..”
“now i’ll be the only one willing to look at you.”
GOJO ‘ s leaning in close to you, and your lips are trembling from how nervous you feel. his eyes are locked onto yours, his breath shaky and clearly uncontrolled; his chest is rising and falling at a fast pace, and you’re the same—fingernails digging into the soft cushion you two are laying on.
it is a friday night when you’re at gojo’s house under the pretense of ‘tutoring’, but here you are: here he is, in front of you and anxious. for the first time, gojo satoru is not confident. a million thoughts race in his mind, swirl and jump around and it almost makes him dizzy—though he can’t tell if it’s actually because of how much prettier you look up close. your lips look so soft, and he knows you’re looking at his too.
you’re not sure how it led up to this. you two gave up on your physics homework and decided to watch a movie, making yourselves comfortable on his couch—and you reached for the remote to lower the volume, reaching over satoru to the table next to him. you think it’s cliché, how you almost fall over the couch when you make that stretch for the remote; only for satoru to catch you with his arm around your waist and his face inches away from yours.
the remote is still in your hand, and satoru’s fingers are gripped firmly on the flesh of your hips. your chests are pressed together and you are so, so tempted.
“can i kiss you?”
you’re taken aback by the question. his breath is cold against your skin; shivers travel up and down your spine and you feel lightheaded again. nevertheless, you muster a nod—you feel the tension break and your heart skip a beat when his lips rush after yours milliseconds after your approval: a relief you never knew you needed.
it feels right, his lips—as if perfectly molded to yours. they are warm and taste like the coffee you shared (technically, that he stole from you) earlier: sweet, so sweet that you need it to last forever.
he pulls away, eyes still following your lips. his pupils slowly trail up your face until they’re looking at yours, dilated and shining in the warm light of his living room.
“i’ve never kissed anyone before.” you almost stutter, hoping he wouldn’t ridicule you as he always did: but you had a feeling this was the kind and gentle satoru you were speaking to.
“me neither,” the ends of his lips curve into a smile, and not the smug one you and many others were used to—something has changed between you two, and his actions suddenly bring about an entirely different weight now.
“feels right with you, though.” satoru whispers. you’re fighting every urge in you to kiss him again; every nerve in your lips wait for his. your self control doesn’t take long to render useless—seconds later, his lips are on yours again, making sure you two are much closer this time.
GOJO is not your boyfriend.
the sun is merciless, beating down on you both as you two hold hands and stroll around the beach and the market that resided next to it. it was a typical saturday afternoon, except with satoru pestering you to go to the beach with him: when he had texted you about it, you were confident he had asked his other friends to come along as well.
you show up at the entrance of the market as planned, and you see nobody else but the tall, snow-headed figure you were well accustomed to.
your friends were surprised you two weren’t dating by the two year mark. there were a few times you got upset about it, the fact that he hadn’t asked you out. he had kissed you, after all; your first kiss, yet you know there was going to be no other like it, and you wanted it to stay that way—yet there was this doubt manifesting in you, an anxiety of sorts: did gojo even mean it?
“satoru.” your voice calls out for him, and his head turns from the view of the waves to you.
satoru didn’t pay any mind to when you started calling him satoru.
it was exhilarating just to even say his name, the intimacy of it was enough: enough for you to be content with the fact that he wasn’t yours—at least you got to call him by the name no other girl could. it felt the same to you, satoru was not yours: but his name was on your tongue.
he was yours in that way.
“y/n.” it was equally intimate when he said yours, maybe even more. the way the syllables of your name roll off his tongue, his expression and tone, one no other man could replicate.
“satoru.” you say again in response, smile getting wider and cheeks redder.
“stop saying my name like that.” satoru smiles and turns his head away from you, again, almost as if he is embarrassed of how red his ears go when you savour every syllable of his name.
his fingers are intertwined with yours. they’re cool compared to the heat you two are standing under, and gojo continues navigating the crowded market—making sure you don’t get pushed around by random strangers.
a few hours pass and you two are eating kiwi fruit on the sandy shores, the sun setting rather slowly. it was noisy: music is being played from an event happening nearby, families playing beach volleyball, children running around haphazardly.
you lean against satoru’s shoulder, wondering when you two will ever talk about that night at his place—you’re not sure if he even wants to talk about it. maybe just a one time thing.
the thought of it never happening again eats you up inside. how unfair it is, that gojo satoru could make you feel such a way and never again.
“y/n,” he mutters, throwing the skin of his kiwi into a plastic bag. “can we talk about it?”
it’s scary how you have nowhere to run now. you thought he would bring it up on the phone, and you’d have at least some time to think about what to say. “about what?”
he scoffs, “don’t act stupid. there’s a reason why i asked you out today.”
you keep quiet, unsure of what to say to make this any less tense. you two were just eating kiwi and watching the sunset. there was nothing awkward about it until he made it awkward.
“then why did you ask me out?”
“because i wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend, but here you are acting like an idiot.” he groans, taking your kiwi and eating it. “i see why none of your dates ever work out.”
you laugh, almost shocked at how satoru is complaining so much and yet his face is flushed. you sit up and look at him. “that’s really rude, ‘toru.”
“you know i like you, y/n.” his chest is pounding—it’s deafening how loud his heartbeat is. his eyes are looking at you, eager for an answer but clearly afraid of rejection.
you lean closer, kissing his cheek, hoping to soothe some of his anxieties. you could never say no to satoru, and he seemed unaware of that; but you knew he would come to realise it sooner or later.
“i like you too, ‘toru.”
SATORU is nowhere to be found. you’re in your bed, listening to a playlist he had made for you awhile ago: before you two had dated. now that you look at the titles, you should’ve known he was head over heels for you. the rain pounding against your window drowned out most of the music playing from your headphones, though.
it was a boring day without your boyfriend. you haven’t spoken to him for a few days now, partially because you’re not sure whether he even wants to. a tense day at practise made him raise his voice at you, something really unlike him.
you knew he didn’t mean it. but you weren’t going to act like you were okay with it, either—he had hurt your feelings, after all. though, it did make you just a bit upset that he didn’t bother to call you after that day.
you’re curled up in your bed, wondering if this was how it’s going to be. after every argument, would he be this way?
your thoughts are interrupted by knocking at your bedroom door. your mother’s face appears in the space between your door and doorframe: gentle voice and a smile. “someone’s here to see you, y/n”. you think it’s your aunt who lives across the country, the one who brings you those sour strawberries you don’t really like but never have the heart to decline.
your mother’s face disappears and the door opens, revealing that it’s not your aunt like you had initially thought.
the figure in front of you was that of your boyfriend’s, hair wet from the rain and a pout worn on his face. his eyes and nose are red, cheeks puffy. he’s holding a bouquet of flowers, your favourite—you remember telling him about it a few months ago.
“i’m sorry for raising my voice, i shouldn’t have. i know it scared you but i really didn’t mean to yell.”
you decide to let him ramble. satoru was vulnerable around you in many ways, but never like this.
“i didn’t want to yell, i was just having a bad day and i know that’s no excuse. i’m so sorry, i was being stupid and—“
you stand up and come closer to him, your fingers moving his hair away—his face is stained with tears.
“it’s okay, ‘toru. thank you for apologising.”
he sniffles, not crying anymore. satoru hugs you tightly, and he smells like a mix of rain and cologne. “i love you.”
“i love you too, satoru.”
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181023 — what’s up …. Don’t be mad i’m back now Plz
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suguru-getos · 17 days
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Satoru loves how you melt into his touch, he doesn’t even need to do much. All he needs is to come home and smile at you watching your favorite tv series from the couch. He takes his shoes off and walks towards you, kneeling down and puckering his lips for a kissie. It’s become a ritual & you love leaning in against his lips and kissing him passionately. “I love you, welcome home Toru.” His shoulders slump in relaxation at the sound of your soft voice. You talk to him as if your whole world revolves around him, and it does. You have never loved anyone as much as you’ve loved Gojo Satoru. It’s evident when he freshens up real quick, hating how he’s spending time away in the bathroom doing pesky human things when his wife is waiting!
Once he’s back he would serve you both dinner, mostly in a single plate. You need to be patient because he will most likely feed you and him bite by bite. “How was my princess?” He cooes, caressing the temples of your cheek with his pale hands, leaning in and peppering soft kisses of affection while you’re craddled comfortably on his lap. “I’m good, how’re you?” You can’t help but become softer & softer with how gently Satoru handles you. Like you’re glass sure to break if he so much so raises a voice slightly. It’s a few hours or so that Satoru basks into your presence to gain all his energy back.
And then… he becomes the menacing manchild. 🤙🏻🤺👹🌚
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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found you
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- gojo satoru x reader
in a world in which he isn't the strongest and you're the high school's sweetheart, fate brought you to him once again
genre/warnings: reincarnation au, fluff/comfort
notes: a sequel to everything, but not anything
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Everyone knows you. You hold most of the popular guys' hearts in your hand and either break them unknowingly or innocently, and despite that, they still don't have it in them to hate you.
And of course, the school's clown, Gojo Satoru, knows you too. He knows you by name and face, but never had the chance to really talk to you directly.
Why? First, he just simply didn't bother, and second, because there was already another girl plaguing him—the girl of his dreams.
And he didn't mean it figuratively... there's indeed a girl haunting him every once in a while in his dreams. A girl whose face was always obscured from his mind, whom he couldn't picture outside the realm of his slumber. Most of the time it was a happy dream, enough to bring a smile to his face every time he woke up.
But sometimes, it was the most disturbing nightmare.
There would be blood, the girl's empty eyes and still body, and him screaming out at her to not die. But then he couldn't do anything—or even see her open her eyes—as he fell into an abyss and awakened in pure terror.
Satoru was convinced someone held this massive grudge on him for pranking them that they resorted to curse him with voodoo or something. Why else would he keep having these dreams about the very same girl? It was clearly a work of something greater.
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You were just not interested in romance. At least not with the guys who were after you up until now.
Or perhaps, because there was this guy in your dreams that captivated you so much that you chose to ditch those real guys for him. This imaginary person.
You were going insane. You were sure of it.
When you explained your affliction to your best friend Riko, she shot you a very bombastic side eye but tried to get you to describe the boy in your dreams regardless.
"He..." you faltered. His face was always blurry in your mind's eye. There were little things that you were sure of. "He has a really cute grin? Crinkling eyes? Like he just likes to smile?"
"Y/N, did you hear yourself?" Riko asked you incredulously. "Are you sure it isn't one of the guys in your anime shows? I'm telling you, watching them too much makes you delusional."
And so your girl talk with her ended up with her pushing you to try this hit dating app that guarantees you to go on at least one date due to its many fascinating features. You tried it on sheer whim and didn't even use your real name. You had been swiping right and left, before suddenly stopped when you saw whose profile popped up in your screen.
Gojo Satoru.
He was in your grade, and he was hard to miss. The school's biggest troublemaker who held the highest record of being sent to the disciplinary room. You never got to talk to him, and before today you were sure you wouldn't even look at him twice. So he plays these things too?
Your type definitely wasn't delinquents or attention-seekers. But why is it that the more you gaze at his profile picture—of him with this widest grin and that funny round glasses—the more you are intrigued?
In the end, you swiped right.
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Just because he didn't bother to be in a serious relationship or had a girl who held onto him in his dreams, it didn't mean that he was shying away from real life girls. Satoru, as much of a headbanger as he was, was popular. Some girls were into him and he didn't exactly let his chances to fool around pass.
Girls with questionable virtues though. Suguru, whose popularity was as much as him just in the right way, would always say that his tastes were bad. Shoko would straight up mock him as a wimp, for not having the courage to go after the right girl, such as you.
And so when on one of his boring days that he played with a dating app he found a profile who swiped him right with a picture that was you but a name that wasn't, he was taken by surprise and twice as curious.
For one, he knew it was you. And hey, you were interested in him?
Satoru took up on that offer. Taking advantage of it as now he had the chance.
The two of you exchanged messages in the dating app. He'd tell you his thoughts or crack funny jokes, and you'd reply with these many laughing emojis and stickers.
Until one day, when your conversation went like this...
you: really? but girls must be lining up for you and you could've had your pick from them gojo: nah most of ‘em all boring you: what a red flag. after a while surely you'll find me boring too gojo: you? haha no. boring people don't do things you do you: ...what do you mean?
You and him had this texting thing going on for more than a month already, but you still weren't aware that he knew that it was you.
gojo: you're y/n
And he figured that it was time to go face-to-face. Because he wanted to get to know you beyond this phone screen because who knows what more you faked other than your name?
After he busted you not so gently, he demanded that you'd go on a date with him. You could only lament—you couldn't say that you hadn't seen this coming, with how poor your disguise was. Then again, did you even intend on hiding from him in the first place? Now that you thought about it, no. You were quite alright even when he knew who you were.
On the said day, just right after school ended, he went to the agreed place to take out out to a famous cafe in Shibuya. Only to find a guy from basketball team bowing his head before you.
"I really like you!" the guy declared with sincerity and steadfastly. He was tall, quite famous too. By all means, the two of you would've made a fine pair.
Satoru just frowned. Suddenly he didn't like the sight before him. This wasn't the first time he saw someone confessing their feelings for you—you were famous for that. And anyway, the two of you were just friends even though you've been texting for a long time now. He shouldn’t be upset.
"Ah," you let out a small sigh, your face lit with realization. Your voice was soft to Satoru's ears. Too soft. It resembled something someone had told him a long, long time ago.
"Don't ever leave me, okay?" "Of course."
That voice held the same softness as you did just now.
"I'm sorry," you proceeded to say, giving a look of sympathy to your admirer. "I'm very flattered, and I thank you for that. But I have no room for—"
"Y/N-chan!" Satoru didn't know where this immense impulse came from, he just went with it and it terribly spooked you. You jumped and whipped your head at him, eyes widened in total surprise.
But he merely sauntered towards you, only with his winning grin and nothing else, until he was right next to you, staring down the basketball guy with so much mirth in his blue eyes.
"Hello to you." Satoru addressed him, then put his arms on your shoulder, ignoring how you immediately stiffened. "Too bad, today she is going with me."
You couldn't believe what he just said and before you could rectify anything, the guy who just confessed to you bolted away in humiliation. You immediately untangled yourself from his arms, ready to be cross.
Or at least until you stared straight to his cerulean blue eyes.
And he too, saw his reflections in your orbs.
Suddenly everything didn't matter. You were lost into his eyes as he did yours. As the lines of dream and reality twisted and turned.
Suddenly, Satoru could put a face to the girl he'd been seeing on his nightly wonders. Her smile. Your smile.
And you could see the boy who loved you to death in him. The one who took your heart with him, and agreed to go with you for the second time.
All it took was gazing into these eyes of yours to make the connection. Everything seems right. So right.
As if the two of you are destined for this very moment. As if you’re given everything to understand why you should meet him now.
I found you.
As sudden as it came flowing to your brain—all these images that overlapped with your dreams—it ended. You came back to reality.
“You’re insufferable,” you hissed at Satoru, pushing away the fog in your mind.
“Am I?” a shit-eating grin formed at his glossy lips. “But it’s true, you’re on a date with me today.”
And so you went to your very first date. Satoru was every bit the same as the guy who messaged you on that dating app. He was outspoken, effortlessly funny, but still, a bit annoying here and there.
It was strange how comfortable you got around him, even though it was practically your first interaction.
Soon the number of dates increased. Two, three, four—and so on. Soon, everyone knows. Riko questioned you if you were sure to pick him out of all fishes you could’ve picked. In a way, you weren’t sure. It depends on this question: what are you to him anyway?
Meanwhile, on Satoru’s side, everyone either cheered for or envied him. Suguru patted him on his back, thinking he finally got the right senses. And he found himself to like you very much. He couldn’t go a day without thinking what you were doing or messing with you. You were kind, cute and pretty, and as he said it himself, he likes pretty things.
So it came as a surprise when you blurted out that burning question, sounding so unsure and overall out of your character, whereas you should already know how he put his heart on his sleeves for you to grab.
“Are you messing with me?” he gawked. But when he saw hurt crossed on your face, he was thrown into panic. “No—I mean…”
He exhaled sharply. He wasn’t used to this confessing thing at all because usually he didn’t need it.
“I really like you, okay? You do know that I like you, at the very least?”
With that, your relief was visibly palpable, like a sun that went out of its hiding. The hopeful gleam in your eyes—Gods, Satoru wanted to protect that forever.
“With that being said…” he wanted to look cool, he didn’t want to mess this up. And so he extended his hand to you, opening his palm.
“Would you go out with me?”
It was probably the first time you saw him so sincere. He was playful, flippant and overall just a menace, but when he asked you this, he looked as if he brought out his heart for you to see.
When you breathed out a “Yes”, and intertwined your fingers in his, he was over the moon, smothering you with kisses.
From that point onwards, your romance book was brimming with moments that sparkled, ranging from the sweet to the passionate. Each experience with him felt like a first, yet there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if you had known him somewhere from a long time ago.
Those dreams of you and him from somewhere at another time brought the two of you together once again. With their purpose fulfilled, you no longer had to traverse the realm of dreams to be with the boy who had always provided you comfort with his presence. Likewise, he was no longer haunted by the recurring vision of you fading away before his eyes.
Because now, you and Gojo Satoru have a new life. A life where both of you can find happiness together.
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jennifer-jeong · 25 days
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[Fluff + Comfort] [JJK Men x Reader] How They Comfort You
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CONTENT
Fluff, comfort, gender neutral reader, comforting you after having a bad few days, reader having mental health troubles, yes this was self indulgent shit's been hard LMAO
Word Count: 490
You were ranting to your lovely boyfriend after he asked you “what’s wrong baby?” and you immediately started bawling. All your pent up stress and emotion finally flowing out with your tears. You’ve been holed up in your room for a few days either working or sleeping, unable to even find the time or energy to shower. As you finish telling him about your troubles, your insecurities, etc. with a stuffy nose and puffy eyes you tell him “I don’t know what to do. I’m so tired…” His heart aches for you, and he responds with what feels right.
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OKKOTSU YUTA, Yoshino Junpei
Cups your face with his hands to look into your eyes and say “I love you, no matter what, I love you. No matter if you think you’re doing a bad job, no matter if you hate yourself, I love you. I always will.” He spends the rest of the night helping you clean up and plan out your week all while giving lots of kisses.
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NANAMI KENTO, ITADORI YUJI, MUTA KOKICHI
Holds you close with a hug and rubs your back, speaking quietly “let it out baby, you’ve been doing so amazing. You’re here, alive, taking care of yourself and your body. That’s all you ever needed to do.” He runs both of you a bath to help you relax and you talk about how you’ll tackle the next few days of work/school.
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI, GETO SUGURU, KAMO CHOSO, KAMO NORITOSHI
Gives you your water bottle to take a sip, hands you tissues, and caresses your cheek. Tells you “you’re doing amazing despite everything you have going on baby. I love you, let’s rest tonight and I’ll help you with anything you need to get done tomorrow. We can sit together and do work.” You agree with his plan and after cleaning up, you cuddle until you fall asleep.
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GOJO SATORU, TOGE INUMAKI (but he uses sign language/text)
Pulls out his phone and orders you your favorite order from your favorite fast food place, not even having to ask you what it is. “I love you, and you need to eat. You work so hard, relax tonight and we’ll get back to it tomorrow. Let’s shower while we wait for the food, I’ll wash your back for you.” He reassures you with his hands in the air “no funny business.”
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RYOMEN SUKUNA, FUSHIGURO TOJI, Aoi Todo
Holds you and kisses your forehead, you breathe in his scent and he says “let it out.” His warmth and familiar smell make you ugly cry into his shoulder. He holds you for as long as you need and tells you he loves you while occasionally kissing you. He helps you schedule your week before bed and makes you breakfast the next morning.
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Thank you for reading!
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|| MASTERLIST<3 ||
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queenendless · 7 months
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❤️‍🩹Pain in the Neck (Student!SatoSugu x Fem!Student!Reader ft Student!Shoko) ❤️‍🩹
A/N: Been having neck pains like a week now. 😫 So this.
I OWN NADA OF JJK, ALL CREDIT GOES TO GEGE.
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SHORT LAST-MINUTE MESS OF A PIECE!
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You whimpered, trying to stay still, as Shoko worked her healing energy on your nape.
A drastic injury. Sustained not from a mission, but from a pulled muscle in your bad sleep posture. How unlucky, indeed.
Unable to answer your vibrating flip phone for a half hour, the voices of your beloved partners had you crying out for their help, unable to move from your curled up position amiss strewn sheets. Afraid to worsen the pain.
Ergo, Suguru calling Shoko over and Satoru immediately going to your side and whispering comforting words while kissing away your tear-stained face.
"How much longer, Shoko?"
"This takes time, you know. Her energy flow in this area is sprained."
"As much as I too want this to end, we must yield patience, Satoru."
"Our girl is in pain. Of course, I don't wanna wait!"
Suguru rubbing circles in your stiffened back, Satoru caressing and kissing your knuckles, and Shoko sitting on her knees by your head as her hands as gently as they could worked on your sprained neck, kneading and rubbing.
All of you still in your jammies, they did their best to comfort you in your time of need.
"It's gonna be fine, Y/n." Suguru leaned over, whispering in your ear.
"You're gonna be okay." Satoru rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.
"Just try to relax. Focus on your doofus lovers." Shoko suggested while working out the kinks in your shoulder blades.
You couldn't talk from the pain. You could only heave in trepid ache as both your partners sat on the edge of the bed before you, each taking a hand of yours, squeezing you supportively.
"Our strong beautiful girl~ Taking it like a champ~" Satoru softly praised.
"You can do this, love. We got you." Suguru tenderly assured.
You squeezed their hands in response to your pain intolerance. Every flare up, every spike, even a twinge of discomfort. They squeezed back, responding to your emotions.
"Okay, here we go." Shoko's warning triggered out of you a chortled sob of pain turned to relief as something popped. Clicked. Freed.
Your bois pressed their faces against your cheek and forehead, kissing and shushing away all your misery.
'It's alright sweetie. You made it through." Satoru tenderly cheered.
"You're almost there." Suguru warmly motivates you.
The pain lessened. A wave of warm fuzzy relief ran through you. Your grateful sigh had them both smiling as the crestfallen gaze your eyes took was now gone, replaced with teary joy.
As warmth encompassed your treated areas, your tense rigid form now melted under their grasps.
"Okay. That should do it."
"T - Thanks Shoko." You tiredly replied, now too drained from your damages now remedied.
"Just don't try and do it again. If you do, I expect payment." Shoko was not kidding.
"I got it covered." Satoru immediately volunteered.
"I'll hold you to that."
Suguru hushed them both to point down at the now sleeping you finally at peace.
"Now that's a sight worth protecting." Gojo's words rang true for them all.
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month
Note
JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!
Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men
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Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.
Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!
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Gojo Satoru
„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”
You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…
“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.
“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”
A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?
“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.
Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-
“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.
You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…
“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.
“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”
“I swear if you slap your d-“
“Look at me!”
His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.
And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.
“Now watch.”
With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.
“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.
“Go ahead babe.”
“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”
He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.
“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.
“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.
“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”
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Nanami Kento
“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”
You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.
…Just like your legs.
“You’re daydreaming again.”
You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.
“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.
You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…
“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”
He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…
“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.
His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-
“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”
Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.
And your merciless gaze.
“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”
You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.
Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.
Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.
“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.
“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.
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Toji Fushiguro
“You want me to do what?”
You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?
“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.
“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”
“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.
“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”
Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.
“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.
“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.
“Promise we’ll fu-“
“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.
His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.
“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.
It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.
But still…
You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.
“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.
Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.
“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.
“Let’s do that again.”
“I know something better.”
All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.
“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.
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Bonus: Sukuna
“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.
“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”
“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.
Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.
“Really deep down”, he grumbles.
“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.
“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“
“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”
Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.
“Did you film this, brat?”
You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.
“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.
“Delete that right now!”
“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”
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Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa
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animehideout · 3 months
Note
I'm in need of fluff and comfort. Could I please request headcanons for how the JKK guys would comfort an S/0 who is doubting themselves and their abilities.
JJK Men Comforting Their S/O Who's Doubting Themselves
a/n: Hiii anon thank you for this fluff request, I hope you like it and it comforts you 🫶🏻. Sending you warm hugs ✨❤️.
Characters: Choso Kamo / Nanami Kento / Gojo Satoru.
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Choso Kamo: Words Of Affirmation.
When you're doubting yourself, you'd avoid talking to him, scared that he might judge you.
So you'd distance yourself from him.
He'd think that he did something wrong.
So he'd do everything in his power to make it up for you.
He'd apologize even though he did nothing wrong.
"Love? Please talk to me! I'm sorry if I made you upset, it won't happen again...I promise"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong Choso, it's just me–I'm just not good enough"
His eyes would widen in shock, you've always been so perfect in his eyes, so you confessing that you're doubting yourself took him by surprise and broke his heart.
A moment of silence would wash over both of you, letting your words sink in.
His wide eyes softened, gently taking your hands in his large palms ensuring a tangible connection.
If you cry, he'd get too emotional and tear up with you.
He'd give you time to speak your heart out, stopping you in between to give you his opinion; mainly telling you that you're amazing.
His words are his tool of comforting.
He'd list out all of your strengths and unique qualities.
"You are stronger than you think you are! You're unique!!"
"You have no idea, love! you always make me a better person, you motivate me to keep on going–"
Each sentence emerged from the bottom of his heart, full of sincerity and love.
"We all face hard times but know that you're capable of everything and anything baby"
His words were crafted to lift up your spirit and they did.
He'd spend the whole night expressing his belief in your skills.
He'd delete your self doubt and replace it with self-confidence, self-love and power.
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Nanami Kento: A Good Listener.
It would be when he gets home from work.
His keen awareness would allow him to pick up on the tense atmosphere, the moment he stepped into your shared bedroom.
He'd loosen up his tie, and approach you gently.
He knew that something is wrong, from the way you faked a smile to greet him, and from the way you were curled up like a ball on your bed.
"Honey! you alright? wanna talk about it?".
The bed sinking behind you. His hand carefully rested on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.
"You know you can tell me anything right?".
Leans in to press soft kisses on your arm, letting you know that he's there for you.
His presence alone, motivated you to vent.
You slowly turned, now facing him.
He opened his arms, signaling for you to get closer and lay in his comfortable embrace while you talk about your feelings.
"I feel like I'm not doing anything right..I always mess up things.. I'm not good enough–" you'd start.
The more you talk, the more he holds you close to his chest.
He'd listen to you attentively, leaning in slightly to catch every word you say.
Nods in understanding and hums.
Creates a safe space for you to let everything unfold without being interrupted or feeling ashamed.
He would ask logical yet thoughtful questions.
Inviting you to share more without making you feel pressured, like asking about what triggered this feelings, how long have you been doubting yourself... Is it related to a past trauma.
He would try to understand every detail.
He would know when and what to ask.
Very considerate and patient.
Adresses every concern with genuine understanding.
Even if your words are scrambled, he'd totally get you.
He'd wait patiently, giving you all the time you need to formulate your sentences and find the right words.
He would be silent when you talk making sure to not interrupt your train of thoughts and express yourself fully.
His careful and considerate nature allows you to feel secure and comforted. Just by listening to what you say, you'd feel loads better.
"I totally understand sweetheart! this is a safe place, you can tell me everything.. I'm all ears"
"we will work on it together, okay?"
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Gojo Satoru: Physical Affection.
He'd notice right away how your mood dropped.
You were in a public place, so he would take you somewhere more private so you can be yourself without trying to fake a smile.
Gojo chose the language of touch.
He's always been so physically affectionate with you, so when you're feeling down and in need of comfort he'll double that affection.
Wouldn't leave your side.
He'd know that you're doubting yourself, he always reads you like an open book.
He'd give you a big hug and let you cry or just snuggle in his arms till you calm down.
He'll show you that he loves you the way you are.
His body moves on its own, from holding you close till he squeezes air out of you, to peppering your face with playful kisses, earning giggles from you.
"Here's that beautiful smile again".
He'd give you time to calm down, and gain your confidence back.
"I have faith in you, you're amazing, never forget that...now come here let me kiss you".
Even after he manages to make you feel better, he'd never leave your side, spend the whole day attached to you like a koala.
His arm still wrapped around your shoulder, giving you kisses and headpats every now and then.
Leaning down, to check up on you and make sure you're comfortable.
Boops your nose a lot.
"Are you feeling better now??"
"Whenever you feel down, I'll make sure to lift you up" .
Cracks jokes to make you laugh.
Tickles you a lot.
Wouldn't let go of you till he makes sure you're back all smiley again with no worries at all.
He trusts you a lot, and always makes sure to show you that he's proud of you.
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nanamiya3 · 8 months
Note
Hello! As an SA survivor, I really appreciated your story with Naoya. My comfort character is Nanami and I was wondering if you could write something similar? Where reader has an anxiety attack bc of her trauma and finally tells nanami about it? She’s worried that he won’t accept her and nanami reminds her he’ll never do that. It’s a heavy topic so I completely understand if you want to pass on this! I appreciate your writing regardless so thank you for taking the time to write & post these stories :)
hii! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond (can you believe my last post was almost half a year ago :0) but thank you for the ask! i made this absurdly long because i love backstories but i hope you like it :)
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nanami x fem reader (she/her pronouns used) - fluff & comfort - pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby) - wc. 7.7k
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please note that there are mentions of SA (nothing explicit/graphic) after the little "exhibit" sections are over. if you aren't comfortable with mentions of past SA (ex: nanami asking if someone has "hurt" reader) please don't read past the little "exhibit" scenarios or don't read/expand the post at all :) again, it's pure fluff in the "exhibit a, b, c" parts, after that SA is discussed/alluded to
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Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.
Exhibit A: The time you were an hour late to your first date.
“Come on, just trust me on this one!” Shoko exclaims as she pelts you with blueberries—your blueberries.
“Hey!” You glare at your best friend, snatching the bowl of fruit away before any more berries end up on the floor. “Do you know how much blueberries cost these days? They’re not in season right now and—”
“Blah blah,” Shoko sticks her tongue out at you. “I’m not saying you have to marry him.. It’s just one date!” She pauses, tone becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been friends with him since high school… He’s a really nice guy, very respectful.”
“Oh?” You quirk an eyebrow at your roommate, laughter bubbling over your lips. “Very respectful,” you’re giggling now, “I’m sure he’s veryy respectful.”
Shoko groans, hands scrubbing at her face. “You’re unbelievable—I need a cigarette,” she mutters.
“You’re unbelievable! You’re a med student who smokes!” you cry out, flinging an accusatory finger at her.
Shoko just snorts, waving a dismissive hand in your direction as she pats at her pockets for her lighter. “I’m serious though, I think he would be good for you.”
“Sure, he’s exactly what I need,” you reply dryly. “What was his name again? Nanami something—”
“Kento,” Shoko chimes in.
“—Nanami Kento,” you finish, twirling a blueberry between your thumb and index finger. “I’m sure he’s a great person. But you know there’s a reason why I’m never home when your guy friends are over…” You trail off, shrugging as if you’re unbothered, but Shoko sees the way your brows furrow and lips tremble. “Plus, I’m too busy with my dissertation and research to try to have a life,” you huff, easing the tension with some lighthearted humor, popping the berry into your mouth.
Shoko rolls her eyes at you good-naturedly, waggling her brows as she tries to lift your spirits. “What if I showed you a picture of him?”
-
Two photos, a not-so-slick mention of Nanami’s height by Shoko, and a sworn testament to his upstanding character later, you fold.
-
You, 6:47 PM
hey! i’m running late right now, there was an emergency at the lab. can we push the date from 7 to 8? i’m really sorry :(
Nanami Kento, 6:50 PM
Yes, of course. I hope everything is okay, take as long as you need.
You, 6:51 PM
thank you so much! again, i’m really sorry. i should be there by 8 :)
-
Nanami reads your text, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sighs. He had already arrived at the restaurant by the time he saw your first message—it’s too late to leave and come back now. He takes a seat in the waiting area, glancing at the bouquet in his lap. Shoko had threatened to break both his legs if he so much as breathed at you wrong tonight—he hopes you won’t find the flowers too much for a first date.
Nanami thinks back to what he knows about you. He remembers the first time he was at Shoko’s place: you were nowhere in sight (much to the dismay of Gojo, who kept asking Shoko to play matchmaker for him), but Shoko just explained that you were studying late at the library. Every time after that, it was another excuse: Shoko’s roommate can’t come because she’s busy in the lab, busy at the library, busy writing her dissertation, busy running simulations, busy reading papers, busy being a TA, busy meeting with her advisor. He’s only seen you once while at your apartment, and that was because he accidentally walked into your room thinking it was the bathroom: You’d been hunched over your desk, back to the door, and Nanami had immediately walked right back out into the hallway upon his realization that bathrooms didn’t usually contain beds and desks, shutting the door as quickly as possible so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t even turned around by the time he was gone.
That was the first and last time Nanami Kento ever saw you. At least until last week, when he received a text from Shoko detailing your contact info and a winky face, phone lighting up with a call from your roommate moments later.
“Hello?”
“Kentoooo!!! Guess what??” Shoko’s voice is all high pitched and giggly, barely containing her excitement.
Nanami thinks he knows exactly what she’s up to. “What is it?” he ventures.
“My roommate just agreed to go on a date! With you!!” Shoko’s glee is apparent, even through the tinny speaker on Nanami’s phone. “I just sent—”
“I never asked her out,” Nanami cuts in. He’s frowning slightly: not entirely opposed to the idea, just hoping Shoko hasn’t gone and planned your marriage without his knowledge.
Shoko’s sigh echoes loudly over the line, and Nanami winces at the earful he’s sure to be in for. “I know,” she’s rolling her eyes now. “That’s why—if you would just let me finish my sentence—I sent you her number so you could ask her yourself.”
Nanami’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over before he asks, “Why are you doing this?”
Shoko doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re both losers with no lives,” she laughs a little at her own joke, then slowly considers her next words. “And… I think you would treat her well—I know you would be good to her, and she deserves that.”
Nanami can tell how much Shoko cares about you, from the way she spoke about you to the way she threatened to buy 51% of his start up’s shares and tank the company if he ever hurt you. Yeah, he really hopes you don’t think he’s coming on too strong with the flowers.
So, Nanami sits in the restaurant patiently, checking his phone ever so often to make sure he hasn’t missed any messages from you, smiling and telling the hostess he’d like to wait a while longer to be seated. And when you do show up—17 minutes earlier than expected—he’s all smiles and reassurances. You’re feeling (and looking) frazzled, apologies spilling out from your mouth like a dam let loose as you follow him and the hostess to your table. But Nanami’s the quintessential gentleman: waving away your guilt and apologetic expression, pulling your chair out for you, handing you the beautiful arrangement of flowers, pouring you a glass of water to help calm you down, insisting you call him Kento.
And though most people wince and attempt to change the topic when you talk research, Kento’s patient as he listens to your ramblings on the roadblocks you face, the students you have to teach, the lack of common sense in the lab. He makes a point to ask questions about your research, finding it interesting because you find it interesting, loving the way your face lights up when you get to describe the implications of your findings.
You hate to admit it, already hearing Shoko’s “I told you so!” in your head as you think to yourself, but Nanami Kento might just be exactly what you need.
Exhibit B: The time you spent 4 consecutive days with your head in a toilet bowl.
Shoko Ieri, 1:58 PM
dude, what the hell are you doing right now???
Nanami Kento, 2:01 PM
What do you mean? I’m working.
Shoko Ieri, 2:01 PM
what could possibly be so important with your company that you’d be working right now??
Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM
It’s 2 PM on a Monday… Am I not supposed to be working right now?
Shoko Ieri, 2:02 PM
you’re so fucking dense you would sink in the dead sea. your girlfriend has been throwing up all day and you’re WORKING?
Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM
Throwing up? What do you mean??
**Incoming call from Nanami Kento**
“Hey assho—”
“What do you mean she’s been throwing up all day?” Kento’s voice is tinged with urgency and worry. “Is she okay? Are you there with her? Can you check her temperature? I’ll be there in—”
“Dude,” Shoko cuts in, “Don’t act like you didn’t know. There’s no way you didn’t know—I mean she’s been hurling like crazy since this morning, and you’re an asshole for not checking up on her.”
Kento’s shocked, and still extremely worried, trying to just get Shoko to focus so he can make sure you’re okay. “I really didn’t know, Ieri, she hasn’t texted me at all today.” His voice is strained, concern evident in his tone. “Please tell me you’re at home with her—is she okay?”
“Well…” Shoko considers how to best put your condition so as to not cause Kento a heart attack, a little confused on why you didn’t tell him anything. “She’s been throwing up pretty steadily throughout the day and she’s got a pretty bad fever.”
“How bad are we talking? I’m driving over right now.”
“104 degrees… 104.6 last I checked,” Shoko winces as she says it, knowing how bad it sounds.
“Oh my god.” The absolute terror in Kento’s voice makes Shoko wince even harder. “Ieri, we need to get her to a hospital—this is serious.”
Shoko shakes her head, reporting dejectedly, “She won’t go. I tried a couple hours ago but she said she doesn’t get paid enough by the school to afford an emergency visit.”
Kento’s at a loss for words.
“She said she’ll be fine since I’m ‘basically a doctor,’” Shoko finishes bitterly.
“T-that’s not… You’re not… Y-you’re just a med student—that’s not the same thing—” Kento thinks he might have a heart attack.
“I know, I know,” Shoko sighs. “But, I don’t think it’s anything too bad. She isn’t throwing up blood, her breath and heart rate are both pretty stable, and she was conscious enough to talk back to me when I tried to get her to the hospital.”
“Okay,” Kento says as he takes deep breaths, trying to not think about you dying or suffering or—“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon, then. We can talk later.”
“Alright. Drive safe—I don’t need another patient to look after,” Shoko jokes before hanging up.
5 minutes later, a stressed Nanami Kento is on your doorstep, rushing in as soon as Shoko answers the door, barely listening to what she’s saying as he moves towards your room. And then he’s inside, kneeling before your bed as his eyes dart over your figure, murmuring a gentle, “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”
You blink your eyes open, trying to pull yourself out of that feverish fog blanketing your mind as you slowly register who’s in your line of sight. No… It can’t be. How did he find out? He’s not supposed to be here—you didn’t tell him for a reason.
“Ken?…” You rub at your eyes, sitting up with a whimper as a wave of nausea hits you square in the stomach. “W-why are you here?”
“Because somebody told me you have a 104 fever, and it wasn’t you,” Kento tuts, tone disapproving but eyes gentle.
“Ieri…” you mumble, shaking your head slightly.
“Ieri,” he confirms, shaking his own head—this time at you. “We’ll talk more about that later… Right now, I need to make sure my darling is feeling okay.”
Your mind is still foggy, but your lips quirk up into a small smile as you tease in a small voice, “Your darling is feeling superb.” You give him a weak thumbs up and cheesy grin. “I feel great.”
“Really? Because there’s a bit of vomit on your chin right now,” Kento deadpans, secretly relieved you’re feeling well enough to joke.
And then you cry out in mock outrage, regretting it almost immediately as you clutch at your middle, the outburst costing you a fit of spasms and pain in your stomach. Kento’s mood sobers instantly as he gently rubs at your back, asks if there’s anything he can do for you, adjusting the pillows behind you to help ease you into a more comfortable position.
“You should go,” you whisper as you reach up to grip his hand.
“Now why would I do that?” Kento asks, smiling softly as he feels your hold on his hand tighten.
You turn your face into the pillows, mumbling out a muffled, “I’m sick… and gross. I can’t let you see me like this.” You groan, turning your head back to look at your boyfriend as you caution, “And you’re going to get sick.”
Kento just smiles as he cups your hand between his own. “You never look gross, and I won’t get sick because I don’t overwork myself.”
You huff out a tired sigh, weakly swatting at the hands wrapped around your own as you slur, “It’s rude to torment the sick and dying,” and turn on your side to face the wall—away from your amused caretaker.
-
For the next three days, Kento—with the help of Shoko, (not quite) M.D.—looks after you as you miraculously manage to regurgitate every bit of sustenance you consume. He’s cleaned that metal “throw-up” bowl on your nightstand—meant to be used in case you couldn’t get to the bathroom in time—more times that he can count. He’s changed your sheets, helped you to the bathroom, and dutifully cooked light soups and stews, spooning them into your mouth before inevitably patting your back reassuringly as you throw it up into the toilet. Most of all, he’s poked and prodded you with that goddamn thermometer: if you had the strength to, you’d steal it right out of his hands and tell him to quit being a mother hen.
But Kento just can’t help his worrying. To take care of you, he’s been staying the night over, sleeping on that couch in the living room he’s definitely too large for. Even Shoko feels a little bad for him, watching him dutifully set alarms for every other hour so he can check up on you throughout the night. The two of them work in tandem to make sure you’re okay, combining the power of Shoko’s education with Kento’s sheer stress to maximize your care.
And when you finally come to—when the haze clouding your thoughts finally clears—he’s just as patient and gentle as he has been over the past few days.
“You’ve gotta stop overworking yourself, sweetheart,” Kento murmurs into the top of your head.
“I can rest when I’m dead,” you protest, twisting from your position on his chest to make a show out of the dramatic wink you send his way.
Kento groans. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says with a sigh, helping you curl back up on top of him.
You giggle, breath fanning out against his collarbone, amused by Kento’s exasperation. “Thanks for taking care of me though, Ken. You’re the best,” you whisper softly, turning to pressing a kiss against his neck.
“Of course, darling,” he replies quietly, voice full of love. Then, louder, feigning nonchalance, Kento announces, “But if you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll be on your own, and I’ll just watch from a distance and say ‘I told you so’ when you get sick.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me!” you pout, frowning at the thought of him purposely ignoring you.
Kento sighs, pretending to be upset, “You’re right. I wouldn’t do that.” He reports dejectedly, “I just love you too much,” practically able to feel your smile at his words against his skin. “But—” he leans down and tilts your head up to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place to maintain steady eye contact. “—the next time you’re sick or in need of help, you’ll tell me directly.” His voice is serious, as firm as his grip on your chin and it makes you nervous, like you’re in trouble, eyes darting around to avoid his gaze. “No trying to hide it, no making me worry. I shouldn’t have found out about your fever from Ieri—you should have told me yourself. I don’t want you hiding things from me, especially if it’s about your health and well-being. Got it?”
You’ve tensed up against Kento, heart hammering in your throat as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. His free hand moves to soothe your back—trying to show that he’s not angry with you—as he drops his hand from your chin, eyes tracking the way you hang your head to avoid looking at him.
And then, after a bout of anxiousness, you nod, stealing a glance up at Kento to gauge his mood as you start, “I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You take a deep breath before you continue, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d drop everything if you heard I was sick and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to take advantage of you like that.” You pick at a piece of lint on his shirt, avoiding catching his eye and aiming for humor as you add, “And nobody wants to watch their partner throw up, it’s gross. I couldn’t let you fall out of love with me like that.”
Kento cracks a smile. “Darling, if you think throwing up in front of me is going to make me stop loving you, I need to do a much better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”
You huff out a laugh at that, but he’s not done, cupping your hands with his own as he looks down at you. “And you’re never a bother, baby, ever. I’m never going to be upset with you for letting me know you’re not feeling well—and you won’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me by letting me know. It’s my own choice to take care of you and it makes me happy to do it.”
You’re looking down at where Kento’s hands are wrapped around your own, but you nod, letting his words sink in as you duck your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Ken,” you whisper, trying to hide how relieved and emotional him saying that makes you feel. “That means… a lot to me. I’ll promise I won’t hide things from you anymore.”
Your boyfriend smiles, replying with a soft “good girl” as he runs his thumb along the back of your hand. He’s glad you’re opening up, and as you doze off on him, exhausted from your past couple of days and lulled to sleep by the comfortable silence and gentle caresses, he feels a surge of affection settle over his heart.
Exhibit C: The time you he won a stuffed lion at the fair.
Today is a special day. There are no papers to grade, no students to teach, no presentations or talks to prepare, and your research has reached a point where you can confidently take a few days off to rest. Naturally, you decide to optimize this golden opportunity by doing only the essentials: Scheduling a long overdue doctor’s appointment, deep cleaning your apartment, spending as much time with Kento as possible, going to the fair…. Just the essentials!
So—essentially—you’re at the fair with Kento, ignoring your ever growing list of responsibilities in favor of overpriced food and rigged carnival games. Kento’s already sporting a large tote on one shoulder, ready to collect all the prizes you’re eager to win.
Three hours, six stuffed animals, a pizza, two churros, a basket of fries, five rides, and a petting zoo later, you find yourself surveying the prizes on display in front of the cursed ring toss.
“Awww, Ken look at that one!” You’re pointing to a stuffed lion sitting amongst the prizes. “It kinda looks like you, don’t you think?”
The face Kento’s making right now can only be described as… distaste. “No… Love, I don’t see the resemblance.”
“No, no, no, look at the color! It looks just like your hair,” you exclaim, gasping and pointing once more as you realize, “Hey! It even has a little frown on its face! Do you see it Ken?”
“I don’t frown that often,” Kento says with a frown. “I’m quite happy when I’m with you.”
You burst into a fit of laughter, wishing he could have watched himself say that. “Sure, Ken,” you drawl, patting him on the shoulder as you get in line for the game, set on winning his lion-lookalike.
However, after 4 tries and an absurd amount of money, you decide to call for backup.
"Kennn," you singsong as you turn to look at him with big, pleading eyes. "Can you help me win this game?"
Kento's heart sinks, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he'd do anything to make you happy. On the other hand, if he helps you win the lion, he'll spend the rest of his days hearing "Awww.. Isn't he just so cute?? He looks just like you, baby!" about a stuffed, over-evolved house cat.
But, in the end, the little angel on his shoulder (with a voice that sounds suspiciously similar to yours) wins. As Kento steps up for his try, he half considers putting no effort in and losing the game just so you won’t be able to correlate his good looks to a stuffed animal. Then, he (or maybe the little angel up there) decides he can’t do that to you—it would just be too cruel.
So, Kento gets ready for his turn: rolling his sleeves up, passing you the bag on his shoulder, and sighing without meaning to.
His first try is a failure. Each of the 5 rings supplied magically bounced off the bottlenecks, frustrating him to no end. “This game is rigged, sweetheart. We should find something else to play,” Kento grumbles, turning away from the booth with an irritated expression.
You shake your head, insisting, “But this is the only game we’ve seen that has that stuffed lion!” Then, you bring out the big guns, clasping your hands together and widening your eyes, begging, “Please, Ken..”
Aaaand…. He’s a goner, always so soft and willing when it comes to you.
Reinvigorated by your pleading and determined to make you happy, your boyfriend sets out on a mission to win you that stuffed lion.
After his first try, Kento sighs so hard you think you might physically feel the wind from it tickling at your forehead.
After his second try, Kento turns to you and drops a sweet little kiss on your nose to remind himself why he’s subjecting himself to this frustrating torture.
After his third try, Kento runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his sleeves with more force than necessary as he squints menacingly at the table of glass bottles.
After his fourth try, you tug at his wrist, telling him, “You don’t have to keep trying, Ken. It’s okay.” You feel guilty watching him get more and more frustrated, but he smiles, patting the back of your hand as he tells you it’s okay.
After his fifth try, Kento looks up at the stuffed lion as he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to stay focused on winning the prize and not how annoying this blatantly rigged game is.
After his sixth try, you’re seriously impressed by Kento’s ability to remain calm. You practically had steam coming out of your ears with each of your missed throws, but he’s taking this like a champ—maybe you’ll read some of his self help books to learn his ways.
After his seventh try, Kento curses under his breath, beginning to lose his cool.
After his eighth try, Kento thinks it might be time to start believing in a deity: Maybe he would have won on his first or second try with divine intervention on his side.
And then! After returning to purchase almost ten consecutive attempts and officially creeping out the worker managing the booth, Kento’s fourth ring finally finds its place around the neck of a bottle!!
You jump up and down and clap in celebration, elated by Kento’s victory. He immediately turns toward you, excitement written across his features as he wraps you up in a hug. You’re giggling and pressing kisses onto his cheek, murmuring thank you’s against his skin as you both grin ear to ear—both entirely too old to be so elated over a win at the carnival.
And even as you tease him, holding the stuffed toy up next to his face in comparison, he thinks his patience may have just paid off.
Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.
That’s why, as you break down in front of him, he’s patient.
Just minutes ago, you’d been okay—you’d been more than okay. Seated on Kento’s lap, breath heavy as he scattered kisses across your face—moving from cheek to nose to lips to forehead—you’d been beyond okay.
Nothing had been too out of the ordinary: though Kento wasn’t a voracious and demanding lover, the two of you had shared more than a fair amount of kisses and “makeout sessions.” And you enjoyed these kisses, these “sessions,” but you also enjoyed keeping it at that, never progressing further than a few wandering touches and a lost shirt or two. Kento, always happy to follow your lead, to respect your boundaries, would never press further when you’d break away and ask to go to bed, to watch the movie, to cook dinner together.
Tonight, you planned on spending the night together at Kento’s apartment. Falling asleep and waking up next to Kento might be one of your favorite things in the world: his hair is always perfectly mussed, voice deep and raspy, and touch gentle and loving. You always wake up happy and warm all over when you feel his arm around your middle, breath hot on your ear as he murmurs a low “Good morning, darling.”
So, you show up at Kento’s place at around 6, a bag of groceries on your arm, just like usual. The two of you work together in the kitchen, each spoon feeding the other small taste-tests, just like usual. Dinner is a quiet, romantic affair, intimate and sweet, just like usual. After the wining and dining, you two curl up in bed and watch an episode of that show you’re slowly making your way through together, just like usual.
And when you end up straddling him, TV already shut off, fingers gently twisting in his soft, golden hair, Kento thinks he can get used to this being added to your usual. His hands are splayed out across your back, keeping you close to his chest as he smiles into your swollen, kiss-bitten lips. And when he starts dropping sweet little kisses—like a saint delivering small blessings—all over your face, who are you to hold back that little whimper in the back of your throat? Who is Kento to deny the surge of desire flaring low in his stomach at your reactions? His hands slip underneath your shirt, playing with the band of your bra as you squirm against him and tilt your head up to kiss him again. He moves further—further than he’s ever gone with you—and runs a finger along the underside of the waistband of your pants, brushing a knuckle against the soft skin of your pelvis.
That’s when everything changes.
The second you feel Kento touch you lower than your stomach you freeze up, jerking away from the soft kiss you’d been caught up in. Your eyes go wide and you scramble off of his lap, breath frantic as you try to calm the spike of panic blurring your senses. You’re trying to keep an eye on Kento—on his movements and expressions and demeanor—but it’s hard with how suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed and it makes you feel scared, the way you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do next.
It was just one touch, it’s okay. He doesn’t know, he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t trying to... It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—
“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” Kento tries to soothe you, but you look at him like you’re… scared of him and he hates himself for frightening you so bad.
What happened?
He thinks he might have an idea of what may have set you off, and as your breathing becomes more and more erratic, he begins to worry.
“Baby,” Kento starts, tone gentle. “Has someone ever… hurt you like this? By touching you?”
The way you flinch at his words is enough to confirm his suspicions, but Kento stays quiet, waiting for you to respond.
You don’t want to tell him. Your eyes keep darting around, nervous gaze cast down onto the blanket as you think about how you should lie—
But, wait. You promised Kento that you wouldn’t hide things from him, that you’d tell him things about your health and well-being. You really shouldn’t lie to him, not about this, but you really don’t want to tell him.
You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to say that it was your fault, that maybe you deserved it. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to start treating you like you’re dirty or shameful, like an embarrassing secret. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to get angry at you for not telling him sooner, because maybe he wouldn’t have loved you all this time—wasted all this time—if he knew. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to tell you that it isn’t a big deal, that you don’t have a right to be so upset over something like this, that you’re overreacting. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to ruin this peaceful little thing between you and him with your own issues and nightmares. You don’t want to tell him because—
Crap. You’ve been stuck in your own head for too long. The air feels thick with an awkwardly long silence as you scramble to mash together an appropriate response, but Kento’s patient and he waits without judgement, kind eyes filled with worry.
And you really don’t want to tell him, eyes welling up with tears because you’re stressed and anxious and not sure about what you’re supposed to do.
Finally, you decide to just lie, choking out a pained, “No—” as hot tears spill over your cheeks. You feel horrible and guilty for lying, knowing that Kento has never been anything but upfront and honest with you, but you’ve never been as good and brave as him so you let the lie spread its wings and shield you.
Your breath is coming out in short, stuttered pants as you try to fight the wave of anxiety attempting to drown you, hands coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your choked sobs.
You feel horrible.
You feel horrible for lying.
You feel horrible because you ruined the moment of fun you were having with Kento.
You feel horrible for this breakdown, even if you know you can’t help it, because Kento doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this baggage he didn’t ask for.
You feel horrible because being with Kento has helped you come so far out of your shell, but now it feels like it’s all been ruined, like no matter how much progress you make, you’ll never be able to fully heal, fully escape.
You feel horrible because you can’t get those memories out of your head.
You feel horrible because you keep thinking about the last time someone touched you where Kento did.
You feel horrible for ever correlating Kento and his goodness to that person, even if it’s just in your head, even if you can’t help it, even if it’s involuntary because you’re scared.
You just feel horrible. You feel horrible about everything. And when Kento reaches for you, moving to try and gently tug at your wrist, worried about your frantic breathing and the way you seem to be trying to stop your breathing altogether with your shaking hands, you feel even worse.
When you see Kento’s hand move toward your face, you flinch so hard you choke, gasping behind your palm as you squeeze your eyes shut, shoulders tightening up with fear. You’re so on edge right now and your vision is too blurry with tears to properly gauge if he’s angry at you or not, so you just figure he is. You figure he’s seen through your lie and he’s upset with you, upset for a multitude of reasons that just overwhelm you further. You figure that if your tears dried you’d look up and find an angry Kento looming above you, brows pulled low and lips stretched into a disgusted sneer.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Kento gently murmurs, pulling his hand back, interrupting your self-destructive thoughts. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me—think you can do that for me baby?”
Numbly, through all the noise in your mind, you follow Kento’s voice like a lifeline, nodding with an uncoordinated jerk of your neck.
“Good girl,” he praises you kindly. “Now I’m gonna need you to move your hands away from your mouth,” Kento instructs, adding softly, “Gotta stop holding your breath sweetheart, gotta let yourself breathe, even if your breathing isn’t quite right yet.”
Taking a shuddering breath, you nod again, dropping your hands from your mouth. But, once your hands drop, you stop trying to control your gasping breathing and begin to panic at the heavy heaving of your chest. Now, you’re breathing too irregularly and awkwardly: inhaling when you need to exhale and exhaling over your exhales and struggling to just take a solid breath in because your lungs won’t listen.
Because you’re breathing too rapidly, you’re simultaneously suffocating and breathing too much, escalating your panic. You’re scared and getting lightheaded and it’s too much—one hand comes up to muffle your mouth again almost immediately.
However, this time Kento is prepared, and his voice pulls you back to reality as he murmurs, “Ohhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is low and sweet and it makes you pause, instinctively wanting to listen. “I know it’s scary, but you have to keep your hand away from your mouth. Don’t try to restrict your breathing—there you go, there’s my good girl.”
You’ve tugged your hand away again, placing it in your lap as you blink up at Kento through watery lashes.
“Alright, sweetheart, now I want you to focus on your breathing. I’m going to take a few deep breaths and I want you to try to match your breathing with mine,” he says gently. “Does that sound okay?”
You nod shakily, panic ebbing slightly as you listen to his familiar voice and begin to follow the slow rhythm he sets.
“Inhale…. Exhale…”
“Inhale…” Exhale.
Inhale… Exhale….
“Good girl, that was perfect. You’re doing amazing, love,” he praises. You know he’s just being kind—your breath is stuttering and you’re involuntarily mixing up the inhales and exhales—but Kento’s reassurance makes you feel safe and calm regardless.
After a few more cycles of breath, the dizziness fades and oxygen begins steadily flowing through your lungs as you follow Kento’s lead.
Inhale… “Exhale…”
“Inhale… Exhale…”
Inhale… Exhale….
As you continue to try to control your breathing, you reach out to pick up his hand, trying to silently bridge the gap between you two, making the small first move to show him that you’re slowly becoming more comfortable and grounded. He lets you lace your hand in his, thumb comfortingly brushing against the skin of your hand, the touch gently reassuring you that you’re safe.
Soon, you feel confident enough to wordlessly move towards Kento, letting him wrap you up in a comforting embrace. Being in his arms always makes you feel better, and now that you’ve calmed down enough to realize that he’s not going to hurt you, you press yourself into his chest, searching for his steady patience and gentle manner. Your breathing has evened out, and your mind has cleared enough for you to begin flipping back on what just happened. Kento stays quiet, letting you sort through the cascade of emotions you just experienced, but the silence doesn’t feel hostile—it’s welcoming and patient.
You were kissing Kento, and then he.. he touched you and it freaked you out, and then he was talking to you and… And then he asked you a question. He asked if… He wanted to know if—
Oh my god. You lied to him.
Oh god. You need to apologize—own up to what you did and tell him the truth. But as you think about what to do, your breath begins to stumble over itself again and your heart rate picks up, anxiety taking over your senses.
Your eyes fill up with tears and you look up at Kento, saying in a small voice, “Ken? I… I lied to you… earlier.” Your words are continually interrupted by an emerging pattern of involuntary breaths and hiccups, but you continue on, “I… When y-you asked… S-someone has hurt—hurt me.. before… I lied to—to you.”
You’re fully crying now, and Kento tries calming you down, rubbing your back carefully, heart sinking at your tears and the way your breathing begins to turn into struggling gasps again.
“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the top of your head, continuing to gently soothe your back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me—my brave, brave girl.”
Kento’s heart hurts. It hurts knowing that you’ve been hurt in the past, that you’re sobbing in his arms because someone hurt you. It hurts knowing that you felt too scared to tell him the truth, and it hurts even more knowing that you feel scared to admit that you lied. He wants you to feel comfortable with him—to know that you should never be scared of him.
“I-Im,” you choke out through gasping breaths, “‘m sorry—I’m sorry, so—sorry. I’m sorry, K-Ken.”
You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, you just know that you need to be apologizing for something. Maybe you’re apologizing for lying. Maybe you’re apologizing for having been assaulted. Maybe you’re apologizing to try to appease Kento so he won’t be as angry with you for your betrayal—for not being the person he thought you were. Maybe you’re apologizing for not letting him continue to touch you—for stopping before you’re hurt again.
But Kento just shakes his head kindly, patting your back good-naturedly in response. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Shhhh, shhhhhh, you’re okay, it’s okay, shhhhh,” he coaxes gently.
“I’m sorry—sorry, ‘m really sorry f-for lying to you.” You keep apologizing, barely registering his words to you. All of your guilt from everything has cumulated, and though you’re apologizing for lying, deep down you’re apologizing for much, much more.
“It’s okay, darling,” Kento tells you quietly, ever so patient as you choke on sob after sob. “I’m not upset with you, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not angry, baby.”
His voice is so achingly gentle, and the way he rubs circles into your back makes your heart break and shatter. How can a person be filled with so much good? You expected anger and rejection, but Kento is being so accepting and sweet it makes you break down into tears. After being mistreated for so long, it feels odd to be embraced so wholly and kindly, and you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated with so much care.
Kento, however, is on a mission to make you feel better. He gracefully waves off your apologies, insisting that it’s okay, that you have nothing to be sorry for. Instead, he apologizes, bowing his head as he begs your forgiveness for overstepping your boundaries. When you shake your head vehemently, insisting he didn’t do anything wrong, he just scolds you gently, “You don’t need to take the blame for everything—it’s okay to give yourself a break. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry. I pushed you past what you were comfortable with and it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”
That makes you go quiet, the silence split only by your uneven and choppy breathing—remnants of the tears still sporadically tumbling from your lashes. Kento’s apology is earnest, and his insistence that you not blame yourself makes you see the situation in a new light.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s okay for you to give yourself a break once in a while. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re just so used to being told it was your fault that you’ve come to believe it. Maybe, even if he didn’t mean you any harm, he still hurt you, and you deserved his apology for the way it scared you.
You’re silent for a little while longer, but then you reach up and pat him on the head, fluffy strands of hair ruffled by the act of affection.
“Thank you, Ken,” you tell him with a sweet, forgiving smile. “Thank you for apologizing, but I don’t blame you for what happened. You didn’t know my exact boundaries and you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s okay, really.”
However, there’s still one more thing in the back of your mind bothering you.
“But… Do you still.. want to be with me? I mean, does it bother you that—that—” You break off, unable to finish your sentence.
“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, love.” Kento pulls back slightly, one arm cradling your back as the other moves to wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still the same person I fell in love with, and I’m not ‘bothered’ by anything about you. Nothing about this is your fault, and I would never treat it as such.”
You nod, relief written all over your face as you breathe out, “Okay, okay.”
“Seriously,” he huffs. “Where are you getting these silly ideas from? I would never leave you, especially not over this.”
Kento seems almost offended that you think he’d stoop so low, tapping your nose as he clucks his tongue in disapproval. You just shrug self-consciously, a little flustered by how sincere he’s being.
“Okay, then,” you sigh dramatically, scrubbing away at the last of your tears. “I guess I’ll have to just take one for the team and stay with you forever—since you’re obviously so obsessed with me.”
“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You’re quite generous, entertaining this obsession.”
“Yup,” you confirm, waving a dismissive hand as you continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s your lucky day. I’m running a one-night special where I grant the favors of my fans.” A grin is slowly making its way onto your face, and your smile bleeds into your tone when you tease, “Don’t get too excited though—I know it’s big news.”
Kento has the most lovesick look on his face as he looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I’m certainly one lucky fan.”
And you giggle at that, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle into his hold. “You’re my favorite fan,” you mumble into his shirt, pressing your cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.
“Hey, does that mean you have other fans you like?”
bonus:
“What are you watching?” You ask, poking your head over Kento’s shoulder to peek at the video he’s watching on his phone.
He jumps up, shutting off the screen immediately, stuttering, “N-nothing, darling.”
You’re unconvinced, reaching for his phone as you squint at him. “Really? You seem awfully jumpy for someone doing ‘nothing,’” you deadpan. Then, you narrow your eyes, accusing, “You better not be watching extra episodes of that kdrama you said you hated without me. I know you secretly love it—it’s okay, you can admit it!”
You’ve got a smug grin on your face and Kento doesn’t even try to fight it as you enter the passcode to his phone (your birthday, of course), accepting defeat and rubbing at his temples as the screen unlocks to the Youtube video he’d been watching. He’d rather endure the teasing than try to wrestle the device away from you and accidentally hurt or scare you in the process.
“‘Helping Someone Who Is Having A Panic Attack,’” you read out loud, glancing up at your boyfriend as your eyes widen, grin slowly fading. You click on his watch history, jaw dropping as you see his recently played videos.
What Is A Panic Attack?
How To Help Your Friend During A Panic Attack
Signs Of Hyperventilation And How To Stop Hyperventilating
Best Breathing Technique To Calm Panic Attacks And Anxiety
What NOT To Say To Someone Who Is Having An Anxiety Attack
“Oh my.. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ken.” Your eyes have welled up with tears. You can’t believe he’s been researching how to help you—you don’t even have words to describe how emotional this makes you feel.
Kento has a sheepish look on his face, a little embarrassed you caught him binging those videos. “Yeah… I uh..” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just wanted to… yknow…” He shrugs, and it’s pathetic and lame and it makes you love him that much more. “Wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing… Just in case you ever get… scared.. again.” He coughs a little, looking self-conscious. “Not—not that I think it’ll happen again but—”
You cut him off before he can get another word in, practically suffocating him as you wrap him up in a tight hug. Your arms around his neck are squeezing, but Kento doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as you whisper, “Thank you,” voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
if you've made it this far: thank you for reading :) please take care of yourself, and for all of my survivors out there, please know that it's not your fault, never will be your fault, and never has been your fault!! i love you all and i hope everybody has a great rest of their summer :D
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itz-amani · 4 months
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You are my sunshine [Imagines]
Sukuna x Sunshine reader[Most voted]
Thank you for voting so appreciate .Grammar error English is not my first language
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-When he first met you he thinks you are the most annoying person ever .Well it turns out of the blue ,Unexpectedly he is the one who falls hard .
-He finally found his light in the dark ,his angel ,his paradise...his everything.
-He felt like he won something that is worth it for his whole life ..
-You are the one that can make him blush in anyway. He gets flustered the way you smile , laugh, The way you give him flying kisses He will cover his face a bit, looking away muttering ''Such a cutie..''
-He reminds you daisies. Every time he go for a walk in town he will go to the flower shop and bought a bouquet of Daisies because they represent you who brings joy and cheerfulness in his life .
-If you do the See You Again [ft. Tyler ,The Creator, Kali Uchis] trend You're the ''Lalalalala'' and him ''Okokokok''
-You like making him flower crowns and rings in your garden as you play with his big hands. He found it is very cute. As you finished his crown and placed on top of his head saying ''Here you are my King'' and he immediately pulls you by the waist for a hug , his face on your stomach as you pulled his head to your chest , playing with his pink- salmoned hair.
-he loves braiding you hair in many styles. His favorite thing about you is your voice. He likes when you sing or talk, Every time he is in a bad mood of something once he hears your voice that sounds like a melody his anger poof away..
-He gets mad when you are the one who apologize first even if you are the problem or him . He doesn't like to scold you . He doesn't want to.
-He loves when you tracing your finger on his tattoos talking random stuff ''Do you know fishes can swim❔'' He chuckled as he pat your head
-You love doing skincare with him. You force him to try to do skincare routine , He refuses at the first but he was defeated with your starlight eyes
-H e loves you when you humming him to sleep . While you are humming he closed his eyes .You are assuming that he is already asleep so You decided to stay quiet but he wont let that happen ''Do I ask you to stop angel❔'' He pulls you together, placed his head on your lap You giggled as you continued
-The type that records you running in the field of flowers, spinning and holding each others hands and piggy-back rides
-The type that says ''Good night'' first and carries you to the bedroom when , holding you in his arms , his lips on your ear lobe whispering
''Good night my sweetest girl''
idk sory if its short im tired of work
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pengujoon · 7 months
Text
THE SCENT OF PANCAKES
cont. gojo x reader, comfort..? fluff?? use of love. reader experiencing the scare of losing a loved one. living together!au, intentional lowercase. 
a/n. okay i tried making this a toothrotting fluff but this is what i managed. it’s angst laced comfort fluff. ps: gojo’s alive in this one. source: trust me bro
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you stirred in your sleep, the sensation of emptiness on one side of the bed pulling you from your dreams. groggily, you reached out, expecting to find the comforting warmth of satoru's embrace, but your hand felt nothing but empty space.
in your half-asleep haze, you mumbled his name, wondering if he had slipped out of bed early, perhaps to wash up. but as you tried to call out to him many times, there was no response, no familiar hum of his presence in the room.
your eyes blinked open, and a wave of unease washed over you as you realised that satoru's side of the bed was immaculately untouched. it was as if no one had ever slept there before. panic began to creep in as you sat up, your heart pounding with dread.
you blinked, rubbing your eyes in disbelief, hoping that this was just a strange dream. but the room remained eerily empty.
with trembling hands, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and reached for your robe, determined to find him. your mind raced with irrational thoughts, and you stumbled toward the bathroom.
in your groggy state, you half-expected to find satoru standing at the sink, washing up as he often did in the mornings. but when you pushed open the bathroom door, it was empty, the tiles cold and devoid of life.
a strangled gasp escaped your lips, and you whispered, “oh no. is he… gone?”
in that agonising moment, you were overcome with a profound sense of loss, as if the very air had been sucked out of the room. you couldn't bear the thought of him being absent from your life.
you ran out from the bathroom, ignoring the disorientation and the throbbing pain as you slipped and fell to the floor in your haste, your urgency to find him overriding grace. you rushed to the bedroom door, your trembling hand reaching for the doorknob.
just as your fingers brushed the cold metal, the door swung open, revealing satoru on the other side. his expression shifted from surprise to deep concern as he took in your appearance.
“love?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. “are you okay?”
you couldn't find your voice immediately, your heart still pounding with fear. but upon seeing him in the doorway, wearing a teddy bear apron and his signature sunglasses, a rush of relief washed over you.
“oh,” you finally whispered, unable to hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes. “thank god.”
satoru stepped into the room, his concern deepening as he noticed your trembling form. “what's wrong? are you okay? did you fall and hit anywhere?” his love and care were evident in his voice.
you didn't hear his questions, your immediate response being to wrap your arms around him tightly, burying your face in his chest. “i thought you were gone,” you choked out, your voice muffled against his shirt. “again.”
satoru was taken aback for a moment, his concern giving way to understanding. his hand ran through your hair, gently rubbing circles on your back.
his other hand found its way to your waist, holding you securely as if assuring you that he was real and present. the scent of pancakes lingered on his apron, and you realised that he had been in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
“i’m right here, love,” he whispered, his voice soothing and reassuring. “i’m not going anywhere. you don't have to worry.”
satoru held you close, his embrace reassuring and unwavering. he could feel the rapid beat of your heart, the fear and relief that had flooded your senses.
leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips warm and soft against your skin. it was a kiss filled with love and devotion, a silent promise of his unwavering commitment.
“i’m not going anywhere anymore,” he whispered, his voice tender. “i’ll always be with you.”
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am currently lacking the capabilities to write a toothrotting fluff. satoru's incident affected me so much i can't write a single happy fic. i also need satoru to tell me that he's real and it's all just a dream, and that he's still alive and well
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tojivu · 3 months
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Megumi and reader after a two week separation because of megumis mission. He admits that he almost died to reader and talks about what happens after.
empty spaces ⋆ megumi fushiguro
an. argh sorry i got carried away LOL
cw. sfw, gn!reader, comfort + fluff
playing. bills by enhypen.
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the bed's been useless these past few days.
it's as if the weeks have been drawn out, the universe adding new hours to each of the days so they're longer than they should be — that's what it's been feeling like.
you refuse to sleep in the master bedroom. the pillows next to your head smell too much like your boyfriend; hints of mint shampoo linger and enter your nose as you try to sleep, but ultimately fail to do so.
megumi's been gone for a bit now, and you haven't gotten much news, either. yaga's always talking about classified information and how 'the public shouldn't be concerned with jujutsu affairs' — anxiety pits in your stomach because why couldn't he just tell you whether your boyfriend was dead?
you try to distance yourself from places in the house that remind you of him, incase he's really gone this time; you believe it'll make things easier for you, but it feels as if someone's cutting away at the vessels closest to your heart whenever you imagine it — imagine megumi's body laying lifeless as they transport it back to tokyo.
megumi's never been gone for more than 3 days, especially on a mission. he's usually quick with it, coming home with a cut or two on the arms or face; it'll heal just fine, because he always asks you to take care of his wounds.
you usually sit on his lap as you bandage him up. he winces at the sting of the antiseptic, his fingers gripping harshly at your waist and then you'll tell him to sit still — he never listens, gets all grumbly with furrowed eyebrows — until you clean him up and put on the last bandaid, kiss him over the piece of clear film (and maybe an extra on the lips, if they aren't bleeding too); it's only then he finally shuts up.
you wonder how long you'll have to sit together on the kitchen island this time, if he comes home, that is — you don't think you'll mind the back and arm strain this time. you just want to see him.
"relax," gojo reassures over the phone. "he'll be back soon."
those words mean nothing to you. he's been gone for 14 days now, and he hasn't called — his location hasn't updated, either, you think he must've broken it during the fight or something.
a few sentences are exchanged between satoru and you, before your finger taps the red button at the bottom of your screen; unsatisfied doesn't, couldn't, describe your current thoughts — you were enraged that that was the only piece of information that was provided.
it takes a few hours for you to calm your thoughts. they make your head spin and heart sink, jump around like marbles on clean linoleum and deafen the shows you play on television.
you're watching megumi's favourite drama, which happens to be your favourite drama, too — he was the one who introduced it to you. you're seven episodes in when you hear the front door creak open; so loud that it reminds you to get the hinges replaced.
megumi was supposed to call the guy. it's clear you might have to ring him up yourself, now.
you wonder if it could be nobara. she didn't tag along with yuji or megumi, and you've been ignoring her calls for the past week or so — she must be here to give you a good lecture.
you hear faint groans and bags dropping to the floor, close to the entryway. you aren't greeted by a loud "[name]" as you usually would by nobara. a shiver travels down your spine, hairs on the back of your neck beginning to stand.
you throw the woven blanket off of your body and to the side of the couch — the socks on your feet lubricate your steps and you almost trip with how fast you make your way to the door.
"[name]," his voice calls, rasp voice barely reaching your ears. "i'm home."
megumi's lip is bloody, bandages wrapped over his right eye and around his head — his left arm and leg had some cuts, as well; but those seem to have scabbed already.
you want to call his name, but nothing comes out of your mouth; only a small whimper before your lover is wrapping his arms around your torso. "sorry i was gone for so long."
the pit in your stomach is gone now, almost instantaneously — instead, you begin to sob into megumi's jacket.
megumi feels the guilt but the comfort of having you in his hold overpowers it. if it didn't, he was sure he would be tearing up, too; he never liked seeing you cry.
"megs," you sniffle. "i thought you were—"
"i almost did," megumi cuts you off. he didn't want you to say those words, though he knows being a sorcerer had his fate sealed — but it didn't mean he wanted you to know that. "but i'm alright, see?"
megumi smiles down at you, as if it didn't hurt to move the muscles in his face: they stung like small needles, but he sees the relief wash over your face like a splash of cold water — so he thinks he can put up the act for a bit longer.
"you're all bloody," you mutter. "can i clean that for you?"
you point at his lip and he nods, wincing at your finger that tries to inspect the cut a little closer — it's a familiar feeling: your delicate fingers treating him like glass.
megumi's standing in front of you, and you're sitting on the kitchen island so you can actually reach his face. he lets you do your thing and he's fighting every urge to kiss your lips; he knows the cut will only get worse.
"i don't want you to go missing on me like that," you say. "never again."
"i won't," he assures, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you continue cleaning his cuts. "can't die yet."
"ever," you correct. "don't plan on dying, ever."
"i'm not immortal, [name]."
"that's not my problem to fix."
he smiles at your attitude — megumi might really have to figure out a way to become immortal now — freeze the cells that are dying in his body before his bones get too tired to move, stop the pigment in his hair from fading.
"okay." he breathes, hands finding their way around your waist — he taps your legs to open wider to let him fit between. " but you'll have to be immortal too, then."
"why?" you question. "i don't go around killing myself to chase curses."
"when you die, i'll be lonely," megumi explains. "need you to fill the empty space on the bed."
you laugh, trying to think of a witty comeback — you were still upset at your boyfriend for going MIA — but the look he's giving you makes it difficult not to give in.
"is that the only reason you're dating me?"
"maybe," he lies. "i didn't buy such a big bed for nothing. can't let it go to waste."
you gasp, too dramatic to be real — you put the gauze down and give him a stern look, and he lets a giggle slip through his lips before you get to nag him again.
"i'm just kidding, baby," megumi begins to kiss your frown away, pressing his blood stained lips to yours. "i love you for far more than that."
and it's just like that that you melt at megumi fushiguro's words — his red lips and blushed face making your heart skip more beats than humanly possible.
"whatever." you continue to feign anger, yet your arms are still wrapped around his neck. he knows your attitude will last for at least a week.
his lips hurt, and he thinks your hard work has gone to waste with the way he's peppering kisses all over your face.
your hands find his jaw and you lead him into an actual kiss, and you realise he tastes like antiseptic — a little blood in the mix, too — but you can't really complain.
"i'm serious."
you wonder if it's megumi who fills the void you have, or whether it's you who fills his. whether that be in the form of empty beds or an empty house, you know for certain that everything feels off without him — missing like a centre puzzle piece.
"i know," you run your fingers through his rough and matted hair. "i love you too, megs."
"think you'll have to wash my hair for me, too."
you shake your head. "probably has lice."
"we'll have lice together, then." your boyfriend shrugs his shoulders.
"that's so gross, megs," your face sours. "you're such a romantic."
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200124 — WHY IS THIS SO LONG DAMN
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